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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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spade-riddles · 3 years

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The whole timing and use of JK’s social media asset on babygate post is very interesting. IMO there are several possibilities:

1. It’s a highly strategic and calculated move to drown out and bury babygate news with Taylor’s win. Esp since most of Karlie’s fanbase are huge Taylor fans who would prioritize Taylor’s performance and monumental accomplishment on the same day. I had a feeling that Taylor attending and performing in the grammy’s meant that she knew in advance that she’ll win at least one out of her many nominations / was led to believe that she had a very strong chance to win. Remember she chose not to attend the previous Grammy’s despite being nominated. Biebs didn’t attend as well, as he did not won in any of his nominations this year. I think odds are higher even this year that artists knew ahead due to COVID as it meant that they’d risk exposure being there without any assured participation. It seems to be a concerted effort between the two camps. Push button release of articles on Grammy Day and JK minutes-before-Taylor’s-performance posting means that they knew of it way ahead. How can Karlie’s camp know if they are in a feud? Moreover, posting using JK’s account, despite our disgust in association, could have been meant to temper more headlines linking the 2 if Karlie posted it. This gives hope, in fortifying that the baby is KK & TS’s, but it also signifies for me, that they want the baby protected from the public eye within a public narrative’s already too messed up by the skeletons in their closet. Besides, I think Taylor knows already that her career has reached phenomenal heights at just 31, she knows the formula to win not only her fans but the homophobic Grammys thus the Toe speech and WB proclamation doubles down on this narrative. Which is why I think her lovher’s blue, but understands even if she could never give her peace.

“Live out a narrative that we find to be interesting enough to entertain us, but not too crazy that it makes us uncomfortable. This is probably one of my last opportunities as an artist to grasp onto that kind of success, so, I don’t know, as I’m reaching 30, I’m like, I want to work really hard while society is still tolerating me being successful.” - Taylor Swift, Miss Americana

2. It’s a shrewd move from 🛴 just to irritate the hell out of Taylor and Taylor alone (Kaylors are collateral damage, one that I’m pretty sure he didn’t even consider due to the very minimal count). There’s a possibility that he could have known ahead due to his industry contacts / Grammys had to announce or heavily hint to nominees who will win based on who’s performing given the pandemic situation, hence he could’ve planned ahead and synced release of articles and post of JK. If he wanted to be loud about it tho, he could’ve posted it on a separate day after the whole Taylor Grammy press died down. It would be odd and deluded for him to think that this could overshadow Taylor’s big day, when a big chunk of KK’s fans were originally Taylor’s fans. Moreso, majority of Taylor’s fans hate KK, they couldn’t have cared less on Taylor’s day, esp posting it on JK’s low traction asset. This honestly doesn’t make sense to me, it’s so petty even for 🛴. Unless, this alludes that Kaylor has indeed broken up, because this is the only way this move could have really hurt TS and further validates TS’s proclaimed hatred towards the dude.

"What's a lifetime of achievement? If I pushed you to the edge” - Taylor Swift, Coney Island

3. It’s a vindictive move from Karlie, but this assumes that Kaylor underwent a very volatile breakup. KK like everyone knows that she’s performing, could have known from 🛴/ just a hunch that she’ll win and chose to spite TS cos when she walked to the podium, she forgot yet again to say her name. If this was true though, and I was her wanting to incite violence, I would’ve posted it on my assets with a larger reach esp to TS fanbase and watch as the world burns with all headlines linking both of them. Furthermore, I would neither have posted a picture of myself dancing in a cardigan by the woods 13 days before Folklore, nor hugged a stupid tree when Folklore dropped and caption it my happy place because I hate her and I should have known nothing about that surprise album drop that plain oat was only privy to.

4. It’s a cocky move from JK like everyone knows that she’s performing, could have known from 🛴/ just a hunch that she’ll win and chose to spite TS by syncing his announcement because of sheer insecurity. This totally does not make sense to me because if it is indeed his baby and Karlie’s, and he is a businessman, he would either not care bec getting Karlie knocked up should be enough of a flex and he should’ve been more worried about his hedge fund’s current performance. If he was an intelligent businessman as well, he would’ve used KK’s platform that had more reach esp to the right target market.

5. It’s a pure plain koincidence, YET AGAIN, not a lot going on here. 🙄

6. Other possibilities I haven’t thought about that could also possibly be true as we are all just speculating here.

Whew. That was long. My best bets are either 1 / 2. What do you think?

🧶

Nice post. I agree it is 1 or 2. Most likely #1 for me.

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carly-they-jepsen · 4 years

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RWRB Timeline

I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.

Go big or go home, right?

I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.

Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.

I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.

Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.

Two asterisks ** = official dates.

Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.

One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.

I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.

I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.

If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.

I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)

I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019

Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.

Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week

Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London.

6 a.m. EST: Take off.

5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.

Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.

Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.

Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) — Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.

Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.

Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.

9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.

Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.

Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.

Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.

Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.

Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?

Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.

Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.

**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.

**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.

**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.

**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.

10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.

**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”

*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.

*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.

*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.

*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.

*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.

**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.

9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.

**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.

Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.

**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.

8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.

Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.

There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.

The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.

11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.

**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex

Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.

*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.

*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.

**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.

*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.

*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.

*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.

*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.

*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.

*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.

*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146) — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.

10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.

10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms

*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska

Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at

**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.

**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.

**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.

*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.

*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.

*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.

Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.

*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.

April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.

April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.

April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.

April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.

April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk

*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.

*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.

*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.

April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.

*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.

**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week

**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.

Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.

*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.

*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.

**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST: Henry and Alex exchange emails.

**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”

*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.

*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.

*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.

Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon

*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.

**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.

10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.

11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.

12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon

1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins

4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.

4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse

4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time

After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.

Alex takes hours to sleep.

*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.

The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.

*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.

*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University.

**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.

9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.

9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”

11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.

*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.

6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.

July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.

2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.

**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.

*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks

*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping

*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.

*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) — Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.

*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.

*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.

*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.

Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.

*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.

*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) — Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.

5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.

7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding

8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London

3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington

4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.

*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.

**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.

5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.

3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.

5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home

**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.

6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.

**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.

8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.

Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours.

Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.

Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures

*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.

**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.

6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.

**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day

3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.

3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington

8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping

1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag

7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington

11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.

*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.

Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane

**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) — 9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.

Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.

*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.

**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.

*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) — A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.

*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up.

9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.

Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.

*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.

Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.

Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.

*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.

**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) — Election day

Alex votes.

6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.

6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.

7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.

8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.

9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113

9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.

10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.

12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.

12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.

1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.

#rwrb #rwarb #rwrb spoilers #rwrb timeline #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #this is exactly 5k #meta #i guess #long post

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townytowncomics · 4 years

Photo

I totally forgot to post my comic yesterday! Here it is with the original caption...

“Hey, guys! I'm super excited to announce that I've received my first-ever sponsorship from SLOOFco! Allow me to thank them sincerely for their support, and please be sure to check out this household brand today!”

#comic #comicstrip #funny #webcomic #work #job #fired

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dyscrasia-eucrasia · 4 years

Photo

Part 3

<<Prev | Next>>

"So how was that show you went to last night?" Javier asked as he preened in front of the mirror.

"Oh my god, it was so, so good," Angel replied as he peeled off his shirt and folded it. "Totally worth taking off a Saturday for. I actually got to talk to the lead singer for one of the bands and he was so gorgeous."

"Yeah? Tell me you got pictures."

"I got a couple when they were playing, here, come look." He motioned Javier over and retrieved his phone from his locker.

Opening up his photo gallery, he'd already pushed the photos from the show down under a wall of selfies, most of the same angle and expression, with only the most minute of differences.

"Girl," Javier said, clicking his tongue as he looked over Angel's shoulder, "you are so conceited."

"Shut up, I am not. This is advertising."

"Sure it is, Miss 'I'm a thousand followers away from ten K.' I saw your post begging for brand deals. Hey, if you get those flat tummy teas to sponsor you, you can do a post about how they flush out your system so you can take a ton of dick."

"Oh my godddd," Angel laughed. "You are such a bitch! Do you want to see these pics or not?"

"Yaaaas, show me!"

"Here," Angel tapped a photo and it expanded to fill the screen. It was probably the best picture he'd gotten at the show, one of Demie as he'd growled into the mic, his long hair cascading on either side of his face, which was half cast in shadow by the stage lights. Angel was especially fond of the way the shadows highlighted Demie's long, gaunt face, and the way the fake horns curled up around his ears.

"...Girl," Javier said. His tone didn't sound like he was impressed. More like he was being judgemental.

"What?"

"That is like, one of the ugliest dudes I've ever seen."

"What? No he isn't, he's hot A.F."

"Giiiirl, you can't be serious. Look at that ratty-ass beard! Oh my god, could you imagine trying to kiss someone with one of those?"

"Oh whatever, you think bald old men are hot."

"Nooo, I think Daddies are hot, not every old guy is a Daddy."

"Ugh, gross."

"You won't think it's so gross when I'm married to a hot rich old guy who dies and leaves me his mansion," Javier said, giving Angel a little shove and heading back over to the mirror.

"That's right, I forgot your idea of romance is murder," Angel shot back. Javier shot him a look, pursing his lips, and gave Angel the finger before heading out of the locker room.

Angel laughed to himself. He took another look at the picture of Demie. He'd taken surprisingly few photos of the show - something about the music had just taken such a strong grip on him that he'd forgotten to document the experience. In a way, it had felt too intimate to post on Instagram with a long-winded caption about how much he loved music or whatever.

Plus, he preferred to tag artists in his posts, and despite doing a lot of digging, he hadn't been able to find any social media presence for Bacchus at all. No Instagram, no Twitter, no Spotify, not even a Bandcamp page. He'd even scrolled back through nearly a hundred of Marius' Instagram posts, looking for a picture of Demie or Elaine, but both were notably absent.

That tracked, he guessed, considering Demie had said he didn't have a phone, but he could've sworn he saw Elaine on one. Surely she posted something about them, at least to let fans know if they had a show coming up. But all he'd been able to find was a post on a heavy metal Subreddit with a low-quality recording of the band, asking if it was true that Marius used to play for them. There were only two replies - one reporting that Marius had said in an interview that he used to play bass for an indie band, and another saying that Marius' music sucked.

Angel sighed, thinking that he should've gotten a selfie with the band, to memorialize the show for himself if no one else. With that thought, he put his phone back in his locker and stripped down, changing into a g-string and heading out onto stage.

He liked his job, for the most part. He enjoyed the freedom of being openly, luridly sexual in front of others. He enjoyed feeling like he had a power over the men who came into the club. It was a power he didn't really get elsewhere. Sure, he was tall and muscular for an Asian man, but in comparison to the average American, he was still short, and in the local gay scene he was expected to be a submissive little bottom.

Not that there was anything wrong with being a bottom. He definitely was one. But he didn't appreciate the way he was expected to be a doormat for tops.

When he was dancing, though, he held the power. And he loved that feeling.

He didn't love when drunk guys tried to get handsy, though. And he didn't love having to pay to work the club, nor did he enjoy how unreliable the pay was. Some nights he could pull upwards of $600, others he struggled to get $100. Taking a Saturday off for the sake of a concert was an especially unwise move, since weekend nights were the best financially.

He didn't really regret it, though. He was glad he'd gone to the show and had the opportunity to meet Demie. The singer occupied his mind the entire day, so much so that, after the club closed for the night and he got home, he pulled out his phone and dialed Demie's number, already saved to his contacts.

The phone rang four times, and he was ready - albeit let down - to accept that Demie had given him a fake number when a female voice finally answered.

"Hello?" She asked groggily.

"Um… is Demie there?" He asked.

"Who the fuck…" He could hear her say, though it sounded like she'd held the phone away from her. Her voice came back louder and asked, "Can I ask who's calling?"

"This is Angel, Demie gave me this number after the show last night?"

"Jesus fucking…" Her voice got muffled, but he could make out that she was shouting Demie's name.

After shouting Demie's name twice, Angel could just barely make out Demie's voice shouting something back.

"Phone! It's that guy from the show," Elaine shouted. There was some weird feedback, like she was rubbing the mouthpiece of the phone on her shirt, and then a clatter as the phone was handed over.

"Hello?" Demie asked.

"Hi, this is Angel. We met the other night."

"Dude, it's like four in the morning."

"Oh! Oh shit, you're right. Sorry, I work nights. I can call back later…"

"Nah, it's cool, I was already up."

Angel could hear Elaine shout something that sounded like 'I fucking wasn't.' Demie grumbled something and a few seconds later there was the sound of a door slamming shut.

"What's up?" Demie asked. He made an 'oof' sound, like he was flopping down on a bed or chair.

"What's your band's Instagram handle?"

"Oh. We don't do that shit."

"Seriously? What about Spotify? Or Bandcamp?"

"What are those?"

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Never heard of them."

"Where do you sell your music, then?"

"Uh… I've got some cassette tapes that we used to sell at shows. They're old stuff though, back when Mar was still in the band. Why, do you wanna buy one?"

"Holy shit," Angel said with a laugh, tossing himself down on his futon. "What fucking decade did you walk out of?"

"What? Tapes are cool. I don't know why anyone would want some e-file digital copy on their iPod or whatever when they could have a physical copy."

"God, you sound like a hipster."

"I don't really know what that means but I'll take it as a compliment."

There was a brief lapse in the conversation. Angel wasn't sure what to say. The more he found out about Demie, the more quaint he seemed. It was oddly endearing, knowing that there was no way Demie would've seen his Instagram. He never would've seen the airbrushed photos or the flirty stories or the pics of beautifully crafted breakfasts that he never actually ate because he had to maintain his abs for the sake of his job.

In a world where everyone had to put their best self on display at all times for a digital audience, Demie had no expectations. He didn't see Angel-the-wannabe-micro-influencer. There was something beautifully vulnerable in that.

"So what are you doing up at 4am?" Angel eventually asked.

"Eh… I was writing some music. Haven't really done much since Mar moved out, but I dunno… I just kinda got this flash of inspiration. Just gotta see where it takes me, y'know?"

"No, I get it. Back when I was in school, I just couldn't write essays during the day, somehow the words only came to me when I'd been up past midnight."

"Hm. Yeah."

"Can I ask what the song's about, or is it like… trade secret stuff?"

"Yeah, no, it's cool. You ever heard of Orpheus?"

"Oh, yeah. A friend of mine is in love with that one musical, what's it called? Hadestown?"

"Oh shit, they made a musical out of that? I thought it was just an album."

"See, I didn't know it was an album first."

"That's cool. So this song's more about the original myth…"

#writers on tumblr #writing #original fiction #original characters #lgbt fiction #gay fiction #wright's writing #w:demie and angel

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selmaries · 4 years

Text

hey guys!

just wanted to clear up that I totally didn’t mean any harm with my last gifset. when I posted it, I originally mentioned that I was inspired by another post I saw a while ago, I just forgot who posted it or where I even saw it. totally my bad, I should have maybe made that more clear in my caption (or not posted at all until I found it again). I totally understand how it feels, and it’s one of my pet peeves when people steal ideas without giving credit, so I was purposely trying not to do that. I was just having fun making these gifs, I honestly did not mean to claim the idea as my own and I truly did not mean to offend anyone. I’m so so sorry if I did. just updated the caption with the proper credit after someone just sent it to me. thanks guys I hope you can forgive me ♥

#text

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

Text

The Ray #0

"The Beginning of Tomorrow" sounds like my life philosophy.

I don't totally know what I mean by the above caption but then that's philosophy for you, isn't? I'm not going to discuss Zero Hour because when Zero Hour happened, it changed the entire DC Universe's past so that Zero Hour never happened. Everything was suddenly always post-Zero-Hour continuity except without Zero Hour actually existing in that continuity. Therefore I can't discuss it because it's not something that exists. Which probably means I can throw this comic book in the garbage can and forget about it forever! Surprise! I didn't throw the comic book in the garbage! I mean, I did! But I fished it out before I pissed on it because I thought, "Wait. Are the Zero Hour comics part of post-Zero-Hour continuity? They might be stories that happened after Zero Hour which clarify facts about how the world has always supposedly been. So if Martian Manhunter's cape was normal length in the pre-Zero-Hour continuity, this story begins telling readers, "Oh no! It was always five hundred feet long! Don't you remember? You should remember that it was always like that! And did Crisis On Infinite Earths happen in this continuity? Who can fucking tell! Just stop whining about the two different Supermen and how the fuck does Infinity Inc. exist in this timeline, you stupid assholes! If you don't, we're just going to have to keep pulling this shit! You think Zero Hour is bad? Just wait until we pull out The New 52! And then just when you've think you've seen it all, have we got a Watchmen trick ready to flop to fix that!"

Visual proof of J'onn's new and/or always lengthy cape.

My brain is so muddled by DC's continuity changes across the last forty years that I'm not even sure I'm correctly remembering why Zero Hour was needed. But I think it was simply because every fix DC tried to incorporate into their universe just broke a bunch of other shit that later needed to be fixed. What DC didn't realize was that their main problem that needed fixing was the way-too-literal know-it-all fans who couldn't just shut the fuck up. One thing that remains the same from pre-Zero-Hour continuity to this Zero Hour continuity is how Golden Era The Ray is a huge fucking psycho dick. He can't find his son to beat up on so now he's decided to beat up Martian Manhunter. The guy needs severe anger management classes. He needs to spend a little time at Sanctuary, the Heroes in Crisis spa. During the battle that Older The Ray starts, a lot of property is destroyed. Weird how when his son gets into a battle that destroys property, it's the most irresponsible thing in the world. But when he does it, it's just super hero business as usual. Fucking dads! They're the worst, right?! Hypocritical Fox News watching recovering alcoholic assholes who have never done a ninth step with their son! That are also angry super heroes, of course! Older The Ray decides to ask Jenny and Cousin Hank if they've seen The Ray. He doesn't beat the shit out of them when he asked the question though. That doesn't make him less of a dick; it makes him more of a dick! Because now we know he could have approached Martian Manhunter reasonably! Cousin Hank doesn't have much to offer as usual.

It always amazes me how often a person can understand an acronym with which they're unfamiliar simply from a tiny bit of context. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to figure out that VPL equals varicose pussy lips. Oh wait! It's probably visible panty lines.

Jen manages to hack into The Ray's laptop so they can read his letters to Black Canary. Which reminds me that I know why The Ray is missing! I forgot to mention that at the end of the last issue, he went by his dad's house to hug him and his dad wasn't there. But his mother who was supposed to have died giving birth to The Ray was! So now he's probably off crying somewhere. It turns out that "somewhere" was Dinah Lance's bathtub. But when she never returned, he fucked off to cry somewhere else. Sitting in the bath tub, The Ray has a Zero Hour hallucination recounting his origin. He was born leaking radiation. Older The Ray knew the government would come to study him or exploit him, so he gave him to his brother without telling anybody. He left a light image of the baby that would eventually consume itself. He just told his wife their son died and moved on. Meanwhile, The Ray grew up thinking his uncle was his dad. Right up until his uncle died and told The Ray the truth on his death bed. And all of that is pretty much the same as his pre-Zero Hour origin, I think! But it was important during Zero Hour that every series got a Zero Hour book to explain their origins for all the new readers jumping to DC now that all the continuity errors were fixed and it was going to make complete sense. The Ray #0 Rating: C. I don't expect a special Zero Issue to advance the plot in any way so this issue lived up to my non-expectations. It even ends at basically the same point as the last regular issue as The Ray's mom acts confused by this strange teenager trespassing on her property. Even the origin story was a long-winded version of information already expressed in earlier issues. I began reading this series hoping to realign my perspective and read with the same sense of wonder I once had for comic books. But I don't think I can ever regain that feeling I once had that every comic book series was telling a story that was going somewhere. I once thought that the worst thing about dying was that I wouldn't be able to learn how the comic book series I was reading would end. But that's never been the point of most comic book series. No wonder I loved Elfquest and Cerebus so much. Because they were written with an end in mind (Elfquest more than Cerebus but Dave Sim already had the 300 issue thing in mind when I began reading it, so, you know). And, sure, I don't want to rush to the end of a well-written story just because I need to know how it ends. But I'd like to know the journey meant as much to the writer as it does to me. And if the writer of a story is simply writing whatever comes to mind to fill out a page count from month to month, I feel cheated now. There was a time I didn't realize that was a thing. But now that I've seen it, I just can't go back to the excitement and wonder of thinking, "What is going to happen to The Ray's relationship with his family?! How will it affect his super heroing? And what, exactly, is his super heroing anyway? He doesn't seem to have any plan aside from buying a fridge and he's not even working on that plan." Hmm, maybe the whole point of this comic book is that adult life is so complicated that all of your tasks simply become digressions. All of your beliefs and philosophies which propel you to do the things you do mean nothing to the universe which will continuously wear you down with problems you weren't expecting. Didn't some famous jerk-off once say something about life being the thing that happens while you're making plans? Maybe that's what this comic book is about which is also what growing up is about. And maybe that's why so many adults become soulless automatons with no underlying set of ethics to guide them through social interactions requiring empathy and compassion. Who has time to think of anybody else when you're busy putting out fire after fire intent on destroying your life's plans? I don't have this entire series but now I'm hoping that The Ray never gets that fridge until the final issue.

#The Ray #DC Comics #DC #Christopher Priest #Howard Porter #Robert Jones

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nikatyler · 5 years

Photo

Look at that, I’m doing replies after...more than a month? I don’t know. I didn’t check. I also won’t reply to every single thing because 1) my activity feed doesn’t show it all, as always and 2) it’s too late to reply to some things, it would be pointless now. However, thank you all for commenting from time to time, it makes my day. And well, I was against it at first, but I might start replying directly under the posts, I’ll only do replies posts for things I want to talk about more.

Life updates? I’m doing good. My life, surprisingly, didn’t turn upside down when I started uni. My social life also didn’t change too much. But I have a few friends that I talk to in the classes we have together. It’s not a friendship friendship if you know what I mean, but hey. It’s only the beginning, things might change. I’m not losing faith that I’ll walk out of this school with at least one friend.

Played Roses a bit in the past three days. The random gameplay part was boring, I didn’t know what to do, my heart really wasn’t in it, most of the time I just left the game running and interfered only when it was needed, so I cut down on that and went straight to the storyline. I’m not discontinuing this legacy before Regan gets a happy ending. Once Regan is happy, it’s Golden Days time...which means even more intense storytelling. Yay. I’m already exhausted just thinking about it but also, it’s exciting. I love that story so much and I can’t wait to bring it to life.

So yeah. Here are some replies from the past month!

dandylion240 replied to your post “Also apparently on this day one year ago I started creating my ts3...”

I sometimes feel guilty too. I seldom open my ts3 game. But I don’t want to remake my ts3 sims into ts4 because then I know I’d never open the game again

elisabettasims replied to your post “Also apparently on this day one year ago I started creating my ts3...”

I don't play TS3 anymore because it often took up to an hour for my game to even decide it was going to open.

And that was with a GOOD computer.

berrybbbies replied to your post “Also apparently on this day one year ago I started creating my ts3...”

yeah its just a trade off i guess lol but having not played sims 3 for a long time makes me miss it and actually enjoy playing it instead of go in to take pics only! plus loading times are not that bad if you merge everything (but thats a problem on its own haha)

Yeah, creating your ts3 sims in ts4 can definitely lead to not wanting to open ts3 because hey, you have them in this other game that loads a lot faster! And I mean, I do love ts3, but...I’m not going to spend an hour or something just on trying to get into the game to do a random photoshoot.

I have a lot of my stuff merged, but I should probably do it again because I got a lot of stuff since then. Right now, it takes about an hour to load my legacy saves...and that’s quite a long time because by the time it loads, I start working on something else and I don’t feel like playing anymore. I’m usually writing while waiting for it to load and of course, when it loads, I’m in the middle of something I can’t put off - a good dialogue, a fun scene or just something important that I was dying to write and now I finally got to it.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Sunset: “Dad! Let’s take a selfie!” Ross: *contemplating the meaning...”

Hey, Ross? Remember that time you took a selfie flexing your non-existent muscles?

Never forget

what an icon

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Yeah, she’s cooking in your house. Don’t be so upset.”

I bet she doesn't have the "always welcome" trait. It's the first thing I buy, it's only 500 points, LOL

Thank you for reminding me these bonus traits exist! I totally forgot about them.

fataleromeo replied to your post “The character ask meme thing for Ross please ❤”

"This post has so many opportunities to be ruined by tumblr" OMG I feel that so hard ��

Sometimes I’m surprised by all the ways tumblr can go wrong...and then I’m surprised that tumblr can still surprise me.

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Oh look, your stepfather still has moodswings of a teenager. That...”

Half the vampires in young adult fiction behave this way. :D Growing old is inevitable. Growing up is optional. LOL

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Oh look, your stepfather still has moodswings of a teenager. That...”

Lmao Edward oops I mean Caleb.....

I’d pick Caleb over Edward any day but yeah you’re not wrong lmao

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Sooo…I don’t know what happened (actually I think I might have an idea...”

One of my sims was an elder and her hair kept going between grey and her natural color when she was younger. Sometimes in the same sitting. She'd come visit, I"d look and it would be grey. I'd look again a few minutes later and it would be red.

Interesting...I think this happened because I had a separate recolour for his red hair, it had only that swatch and no other. When he got older, I switched to a WMS file with all the colours, but I think the game left the original file for his other outfit.

dandylion240 replied to your photoset “Sooo…I don’t know what happened (actually I think I might have an idea...”

I miss his vibrant red hair

Then I might have a pleasant surprise for you in...the distant future. 👀

poisonfireleafs replied to your post “Yup, looks like the German class is destined to always be my biggest...”

Ooh, learning German can be so hard. Good luck!

I found that I actually don’t have trouble with the grammar. The grammar seems quite easy to me, everything has its place. When I’m reading something, I often understand what’s in the text. The problem comes when I hear someone speak German lol. I understand very little. It was fine in high school, my teacher spoke slowly, but my teacher here speaks so fast...it’s fun. D:

Also my vocabulary sucks to be honest...I need to work on a lot of things.

toxoplasmajuice replied to your photoset “Okay so you guys might remember that Eliza is a vampire in this save....”

can i just say that the way you wrote this post's caption is perhaps THE funniest way to phrase this

That was my intention, thank you for appreciating it!

desira-sims replied to your post “spoiler”

We don't accept death. They must all live forever. ��

I wish I could promise that...but hey, I’ve turned one of my heirs into a vampire, I could give in with every generation and they could all be immortal...hmm...it’s tempting.

dandylion240 replied to your photo “So I opened the Rose Legacy save for the first time in four months...”

I saw this and thought he'd been abducted by aliens lol

I thought aliens were involved too and it scared me haha. They’re a big part of this legacy (or of this blog in general) but their time to shine is over. We can’t make everything about them, can we?

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Lucian: “They’re doing it again, aren’t they? They’re kissing. Dang it...”

Haha! Ross, in fact, probably CAN'T control himself, being a rose gen ��

You are absolutely correct haha.

Actually, they used to be able to control themselves. Back when Sunset was a child, they made sure to not have woohoo until they were sure she was away haha. But I guess times have changed and they care less now lol

#replies #dandylion240 #elisabettasims #berrybbbies #fataleromeo #poisonfireleafs #toxoplasmajuice #desira-sims

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jennifersylvesters · 5 years

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not so subtle - part five

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader Word Count: 7.2k~ oof Warning: swearing, angst at the end A/N: happy chrimas. it’s criman. merry crisis. merry chrysler. damn i wanted this to come out earlier, but i guess that’s life. i am what people would call, er, swamped. i kept having to push this back because i’ve been busy, but i definitely wanted to get it out before christmas. plz say a prayer for me this holiday season as i work two jobs. just kidding. kinda. hopefully you enjoy! like always, feedback is appreciated/loved aka i want it. please.

Things were different between you and Harrison now. You were convinced that all these minuscule moments added up and now actually meant something. What happened on Thanksgiving couldn’t have been a fluke. It was a moment.

Naturally you expected Harrison to text or call you. Any form of communication really. But after Thanksgiving nothing came. Despite your eagerness for something to occur, he seemed to be on a completely different wavelength. You told yourself that he wasn’t used to being in relationships, that this was a serious decision he wanted to take slow. Still, you wanted some sort of sign. Send an owl with a note, for fucks sake.

Except a week later, you begun having doubts. While tapping through Instagram stories, your jaw dropped as Harrison featured some random brunette. He was in a club, clearly drunk as he planted a kiss on her cheek. The girl giggled with absolutely no self control as Harrison boisterously cheered about Arsenal winning a game.

He was just having drunk fun. That’s alright. That’s totally fine.

Yet a couple days passed and you still received nothing but radio silence. Your hope was dwindling when you saw Harrison posted a new snap story one night. You quickly clicked on the circle, ignoring the homework scattered on your desk.

The phone screen changed to a video of Harrison lightly snoring with no shirt on. Oof. The screen then panned to a redhead who filmed herself kissing the top of his sleeping head before bursting into a smile. Your gritted your teeth as the next snap was a photo of Harrison sound asleep with heart emojis around his head. It was captioned “look how cute he is” with a heart eyed emoji.

So this was your sign. Reality sunk back in that Harrison was nothing more than a player and that you and Noah definitely misread the signs.

Santa, for this year I’d like a nice, faithful boyfriend. I’d also like to knock out Harrison Osterfield.

With Christmas approaching, you decided to hell with Osterfield. You couldn’t be concerned about a boy who wasn’t even trying to message you. Not that you were checking anymore. No, you needed to follow your original plan of just committing to your studies. And that’s what you did.

Most nights were spent wrapped up in the library or in your room studying, trying to make sure you knew all the material for your upcoming exams. Boys? Unnecessary distractions. Love? It didn’t matter. Did you really need it? No. But did you still want it? Unfortunately. God you felt pathetic.

It was inevitable that you would need to go out eventually, but you avoided it by all means. Why be miserable outside when you could wallow in self pity in the warmth of your apartment? The only time you bothered going out was to buy Christmas presents. While you knew you could order gifts online, you worried about whether the present would arrive before Christmas. No, you needed to brave the stores for this one.

You headed to a nearby shopping complex on the weekend, trying your best to pick nice yet affordable presents for your family and friends. It wasn’t like you could just ball hard with the measly amount in your bank account. As much as you loved Kimberly, there was no way you could buy her a new KitchenAid mixer like she talked about. You choked when you saw the discounted cost, shaking your head as you briskly walked away. She would just have to settle for a lovely apron instead.

Shuffling around the Target, you knew you neared needing a shopping cart as you attempted to balance multiple items in your arms. Even though you knew better, you still chose to browse the store pretending like your arms weren’t getting sore with the weight of the gifts.

Unable to see in front of you, you collided into someone causing all of your items to spill from your arms. Of course.

As you scrambled to pick up all your items, the other person quickly apologized and began helping you collect them. Picking up a pack of socks, you looked up to see a familiar face.

It was a boy in your lit course named Steven. Despite being a rather big class, he crossed your mind from time to time. Steven was one of those students who occasionally spoke and surprisingly had something intelligent to add to the conversation. While you didn’t know him well, what you did know was that he was incredibly handsome. It made sense why girls and some guys eyed him; his messy brown hair and crooked grin would make most people swoon.

Steven grabbed a shopping basket nearby, placing the items he grabbed into the basket. You politely thanked him as he handed the shopping bag to you.

“Oh, hey! You’re in my lit class” he noticed before you could walk away. “It’s...It’s Y/N, right?” You nodded, surprised that he remembered you. While you contributed in class from time to time, you only answered when you knew the answer in fear of looking like an idiot. “I’m Steven, by the way.” You nodded your head once more, not wanting to add that you already knew who he was. No way you planned on giving stalker vibes.

“Yeah, I’m just doing Christmas shopping for my family. Kinda struggling with the presents for some of the girls” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. You bit down on your lip as he stretched slightly, causing his shirt to raise and exposing a bit of skin. Lord, please control the thirst.

“Did you want any help?” you offered.

“Oh...Yeah! I mean, if you have time. I don’t wanna bother you or anything” he blushed, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner.

“No, it’s totally fine. I was just shopping for friends but I’m actually struggling with a couple of gifts for my guy friends.” You omitted how you weren’t sure what to get for a celebrity who had more money in his bank account than you’d probably ever see.

“I can definitely help with that if you want” he suggested. You accepted his offer, and the two of you begun wandering around the store to find the perfect gifts.

The next couple hours was spent scouring the store, helping one another decide what gifts would be best. You laughed at some of his suggestions, especially when he proposed trying on an Elsa dress to see if it was the right size for your cousin. He made you feel relaxed and it felt so easy to joke around with him. Things felt smooth and almost effortless around him. The longer time you spent with him, the more you understood his appeal.

By the time the both of you finished and paid, relief washed over you knowing that all of your Christmas shopping was complete. All you needed to do now was wrap them. Easy enough.

The two of you made your way towards the parking lot, slowing down once he pointed out he would be heading in a different direction than you.

“Hey, listen. This was really solid of you.” He lifted up the bags of goodies and smiled that crooked grin that had people swooning. Ooh. For a second, it got you too. “I probably would’ve messed this whole thing up.”

“It’s really no big deal” you waved off the comment.

“Well, it was to me.” The two of you shared a smile as you rocked back and forth on your heels. The look lingered a little longer than you expected, and you turned away. You didn’t want to be pulled back into another thirst trap. Not today. It wasn’t till he cleared his throat that you turned right back around. Perhaps a little too quickly. Damn it.

“So listen...There’s this white elephant party next Friday that a couple of my friends are throwing. Did you maybe wanna go with me? It’s always really fun, and my friend Toby always does a drunken karaoke performance of Cher - voice and all.” His invitation took you by surprise. You weren’t expecting to get invited to a party, especially seeing the two of you never hung out before now. But how could you say no?

“Yeah, I’d be down for that” you nodded. He smiled that ever popular smile and you felt your heart race. You hadn’t noticed before, but he had the cutest dimples.

“Great. Lemme just give you my number so I can text you the address.”

The two of you exchanged phone numbers, handing each other one another’s phones to speed up the process. As you finished saving your contact information, you heard someone call out your name.

A scowl instantly appeared on your face upon seeing Harrison approaching. Steven noticed as he glanced from you to the Brit.

Harrison raised an eyebrow as he came over, eying the pair of you. “Hey. I thought that was you. Haven’t heard from you in a while” he commented, placing a hand on your arm. Immediately you yanked away. Harrison blinked, pushing his now free hand into his pocket.

“Been busy.” It wasn’t much but it was enough for Harrison to realize that the two of you weren’t on good terms. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Ah, yes. So busy. Forgot how you just happen to live life in the fast lane” he sarcastically quipped before shaking his head.

You scowled once more, remembering the videos you saw of him. He had the nerve to act like those weren’t big deals? Not in your house. All you wanted to do was go back to mutually disliking one another. Couldn’t he extend the courtesy and do the same?

“Hi. I’m Steven” your classmate introduced himself to Harrison, extending out a hand.

“Harrison” he responded shaking hands. When they dropped, Steven placed his bags down and threw his arm around your shoulder while Harrison shoved his into his pocket once more.

You weren't really expecting Steven to do that, but the gesture wasn’t unwelcome. So you did your best to relax your shoulders, pretending like your relationship with Steven was more than just acquaintances.

“So how do you and Y/N know one another?” Steven asked leaning closer into you.

“We’re friends.” It was a curt response, causing you to scoff. When had the two of you become friends? If anything, your relationship was one of enemies. Friends? Please.

“Just ‘cause Tom and Emma are dating doesn't mean that we're friends.” The comment visibly irritated Harrison who ran a hand through his hair.

“Is that what you told Noah? Cause even he didn't seem to buy that” he snapped back.

“What does Noah know? He also thought we were d-” you stopped in your tracks, not wanting Harrison to know what Noah thought. The idea would've just make him laugh, suggesting that Noah was totally crazy. Yup, totally crazy.

“Noah thought what?” Harrison asked, clearly vexed about this scenario.

“It's nothing” you dismissed, but he wasn't giving up that easily.

“Noah thought what, Y/N?” he repeated himself.

“It was nothing. Just Noah jumping to conclusions.”

“You and I both know that kid wouldn't say anything without having a strong gut feeling.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do! Noah isn’t that type of guy to start any drama” he argued, yanking at his hair once again. He was right, but you didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.

“We don’t know Noah that well.”

“Oh? Who’s th-”

“You know what? Fine. Think that about Noah if you want” Harrison cut Steven off, obviously having no interest in what the other boy planned on asking. Why was he acting like this, ramping up his douchebag attitude with every word? Why did he even bother approaching you in the first place? God, he made you furious. “Are you going to the Christmas party, Y/N?”

“I’ll see you if I see you” you responded coldly, not wanting to deal with Harrison any longer.

“So you’re going” he affirmed. When you didn't respond, he nodded his head. “Good. Should’ve expected it since your best friend’s one of the hosts. Well, I’ll see you there.” Before you could stop him, Harrison pushed Steven off of you. Your classmate stumbled back a bit, and Harrison took this time to quickly peck your cheek before turning on his heels and heading off.

You wiped at your face like a child, wishing he hadn’t done that. Still you couldn’t hide the tinge of pink that lit up on your face.

“What was that dude’s deal?” Steven asked, voice on edge.

“I’m so sorry. I dunno. He’s just my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. He just likes giving me a hard time” you explained. Was that all?

“He’s kinda an asshole.” He turned and looked at you before he continued. “No offense.” You didn’t realize your fists clenched upon hearing his insult. Were you getting mad about someone talking shit about Harrison? No, that didn’t seem like you. Of course you and Harrison were enemies. Steven wasn’t wrong. Right?

“Yeah...I guess” you responded, relaxing your hands.

“Hey. Thanks again.” And just like Harrison, he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek causing your face to flush. Oh okay. He grabbed the bags he set down before heading to his car. “See you in lit class” he called over his shoulder.

“See ya” you mumbled to yourself, unsure of what happened.

Harrison seemed to flood your social media feed after that incident. If you looked at Tom’s Instagram story, Harrison was always beside him. When you checked out Emma’s snaps, there was always a glimpse of the dirty blond in the background. He was everywhere. The worst was when he posted photos with different girls, all beautiful and all infatuated with Harrison. Did you expect anything less? In normal circumstances you’d be fuming at how Harrison acted. What kind of narcissistic asshole did that?

But things had changed. Even though he dominated your feed, it didn’t bother you much. By now Steven managed to creep up and occupy your thoughts and time, pushing Harrison to the side. After your holiday help, he constantly invited you to hang out.

From studying to group hangouts with his friends, you slowly joined Steven’s world. It was as if he brought you to a place you’d never been before. He was kind with you, always asking and praising your opinions. There was an ease to everything about him.

You loved talking with him and felt you could ramble without feeling embarrassed. In turn he trusted you with details about himself. You learned how he was fiercely protective of his younger sister, always intimidating boys who even looked her direction. He told you how he couldn’t stand the taste of kiwis and tomatoes, claiming they were disgusting. Whenever you studied and joked around, he laughed loudly and insisted you were one of the funniest people he ever met.

The more you learned about Steven, the more you wanted to stay a part of his life. It wasn’t just him. Even his friends welcomed you in with open arms. Of course it made sense that a great guy would surround himself with positive and warm friends.

You enjoyed this normalcy of having a regular crush. No worrying about embarrassing him at premieres. No panic about not fitting in due to your status. Simply put, there were no complications. Something about liking a hot guy who had a regular status felt so right.

During the night of the white elephant party, you rushed around the apartment while your roommate and her girlfriend relaxed on the couch.

“Where are you heading off to dressed like that?” Kimberly asked as you snatched up a discarded necklace from the coffee table and put it on.

“I’m dressed normal.” No, you weren’t. You chose your best outfit, something you felt complimented your body well. Content with the necklace choice, you searched for the perfect pair of earrings to complete your overall look.

“You’re dressed very cute. Like overly cute” Kimberly replied, now turning to sit up and watch you. “So where are you going again?”

“I’m going to a white elephant party. Um, Steven invited me.” You hastily scurried to your room to find your favorite hoops, hoping she wouldn’t pry. Of course you knew better.

“Steven, huh?” Sarah popped her head up from above the couch as well. “Who’s Steven?”

“Just this kid in my lit class” you brushed it off, doing your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You found one hoop and begun searching for its missing pair.

“Just some kid, huh?”

“I mean, he’s cute” you admitted, finding the missing hoop and putting on your earrings.

Sarah and Kimberly said nothing, just sharing smiles with themselves before eying you as you exited your room.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You grabbed the gift you chose for the exchange off the kitchen counter. Hopefully someone would want a half-off hair straightener.

As you entered the living room, Kimberly and Sarah still focused on you.

“So what’s the deal with Steven? You’ve never talked about him before” Kimberly pointed out.

“To be fair, we just recently” - you paused, trying to figure out the right words - “became friends.”

“Ah, okay. Is he a nice kid?”

“Yes, mom. He’s a nice guy” you joked.

“And Harrison?” Sarah questioned.

“What about Osterfield?” you snapped, hands resting on your hips. Just the mention of his name brought you into a foul mood.

“Didn't you guys have that-”

“If Lil Shit wants to play around, I don't care.” The way your voice rose up an octave indicated otherwise. “I'm not gonna be one of his little flings who jumps on his dick whenever he calls.” The two of them exchanged glances. “Not that I would ever be” you added hastily.

“So who cares about his stupid Instagram stories and those really pretty girls? I don't care.” The couple raised their eyebrows in unison.

“I don't!” you insisted. “I'm gonna have a great time without that asshole. In fact, I’m gonna enjoy this party and not even think about Lil Shit. I'm allowed to suck whatever dick I wanna. And you know what? Maybe I will!”

“How very heterosexual of you” Kimberly dryly commented.

“I mean, if that's what your apparently horny heart desires,Y/N, go for it” Sarah shrugged.

“It is” you claimed, convinced that you didn't need Harrison in your life.

Jitters consumed you as your Uber dropped you off at the party. Even though you hung out with his friends, this felt different. It felt like an initiation to prove your worth even though you knew it wasn’t a serious occasion.

Ringing the doorbell, you fidgeted in your clothes. You found yourself second guessing your choices, but there was no turning back now. You could hear music playing throughout the house and it grew louder as someone opened the door.

“Hi. I’m Y/N. Um, Steven invited me?” you nervously introduced yourself to the stranger at the door.

You heard your name being shouted before Steven rushed over to the entrance. “Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you in.

He began showing you around the place, introducing you to the friends you hadn’t met along the way. All of them were just as friendly as those you previously met, pulling you in for hugs and acting as if you were an old companion they hadn’t seen in a while.

Slowly you eased into the spirit of the party, finding it almost effortless to have a good time.

It didn’t go unnoticed how Steven kept his arm around your waist the entire night as the two of you stood around. When you were ushered to the couch by one of his friends, he pulled you close by his side.

This familiarity felt so warm and inviting, and you wondered if this was all in your mind or if he felt the same connection. You knew you couldn’t ask at that moment, at least not with the gathering going on. So instead you enjoyed yourself, laughing at the promised yet horrendous Cher performance by the infamous Toby.

After Toby took an elaborate bow, Steven lifted you out of the couch to perform a duet with him. You jokingly groaned, shaking your head. But with everyone cheering you on, you followed his lead to the front where he chose a mystery song claiming it was a classic. As “The Start of Something New” from High School Musical began playing, you burst into laughter. It was a good thing you knew it, playing up the part of an ever so shy Gabriella. Even so, you weren’t prepared for him to take your hand and twirl you around when the two of you sang in unison.

And you realized how fun this was with Steven. There was something about the way he kept holding your hand even after the two of you finished bowing and the way you could feel him watching you. It was simple yet held such significant meaning. At least you hoped it wasn’t just you.

When the party ended, Steven walked you outside where you waited on your ride. The two of you spoke about how finals were going and you laughed as he recalled an amusing event that happened in class a couple days prior.

Your fingers kept bumping into one another and you found yourself wanting him to grab your hand again. But in your mind you wondered: “Am I allowed to want more?” You knew that once you cared too much and it wasn’t reciprocated, you were playing yourself. “Please give me a sign” you prayed as his knuckles gently touched yours.

Steven slowly took your hand in his, intertwining fingers. You looked up at him and the two of you locked eyes. He slowly leaned in towards you, and your eyes fluttered shut at what you knew was coming.

It was a simple kiss, but it was enough to get your heart racing. An attractive boy was actually into you? And actually made a move? It felt like a dream, yet when your eyes opened there was Steven’s green eyes twinkling back at yours.

“I think you’re amazing” he whispered. You heard a car pull up to the curb, but you didn’t want the moment to end. He kissed you once more before finally letting go, allowing you to get in to your Uber.

He wished you a good night, closing the door for you. Once you were a couple blocks away, you realized you had been smiling so wide that your face was sore. So this was happiness? This was what it was like for someone to like you back? Oh, you could get used to that.

This was it. This was what you were waiting for. It wasn’t complicated. There weren’t any heartbreaks involved. It was nothing but pure bliss.

Even with exams around the corner, you obsessed over Steven. The two of you constantly texted one another, allowing you initial plan of being studious to fly out the window. Most days were spent being around him or thinking about him.

You felt bad not inviting him to Tom and Emma’s Christmas party, but he didn’t know about Tom. While you knew Tom wouldn’t mind another friendly face, you weren’t sure how Steven would react. Would he freak out and lose his mind? Or would he spit at Tom and tell him that his Spider-Man sucked? Obviously they were opposite ends of the spectrum reactions, but you didn’t want to deal with the potential chaos. Plus you wanted to keep Steven to yourself for just a bit longer. It was a bit selfish, but you were allowed to be. Right?

Plus one person you knew wouldn’t enjoy seeing Steven’s face.

You hadn’t seen him for a while, which honestly was fine by you. In fact, you hadn’t wanted to see him. After the white elephant party, your totally minor crush from before was long gone. Goodbye old terrible feelings. Hello horny new ones.

That was until the night of Emma and Tom’s party.

You flipped through channels on TV, waiting for Emma to arrive. The plan was for her to pick up and drive you, Kimberly, and Sarah to the party. The doorbell rang prompting you to click off the television before greeting Emma. Your face dropped when you opened the door revealing Harrison on the other side. God fucking damnit.

“Where’s Emma” you questioned, skipping the formalities of greeting him politely. He lost that privilege, especially after the last time you saw him.

“Helping Tom. She asked me to pick you guys up” he explained.

“Are you serious?”

“Yup.” He nodded his head, clearly enjoying the irritated confusion crossing your face. “Looks like I’m your ride. Or your knight in shining armor.”

“More like an idiot who happens to own a car.”

“Eh. Not your best insult.”

“That’s cause I’ve been too busy to perfect my lines.”

“Oh, so that was a line?” his eyebrow quirked up.

“Yeah, a line to have you fuck right off” you instantly responded, afraid he might’ve taken your last quip seriously.

“Aw, you can do better than that, Lil Skunk” he tutted, pretending to be disappointed.

“You don’t deserve my best, Lil Shit.”

“Oh, Harrison’s here” Kimberly piped up from behind you. Glancing back at her room, she called out “Sarah! Harrison’s finally here! Let’s go, babe!”

Why did Kimberly sound so nonchalant about Harrison’s arrival? She should’ve been shocked and outraged by his arrival. Perhaps not outraged but at least a little surprised. “You knew Osterfield was coming to pick us up instead of Ems?”

“‘Course we knew” Sarah revealed as she tugged on her jacket, pulling Kimberly’s door shut.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Your hands snapped to your waist, glaring at the group.

Kimberly shrugged while Sarah just let out a laugh. The trickery of them all.

The group shuffled out of the apartment and into Harrison’s car. As Sarah and Kimberly piled into the back, Sarah pulled the door close before you could follow. Yanking on the car door handle, you shouted for them to let you in, but they deviously shook their heads and pointed for you to sit in the front. Grumbling under your breath, you slid into the passenger seat.

On the car ride to the party, Harrison chatted with you despite your snippy tone and one-word retorts.

“Surprised you didn’t invite one of your ‘special’ friends” you grunted as you avoided his question about how exam were going.

“What’re you talking about?” Shit. You hadn’t expected Harrison to catch that bit. Guess he had better hearing than you thought.

“Those girls. From your stories” you elaborated just barely.

As he slowed down to a red light, he turned and fully looked at you. “Are you jealous?”

“Pfft! No! Why would I?” you sputtered. It was enough for Harrison to know better, know what you actually meant.

“Whatever you say, Lil Skunk.” He turned back to focus on driving, watching you fidget out of the corner of his eye.

When you finally arrived at the party, you hopped out only to get immediately greeted and hugged by Emma. She walked you around the house Tom rented for the night and you gawked at the glamorous sight. Tom spared no expense in decorating every inch of the place with Christmas trees adorned with ornaments and lights twinkling in every room.

The best part of the entire party had to be the open bar. Seeing as you hadn’t enjoyed Halloween’s drinking festivities, you planned on making it up during this party. Initially you ordered a spritzer, unsure if you really wanted to get drunk. Was that doing the most? Spotting all the couples in attendance, all concerns about going overboard went out the window. How in the world did everyone find someone to love them for the holiday season? You regretted not inviting Steven, wishing someone would wrap their arms around you by the fireside.

Strangely enough you found yourself spending most of your time with Harrison. He approached you after your third drink, this time a gin and tonic rather than a spritzer and with a heavy emphasis on the gin. Shoutout to Kenneth the bartender for the major hookup on that.

“What’s that - your fifth drink?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“It’s my fourth, I’ll have you know” you corrected him, pointing his direction letting the drink slosh out of your cup.

“Ah, yes. Of course. How dumb of me. Sorry I couldn’t figure out how drunk you were.”

“M’not drunk!” you retorted indignantly.

“‘Course you’re not” he sarcastically agreed, sliding down to take a seat next to you.

The two of you proceeded to argue with one another from which drink was best for this party to the greatest video game of all time. Some things he would have agreed with you on, but he found it much more entertaining seeing you get riled up about your passions.

As you later waved your arm out to insist that Tom Hardy was the best Tom in the Marvel universe - Tom Holland included - you accidentally smacked Emma who rushed by.

“Sorry!” you slurred as Harrison took your cup from you so you could hug your best friend without spilling your drink all over her. “Didn’t mean to do that!”

“It’s alright, Y/N. Should’ve been paying attention, but I was kinda looking for someone to grab a couple more candy canes and cider for the party” she explained.

“I can do that!” you volunteered, raising your hand as if you were in class.

“You haven’t got a car” Harrison stifled a laugh.

“Even if you did, you’re not sober” Emma added.

You shook your head and slapped your cheeks. Quick fix. “I’m sober!” you insisted as Harrison laughed and Emma shook her head.

Standing up from the bar, Harrison pulled his keys from out of his pocket. “We can grab those things for you, Em.”

Oh, no. There was no way you were going with him. Shaking your head once more, you stomped your foot in irritation. “No, you go by yourself then. I’m not coming with you.”

“You’d leave me all alone and defenseless?” You bobbed your head up and down in response causing him to laugh again. “I’ll buy you those chocolate candy canes you love so much” he coaxed you. Had you told him your preference in candy canes or did he just remember? You weren’t sure. Still, you liked the idea of having those.

You paused, pretending to mull over the decision. “Fine, but I get shotgun” you announced. Harrison rolled his eyes and nodded. Of course you would get shotgun. Where else would you sit? The back? But in your drunken state you weren’t properly thinking things through.

Emma thanked the pair of you before hurrying off to help with hostess duties. Letting the alcohol consume your actions, you found yourself skipping to his car before jumping in.

“You’re like an Uber driver” you commented to Harrison, giggling at how funny you thought you were.

“Am I now?” he asked as he entertained your idea. He started the car and as he pulled out of the driveway, you nodded your head. “Would you give me a five star rating for driving you around?”

“No, you’d get a one. Get better playlists, Osterfield.” You laughed uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of it all while he laughed at your silliness, obviously enjoying every second of your drunk commentary.

When he parked in the grocery store lot, he helped open your door and watched you carefully as you fumbled out. As he placed a hand behind the small of your back, you found yourself leaning in towards him. Of course it was to steady yourself and nothing more. Of course.

The two of you shuffled around, him pointing out how you would get lost in the store without him as you argued that you could make your way around easily.

Somewhere down the line the bickering felt natural, no malice underneath either of you words. You weren’t sure when or how but now you found fighting with him oddly...Nice. What the fuck?

No, you weren’t going down that road again. You knew better. You reminded yourself that you had someone who cared about you that wasn’t going to toy with your feelings. Not getting played like Boo Boo the Fool this time.

The two of you split up as you insisted that you could find your favorite flavor without his guidance. When you finally found them, you grabbed a couple boxes letting them pile up in your arms. You turned around to find Harrison but instead spotted Steven a couple aisles down.

God, Steven looked so good. With a dark hoodie and a maroon beanie, he looked like a model that it took your breath away. Balancing the boxes in one hand, you were about to raise your free hand when a girl approached him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he turned her direction. Steven wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close before kissing her deeply.

Oh.

You sobered up quickly as you watched the scene unfold. As she pulled her head back and smiled up at Steven, he crinkled his nose before kissing her once more.

Oh.

The candy cane boxes tumbled out of your arms and crashed to the ground, yet the couple didn’t notice. The two were too preoccupied with one another’s presence, Steven cupping her face before she said something that made him pepper kisses along her jaw.

Oh.

“Lil Skunk, I found-” Harrison begun but saw you frozen in place and cut his sentence short. His eyes followed your stare to see what you saw. His eyes shut and he took a deep breath. When he opened them, he winced knowing that there was nothing he could really say to you in that moment.

Your heart pounded loudly and you struggled to breath. Your bottom lip trembled, still focused on the sight that was breaking you with every second.

Harrison quickly grabbed your hand, guiding you away from the scene. Still you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Steven and the beautiful girl he now laughed with. Was it the same things you laughed about at the White Elephant party? Or was she funnier than you? Were your jokes lame in comparison to hers? But the biggest question that haunted you the most kept repeating over and over: had that night and that kiss meant nothing to Steven?

It wasn’t until Harrison stepped to your other side, blocking your view of the couple, that you finally stopped staring.

As Harrison went to pay he held your hand in his, glancing at you every so often. Your eyes stared off into space, not focusing on anything in particular as you kept thinking about Steven and the mystery girl. You went through the motions as Harrison opened the car door for you, telling you to get in. He found himself repeating his words, instructing you to buckle your seatbelt until he finally watched you click it in.

The street lights washed over your face yet all you could do was thinking about the scene. As it replayed over in your mind, you felt almost numb. Your eyes glossed over, remembering how he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you. Had Steven meant it? Or were you the practice round for the real deal?

By the time Harrison parked outside the party, you still weren’t all there. It was as if your mind was preoccupied by the numbness to think of anything else. You could hear him calling your name, a clear concern when he repeated himself a third time. “We’re here. You can unbuckle your seatbelt.” When you didn’t move, he decided to release it for you. It slid off your chest and back into the holder, not phasing you in the slightest.

“I think you’re amazing” Steven’s words echoed in your mind. But do you?

You heard your name called and by the fifth time, you finally turned and looked towards Harrison. “Y/N-” he started, leaning towards you. Why was he looking at you like that? His pained expression only added to your confusion. You turned away, facing towards the window.

“I think you’re amazing.” Then why did you kiss her? Why did you look at her like that? Why were you holding her?

Without any prompt, you begun telling Harrison about the night of the white elephant party. As you spoke, you heard your voice getting heavier with each word. It felt like you were choking out every syllable until finally you couldn’t take anymore, and you finally broke. You burst into tears, sobbing heavily. Why couldn’t he have liked you? Why were you never the one?

So many questions filled your mind and it poured out in tears in response. You weren’t sure when it happened, but Harrison gently wrapped you in his arms, stroking your hair. You sobbed with only the sound of the boy next to you whispering to let it all out. And you did as you were instructed, crying harder and louder until you couldn’t cry anything else.

“I’m so sorry” Harrison murmured as he held you close. “I’m so so sorry.”

Once you exhausted yourself from crying, you felt your eyes growing heavy. You didn’t want to fall asleep, but there was something comforting about Harrison’s arms that you couldn’t help but doze off. All thoughts about the party, the mystery girl, and Steven vanished as your eyes shut.

When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were no longer in Harrison’s car. Slowly turning your head, you blinked trying your best to wake up from your tired state. You looked up to see Harrison carrying you.

Noticing you stirring in his arms, he looked down and softly smiled at you. “I’m just bringing you back to your apartment, love” he explained. Oh, God. He hadn’t called you by that in a while. There was something about that nickname that always made your heart flutter.

You sighed deeply, resting your head against his chest.

It was strange having him carry you into your apartment with such ease. And yet this kindness was more than welcome.

Lightly kicking open your door, he placed you down on your bed. Before you could say anything, he begun tucking you in. He murmured that you needed to get rest. The idea was tempting, yet you found yourself trying to get up.

“C’mon, love. Just rest, alright?” he persuaded you to lay back under the covers.

“What about the party? I have to explain things to Emma” you insisted though you didn’t move.

“I already let her know that you weren’t feeling well and that I was taking you home” he explained. How kind of him to cover like that. You wondered how that conversation transpired but knew he would brush it off as no big deal and refuse to explain.

“Just get some rest” his voice encouraged, eyes finally softening as you relaxed into your bed. Right as he was about to leave, you grabbed his hand. He turned and looked at you.

“Am I-” you stopped, nervous to continue your thoughts out loud. But something in Harrison’s warm glance asked you to continue. “Am I just not capable of being loved or something? Like am I just never gonna be someone’s special person?” you choked out, tears starting to form again.

He quickly took a seat next to you. “You are. And you will be” he attempted to reassure you. “That guy-” Harrison paused, brushing his free hand through his hair. “That guy’s a fuckin’ prick. He’s an idiot, Y/N. He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”

“That other girl was so pretty, though. So much prettier than me-”

“Stop it. Don’t do that. Don’t…” he seemed lost for the right words to comfort you.

“I’m probably gonna die alone, and they’re only gonna find me because dogs will be eating my body” you sniffled.

He smiled at that one, grazing a hand on your face to wipe away the tears. “I promise you that won’t happen.” Don’t promise what you can’t keep.

Right as he was about to stand up and leave, you squeezed his hand. You didn’t want him to go. At least not yet. Something about his presence felt comforting and you wished you could just intertwine your fingers with his. Was it okay to want more with Harrison?

“Will you stay? Please?”

Harrison looked startled by your request. After all, no swearing or calling him by his usual nickname? You even added please with no sarcastic tone. Obviously this wasn’t the relationship he was used to. He looked at your door before turning back and nodding his head.

He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket; the only time he let go of your hand was to take off his coat, but quickly grabbed hold of your hand once more as the jacket hit the ground. You scooted towards the other side of the bed, allowing him space to join you.

“I mean it, Y/N.” You could feel your eyes getting heavy. “I meant everything I said.” It was hard keeping your eyes open even though you wanted nothing more than to keep taking in his features.

His voice murmured for you to sleep, lulling you to rest. You closed your eyes as he told you how strong you were and how you deserved so much better. But who was better?

You felt him gently caress your cheek and kiss your forehead before you finally dozed off.

Soft chirps woke you the next day. Your eyes fluttered open and looked towards the window to see light seeping in. Last night felt like an out of body experience, as if it wasn’t particularly real. Yet you knew there was no denying all the events that occurred.

You turned to see the other side of your bed empty. No Harrison at all. Sitting up you looked at your side desk, hoping to see something. No note. Nothing. You rummaged through your purse to find your phone at ten percent. There were a couple texts from Emma and Tom, but no message from Harrison. You charged your phone before sighing and falling back onto your mattress.

And there was the truth of it all. He could give you false hope, make you think something might’ve been happening, but he never stayed. After all, you weren’t his. To him you were just Lil Skunk, a friend of a friend’s. He could say otherwise, but you both knew better. You were just a pastime, someone to tease until he moved onto better things. He could find prettier girls to occupy his time so why waste it on you? The empty space said it all: Harrison didn’t and wouldn’t ever like you in that sort of way.

Even if Harrison was right about what he said yesterday, not even he stayed for you. Not really.

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz | @butithasntkilledyouyet, @chims-kookies, @choke-me-sweet-pea, @highladyjel, @sadnoelle, @sleepwalkingdragon, @soccerstud004, @spider-mendes, @thefallenbibliophilequote

part six | part six [clean-ish]

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you #haz osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #my writing #fic: not so subtle

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danfanciesphil · 6 years

Text

Give Me A Try (New Chapter)

Gay Instagram Model/Bartender Phan AU Part 3

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Read on Ao3!)

Dan’s in the middle of his break, scrolling through his phone, when a text notification appears at the top of his screen. He drops his bagel into his lap, cursing.

The text is from Phil. He doesn’t know any other Phil’s, so it has to be AmazingPhil, texting him, inexplicably.

He clicks the notification, eyes wide, simultaneously scooping up the bagel bits that have fallen onto his knees.

From: Phil To: Dan im in makeup for a weird photoshoot for some korean clothing brand and they just put loads of silver goo in my hair to make it chromey

As Dan is reading the message, searching between the lines for a reason Phil might be telling him this information, another text pings through.

From: Phil To: Dan whoops, i kinda meant to send that to PJ. but hey, if you’re interested, here’s a pic of me with ‘Kpop Idol Silver Hair Paste’ in lol xx

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

The phone slips from Dan’s fingers, clattering through his legs to the floor of the staff room. Phil has sent him a selfie. An un-edited, un-Instagrammed photo of his breathtaking face, up close. Sure, there’s a weird silvery goop in his usually raven hair, but still. Gingerly, Dan retrieves the phone, a small, strangled sound escaping from his throat as he surveys the image in front of him.

It makes a little more sense now that Phil has informed him that he had actually mistakenly texted the original message, but did the guy really have to follow up with a photo? He must, surely, be aware of Dan’s crush. He witnessed the brunt of Dan’s obsessive stalking in person on his phone, after all.

Bagel entirely forgotten, Dan just stares down into the pixelated blue of Phil Lester’s eyes, wondering how to respond, and if he even should. Deciding eventually that it would be rude not to, Dan shakily types out something he hopes is vaguely witty.

From: Dan To: Phil hahaha wow :’) kpop? more like kpoop. (it looks like bird poop, sorry dude.) x

From: Phil To: Dan hahaha it does ur so right. and if you think thats bad you should see the outfits… xx

Settling back into his chair, Dan bites his lip. As he thinks of a potential response, his eyes wander over to the spot, just to the right of him, where he and Phil had stood not long ago, when it had seemed like maybe, possibly, Phil might’ve…

But obviously that’s absurd.

Dan’s wishful thinking had clearly driven him to the point of hallucination, because the very notion that Phil Lester, AmazingPhil, the famous Instagram model, would ever have looked at Dan as anything more than a random bartender, is laughable.

Dan sighs to himself, then smirks. Well, just because he has no chance, doesn’t mean he can’t utilise his semi-connection to the celebrity to get some behind-the-scenes footage of his fave.

From: Dan To: Phil well now i have to see x

There’s a noticeable pause, and Dan wonders, panicking vaguely, if he may have pushed too far. Is it a little much to ask this of Phil? Maybe he just won’t respond, and Dan will have to quit his job forever, or maybe just spend his shifts on red alert that Phil will wander into the bar, and hide from him if he does-

He texts back.

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

From: Phil To: Dan hot, right? xx

For two long, uninterrupted minutes, Dan is frozen. Then, he lets out a muffled groan of frustration. The photo Phil sent is a full body shot taken by someone else; he’s dressed in an asymmetrical long white t-shirt with several long rips through the chest, some bright pink camouflage trousers, and a shiny silver puffer jacket with a black fur-lined hood. The outfit is a complete disaster, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. His chest is visible through the slits in the tee; having seen it twice now IRL, Dan is drawn to the slivers he can see. The trousers make his eyes pop, and the jacket matches the silver streaked through his hair.

His pose is casual, feet apart, smirking at the camera, with his hands gesturing to his body as if to say ‘see what i mean?’. If he’d posted this on his Instagram, Dan gets the feeling he’d have saved it to his camera roll anyway, maybe even made it his phone background.

Dan’s done that with a few of his favourite photos of Phil in the past. He won’t even dwell on the time when Phil posted a photo of himself in the bath and Dan, in a semi-sleep-deprived fit of insanity, printed the photo out and stuck it on his wall.

Tyler came over once, weeks later, saw the photo taped above Dan’s bed, and tore the thing down. He’d told Dan, quite rightly, to stop being such a creep and keep his crazed obsessive behaviour to social media like everyone else.

“Who even has physical photos these days?? You’re like a fucking serial killer!”

Dan chuckles at this memory. He’s glad for Tyler, sometimes, even if he’s only good for keeping Dan’s stalkerish behaviour within the realms of normalcy.

Belatedly, he realises it’s been over five minutes and he still hasn’t responded to Phil. Also, his break is close to being over.

From: Dan To: Phil woww. please, phil of the future, tell me what life is like in 2087 x

From: Phil To: Dan stawwp. i keep laughing out loud at what ur saying and now the designer is sending me death glares :’’’D xx

Trying hard to ignore the fact that his dorky jokes are apparently literally making Phil ‘lol’, Dan checks the time, and sighs, typing out another message.

From: Dan To: Phil is the designer a martian? or maybe secretly one of those reptile-people? maybe skin him just to be safe. also my break is over so i gtg. have fun on set of NASA’s moonlanding recreation x

From: Phil To: Dan aww ur at work too? that sux. i forgot that u work at night lol. hope u stay dry this evening ;) xx

From: Dan To: Phil speaking of… why are u at work? isnt it kind of late for a photoshoot? x

From: Phil To: Dan well its 8am here so no haha xx

From: Dan To: Phil where are you? x

From: Phil To: Dan seoul :) hence the… unusual fashion lol xx

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He stands from his chair, throws his half eaten bagel in the trash, and looks around himself. He’s in the staff room - a small, dusty space with a row of falling apart lockers, a couple of chairs and a small table. There’s a hook on the wall which holds a load of unused aprons, and a rusty heater for when it’s especially cold.

He’s about to go back out to serve a load of rowdy customers some overpriced cocktails, then mop a dancefloor sticky with sweat, alcohol, and whatever other liquids might have found their way there. Then, he’s going to go back to his crummy flat way across in Kemptown, unfold his sofabed, and fall asleep to Netflix.

Phil, on the other side of the world in Korea, is having his hair, makeup and wardrobe done by professionals. He’s being treated like a celebrity, no doubt, and pampered excessively. Later, he’ll receive high-definition, professional photographs of himself looking gorgeous, and post them to his Instagram, where millions of people will tell him how stunning he looks.

Dan sighs to himself. How the other half lives.

The following day, Dan wakes up to find that Phil has updated his Instagram story, and posted the photo with the silver goo in his hair. The same one he’d sent to Dan. The caption reads:

Not sure silver hair was a good idea! The designer was going for Kpop, but ended up with Kpoop… can’t wait to show you guys the photos from this shoot! xx

Two things cross Dan’s mind.

First, Dan can now officially state that he had a sneak-peek at an official AmazingPhil photo before it was posted.

Second, the bitch totally stole his joke.

He smiles to himself ruefully, then decides to leave a comment. There’s no way that Phil will even see it - he’s never seen any of Dan’s others, or at least Dan sincerely hopes he hasn’t, as they’re mostly things like ‘choke me’ or ‘slap me round the face with your yaoi hands dad’.

Okay, maybe he tends to leave those sorts of comments when he’s less than sober.

This time, Dan just taps out a simple:

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

Still smiling to himself, Dan rolls over onto his side, and settles in to watch Phil’s story. The stories are usually long, silly, and full of adorable clips of Phil being clumsy and cute. As expected, this one is no exception. It’s a tour of Phil’s hotel room in Seoul, which is very posh.

Phil exclaims over the origami hand towels on his bed, the robe provided for him in the wardrobe, and the multiple options on the ‘disco shower’ as he calls it. Just as Dan is marvelling at the panoramic shot Phil has filmed of his view from the balcony, a notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil replied to your comment: joke stealing is…

Dan sits bolt upright in bed, the sheets falling off him. He runs a hand through his messy hair, eyes wide. He clicks the notification before it disappears, heart pounding.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Dan hadn’t intended for him to actually see. What if Phil thinks he’s being rude? He doesn’t actually mind Phil stealing his stupid joke about the hair goo. It’s an honour, if anything, that Phil finds his dumb joke good enough to post as a caption millions of people will read.

Heart thrumming, Dan finds the response Phil left.

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

amazingphil: @danisnotonfire aha i was kinda hoping you wouldn’t see ;D

Another notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil started following you

“Holy shit,” Dan says to nobody.

amazingphil liked your photo

“Fuck,” Dan squeaks, clutching his pillow for support. “Stop it Phil, I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Curious, Dan clicks the last notification, wondering which photo it was that Phil pressed the little heart for. To his surprise, it’s a selfie, one he took at work around a month ago. He took it during a lull between serving, if he remembers correctly. The lighting hadn’t been awful when he was doing his hourly fringe check in his phone camera, so he’d snapped a pic. It’s nothing special, just a moody expression and a wash of pink lighting across one half of his face.

amazingphil commented on your photo

amazingphil: nice pout ;) xx

Dan falls back into the pillows, mind obliterating itself into a thousand, tiny pieces.

Over the next few weeks, Dan has several text conversations with Phil. They’re usually started by Phil himself, who will - out of what Dan assumes is boredom - sometimes send him a random meme, a musing about his surroundings, or a selfie. For obvious reasons, Dan prefers the latter.

No matter how many times Phil reaches out via text, the surreality of it never fails to send Dan’s mind freewheeling. It always knocks the wind out of his lungs, it always makes him stop dead in his tracks, and it always leaves him struggling to recover for the next few hours. Whenever this happens at work, Tyler never fails to tease him mercilessly.

“Whoops! Please excuse him, sir, his mind has been blended by a single text from his crush,” Tyler tells a customer the fifth time Dan drops a glass behind the bar.

Dan scowls at his friend, but doesn’t try to defend himself. It’s true, after all. One text from Phil has him behaving like a moron. He becomes physically inept, unable to make the simplest drink.

One night, after the bar has closed, Dan and Tyler are cleaning up.

“So when’s he gonna stop torturing you over text and come sweep you off your beer-drenched tootsies?”

Dan rolls his eyes at this. “He’s not, Ty. He’s a rich and famous superstar, and I’m clearing up puke for the third day in a row.”

Dan wrinkles his nose as he continues mopping up the patch of vomit. He’s suspicious at this point; three days in a row is unusual. Is the same person coming in each night and spewing their guts all over the dance floor out of spite? Perhaps it’s some sort of hate crime.

“It’s like a Cinderella story!” Ty exclaims, pirouetting around his broom. “Except it’s gay, which makes it even better.”

Dan scoffs at him. “I’m pretty sure fairytales don’t involve stalking someone over social media and having them find out. He’s just taking pity on me because he saw that first night that I’m a fan.” Dan dunks the mop back in the bucket, turning to Tyler. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he has a boyfriend.”

Tyler sucks in a scandalised breath. “What! Who?”

Dragging the mop back to the supply closet, Dan laughs. “Remember the drunk guy he came with? The one who gave me a lovely Rainforest shower?”

“Him?”

Dan sighs, locks the cupboard, and nods. He digs into his pocket for his phone, and brings it over to show Tyler the photo of Phil and Charlie kissing. Matt, the security guard wanders over to see as well, letting out a low whistle.

“He’s a nonce if he thinks that guy’s behaviour was attractive,” Matt says. “He puked ‘soon as I got him out the door that night. All over the pavement.”

Dan looks at Matt, tilting his head in interest. “He did?”

Tyler plucks the phone out of Dan’s hand, zooming into the photo to have a better look, a frown on his face.

“Yep, your friend there came out, called him an Uber and sent him off,” Matt says. “Doubt pukey there would’ve made it home without him.”

“Nice guy,” Dan mutters, cheeks warm.

“This is staged,” Tyler announces abruptly.

“What?”

“Look,” he says, bringing the phone back over for Dan to see.

He zooms in on the crux of the kiss, right onto Phil’s face. Dan grimaces.

“Ty, I don’t want to see-”

“Shut up and look at his face,” Tyler interrupts, grabbing Dan’s chin and angling it towards the phone. “See how his lips are puckered? All stiff and pointed, like he’s kissing his grandma. And his eyes are open.”

“He’s looking at the camera!”

“Nah, Tyler’s right mate,” Matt says. The gum he’s chewing is making gross squishy sounds right in Dan’s ear as he leans over to look. “He looks awkward as hell.”

Dan narrows his eyes at the photo, trying to see what the others see.

“Besides, didn’t you say he hated that guy?” Tyler asks, clicking off the photo.

Dan tuts, snatching his phone back. “Well, apparently he was just being nice to compensate for the fact his kissing buddy covered me in sugary cocktail.”

He makes the smart decision to step away from this preposterous conversation before he does something stupid. Like allow either of these morons to give him hope that Phil is actually single.

Not that Phil being single would even matter.

“Or he was making it clear that he’s available!” Tyler calls after him as Dan stalks over to the staff room. “He whipped his shirt off for you twice and gave you his number. Do you think he’d do that if he had a boyfriend?”

“Drop it, Ty!” Dan calls back, shutting the staff room door behind him.

He will not let himself fall into the trap of daring to believe he could get someone as gorgeous, as hilarious, as pure and… amazing, as Phil Lester.

He won’t.

This is a good philosophy, in theory.

In practise, it turns out to be a lot more difficult. Dan finds this out to his cost when Phil strolls into Habenero the following Friday with Charlie Hickory at his side. Dan’s stomach sinks as soon as he sees the pair, the butterflies that appear each time Phil so much as acknowledges exploding into dust the moment he registers who Phil is here with.

Phil makes a beeline for the bar, a big smile on his face as he sees Dan. Warily, Dan smiles back, very aware that he is not exactly Charlie’s biggest fan.

“Dan!” Phil sings, chipper as ever.

Blushing already, Dan waves an awkward hand. He will never, he’s sure, get used to hearing his name on Phil Lester’s lips. “Hi. You’re back.”

“Of course! This is my local hangout now,” Phil says, winking. “Great cocktails, cute bar staff, crazy Bingo nights… this place has got it all.”

“Some people might not agree with you about the cocktails,” Dan can’t help himself saying, glancing at Charlie.

Charlie shuffles awkwardly on the spot. “Right,” he says, casting a look at Phil. They share a look that seems loaded with something Dan is not privy to, and then Charlie sighs, turning to Dan. “I wanted to, uh, apologise. About last time. Totally not cool of me to… tell you off like that. I was wasted.”

For an awkward moment, Dan waits for the actual word ‘sorry’ to leave Charlie’s mouth. It becomes obvious fairly swiftly that the dude feels he’s already said enough, so Dan just gives him a tight smile, and clears his throat.

“Oh, yeah man,” he says. “Let’s just… move on, I guess.”

If Charlie won’t say sorry, then Dan’s sure as hell not going to say he forgives him.

“So, drinks?” Phil asks, seeming to sense the taut atmosphere. “Maybe not cocktails?”

Dan can’t help the splutter of laughter, but Charlie shoots a dagger-like glare Phil’s way. It makes Dan’s lip curl; how could anyone be angry with Phil, of all people?

“Maybe some beers?” Dan suggests, teeth clenched. “We have a load of craft beers, or if you’re more into spirits I could make you guys a-”

“I’ll have a vodka and light tonic, no ice,” Charlie interrupts. “A double. If you use regular tonic, I will know.”

“Charlie,” Phil hisses under his breath.

They exchange another loaded look, and again Charlie sighs, turning to Dan with a fake smile. “Please.”

Swallowing the urge to roll his eyes, Dan nods, then gladly turns his attention to Phil. “And for you?”

“Oh,” Phil says, like it’s only just occurred to him that he needs to order as well. “God, I’m so bad at deciding, err…”

As he’s dithering, Charlie sighs. “Are you cool to get these, Phil? I’m gonna go find us a table.”

“You don’t wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

Phil nods, obviously disappointed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll meet you in the back.”

With that, Charlie is gone, slipping into the crowd. The look of distaste must be more evident on Dan’s face than he thinks, because Phil laughs at it.

“I know,” Phil says. “But he does have a few… marginally amiable qualities.”

‘Why have you chosen to be with someone that’s marginally amiable when you’re so great,’ is what Dan wants to ask. Instead, he simply shrugs, deciding to change the subject.

“Have you decided on a drink yet? I’d better get on with making his low-cal dishwater.”

Phil laughs a little, then leans forwards, his smile deepening as he leans across the bar. “Surprise me.”

Something sparks a roman candle in Dan’s stomach, and his skin prickles with the heat it creates. He drags his eyes free of Phil’s with some difficulty, nodding, and turns to make the drinks.

He prepares Phil a ‘PopQueen’ cocktail, which is one of their most popular. It’s inspired by popcorn, along with the trio of Pop Queens that rule the gay music scene: Gaga, RiRi, and Bey. The moscato vodka base is made from Italian grapes to represent Gaga’s heritage, the spiced rum is a shoutout to Bey’s favourite drink, and Riri comes in in the form of a smoky splash of passion fruit bitter. The rest is topped up with popcorn syrup, lemonade, a sprinkle of caramel popcorn kernels, and as many sparkly cocktail sticks as Dan can fit in.

He explains the whole concoction to Phil as he presents it, a little smug because he knows this is an impressive looking cocktail. It’s probably his favourite one to make; the Viniq shimmery moscato vodka makes the drink swirl and shimmer - always exceptionally pretty.

Sure enough, Phil’s mouth drops open at the sight of it. “Okay wow,” Phil says, chuckling. “I’m gonna get drunk tonight, aren’t I?”

“If that’s your plan, this should definitely help you on your way,” Dan says, laughing too. “I wouldn’t recommend having a second if you want to remember your evening.”

Phil leans forwards to take a sip of the PopQueen, moaning around the straw, much to Dan’s dismay. He plucks one of the popcorn pieces off and eats it, eyes closed. In related news, Dan struggles not to fall to the floor. “Dan, you are an artiste,” Phil says. “Popcorn is my all time favourite food.”

“Oh, wow, that’s... lucky, I guess,” Dan stammers, a swell of pride surging up into his chest. “Glad you like it.”

“So, how much?”

“Oh, on the house.” Dan smiles, sliding the cocktail across the bar along with Charlie’s vodka tonic. “I feel bad for not letting you in on the forfeit for Bingo last time.”

The look on Phil’s face softens into something so sweet Dan can taste sugar on his tongue.

“You don’t have to do that,” Phil says softly.

“It’s fine, really,” Dan assures him, all but sliding his elbows across the bar towards him. “I insist.”

A twitch in the corner of Phil’s mouth, and then he’s leaning across the bar. It happens slowly, but Dan still manages to be caught off guard. One moment, he’s watching, bemused, as Phil inches towards him, and the next there’s a light press of paper-soft lips to his cheek. A scratch of stubble grazes over Dan’s skin as Phil leans away.

“Thanks,” Phil tells him, smiling. “You’re sweet, Dan.”

And then he’s turning away, drinks in hand, slipping into the mass of people.

For the next few hours, Dan hopes for Phil to return to the bar for another round. He waits, eagerly, for this moment to come. Instead, Charlie is the one who brings his and Phil’s glasses back over, and waves to flag down Dan’s attention.

He nods in acknowledgement, finishing up the drinks order he’s in the middle of, and sidling over to Charlie. He forces a strained smile.

“Same again?”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, digging out his phone. “And a couple of vodka shots.”

He says nothing else, eyes glued to his phone screen. Dan waits for a moment before moving off, eyes stuck to Charlie’s face. He’s the kind of gorgeous that shouldn’t exist in real life. Unblemished, tanned skin. Clean, dark stubble, lacing his perfect, razorblade jawline. His hair is a swoop of glossy mahogany; even the cut of it looks expensive.

Charlie’s eyes flick up to Dan’s, obviously questioning why he’s staring, so Dan nods, embarrassed, and hurries to make the drinks. From a superficial standpoint, it’s obvious why Phil is with Charlie. Obviously, in Dan’s eyes, Phil is the most attractive man on the planet, but that’s just because he’s Dan’s type. Even he can tell that Charlie is objectively a beautiful human being.

It’s just a shame about everything below the surface level.

Dan pours the two shots Charlie ordered. “All together it’s twenty pounds, please.”

Charlie snorts, then pockets his phone at last. “Figures you’d give Phil the discount.”

He pulls out a twenty and slaps it on the counter.

“Sorry, I can’t give you guys free drinks all night.”

Charlie just stares back at him, a faint, knowing smile caught on his dusty pink lips. One of this thick eyebrows is slightly quirked, sliding an irritation under Dan’s skin. “Listen, Danny, is it?”

“Dan,” he grits.

“Dan,” Charlie says, leaning across the bar. “A little advice, yeah? Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.”

He downs both the shots in quick succession, baffling Dan, who is frozen, mortified, to the spot. Before his brain can thaw enough to stammer out some witty rebuttal, Charlie has swept the drinks off the counter, and is moving away.

Cheeks burning, Dan turns around, trying to calm his boiling blood. He squeezes his fists together, counting to ten, the way he makes himself after all encounters with dickhead customers.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, can we get some drinks over here, please?”

With a deep sigh, Dan unclenches his fists, and turns to the next customer.

At around one in the morning, Dan runs to the bathroom for a minute, and on his way, he sees Charlie. He’s against the wall of the club, near the DJ booth. There’s a muscular, dark-skinned man pressing him there; their faces are close. Dan can’t stop, he’s left Tyler and Dodie to the mercy of the drunks in their worst state - things get rowdy an hour before closing - and he needs to get back there. So, instead, he simply tucks the image away in his mind, to think about later on.

That man, leant against Charlie in a less-than-innocent seeming stance, was certainly not Phil, after all. As he exits the bathroom, he notices that Charlie is gone, as is whoever was with him.

At 1:55am, the lights come on. As usual, an enormous groan chants out of the crowd of patrons on the dance floor, followed by a few pairs awkwardly stepping out of the shadows, some squinting and eye-covering, and the slow, jelly-legged walk to the coat-check area.

“I think I just saw some guy getting up off his knees in the corner,” Tyler says despondently. “Shotgun not mopping the floor tonight.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dan sighs. “On the dance floor? Really? Why can’t they suck each other off in the bathroom like normal people?”

“Oh, there were definitely people doing that in one of the stalls about an hour ago,” someone says to Dan’s right. The voice, for some reason, sends the hairs up on the back of Dan’s neck.

He turns, wondering when Matt’s voice got so low, only to find that Phil has perched himself on one of the bar stools, the dregs of his cocktail still in a glass in front of him. For a moment, Dan is too stunned at the sight of him to reply. Then, he registers that the lights are on, and cringes, knowing he likely looks frightful. Phil, of course, looks radiant as ever even under the harsh fluorescents, apart from a faint tiredness, visible in the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“You’re still here,” Dan comments. “I thought you guys had gone.”

“Charlie left,” Phil says, looking away from Dan. “Or I assume he did.”

Out of sight, Tyler catches Dan’s eye, making an obscene gesture with his hands before snickering and running off in the direction of the supply closet. Dan just glares after him, pink-cheeked, and turns back to Phil.

“Wait, he left without telling you?”

One of Phil’s shoulders moves towards his neck, then falls. “He does that.”

“Wow that’s… kind of shitty.”

As soon as the words are out, Dan regrets them. He can’t help but think of Charlie’s comment from earlier; it rings in his ears as if the guy had screamed it at him.

Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.

He was right, probably, though Dan had hated hearing it. He should stop being such a suck-up. It must be awkward and cringey for Phil to see Dan so obviously smitten.

Still, Phil throws him a faint smile. “It’s cool. He’s just a flaky guy. A bit of a princess. He grew up rich, so he’s always been a bit superficial. I’m trying to wring the bourgeoisie out of his blue blood.”

Dan snorts with laughter. “In my experience, you can’t filter the dickishness out of people very easily.”

There’s a silence, then. Phil regards him with a faintly curious expression.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Dan says once the silence gets too uncomfortable. He shrugs, grabbing the rag from his back pocket and starting to wipe down the bar. “I don’t know the guy, really. I’ve just had a couple of unfortunate experiences with him.”

“Oh no,” Phil says, face falling. “What did he do this time?”

Dan laughs, bitterly. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just a little mouthy, is all.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So, when do you get to leave this place?” Phil asks, playing with his glass. He still hasn’t drunk the remainder of his cocktail. “Or do you sleep here?”

“On weekdays, the bar closes at two, so I get out of here at around two-thirty.”

“Christ,” Phil mutters. “And I thought my job was long hours.”

A laugh bursts out of Dan’s throat, but he covers it as best he can with a cough, turning away. Busying himself with ‘dusting’ some liquor bottles, Dan tries to compose a straight face. Is Phil honestly going to try and argue that his job is difficult? When was the last time that guy ever grabbed a broom, or handled someone’s sticky change?

In a minute, Dan is going to go into the corner of the dance floor, get down on his knees, and clean up some randomer’s come. A few weeks ago he saw Phil swanning about a five-star hotel in Korea. If AmazingPhil’s worst complaint is that he had to have a few questionable outfit choices put on him, and some silvery goo in his hair, then he needs a reality check.

Nevertheless, Dan knows that he can’t say any of this. Not only would he never dream of insulting Phil Lester, but it’s pointless to try and explain the differences between classes to someone in a privileged position. They’ve usually forgotten how to understand.

“Are you close by, at least?” Phil asks, interrupting Dan’s thoughts.

Dan turns back to him. “Kemptown. It’s half an hour’s walk, more or less.”

“You walk?” Phil asks, eyebrows skyrocketing towards his quiff. “At two in the morning?”

“Five in the morning on weekends,” Dan confirms, hiding a smile at Phil’s surprise. “It’s okay, you get used to it. Besides, it’s mostly just drunk idiots chugging cans of cider and threatening to run into the sea. Not too scary.”

Despite Dan’s reassurance, the look of pity and concern on Phil’s face doesn’t subside. After a while, Dan turns from it, feeling awkward. He busies himself with clearing away the last of the empty glasses, yawning into the crook of his elbow. Tonight was rough.

“You should crash at mine,” Phil blurts.

Sure he must have misheard, Dan faces Phil slowly. “Um, what?”

“If you’re exhausted, I mean.” Phil fidgets, fingers tapping against his glass. “Like, on the nights you can’t face walking all the way home, you can totally just sleep on my sofa.”

Speechless, Dan simply stares.

“The couch is pretty comfy,” Phil continues in a ramble, not meeting Dan’s eye. “And my flat is just up the road, literally like a minute away. I’m not saying, y’know, come over every night, ‘cause obviously… that might be an issue, but you can absolutely stay round on, say, Saturday nights when you finish later. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

He’s just being nice. That’s Dan’s only explanation. Phil Lester is a sweetheart of a person, and he got so worried about the hypothetical danger involved in Dan’s walks home, that he offered something big, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Dan is a stranger to him. He needs to decline the polite offer, and let Phil off the hook he accidentally created to string himself up on.

So, Dan forces out a small chuckle, and says: “Oh, no, it’s really fine. Thanks for the offer, that’s really good of you, but I quite like the walk. It’s a nice come down after a busy night.”

Phil nods, chewing his lip. He looks unconvinced. “I’m not just saying it, though.” His voice has dropped to a lower tone. “Like tonight… you’re so tired, I can see it. Just grab some sleep at mine before you head back across town.”

As soon as Phil mentions it, the quilt of his own exhaustion flops around his shoulders, dragging Dan’s bones towards the floor. He tries to picture the stumble back to his crummy flat in Kemptown, loathing each imaginary step.

“You barely know me,” Dan says - one last attempt at refusal.

Sensing he’s won, Phil smiles very slightly, then downs the rest of his cocktail at last. “I don’t know if it’s just me, Dan, but I have this feeling that we’re going to be good friends.”

(Part 4!)

#phan #phanfic #bartender au #phanfiction

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