#what im trying to say is that make this au extra angsty by making them fake their deaths in their late 20s or early 30s | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

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rengoku-loves-you · 3 years

Text

rengoku x reader (in which rengoku has a nightmare)

(hello again, sweets! this one is a bit angsty, sorry about that! i had a bit of a night terror and i needed to let some of those lingering feelings out in the form of projecting onto our beloved kyo, lol. its a modern-ish au (teacher rengoku maybe?) bc. why not? enjoy, lovelies!)

warnings: blood, self-harm (unintentional)

you wake to the sound of a crash. youre slow to react, sitting up and rubbing your eyes, and you cant see the time but you know its too early because of the exhausted drag in your bones. the other side of the bed is cold, and you sigh as you get up, stumbling to the door.

you yawn as you open it, peering down the hallway. you can see a shadow moving about in the kitchen, the lights off. if this didnt happen often, youd be afraid you were being robbed, but unfortunately the love of your life has the terrible habit of sneaking around in the dark at odd hours and you cant seem to convince him to stop.

"kyojuro?" you call, stepping out. the shadow pauses.

"ah, did i wake you?" immediately, you can tell something is wrong. his voice wobbles, and its much too soft. "i apologize, i meant to let you sleep in since its your day off."

"i dont care about that." you shuffle into the kitchen, looking around. you can see kyojuros outline, but its too dark to see much else. "are you okay? i heard a crash."

"yes, im fine! dont worry about me, go back to sleep." you hum, starting to make your way over to him, but kyojuro gives a sharp "ah!" that has you stopping again. "please stay over there, i dont want you stepping on the glass."

you inhale sharply.

"wha- glass?! kyojuro!" you hurry over to the light, slapping it on. you blink in the sudden brightness, stubbornly waiting until your eyes adjust. when they do, you hiss through your teeth.

kyojuro stands by the fridge, guiltily averting his eyes with a tight smile. his face is red; with a pang of worry, you realize hes been crying. theres colorful glass glittering on the floor around him, and he has a few larger shards in his hand. your concern for him skyrockets when you see blood, but you force yourself to stay calm.

right now, he needs you.

"dont move," you say firmly, searching for the broom. he nods quietly, and you feel your heart ache when he sniffles. you quickly sweep up the pieces around him, paying careful attention to the spaces between the tiles. once you finish and toss it all away, you finally approach him, slowly.

"did you try to clean it up in the dark?" you whisper, and he nods again, curling his bloodied fingers around the glass he holds. "oh, baby, dont do that." you wrap your hand around his, gently prying it open and ignoring the blood that stains your skin. you tip the pieces into your own hand, leaving him for just a moment to throw them away. when you turn back around, he has his arms tightly crossed, hugging himself.

"i didnt mean to wake you," he insists, not looking at you when you move closer. "i was trying to get some water and got... distracted. i broke the cup you got for me last year." and then, even softer, "that was my favorite cup."

"its okay," you say soothingly, cupping his cheek in your palm, and thats when you realize hes still crying, tears dripping onto your skin. he leans into your touch, his breathing shaky. "ill get you another one. lets get you cleaned up, okay?" he nods once, eyes falling shut.

you slide your hand down to his wrist, tugging until he unfolds. you lead him to the bathroom, sitting him down at the edge of the tub and dropping a kiss on top of his head.

you kneel before him and pick the glass shards out of his skin, frowning at how badly he shakes. it has to hurt, but kyojuro doesnt flinch as you clean and wrap them, wrist to fingertip.

"can you tell me what it was about?" you ask as you cut the extra gauze, taping the end down. he doesnt answer. you look up from his wounds, searching for his gaze, but his eyes are still closed. "kyojuro?" you tilt his chin upward. his lashes flutter, and he looks at you, finally. his golden eyes are bloodshot and raw, but at least the tears have stopped. you move your hand to his cheek, brushing away the lingering salt.

"i dont remember anymore," he says, turning his head to speak into your palm, hiding from your stare. you dont believe him (hes a terrible liar), but you dont push. he never did like to talk about his nightmares.

and you know thats what happened. a nightmare. hes had them for as long as youve known him, but hes never reacted this badly. hes never cried. it must have been a particularly bad one.

"alright," you say slowly. "okay, come here. lets go back to bed." you straighten, patiently waiting for him to stand as well. his hands are too heavily bandaged to hold properly, so you curl your fingers around his wrist again, guiding him back to bed.

he doesnt protest as you gently push him down onto the mattress, curling into himself in a way that breaks your heart. he looks so lonely that youre quick to crawl in behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle and covering his trembling hands with your own. hes warm, almost to the point of feverish, but youre used to it. you bury your face in his sleep-mussed hair and close your eyes.

"i wont let any more bad dreams get you," you whisper against the back of his neck, leaving a kiss on his spine. you feel him shiver and tighten your grip, tossing your legs over his. "ill keep you safe this time, kyo. i love you."

"thank you," he rasps, unmoving. you wait. "...i love you, too." you hold him until you fall asleep, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

when you wake again, the bed is warm, and hes smiling in his sleep.

#demon slayer imagines #demon slayer rengoku imagines #rengoku imagines #kny imagines #kny rengoku imagines #kyojuro rengoku imagines #rengoku x reader #self indulgent #i know its not as good as the other one lol #im sleep deprived!! sorry!!#i hope you enjoyed tho my loves!#requests are open!

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viastro · 3 years

Text

all for love | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: when you cough up the petals, you’re left with two choices. undergo the surgery where you’ll lose the love you have for the person that caused the disease, or tragically die with your love unrequited. [ requested by @adoreateez ]

ミ★ genre: hanahaki!au, angst, some fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: vomiting/coughing of flowers

ミ★ word count: 9,478

ミ★ pairings: xu minghao x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! i’m so sorry this is so late omg, i know that you requested it like a month ago AAAA i hope you like it tho </333 i know it might not be as angsty as you may have wanted </333 think it could be better but i </333 hope it’s okay </333 i also don’t know how this oneshot ended up being so long im cryin real tears NAKJESGKDTB

ミ★ taglist: @sunlightwoo @coppertrashi @sweetsoonhan @brinnalaine @minluvly @wonunuu @suhfluffy @shuajeong @euphorencia @imjustuhhvibing @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me @shuahaeee @jaeyuni @sunflowergyeomie @cheolliehugs @smileyjmvn @chanberriees @vi-nnx @kodzumo @dwcljh @thanky0uverykamsa

“Minghao!” The black haired beauty turns at the call of his name, a warm smile forming on his face when he lays eyes on you standing at the doorway of the dance studio, convenience store bag in hand. He reaches his hand up and waves you over, giggling when you speed walk over to him while greeting the other dance team members.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to come get you after your shift ended.” Minghao asks, taking the bag you’re holding out to him and peeking inside. He lets out a breath when he sees his favorite snacks sitting in it, feeling an immense wave of gratitude hit him when he looks back up towards you.

“My manager sent me home early since it wasn’t busy, so I decided to buy some food for you! Some of it is for me though, since I’ll be sitting here waiting for hours—”

“Dance practice ends in 15 minutes.”

“Hours for your practice to finish.” You continue, and Minghao chuckles when you go the extra mile to wipe away a nonexistent drop of sweat from your forehead. He opens his mouth to tease you, only to stop when Jun, Soonyoung and Chan pull you into an unsuspecting group hug. A laugh escapes Minghao when he sees the look of horror on your face when you’re suddenly yanked from behind.

“MINGHAO! I’m being kidnapped by the three stooges!”

“The fuck did they just call us?”

Minghao rolls his eyes when the four of you begin to bicker, instead walking over to his phone to turn on the song they have to practice for the showcase in a couple months. Your eyes trail after him, slightly tuning out Soonyoung begging you to watch him during their practice so that he can hear your feedback.

“Yn! You’re not even listening to me.” Soonyoung whines, resting his forehead onto your shoulder in defeat. Your head snaps back towards the blonde, smiling and patting the back of his neck to try and console him. “I’ll watch you, I’ll watch you. Don’t worry.”

The self-proclaimed tiger friend of yours looks back up at you with a happy grin, and you chuckle at the sight. You reach up and pat his face with your hands, before motioning towards the dance floor where Jun and Chan are already preparing.

“Go and practice! You’re like a little hamster.” You say with a laugh, and he rolls his eyes at you. Minghao watches from the speakers, letting out a giggle when he sees the way Soonyoung’s smile immediately turns into a frown when you mention the cute animal.

“I’m a tiger, yn!”

“You’re a furry is what you are.” The three laugh at your retort, and Soonyoung bites back a chuckle in an attempt to still appear to be mad at you. He opens his mouth to respond, only for his eyes to widen in panic when a hand covers his face and pulls him backwards.

“Practice ends soon. I’ll treat you after for the snacks, okay?” Minghao says to you, still holding back Soonyoung as the blonde struggles against his hold. You bite back your giggles at the ridiculous sight, instead nodding your head at your best friend. Taking a bite of the fish-shaped ice cream sandwich you bought for yourself, you motion towards the dance floor where the rest of the team is waiting.

Minghao just sends you a pretty smile, practically dragging Soonyoung against his will towards the mirrors. You laugh softly at the sight, sitting down onto the floor as you watch them begin to practice.

You told Soonyoung that you’d watch him, but you find that your eyes keep trailing over to Minghao instead.

You quietly watch Minghao paint on the canvas from across the art studio, knowing that when he splatters paint it can get almost everywhere.

You learned that the hard way.

Rest in Peace, Nike AF1s.

The sunlight rests over his features, making his black hair appear brown. The honey-like color of his skin is glowing underneath the sun, and you find yourself thanking the weather for this sight that lies before you.

“Mm, you’re staring.” You blink when Minghao peeks at you with a smile, catching you in the act. You squint, turning away and laying onto your back on the couch. Pulling out your phone, you go to YouTube to watch a mukbang, effectively ignoring Minghao’s giggles as he looks at you.

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes as he looks back towards the canvas and gently presses the paintbrush against it.

You mindlessly scroll through Twitter for another thirty minutes when you suddenly feel a presence above you. You slowly lower your phone from your face, only to lock eyes with an amused looking Minghao hovering above you. Warmth floods your face immediately as you look at the rather compromising position the two of you are in.

Minghao’s leaning over you, hand resting on the back of the couch. His long hair is falling over his face, and he has a small smile on his face as he stares down at you.

Unable to think of something to say, you slowly bring your phone back up to your face so that you don’t have to look at him any longer. Minghao laughs at your actions, leaning back so that he’s standing at his full height.

“Come on, I’m done painting for today. We can go get food.” Your ears perk up at the mention of food, and you immediately stand up from the sofa. You give Minghao a bright smile, and a fond grin forms on his face at the sight.

“Are you paying this time?” You ask teasingly as you and Minghao start walking out of the room, and the black haired beauty purses his lips, before nodding his head. “Since you waited for me to finish painting, I’ll pay this time.”

You punch the air out of excitement, and Minghao rolls his eyes as he watches you. He reaches out and wraps his arm around you, stopping you mid-punch. He pats your head, and you turn to look at him.

You feel your heart stutter within your chest as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. His brown eyes hold so much depth to them, so much warmth whenever he looks at you. To anyone else, they may mistake it for romantic love.

But you know better.

You giggle and wrap your arm around Minghao, “Where are you taking me for lunch? Teriyaki?”

“I was thinking of convenience store ramen?”

“You’re so cheap.”

“We’re two broke university students. Convenience store ramen is luxury, yn.”

The two of you burst into laughter at Minghao’s response, even though you both know it’s true. You tease each other the rest of the way to the teriyaki place, since Minghao decided to splurge just a little for you.

As you watch Minghao order your guys’ food, you rest your hand over your heart, feeling it beat a bit harder against your chest when he turns to give you a grin.

Letting out a sigh, you scroll through the pdf opened up on your laptop and write some more notes on the material. Minghao looks up from his own laptop at the sound of your frustration, and he purses his lips when he sees the furrow in between your eyebrows.

Without a word, he leans across the table, reaching out and trying to soothe away the crease to your brows. Startled at the sudden contact, you slowly look up at him, seeing the look of accomplishment on his face as he sits back down in his chair once you’re no longer frowning.

“Minghao?”

“Let’s just study for a bit longer and then we can go to the night market.” Minghao says with a warm smile, and you bite the inside of your cheek, nodding your head in agreement as you lean back into your chair. You begin scrolling through your pdf again, attempting to take more notes in hopes that the two of you will go to the night market soon.

However, as the minutes pass, you find that your eyes keep trailing over to Minghao as you aimlessly scroll through your laptop. The yellow light from the lamp beside him illuminates his features beautifully, and you quietly wonder to yourself how Minghao is capable of being so pretty.

“Okay, I’m done.” Minghao announces once he turns in his assignment. You blink your eyes before turning to your laptop and seeing your own unfinished notes. The black haired beauty raises an eyebrow at the expression on your face, knowing all too well that you haven’t finished your notes.

“I can finish it later?” You say, voice raising at the end that it ends up sounding like you’re not too sure of that statement. Minghao grins, reaching out and patting your head fondly, making warmth blossom across your face.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“No. Finish your homework.” Minghao tells you, his grin now replaced with a straight face as he leans back into his chair. You let out a quiet groan, realizing that you forgot who you were studying with.

Your best friend, Xu Minghao, top of the Dean’s list.

“Why do you hate me?” You ask, trying your best to appeal with puppy dog eyes. Minghao simply rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone, chuckling when he hears you sigh in defeat. Grumbling to yourself, you’re able to finish your notes in about 15 minutes because of your newfound anger motivating you.

You shut your laptop, causing the black haired beauty to look up at you from his phone. He tilts his head at you when you flash him a bright smile.

“Done?”

“Done.”

Minghao grins, standing up from the table and putting his stuff away into his bag with you following suit. You’re about to pick up your bag when Minghao walks over to your side of the table, taking your bag and slinging it over his shoulder with his own. You raise an eyebrow, “What a gentleman. Are you gonna pay for all the food I’ll get at the food stands too?”

Minghao scoffs, nudging your shoulder as he steps away from the table, making you giggle. You follow after him, the two of you walking side by side out of the library. You both converse as you walk on the sidewalk, the warm night air enveloping you as you do so.

You take a glance at your bag, watching as Minghao adjusts the strap over his shoulder as he hums quietly. Pursing your lips, you gently nudge his shoulder to get his attention, and he turns his head towards you.

“Mm?”

“I can carry my bag, you know.” You say with a grin, and Minghao just nods his head in agreement. You feel your heart stutter within your chest when he gives you that smile of his, the one that’s always so full of warmth whenever he looks at you.

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Because I wanted to.” Minghao answers, tilting his head to see if you’ll ask more questions. You simply bite the inside of your cheek, nodding as you turn away to look towards the sidewalk again. You listen as Minghao begins to talk about what food he’s excited to try when the two of you arrive, and you do your best to respond.

But the tingle in your throat captures your attention for the rest of the night.

“Soonyoung!” You exclaim with a smile as you watch him trip over his own feet onto the grass, Chan toppling over him as he explodes with laughter.

“Chan, my allergies!”

“I have benadryl, it’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t!”

You smile fondly as you watch Jun walk over to the two on the grass, reaching out with his hand to help them up. Suddenly you’re reminded that you came with four guys, and your eyes trail across the park until you find Minghao snapping photos of the pretty peonies.

You watch as the warm sun rests over his features, making his black hair appear brown in the light. He pulls back from the peonies, looking through the photos he captured on his camera for a moment. After a moment, he turns his head towards you, and a fond smile immediately takes over his features.

“You’re staring again.” Minghao calls out to you, and you roll your eyes in response. He lets out a laugh before Jun barrels over and wraps his arm around him, capturing the pretty man’s attention. You sigh, laying down onto your back on the picnic blanket as you stare up at the tree above you.

The five of you decided to have a picnic at the park today as you all finally finished the last of your finals. You and Jun cooked, while Soonyoung, Chan and Minghao prepared the stuff to bring. Once you all got to the park, you each ate your food and conversed under the warm rays of the summer sun. It was rather nice actually, having taken polaroids of each other as well to commemorate such a precious day.

Your thoughts come to a stop when Minghao pops his head up from above you, warmth in his eyes as he stares down at you.

“Having fun?” Minghao asks you in his soft voice, and you nod your head, giggling when you hear the loud laughter coming from the three stooges. “Of course.”

Minghao squats down and extends his hand out towards you, to which you take a hold of it, letting him help you sit up from the blanket. You raise an eyebrow when you see his arm behind his back, looking back at him with a questioning expression on your face.

Minghao lets out a fond smile at the scrunch to your nose, before reaching out with the hand he was hiding, revealing the pretty peony. “Here.”

You stare down at the pink flower, looking at the delicate petals that are so soft to the touch. Slowly, you glance back up towards Minghao, who’s carefully watching your reaction.

“Minghao?”

The latter chuckles, gently waving his hand that’s holding the flower, signaling for you to take it. You reach out and take it from his grasp, looking down at the peony once again. Minghao smiles, before saying in a soft voice,

“A pretty flower for my flower.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, your gaze slowly trails up towards Minghao, finding yourself searching his eyes for an answer to a question that you’re not even sure of. Silence settles over the two of you as you just stare into each other's eyes for a moment, trying to make each other out.

“Minghao! Yn! Let’s play badminton!” The two of you snap your heads towards Jun’s voice, seeing them grabbing the badminton rackets. Minghao raises up his arm towards the three, “Coming!”

You watch as Minghao stands up from his squatting position, dusting off the back of his jeans before reaching out towards you with his hand. You grasp his hand, letting him pull you up from the blanket.

“You can leave the peony here so that it doesn’t get ruined during the game.” Minghao tells you softly, and you nod your head. He grins, patting your head before heading over towards Soonyoung and Jun, who seem to be bickering over what racket they want.

While you stare down at the peony for a moment longer, silently wondering why this small gift means so much to you. You gently place the flower down onto the picnic blanket and look over towards the four, watching as Minghao lets out a laugh at something Soonyoung said.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you walk over to your friends to play badminton.

You type away on your laptop, preparing to send the email of your resume to apply as an assistant stylist at W Magazine. It’s always been a dream of yours to make it into the big leagues as a fashion stylist, but you have to start down at the lower ranks before you can achieve that.

If you get this position, then it’ll only be a confirmation that you’ll be able to accomplish your goal.

The sound of your ringtone grabs your attention, and you take a deep breath, before submitting your application. You turn to reach for your phone resting beside you, lifting up the small piece of metal to your ear you answer,

“Hello?”

“Yn?” You raise an eyebrow at Jun’s worried tone, sitting up on your couch. Looking over at the time, you see that it’s already 10 at night, but you know that the four are at the studio based on the loud music you hear in the background.

“Jun? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Minghao, he’s pushing himself too much again cause the showcase is in a couple weeks. He refuses to leave until he perfects the choreo.” Jun mutters, and you let out a breath, already closing your laptop and standing up from your sofa. You grab your jacket and quickly put it on before slipping into your sneakers.

“I’ll be there soon.” You say as you walk out of your apartment, hearing Jun tell you thank you in at least four languages before hanging up the call.

You arrive at the dance studio within 15 minutes since your apartment is right by campus, and you’re greeted by the sound of the bass booming from within the room. You’re about to open the door, only to stop when Jun steps out with a worried look on his face. He looks up at you, and lets out a tired smile.

“Go home, Junnie. I’ll take care of him.” You tell him, and he nods his head. He pulls you into a quick hug, before walking out of the building, exhaustion evident due to the slump of his shoulders.

You gently open the door, and your heart breaks when you see Minghao sitting on the floor, face resting in his hands as the music blares from around him. Biting the inside of your cheek, you quietly close the door, before shuffling over to the speakers and pausing the music on his phone.

“Jun, I already told you that I’m not leaving until I finish this.” Minghao says tiredly, looking up from his hands in your direction, only to stop when he lays eyes on you standing there.

You’re just in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your unzipped sweatshirt hanging off your shoulders. The concern is evident over your features as you stare at him from where you are, and his eyes trail down to your fiddling hands, a sign that you’re nervous.

“Did Jun call you?” Minghao asks as he looks away from you, staring down at his knees. You nod your head, clearing the itch in your throat, “Yeah. He did.”

Silence falls over the two of you, with Minghao holding back the tears that threaten to escape his eyes from the pent up frustration, and you knowing that they’re about to fall. You watch as the black haired beauty lowers his head, before covering his face up with his hands, shoulders beginning to shake as he cries.

You pad your way over, sitting down beside him and extending your legs out. Gently, you grasp his shoulder and slowly maneuver him so that his head is resting on your lap, quiet sobs wracking his body as he lets you hold him.

“It’s okay, Minghao.” You mutter softly, stroking his hair as a means to comfort him. He shakes his head at you, and you let out a small smile.

“You did well.”

That simple sentence sends Minghao into another wave of tears, but you just hold him quietly as you pat his head. A few minutes pass until he’s finally calmed down, and he slowly lowers his hands away from his face, now taking deep breaths to get his breathing back to normal.

Your hand trails down to his cheek as you wipe away the remaining tears. Minghao just lets you as he stares up at the ceiling in silence, millions of thoughts and worries running through his brain.

You know better than to ask him about what he’s thinking, though. Over the last couple years of knowing the black haired beauty, you’ve learned that Minghao will tell you what’s going on at his own pace and that he’ll only shy away the more you pester him.

So instead you say, “Come on, let’s go back to my apartment.”

Minghao stares up at the ceiling for a moment longer, before nodding his head in agreement and sitting up from your lap. The two of you stand up off the floor, and you shuffle over to his dance bag and shove everything he brought into it. Minghao just watches you as you do so, eyes trailing after you as you walk over to the speaker and disconnect his phone, placing it into the bag as well.

“Let’s go, Minghao.” You say as you walk over to the door, and he follows after you, exhaustion now wearing down on his body from how hard he pushed himself tonight. The two of you step out of the studio, and you let out a sigh at the warm night air.

You both walk in a comfortable silence the rest of your way to your apartment, only having a brief exchange when you grab his spare clothes from his bag and hand it to him as he walks to your bathroom to take a shower.

It’s like a routine for the two of you now, as this isn’t the first time this has happened. Minghao’s a perfectionist, so when something’s not right, he will push himself until he can correct it. Each of the guys learned that the hard way, as they would sometimes be victims to Minghao’s critiques. However, Minghao’s the hardest on himself.

It’s always Minghao taking care of you in your guys’ friendship. He’s the more mature one, more level headed, more responsible — but you’re the only one who can calm him down when he gets into this headspace.

You clear your throat in a failed attempt of getting rid of the tingle that’s been bothering you for the last couple of months. Walking into your kitchen, you fill up a glass of water and down it all in one go, but to no avail.

“I wonder if it’s cause I snore in my sleep?” You ask yourself, only to glance up when you hear your bathroom door open, a fresh Minghao stepping out of it. His hair is damp as he trudges over to your couch and lays down onto it.

“You want any dinner? I can order takeout.” You offer as you walk over to him, and he shakes his head, simply pulling the blanket over his body. Nodding your head, you let out a yawn, “I’m tired, so I’m going to head to bed. There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry.”

Minghao doesn’t respond, and you take that as a sign to turn and walk into your bedroom, only to stop when you feel the warmth of his hand grasping yours. You look back towards the pretty man, just to see him lying there with his eyes closed.

“Minghao?”

“Thank you, yn. I love you.”

You hate the way your heart soars within your chest at those three words when you know fully well that Minghao means it in a platonic way.

You’re his best friend that he loves and cares about.

And he’s your best friend that you love.

“I love you too, Minghao. Now go to sleep, mm?” You say softly, giving his hand a squeeze. He lets out a sleepy smile, before releasing his gentle grip on your hand.

You hate the fact that your hand feels cold without him holding it.

You stare at him for a moment longer, before walking into your bedroom and closing the door behind you. You climb into your bed, feeling the tingle in your throat turn into a full blown itch as you attempt to clear it. Reaching over to your water bottle, you take a long sip before placing it back down onto the table and laying on your back, convincing yourself that it’s nothing.

It’s only a few hours later when you’re awakened by the urge to vomit and practically sprint to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Leaning over the toilet, you sob quietly as you vomit the familiar pink petals of the flower Minghao gave you at the dead of night.

You stare down at your blanket, fiddling with the thread as millions of thoughts run through your brain. Your eyes trail over to your phone, watching as it lights up with a new text from Jun.

jun: yn i'm gonna break into your apartment if you don’t answer

You let out a scoff, coughing slightly as you turn off your phone. You adjust your position until you’re laying on your side and close your eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.

It’s been a week since you coughed up the flowers and realized your tragic fate.

You love Minghao.

Minghao doesn’t love you.

The morning after Minghao stayed the night, he made you breakfast before leaving while you were asleep, writing a note to let you know that he had to go to his part time job and that he’ll be busy for the upcoming week leading to the showcase.

The two of you haven’t seen each other since then, and you suppose it’s for the best. Every time you text him, let alone think of him, the itchy feeling of the petals climbing up your throat appears.

Your thoughts are cut short when you hear your apartment door open, and you let out a groan when Jun suddenly appears in your bedroom doorway, holding the spare key you gave Minghao in his hand. The brunette frowns at your reaction to his appearance, “You’ve been avoiding Minghao.”

“No. We’ve both been busy—”

“Even when Minghao’s busy with the team, and even when you’re busy with work, you still make the time to visit him at the studio. What’s wrong, yn?” You bite your bottom lip, turning over so that your back is facing Jun. He lets out a sigh, walking over to your side so that he can sit down on the bed, only to pause when he sees your garbage full of the beautiful petals.

You hear Jun’s breath hitch, and you squeeze your eyes shut, realizing what he must’ve seen. You feel Jun’s hand rest on your shoulder, and suddenly you’re being moved onto your back, staring up into his frantic eyes as he searches your face.

“No.” Jun mutters, voice quivering when you give him a pained smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment longer, and he watches as a tear escapes your left eye.

“Is it…” Jun trails off when you nod your head, reaching your hands up and wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You give him a tight smile, “It’s Mingh—”

Jun’s eyes widen when you suddenly gag, watching as you get up from your bed and run straight to your bathroom. The brunette quickly follows after you, and he feels his heart break within his chest when he sees the pink petals fall from your mouth into the toilet, tears escaping your eyes as they do so.

He kneels down beside you, patting your back until you finally throw up all the petals. You let out a groan, sitting back against the bathtub as Jun wipes away the bile around your mouth with a wet towel.

“Please don’t tell him.” You mumble when Jun pushes away the baby hairs around your face. His eyes flit up to yours, and his lips form into a thin line, before he starts patting your forehead with the cool towel.

“Junhui please—”

“I won’t tell Minghao.” Jun states, and you let out a breath of relief. A heavy silence settles upon the two of you afterwards, the looming thought that there’s only two cures to this disease hovering over you both.

“You know what you have to do, right yn?”

You don’t respond to his question, choosing to instead stare down at your fiddling hands. Jun turns to look at you, a serious look on his face as he nudges your shoulder for you to answer. Biting the inside of your cheek, you finally glance back at him, finding him to be blurry as tears flood your eyes.

“Don’t give up your life for him, yn.” Jun tells you softly, and you shake your head at him. You hear him let out an exasperated sigh, but you just shake your head even more.

“You know what will happen if I get the surgery, Jun. I won’t ever be able to love him, not even as my best friend. I can even end up hating him.” You say, and the brunette nods. He looks up towards your ceiling, knowing very well of the consequences that come with choosing your life over Minghao.

“Hao may be my best friend, but I’m not going to let you give up your life for the sake of him.” You just stare at Jun as the tears fall past your eyes again, and he gives you a sad smile. He reaches out and pats your head fondly, before standing up from your bathroom floor.

“I need to go to practice, but please. Live for yourself, yn.” And with that, Jun walks out of your bathroom. The sound of your apartment door closing resonates through your small apartment, and it’s the only thing that gets you to stand up from the tiled floor.

You walk back to your bedroom, seeing your phone lit up on your dresser. Picking up the cool metal, you tap the email notification, only for your eyes to widen when you realize—

It’s W Magazine.

They want to schedule an interview with you.

Your phone falls from your shaky hands and lands on the bed as you turn to stare at your reflection in the mirror, heart beating rapidly against your chest.

The exhaustion is evident on your features, from your prominent bags, to the sag of your shoulders. However, there’s a glint of excitement in your eyes from the fact that you’re a step closer to your dream.

Your gaze slowly trails over to your garbage can behind you, the bloody flowers laying in the bin staring back at you.

“Live for yourself, yn.”

You reach out for your phone and go to your contacts, scrolling all the way to the bottom before placing it up to your ear. You let out a shaky breath when you hear the person on the other end pick up the phone, before looking back towards yourself in the mirror.

“Hello, I’d like to schedule an appointment.”

“Everything looks good for the showcase tomorrow.” Jun says from beside Minghao, watching as Soonyoung and Chan perform their duet on the stage. The black haired beauty nods his head, glancing down at his phone to see if you responded to his message.

A grin takes over his features when he sees your notification and unlocks his phone, chuckling when he sees the string of curses you sent for missing the pocket in the 8ball game the two of you were playing. Jun carefully watches Minghao’s expressions as he texts you, very aware of the fond smile on his best friend’s face.

Jun looks away, attempting to focus on Soonyoung and Chan’s rehearsal instead of wondering how Minghao doesn’t love you back. It’s ridiculous to him when he thinks of how much Minghao truly cares for you, or the warm look in his eyes whenever he stares at you.

Jun just doesn’t understand how Minghao couldn’t have fallen in love with you.

“Are you gonna see yn before the showcase? This is the longest the two of you haven’t seen each other.” Jun asks, and he watches as Minghao purses his lips in thought. The black haired beauty shakes his head after a moment, giving Jun a grin as he says, “I’ll see yn tomorrow at the showcase. I’ll still be pretty busy for a few more hours after this just to double check that everything is good to go anyways.”

Jun nods his head slowly, looking back towards the stage when the music ends, signaling that Soonyoung and Chan’s duet is over. The two wave their hands over at Jun and Minghao, calling them to come up so they can rehearse their choreography.

Minghao nudges Jun’s shoulder, “Let’s go practice.”

Jun watches as your best friend walks over to the stage, laughing brightly at something Soonyoung said. The brunette bites his bottom lip, opening up his phone to read your last message to him.

yn: i’m getting the surgery tomorrow

please take care of minghao for me

He lets out a breath and slips his phone back into his pocket, before looking up when he hears the call of his name. He locks eyes with Minghao, who’s smiling happily and waving him over along with Chan and Soonyoung.

“Come on!”

Jun sends them a tight smile, before heading over to the stage, heart heavy with the knowledge that Minghao’s happiness will soon dwindle.

You lay on your bed, the itch in your throat feeling more annoying today than it has the previous days. The glow in the dark stars on your ceiling capture your attention, and you feel your eyes watering at the sight of them.

You used to find comfort in the small stars, the memory of you and Minghao sticking them onto the ceiling when you first moved in being one that brought you content. Now all you feel is heartbreak from the knowledge that you’ll no longer feel warm at the thought of him.

You’re startled by the sound of your phone vibrating beside you, and you lift up the device, seeing that Minghao’s calling you. Biting your bottom lip, you wonder if it would be a good idea to answer.

You vomit and cough up flowers when you think of Minghao, how much worse can it be when you actually hear his voice?

But this is the last time you’ll be able to hear his voice and feel like you’re home.

And so, you answer the call. Placing your phone to your ear you say, “Minghao?”

“Yn.”

“Why are you calling me at 2 in the morning?” You ask with a small smile on your face, ignoring the feeling of petals beginning to crawl up your lungs. Minghao rolls his eyes, rolling over onto his back in his own bed. “Do I need an excuse to call my best friend?”

“No, but it’s 2 in the morning so I feel like I should ask.” You say with a giggle, and Minghao smiles at the sound. He lets out a sigh, looking out towards his window and seeing the stars shining brightly in the sky.

“I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and that I’m excited to see you tomorrow.” Minghao tells you in a softer voice, and you feel your heart stutter within your chest. Your eyes begin to water as you roll over in bed, now laying on your side.

“I miss you too.” You mumble, and the black haired beauty grins at that. You hear him let out a yawn on the other end, “I need to sleep since I’m waking up early tomorrow.”

You nod your head even though he can’t see it, muttering how he should definitely be asleep right now. Blinking your eyes, you feel a tear escape and slide down your face until it lands on your pillow.

“Night night, Minghao.” You say, and Minghao smiles softly.

“Sweet dreams, yn.”

As soon as you end the call, the petals come rushing up, and you sprint to your bathroom, a painful reminder that Minghao doesn’t love you.

And by tomorrow night, you won’t love him either.

Jun watches from across the room as Minghao does his eye makeup for the showcase, the sound of the audience talking in excitement being heard from upstairs. He glances down at his phone, opening up his conversation with you to send you a text.

jun: does minghao know?

Your phone vibrates beside you on the bed as you wait for your surgeon to enter the room. You reach out and grab it, raising it up to your face and seeing Jun’s message. Letting out a breath, you quickly type your response and press send, placing the device back onto the bed.

you: no

Jun just stares at your answer, and he closes his eyes tightly, already awaiting the impending doom that’s about to fall upon you and Minghao. His eyes snap open when he feels a hand rest on his shoulder, and he looks up to see the black haired beauty staring down at him with a grin.

“You nervous?” Minghao asks, and Jun shrugs his shoulders as he leans back into the chair. He turns off his phone, placing it down onto the table as he purses his lips.

He’s nervous, but not for the showcase.

“A bit, just the usual pre-show jitters, ya know?” Minghao nods his head in agreement, understanding exactly what Jun means. He lets out a sigh, before looking over towards the door when the sound of a knock resonates through the room. Soonyoung and Chan’s heads pop through the opening, big smiles on their faces, signaling that it’s time for them to go on.

“It’s time already?” Minghao asks with a grin, walking over to the door with Jun by his side. Soonyoung nods, clapping his hands excitedly as he’s always been one to not be very nervous before their showcases. “Yup. It’s a few more minutes until the opening performance.”

The four walk towards the main stage, listening to Soonyoung and Chan ramble about how much they’ve missed the feeling of performing. However, Jun’s mind is elsewhere as they enter the stage, unable to respond to his other teammates as he worries for what’s to come.

“Are you excited to see your biggest fan?” Chan teasingly asks Minghao as they get into position, and the black haired beauty smiles warmly at the thought of you. He nods his head, looking at the curtain as if he can see right through it. “Always.”

Jun looks down at the floor at the fondness dripping from Minghao’s voice as he steps over and goes into position, avoiding eye contact with any of the three guys as he does so. The voice of the MC is heard from beyond the curtain as they say the welcome speech, and Soonyoung looks over at Minghao with a grin.

“Are you ready, Minghao?”

You slowly lower the phone from your ear, ending the call right as your surgeon walks into your hospital room. You look up towards him and see the pitiful smile on his face, a tragic reminder of what you’re here for.

“Are you ready, yn?”

Minghao smiles at the blonde, before looking back towards the front as the curtains open.

You let out a shaky breath, glancing down towards your fiddling hands as you nod your head.

The both of you mutter, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You guys did great!”

“Good job as always, Minghao!”

The black haired beauty smiles and nods his head at those who came to watch them perform, thanking them for coming. However, his eyes continue to sweep through the crowd, trying to find your warmth filled eyes.

You always sit in the front row so that Minghao will see you when he performs, and you’re always the first one to run and hug him whenever the showcase ends, giving him a large bouquet of flowers.

But you weren’t in the front row, and you weren’t the first one to congratulate him today.

Minghao excuses himself from the conversation as he walks over to Soonyoung and Jun, a frown etched across his features as he wonders where you could possibly be. Jun looks over right as Minghao steps over to them, and he feels his heart sink at the lost expression on the latter’s face.

“Have you guys seen yn?” Minghao asks, and the two shake their heads, no. The black haired beauty bites his bottom lip, turning to look over at the crowd again to see if you just got caught up talking to someone. Soonyoung purses his lips, “Why don’t you call them?”

Minghao lets out a breath, realizing that was the first thing he should’ve done in the first place. He quickly thanks Soonyoung and walks backstage to grab his phone. As he heads towards the dressing room, he can only wonder whether you possibly got stuck in traffic or if something came up.

He pushes open the door and walks over to his bag, pulling out his phone and unlocking it to see that you left a voicemail. Raising an eyebrow, Minghao presses play and puts the cool metal to his ear.

“Hi, Minghao.” You say softly, willing for your voice not to shake as you look out the window of your hospital room. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your showcase, but I know that you did great. You always do.”

Minghao frowns, looking over towards the doorway when he hears the door open, only to find Jun standing there.

“You… you always filled me with so much warmth.” You begin, feeling tears slowly flood your eyes as you cast your eyes downward towards your blanket. “I’m so thankful to have had you in my life for so long, and I’m so sorry for not telling you.”

Minghao’s frown deepens at your words, wondering what you’ve been keeping a secret.

You let out a shaky breath, tears falling from your eyes as you look up towards the ceiling. “I’m in love with you, Minghao.”

Minghao’s heart drops into his stomach at your words, suddenly realizing what’s happening. He turns towards Jun, seeing the remorseful expression on his face as he watches him.

“I don’t know when these feelings began but I always knew that I cared for you so much more than I should’ve.” You clutch the thin hospital blanket in your hand, biting your bottom lip harshly to try and speak clearly for Minghao to hear every word you’re saying. “I was originally going to let the disease run its course because I never want to forget the feeling of loving you and the warmth you brought me.”

You raise your hand up and wipe away the tears falling from your eyes, “But I decided to get the surgery, so that’s why I couldn’t make it to your showcase today.”

Minghao’s eyes widen, and he quickly grabs his bag, throwing everything inside. Jun walks over, resting a hand on Minghao’s shoulder to try and talk to him, only for the latter to shrug his hand off as he listens to your words.

“I’ll always be grateful that you were my first love.”

Minghao throws the bag over his shoulder and runs out of the dressing room, tears falling from his eyes as he ignores Jun’s shouts from behind him.

“I’m so sorry that I’ll no longer be able to give you that love, and I know that I’ll always regret losing you, but I have to do this.”

Minghao sprints down the hallway, shoving open the door and being hit with a wave of the warm summer air. He frantically looks around, breathing heavily as he starts running in the direction of the hospital, hearing your last words to him through his phone.

“I want to live, Minghao.”

“You just need to stay here overnight to make sure there were no complications in your surgery, but everything went smoothly.” Dr. Jung tells you, and you nod your head as the nurse helps you sit up on the bed. The sound of your beating heart is heard in your ears, and you raise your hand up, resting it on your chest as you feel it beat against your hand.

You’re alive.

The sound of running feet is heard down the hallway, and you pause when you hear it come to a stop. Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you look over towards the door, only to lock eyes with the familiar pair that always held warmth in them when they saw you.

You see none of the warmth as he stares at you, instead finding an indecipherable emotion to them. His eyes searching yours to find the answer to the question he doesn’t dare to ask.

You have no doubt that yours once held a familiar weight to them as his do right now.

“Yn—”

You turn away from him, effectively answering the question he was about to ask. Minghao’s heart falls in his chest when you give your surgeon a tight smile as the man exits the room along with the nurse, giving the black haired beauty a pitiful look.

“Yn.” Minghao says as he walks over to your hospital bed, standing before you as you look out the window. “Yn, please.”

“It’s not your fault.” You mutter quietly, and he pauses. You slowly turn your head to look up at him, giving him a small smile that holds no affection, no love. “Don’t blame yourself for what I had to do.”

“Why,” Minghao looks down at the floor, trying to bring his breathing back to normal as he musters up the courage to continue. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You stare at the man you once loved. His black hair is styled to reveal his forehead, eyeliner adorning his eyes along with dark eyeshadow. Before, your heart would’ve been racing as you stared at the pretty man in front of you. However, you feel none of the warmth that you used to as he looks back up towards you.

You give him a close-lipped smile, “Because I loved you, Minghao.”

He bites his bottom lip, looking down at his feet in defeat as the tears begin to fall from his eyes. Raising his hands up to his face, he wonders if this is all just a nightmare. That you never got hanahaki, that you never got the surgery…

That you still love him.

“Minghao! Yn!” The two of you turn towards the door, finding Jun, Soonyoung, and Chan standing there, chests rising and falling as they try to catch their breath. You let out a fond smile when you see your friends, but they just stare between you and Minghao with conflicting expressions on their faces.

“Yn, are you okay?” Soonyoung asks, walking up to your bedside along with Chan while Jun just stares at Minghao, feeling guilty at the heartbroken expression that adorns Minghao’s features.

You nod your head at the blonde, “I’m feeling okay, don’t worry. Sorry I couldn’t make it today.”

Soonyoung just gives you a tight smile, reaching out and patting your hand as he turns back to look towards Minghao. The black haired beauty just stands there, staring at the floor with pain stricken eyes and slumped shoulders.

“I think we should take Minghao back to his apartment.” Chan says, and you nod your head in understanding. Your eyes trail over towards the pretty man, and Jun sees no emotion in your gaze as you stare at Minghao. You look up towards Jun, catching his eye as you send him a small smile. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“We’ll come visit with food later.” Soonyoung tells you, and you grin. You raise your hand up and wave towards the four, and the three of them return the gesture. Minghao just turns to look at you for a moment, heartbreak evident in his eyes as his eyes look over your features, as if to remember.

Minghao clenches his fist at his side, before turning and walking out of the room without another word. Jun quickly follows after him in panic after waving at you one more time, and you just let out a breath as Soonyoung and Chan go after them.

“Minghao!” Jun calls out, following Minghao all the way out the hospital. The brunette rests a hand over his chest, trying to even out his breathing as he speeds up to reach out towards his heartbroken best friend.

“MINGHAO!” Jun yells, finally grabbing the latter’s arm, causing the two of them to stop and catch their breaths on the sidewalk. Minghao raises his hands up to his hair, gripping on the strands as multiple emotions flood through him.

“Why are you so devastated? They’re alive, Minghao. Isn’t that what matters?” Jun asks, looking at Minghao with a furrow to his brow as the black haired beauty looks around with frantic eyes. Jun grabs Minghao’s other arm and shakes the man, “Minghao!”

“I don’t know!” Minghao exclaims as he finally faces Jun, tears running down his face as he stares at him. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing the lump in his throat as numerous questions flow through his mind.

Minghao’s always been the more composed between the two of them, with everyone agreeing that he’s quite mature. However, as Jun stares at his friend before him, he no longer sees the collected Minghao that he’s grown to know over the years.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling! I-I can’t begin to explain how much it hurts.” Minghao says, resting a hand over his heart as he feels a sob bubble up in his chest. Jun kneels down in worry as Minghao doubles over, sobs wracking his body as he raises his hands to cover his face.

“Minghao, let’s take you back to your apartment. We can talk there.” Jun tells him, and Minghao doesn’t respond, continuing to sob into his hands.

“Minghao, please—Minghao?!” Jun’s eyes widen with worry when Minghao abruptly pulls away, nausea apparent on his features as he steps back into the wall of the building. The black haired beauty turns around into the alley and doubles over as he vomits.

Jun takes a step forward to pat Minghao’s back as a means to comfort him, only for his mouth to drop open in horror at the sight that lays before him.

Pink peony petals are scattered across the pavement, blood splattered onto them as they begin to fly down the alley with the wind.

Minghao breathes heavily at all the flower petals surrounding him, cheeks wet from the tears that fell from his eyes. His knees buckle and he falls onto the pavement, hands resting on top of the pile of pink flowers that escaped his system.

Jun sucks in a shaky breath, “Hao—”

“Don’t.” Minghao breathes, and Jun closes his mouth.

Minghao slowly lifts up the blood splattered peony petals in his hands, feeling his bottom lip tremble from the memory of that beautiful day. Silence falls over the two of them as they stare at the cursed flowers that have brought so much heartbreak.

As a single tear falls from Minghao’s eye, he’s left wondering when his fate became so twisted.

one year later

You walk down the sidewalk, breathing in the warm, summer air as you do so. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you gaze around at your surroundings as you head to the event, only to stop when you lay eyes on the flower shop.

It’s been a year since you’ve gotten the surgery, and life’s been going well for you. You went to the interview at W Magazine and were hired a couple weeks later. You’re still far from your goal, but you’ve taken a step, and that’s more than enough.

You and Minghao never spoke after he left your hospital room.

You’ve kept in contact with Jun, Soonyoung and Chan, as they were also your best friends. However, you know in your heart that it’s not the same. A bit of distance has grown between the four of you, but the love is still there.

Love.

You think love is a crooked concept.

You let out a breath as you stare at the pink peony flowers, the memories flooding back into the forefront of your mind. You reach out and take a single peony, twisting the flower in your fingers as Minghao’s words play in your head.

“A pretty flower for my flower.”

“Minghao!” The newly dyed blonde turns his head in the direction where he heard his name be called, only to let out a laugh when Jun, Soonyoung and Chan engulf him in a group hug.

The sounds of the cheers from behind the curtain are still loud as the showcase has just ended, and it fills Minghao with the feeling of accomplishment as he excitedly converses with his friends.

It’s been a year since Minghao found out that you had hanahaki, and it’s been less than a year since Minghao got the surgery to remove the roots of the flower from his own lungs.

You never learned that Minghao loved you.

“Let’s go and thank those who came so that we can go out for celebratory bbq.” Jun says with a happy smile, watching as Soonyoung and Chan nod their heads in agreement. The two begin to discuss the amount of food they’re going to order as they walk off the stage, but Jun stays back, staring at Minghao who seems to be deep in thought.

“Hao.” The blonde looks up towards Jun and he lets out a friendly grin. “Sorry, I was thinking of something.”

“Thinking of what?” Jun asks, and Minghao simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing important anymore.”

Minghao chuckles at Soonyoung and Chan beginning to bicker as they head towards Jun’s car, only for the blonde to pause when he reaches into his pocket to find nothing. Jun raises an eyebrow at Minghao’s concerned expression, “Did you forget something?”

The blonde lets out an apologetic smile as he nods his head, already turning to head back into the auditorium, “I just forgot my airpods, I’ll be right back!”

“Hurry or else we’ll leave you!” Chan calls out after him, and Minghao sends him a disappointed thumbs down as he begins to run back inside.

Pushing open the doors, he smiles and bows towards the rest of the staff that are still in the building. He heads towards the dressing room and opens the door, letting out a breath of relief when he sees his airpods case sitting on the table.

“Good thing no one took them.” Minghao mutters to himself as he walks over and grabs them. His eyes look up towards the mirror, only to pause when he sees what rests on the couch behind him. Slowly, he turns around and lays eyes on the bouquet of flowers.

The familiar pink peonies are wrapped beautifully in brown paper, and there’s a single white peony in the middle of the arrangement, a stark contrast to the soft pink of the other peonies surrounding it.

Minghao bites his bottom lip and walks over towards the bouquet, seeing the envelope resting over the flowers. He reaches out and picks up the envelope, opening it up and taking out the card, only for a shaky breath to leave him when he reads the message.

you did well.

- ❀

You look up towards the sky as you walk to the bus stop, watching as the clouds move across the horizon. You wonder what it would be like to be able to touch the clouds, to grasp them in your hands.

The vibration of your phone cuts you off from your thoughts, and you pull it out of your pocket. Your heart stutters when you lay eyes on the notification, and you immediately unlock your phone, opening up the message.

minghao: thank you, my flower.

You let out a quiet laugh at the nickname, feeling something akin to warmth flood your system as you pocket your phone.

The feeling is foreign to you now, having been unfamiliar for over a year. It may not be the same, but it’s the closest you feel you’re ever going to get.

Tears suddenly fall past your eyes as you look up towards the pink clouds, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand. A sigh leaves your lips as you lower your head, now looking down at the sidewalk as your vision blurs from the tears flooding your eyes.

As you begin to walk towards the bus stop again, you’re left wondering why you’re even crying in the first place.

In China, peony is a traditional flower symbol and is called 牡丹 (mǔdān) which means “the most beautiful.”

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demonmocns-archive · 2 years

Note

my hypothesis/au for catboy shou is (well for the reader part im just heavily projecting 💀 but it provides for an angsty background tho so-)

but cause you said catboy shou and reader have a fairly codependent relationship, I was trying to think of what couLd lead to that??

so I was thinking that shou may have fallen for his owners in the past too [[mayhaps pushing my demiromantic shou agenda]] (because he just loves them so much he can’t but but fall foR) but his previous owners Did Not Like That, so he felt sad and lonely each time he’d be kicked out (maybe his first owner when he was really little had a partner who didn’t like cats/hybrids and gave him the burn scar for extra angst) later though, he was picked up off the streets by Reader

Reader also has had a tough life from growing up in homes not quite relating to them (as in, either fostered then adopted or fostered their whole life and never feeling like they fit in) and so they’ve lived a fairly introverted and secluded life, they’re kind to all animals, hybrids you name it, although interacting intensively with other humans makes them anxious.

One day as Reader was getting home from work, they stumble upon Shou who’s half starving to death, hair’s all grimy and sickly pale that they immediately take him home to get him all fixed up, only then realizing the ears on his head and tail slowly swishing as they bathe him and- although shou didn’t follow the reader home immediately, the promise of food coupled with the genuine concern in Reader’s eyes made him comply-

(I think this is basically a condensed version of what I wanted to say but yes)

pls i love this so much and the fact that u even took the time to conceptualize a backstory off of something i talk about makes my heart warm. my lore is less angsty (what a shock) but you def got some parts correct, such as a previous owner’s partner not wanting shouto and being mean to him, except his precious owner in my head is rei. rei is either his mom or she adopted him when he was a baby (don’t ask who his bio parents would be then fhfhdh) but regardless, enji didn’t want shouto and ended up ditching him at a shelter shortly after rei was admitted. the codependent relationship comes from other reasons but i’ll save it unless someone asks bc i don’t wanna blab about it otherwise fhfhdhs.

#tw hybrids #demonmocns catboy shouto #summoned

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Note

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

#answered #anonymous #ejs wips #ej writer #yeah theres no such thing as sending it late #if y’all want to ask me just ask me! dont worry about it!

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 2.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings for this chapter: Angsty Babies Fight

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills

Sequel to The Bird Cage

You stand on the balcony overlooking the casino as the night begins to drag on. There were men and women as far as the eye could see. “Madam.” Your head turns to the voice before smiling at Kirsoon.

He hands you a glass of champagne and you thank him quietly before turning your attention back to the game floor. Your eyes have been on a man, sitting at the blackjack table for quite some time. He was in a Tom Ford suit, classically styled as he sips on his brandy. He hasn’t moved from the table in two hours and the chips in front of him indicate just how good at blackjack he is. Good at blackjack is not a sentence to be said. Unless, you’re counting. Your eyes narrow at him as he flicks at the corners of the cards leisurely. He has on sunglasses so you can’t tell how shifty his eyes are. You can’t ask him to take them off, it’s not against the casino policy to wear shades. But, something is off.

Then your eyes catch it. When he flicks the corner, the man opposite him does so as well. “Kirsoon.” You call to the man behind you and he steps forward as you lean back calmly. “I have counters at blackjack four.”

He stands up straighter before nodding his head and taking off. “Counters at black four.” He mumbles into his wrist before he descends the stairs. Your ankles cross in front of you before leaning your chin on your hand.

“Counting?” You hear from behind you, before arms wrap around your waist. You hum as lips drift over the back of your neck. “I missed you, baby.”

You smirk before turning your head to your husband. You kiss his plush lips gently before hearing commotion downstairs. You turn your attention back to the floor as Kirsoon grabs the chips and places them in a velvet bag. The Tom Ford clad man gets hauled up before being dragged towards the staircase and you click your teeth as innocent patrons jump nervously. “Idiots.” You mumble as your husband’s grip on you tightens.

His hands run over your sides before kissing down your exposed shoulder. “Come home, I miss you.”

You don’t want to go home, though. To go home would mean to have sex with him. Which would lead to another heartbreak when you don’t get pregnant for him. “Soon.” You mumble before kissing his cheek and squeezing out of his grip.

“Kitten?” He whispers confused, you turn your head to him before running your fingers through his hair.

“I have to go take care of this. See you at home?” You ask him gently, but your feet are already walking towards your grandiose office. You hear his hands slap his thighs but you don’t dare turn around to face him. You have guilt just like he does.

You hold out your two fingers before a cigarette is placed within them. Kirsoon lights your cigarette and you smile at the man now tied to the chair in front of you.

“Hi. Good evening.” You whisper to him as he looks around the office. He seems nervous. Looks nervous more like, as you watch sweat begin to bead on his forehead. “Take off your sunglasses.” You tell him before ashing your cigarette into the glass tray on your desk.

You look at his bound hands before clicking your teeth. “Nevermind, Kirsoon will do it for you.”

The tall, stocky man rounds the desk before taking them off of his face and looking at the lenses. He snorts before handing you the glasses and you hold them daintily between your fingers. The lenses were a shade of blue, something that could be seen in the bright lighting of your office compared to the dim lighting downstairs. “You have ink on your fingers?” You ask quietly to the man in the chair in front of you.

He stays silent before showing you his hand. It was free of any ink and you rolled your eyes before putting the glasses to your face. Through the blue lenses you can see faint light blue streaks on his fingers and you hum to him. You break the glasses before Kirsoon holds out his hand beside you. They get discarded into his palm before shrugging your shoulders. You watch as the beads of sweat begin to run down his temples.

“Very nervous for someone who was so confident at my tables not too long ago.” He grunts gently and you lean back in your chair before inhaling some of your cigarette. “You had a partner downstairs. I saw.”

His eyes shift to his lap and you tilt your head before crossing your legs. With an exhale you burn out the cigarette in the glass ashtray and fold your hands in your lap. “You must be very smart to count cards.”

“It’s not hard.” He murmurs and you nod to him as he turns his head to look back at two security as they stand at the double doors. “Where’d you learn to count?”

His eyes flicker back to yours and before clearing his throat. “Princeton. In America.”

“Very good.” You say in English before leaning forward. “I’ll be speaking with you in English then since you can handle it.”

His eyes squeeze shut before his form turns smaller under your piercing gaze. “How much money can you win? If you have all night to do so?”

He bites nervously at the skin on his lip before opening his mouth, “If I can do it and do it without getting caught I can turn over about one hundred thousand a night.”

You whistle, the sharp noise making him shiver before you nod to him. “And can you do this without getting caught?”

He sighs gently before straining his arms against the confines of the rope he is in. “You’re the only person who’s caught me so far. I’m usually pretty good at it.”

You tilt your head before looking him over, if he can do it without getting caught it would be very profitable to the Lions. “Interesting.” You whisper before leaning back.

“What’s your name?”

“People call me Shownu.” You click your teeth before sipping your champagne.

“Well, Shownu. You’ll be working for me from now on.” He cringes before sitting up straighter. “Look, ma’am. I don’t- don’t do this all the time. Just y’know, my brothers need some extra cash so-”

“So you’ll steal from me? That’s what this is, you’ll just take money from my casino?” He bows his head in defeat and you stand up drawing his attention.

“You will work for me and repay everything you have tried to steal, and then some. You’ve been to the Mad Hatters Casino?” He gives a stiff nod before you look at Kirsoon.

“You’ll be taking their money from now on. What’s your real name?”

“Hyunwoo.” He whispers as you round the desk.

“Hyunwoo.” You let the name roll off of your tongue before nodding. “Welcome to the Lions Den.”

He curses gently before you look over at Kirsoon, “Guess someone will be getting the money you so easily lost.”

You pat Hyunwoo on the shoulder before walking towards the doors. “Make sure he doesn’t run anywhere. We have a lot of money to collect.”

“Yes Madam!”

Arriving home, there was little to no noise besides crickets chirping as the sky became an onyx black littered with small dots of stars. You could only hope Jimin had gone to bed by now so that you didn’t have to beat around the bush as to why you didn’t come home with him. Kirsoon was very capable of dealing with things on his own and the both of you know this. You take off your heels before stepping up the left staircase silently. Your eyes straining to see anything in the darkness but it’s welcoming to have this time to yourself.

You step up to the third floor before sighing gently, eyes lingering on the three metal doors to your right before anything else. Feet padding gently against the wooden floor you stop before the kids room which used to be yours. With a gentle push the room comes into view illuminated by the Tinkerbell night light that is plugged into the wall. Hawon sleeps soundly, arms over her face in her small bed and you find the corners of your lips turning upwards as she rolls over in her sleep. Minseok sleeps in his crib, on his stomach as per usual and you sigh gently.

The love you have for your two children could never diminish, never compare to anything else. You find yourself so immensely grateful for the both of them and your lips press into a straight line as you lean on the door frame. You and Jimin work hard to make sure they know how loved they are amidst your busy schedules. And, although you try to hide what you do from them you know they’ll discover it as they become older. It’s only a matter of time.

Your hand comes to your mouth as you stare at the both of them. There’s something tugging at your heart in this early hours of the morning, something akin to being empty. Your heart was full and your womb was empty. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards to have another one, maybe God was punishing you both for killing men and doing the jobs you’ve created for yourselves. Maybe just maybe you were fated with two and no more.

You shut the door to the kids room before looking over at the intricate wooden doors of the master bedroom. The lion so diligently carved into the wood makes you sigh. You remember a time when you stayed in the kids room and would open the door to look at Jimin’s doors with curiosity and burning passion. There was a sort of mysticality and longing when you first got together, he was something new and different for you and it brought a fire to your veins like nothing you had ever felt before. There was passion and ardor still, but there was also guilt and worry. Two emotions that sit in the pit of your stomach, roiling your nerves to no end.

You can only look forward to getting the Im’s and giving them payback. It’s something that keeps you going, keeps you moving. Because if you stop, that’s when the guilt and worry really settles in.

You open the door to the bedroom quietly, eyes scanning the moonlit room before seeing your husband in bed. You breathe a sigh of relief as he lays beneath the covers, one arm under his head and the other on the spot where you lay. His lips are parted as he lays still and your heart feels lighter just looking at his handsome face. That’s something you always find yourself grateful for. How being with him can change your mood like whiplash. Your worry is never at the forefront of your brain when you're with him. But, when you're alone that's a different story.

Climbing into bed you feel him shift, eyes opening blearily before smirking. “Hi Kitten.”

You hum to him as you lay down on your back, eyes on the canopy above you. He shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your body before putting his head on your shoulder. “Missed you.”

You kiss his forehead before closing your eyes, fingertips traipsing over the skin of his arm. “Missed you too.”

“I love you.” He mumbles sleepily and you smirk before getting comfortable beneath him, “I love you, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do.” Jimin mumbles with a mouth full of food before pointing his chopsticks in your direction. You sip your screwdriver before putting the spoon up to Minseok’s lips. You watch as he eats greedily before smiling at him and wiping his chin with your thumb. “And, what do you think I’m going to do?”

Jimin swallows before picking up his cup of coffee, “You’re going to send this Hyunwoo to steal from the Ims casino.” You look over at him before smiling. He scoffs gently as you pick up another spoon full of the scrambled eggs for your son. “Kitten.” Jimin mumbles before putting his hand on your knee.

You look down at his hand before crossing your legs, effectively knocking it off of you. He sighs loudly as you kiss Minseok’s forehead. “What if he gets caught?”

“He won’t.” You say before handing Minseok to Mirae as she sits at the breakfast nook. “But, what if he does? Isn’t the Casino Night enough? Shouldn’t we be worrying about that then having him take their money from counting cards?”

You hum to him before standing, you finish your screwdriver before kissing his forehead. “I want it all.” You flick your finger underneath his chin and he puts his hands over his face with a groan.

“Mirae watch the kids.” Jimin mumbles before chasing you.

“Hey, hey. Baby.” Your husband whispers, hands running over your bare arms as he stops you in the sitting room. Your arms fold before you look up at your husband. “Can we talk?” He begs of you and you clear your throat before walking past him. You cannot stop, you will not let the guilty set in.

“I have to go count the safe at the casino before it opens for the day.” Jimin’s tongue licks at his lips before he’s following behind you. “Please, Y/N. Give me five minutes.”

You enter your bedroom before walking into the closet and your husband closes the door behind you both. Locking it shut and pressing his back to it so you can’t leave even if you wanted too. “Very mature Jimin.” You mumble before rifling through your clothes.

“Are you angry with me?” He asks quietly and you raise your eyebrow before grabbing a Chanel dress you had bought not too long ago. “Angry? For what?”

His hands rub together and he stares at the floor. “You didn’t come home with me last night… I waited for you for hours.”

Oh God. Here we go. “I told you, I had Hyunwoo and the card counting to deal with.”

He nods thoughtfully before his head lolls back against the clouded glass door. “Kirsoon can take care of that stuff, too y’know.” You know this.

You take off your nightgown before sitting on the bench in your walk in closet. “I wanted to take care of it myself.” You whisper, guilt starting to set into your bones.

“That’s it? That’s the only reason why you didn’t come home with me?” You hesitate before nodding to your husband. “It’s not because we aren’t pregnant yet?”

Your jaw flexes in annoyance before you’re standing up. “Get out of my way. I have to take a shower and go.” You mumble stepping towards the door. He makes no move and you scoff before putting your hands through your hair.

“Baby.” His voice is gentle and it only makes you more upset. “Get out of my way Jimin.”

His hands reach for you and you take a step back, “Move. Before I make you.” You whisper to him. He swallows thickly before his mocha irises meet yours. “I know it must be really painful for you to not be pregnant yet and I’m really so-”

“Stop!” You cut him off before shoving him out of the way and unlocking the door. “Y/N. I know it’s probably taking a toll on you and I just want to make sure you know how much I love you.” He says as he follows you towards the bathroom.

“Leave me alone, Jimin.” You mumble before kicking open the bathroom door. You go to slam the door in his face, but he’s too quick and strong for that. He shoves the door open before following you inside and you groan loudly.

“What?! What do you want from me?!” You yell to your husband as you throw your dress onto the marble bench of the bathroom.

His eyes show sorrow as he looks at you and it only makes your heart clench tighter as you turn away from him. “Leave me be.” You tell him before turning on the shower.

He walks towards you before hugging you tightly and you shove at his body as your cheeks become inflamed with embarrassment and guilt. “Get off!” You yell to him before he tightens his grip.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you sigh impatiently as the bathroom begins to fog up with steam from the hot shower. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin.

“I love you, too.” You mutter out before he loosens his grip.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it. I don’t want to fucking think about it. So just leave me the fuck alone.” You tell your husband, perfectly manicured finger pointing in his direction.

He picks up your dress before sitting down on the marble bench. His legs cross and he watches you enter the steaming hot shower. He can feel his eyes begin to sting as you put your forehead to the white tiled wall. “Kitten, I think you’re projecting your anger about not being pregnant towards the Ims.” He whispers as his hands run over the expensive fabric of your dress.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?! Didn’t I?!” You yell before sitting down in the shower. With a heavy heart he continues on, knowing you need to hear this. “I know they killed your parents. I know there’s anger there that boils you like it does to me. But, you’re becoming aggressive. Like Jeongguk, you’re going about it in an unhealthy way. And, I think the reason is because you’re feeling guilty and hurt that we haven’t gotten pregnant again yet. I know that-”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! GET OUT!” You scream at the top of your lungs as water begins to berate your head as you lean forward. Jimin bites his bottom lip as you turn your face away from him.

“I love you so much, baby. Another baby will come. I know it.” You scoff before putting your hands to your face, your foot kicks at the porcelain tub. “We just have to keep trying.” He mumbles before rubbing his hands on his suit pants.

Jimin has never been one to just let things lie. It’s what you loved about him, if you’re being honest. He always takes time to talk to you about things that might be troubling you or him so you never have to tiptoe around each other. After the first fight you had when you were pregnant with Hawon, he never kept anything inside after that. You just wish for once he would leave you alone. “We have been trying. Trying and failing.” You find yourself saying, your voice cracks and his head hangs lower at the raw emotion behind it.

“I know, Kitten. I know it’s really hard for you right now. But, I’m your other half, you need to talk to me.” God, he’s so annoying and so right.

He takes off his clothes, folding them neatly onto the bench before climbing into the shower behind you. He sits down, legs sprawling out beside yours before hugging you tightly from behind. It’s then that a sob rips from you unexpectedly. Your arms fold over your knees before your face is pressed to them. Jimin kisses over your shoulder, letting the hot water soak his body as you begin to cry. “You’re the strongest woman I know. But, it’s okay to not be strong sometimes. That’s why I’m here. To be your other half for you to lean on.”

Your tears that fall blend in with the water as it runs down the porcelain tub and down the drain. You don’t cry, you don’t break down. You’re Park Y/N, the vixen. And yet…

Your husband sits with you for a while, just letting you cry and even that makes you feel worse. “I feel so empty.” You whimper to him and he looks up at the ceiling as his eyes fill with tears. Trembling lips caress your wet skin and he blinks out a few tears before nodding.

“We’ll get pregnant again. I know it. My heart bleeds for you, you know that. I see the way you look at yourself in the mirror these days when you think I’m not paying attention. I see it all, everything.” You bury your face into your legs at his admission.

“We’ll get through this just like anything we’ve done before. Alright?” You nod weakly as he runs a hand over your soaked head. “I love you, Kitten.”

A cigarette dangles from Hyunah’s lips as you lean back into your chair. “So what? I’m uninvited to Casino Night then?” She says to you before lighting her cigarette.

“Yes, you’re uninvited.” You tell your friend as you sit in her office. She scoffs before rubbing her hand over her forehead. “Why is that?”

“Because it’s not a party. It’s a death sentence and you are not invited to die.” You tell her before lighting your own cigarette. She frowns at you before folding her arms. “That’s when I have fun though. I love a good death sentence.”

You giggle gently before ashing your cigarette into the ashtray. “Why do you look like shit?” She questions as her butler places two glasses of wine on the desk.

You look down at your Chanel dress before raising an eyebrow. “I look like shit?” She hums as she pulls from her cigarette.

“You look all strung out and miserable. Not like a lioness at all, in fact.” You frown before pulling from your cigarette. “Hyunah. I’m really not in the mood to feel more shitty about myself today. Okay?”

She raises an eyebrow before leaning across the desk and wiping her thumb under your eye taking off some of your concealer. “Why’d you cry? Do I have to go kill that little boy?”

You roll your eyes before pulling away from her and grabbing your glass of red wine. “No. This isn’t about him. It’s about me.”

She tilts her head before clicking her teeth. “You want another baby?”

“Oh my God, can you not do that fucking shit for like three seconds?!” You whine to her before standing up. She watches you pace in front of the fireplace before looking at her butler. “Brew some tea, with the tea leaves still inside.”

“No!” You whine to her as her butler leaves. “Yes.”

“I don’t want that shit! I just want to forget about it!” She shakes her head before grabbing her glass of wine. “Tough shit, lioness. We’ll see what the spirits say.”

You stare at Hyunah as the tea pot is set in front of the both of you. She pours you a cup before holding it out. You fold your arms and she shakes her hand gently. “Drink the fucking tea and then swirl the sediment. You’ve done this before when you were pregnant with Minseok and everything I said was correct. Yes or no?”

You grunt gently before nodding, “Then drink the fucking tea.”

You grab the cup before sneering at your older friend. She sips her wine before smirking at you. Good old Lee Hyunah. You chug the tea, the bitterness making you wince before you swirl the cup and hand it back to her. She clears her throat before setting the cup onto the table.

“Let’s see.” She mumbles and you lean forward without a second thought. It’s not that you didn’t believe the tea leaves. It’s that you don’t want to hear bad news from her that you’re suddenly infertile or some shit.

“Interesting.” She whispers to herself and you find yourself rolling your eyes. “Hyunah!”

The leaves just look like blobs and dashes to you and you find your tongue roaming over your teeth afraid any had gotten stuck in the crevices. “I see many things here, lioness.”

“Like?” You mumble feeling nervous now.

She points to four circles in a row before looking up at you, “That’s a chain, symbolizes a string of events coming your way.”

“An anchor is also apparent, meaning things are going to become difficult to change. Maybe within the string of events.”

You tilt your head as her eyes widen, “There is something like a basket which usually symbolizes fertility and a new addition.”

Your breath catches in your throat before you’re leaning your elbows onto the desk for more information. “What else?” You whisper as you peer into the cup of sediment.

“A bouquet. Symbol of a happy marriage.” You begin to smile before she takes a sharp breath between her teeth before picking up the cup.

“Oh, lioness.” You can hear the concern in her voice and it makes you shrink in form. “What?” You mumble uneasily.

She points at a black smudge of leaves before swallowing thickly. “That’s a beast, it means misfortune. And right next to it is a skull.”

She looks up at you before closing her eyes, “The one next to it is a raven.”

She opens her eyes before exhaling long and slow, “It means you’re going to die.”

#the lions den #the bird cage sequel #bts story #mafia!au #bts mafia!au #mafia!jimin #mafia!jimin x reader #mafia!jimin x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts series #btscreatorscorner

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ghost-ghost-baby · 4 years

Text

Scales pt. 4a //yan!bakusquad fantasy au//

a/n: im so fuckin sorr this took so long lol, it was actually written but life was too crazy to edit/post. i had to make this angsty so it wouldnt turn out horny

Pt. 5

warnings: swearing, mature themes? mentions of past abuse/trauma

Things felt weirdly normal when you woke up, and despite the memories that flashed through your head you kept your cool. You needed to be logical, it was the only way you’d be able to get out of here alive. Denki was in your arms when you finally opened your eyes, and a weight lifted from your chest. Oh thank gods you were together. That made things easier. The room was… undoubtedly luxurious, Shigaraki sure knew how to play nice when he wanted. Horror shot through you when you saw the iron collar clamped around Denki’s neck. Fuck, you knew what that was. you’d seen it used before, and Denki wasn’t going to be able to help with it on. You’d need a diamond to get it off, unless you could get the key. Fucking Shigaraki, he’d be here soon to gloat. The fucker loved nothing more than being validated for what he’d done.

“I didn’t appreciate your little stunt.” Shigaraki finally showed his face, and your eyes narrowed as you stared at him from the bed.

“If you were bored you should have just told me. I thought you liked the solitude while I was busy, but obviously I was wrong.” He took a seat next to you and your skin crawled, had he gotten crazier? “But that’s all in the past now, and you have your own pet to keep you entertained.” Oh yeah he absolutely lost it while you were gone. You stayed silent as you watched his fingers trail over your leg to Denki’s sleeping form next to you. The threat was clear despite him staying silent. If you tried anything, he’d take it out on Denki.

“Thank you.” You had to force the words out, any feelings you had right now didn’t matter. You just needed to keep Denki safe, and that meant keeping Shigaraki happy until you could get away. It worked, his chapped lips stretched into a grin as he made himself comfortable besides you, showing no intention of leaving any time soon.

“They did WHAT?” Katsuki flung his sword across the room, the metal sending up a puff of feathers when it hit the bed. He’d just gotten back from a war meeting, and this was the first thing he had to hear?

“How dare that dry ass motherfucker send his cronies here, I’ll get Y/n and Denki back myself.” He snarled, and Hanta had to jump on him before he could leave .

“Katsuki, calm down, if you go rushing in it’ll only make the situation worse.” Mina crouched down, making sure she was in the blondes line of sight so he had no choice but to listen.

“Yeah man, Izuku can help, right?” Hanta added, still pinning Katsuki down.

“And Shoto too, we have allies Katsuki, we don’t have to just rush in.” Mina glanced at Kiri, who nodded in agreement despite the fact he wanted nothing more than to bolt to wherever you were. He just needed to make sure you were safe. At least Denki was with you, the two of you could take care of each other for the time being, and it would be enough that the bond wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Fine, get them here, now! We need to do this quickly!” Katsuki gave in with a snarl, the more people he had to crush that extra, the better.

Fingers tapping your thigh made you jump, and you dropped the book in your hands as you turned to Denki. He’d just been…dozing, barely waking up to eat and drink.

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Weird, kinda out of it… where are we?” Gold eyes darted around the room, horror growing in them with every passing second. “What happened to Mina?” Denki was starting to panic, and you had to grab his hand to make him look at you.

“She got away, I sent her back to Katsuki so she could get help.” You soothed, hand smoothing over his hair. “You know what they're like, I'm sure they're planning something right now.” He didn't look convinced, and you wondered how he hasn't noticed the iron around his neck.

“Why can't we just break out?”

“If there's a sure opportunity for us to escape I'll take it, but you can't fight with the collar on, and I can't get it off while we're here.” You grabbed his wrists to stop him tearing at it, there was no use.

“Don't try to use your powers, okay? I'm not sure what it'll do, but the ones I've had have never been good. Your powers will activate the selected gem, and depending on that the collar will do something. I don’t want to risk it.”

“How do you know all this?” Denki squinted at you, and you dropped his arms, hands folding in your lap as you thought about how to explain that.

“I um, always had a talent for magic, my teachers kept track and when I graduated Shigaraki noticed and I uh… didn’t exactly go along with him at first, so he chose a… harsher…? Way for me to learn and fit into his… role for me.” The words stuck in your throat on the way up, you never thought you’d have to tell anyone that.

“I know it might be… a lot, and I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get out of here, but you need to trust me, okay Denki?” You couldn't look at him, your whole plan needed him, you couldn’t leave him here alone.

“Okay Y/n, but I’ll hold you to that promise.” You couldn’t help startle when Denki surged forward, nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. This wasn’t the reaction you expected, he went along so easily?

“O-Okay, just follow my lead, he needs to let his guard down and I… know how to do that.”

“The meeting was awful, honestly that scum are lucky I have you to calm me down… so I don’t have to resort to more extreme methods.” You’d tuned out most of Shigaraki’s rant, Denki had fallen asleep and you didn’t see the point in waking him for this. The king had his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair with a familiarity you hated. Shigaraki turned so he was facing you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek and you were lucky he was delusional enough to think the shudder that ran through you was good.

“Hmm? What happened this time?” You forced the words out, pretending to care really fucking sucked. His answer was lost as Denki started to stir next to you, oh god why’d he have to wake up now? He was gonna say something bad and it’d be over for the both of you. Shigaraki was still mumbling on while your eyes were fixed on Denki, humming your acknowledgment at the appropriate intervals so he’d think you cared.

“I swear it’d be better if I just ripped their heads off, then I could just stay here with you.” These words were mumbled into your skin,, Shigaraki going from laying in your lap to straddling you and hiding his face in your neck before you could do anything to stop him. You hated when he got like this, it could last for days if he was feeling particularly insecure or clingy.

“But then you’d have nobody to do what needs to be done, and you’d be spending even less time here.” Denki spoke and your heart stopped, oh god oh god ohgod. Shigsraki pulled back to look at the blonde, eyebrows raised as he considered that option.

“You have a point.” The king shrugged before he went back to your neck as if nobody had spoken, lips brushing against your skin as he grew bolder. Unease surged through you at the contact, the force of it through the bond almost made Denki transform, but he remembered you needed him to be good so you could get them out of here, and so he settled for buying his face in your thighs. He really hoped you knew what you were doing, and that the others were planning something. A knock at the door had your heart jumping into your throat, and after a growled answer from Shigaraki, Dabi entered the room. His voice was bored as ever while he spoke, something about needing Shigaraki back in the war room because their scouts had spotted something. A grunt left the king as he started to get up, unable to stop himself nipping at your neck before he pulled away, the red already blooming had him satisfied enough to slink over to Dabi and, in turn, leave you and Denki alone again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry this is all my fault-“ your anxiety took over the second the door closed, throat clogging up and tears clouding your vision. Kiri should have just left you to die, then none of them would be in this mess.

“C’mon, you’re okay, come back to me now.” Denki pulled your chest to his, forcing your breathing to follow his as he focused on calming you down. Your eyes slowly came back into focus, gold was the only thing you could see for a moment before Denki pulled back.

“Is that better?” His hand brushed the tears off your face, a comforting smile on his face. How could he look so angelic in this situation?

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You wiped your nose, humiliation setting in as you realised how pathetic you must look, you needed to be stronger if you were going to get out of here alive.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, this is a tough situation.” Denki shrugged, he didn’t want to pressure you into talking about your past, but something big had obviously happened. Your unease was still flooding through the bond, easily alerting Denki to the fact you weren’t fine, worse, you were lying to him about it. He just wanted to help. Maybe he should try and distract you? Opting to cheer you up any way he could, Denki cuddled into your side, making sure he was monitoring how you felt though the bond. Your gaze shifted as the blonde rubbed over your skin, making a noise you could only describe as a croon while his face nuzzled against your neck. The noise was… weirdly comforting, and it wasn’t long before you felt some of the anxiety leaving you. Denki was over the moon, you were responding so well! His crooning picked up at how happy he was, and you let your head rest on his shoulder, your own hands finding his and intertwining with them. You were almost asleep when the door opening had you jumping awake, Denki slowly blinking as he figured out what had spooked you. Confusion was all that remained when you saw Dabi there, Shigaraki nowhere to be seen as he closed the door behind him.

“I talked to Shoto, I’m gonna help you out.”

“Dabi agreed to help us, but in return he wants Shigaraki alive, for himself. It’s the best chance we have, he’s the kings right hand.” Shoto deadpanned, completely unbothered by the snarling warrior being held back by Kirishima next to him.

“I wanna rip that bastard to shreds, fuck Dabi, we can do this without him.” Katsuki finally managed to get out after he’d been calmed down, a task that took several minutes.

“It’d take longer, you really want to sacrifice Y/n and Denki so you can kill someone?” Hanta had to help hold Katsuki back at that remark from Shoto.

“Katsu, Shoto’s right, our priority needs to be getting them quickly, not killing Shigaraki.” Mina placed her hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, the thing that finally calmed him down enough to mumble out a fine and get on with the actual planning.

“Finally, now what we’re going to do is cause a distraction on the battlefield, during which Dabi will knock out Shigaraki and get Denki and Yn to a safe destination we’ll go to after the battle. Now, onto the details…”

“You’re what? No way, it’s a trap right? Shigaraki is testing my loyalty? I’m not falling for something like this again.” You shook your head as you paced the room, Denki still sitting on the bed and Dabi lounging on a chair next to the desk. It was exactly the kind of thing that bastard would do.

“Bakugo told me to tell Denki about the dandelions.” Dabi ignored your rant, instead turning to Denki and raising his eyebrows at the blonde. Lower lip between his teeth, The blonde slunk over to you, grabbing your hand tightly before he spoke.

“It’s not a trap, Y/n, he’s telling the truth.”

“You don’t know that, what if they captured someone that told him?” You hissed, eyes darting over to the nonchalant figure in the chair.

“Hey, you asked me to trust you before, I need you to trust me now. Okay?” He presses a kiss to your cheek when he was finished, and despite your best efforts that smile got to you, made you relax and squeeze his hand.

“I-Fuck. Okay, I trust you.”

Taglist under the cut (let me know if there are any problems/you want to be added)

@averydrearydiana@wolfygecko@baby-snart@ssnaketongue@that-one-piece-oftrash@emilysimaginesblog@generousdigitalartartghost@slowly-gently@toffee1812@izzys-complete-insanity@sexisquid@icecreamguru03@tessamarie22@peculiar-faerie@lunaralpha270@max7500@graduatedmelon@everstrange1@saltytocrusade@dark-side-blog2@tinyspacesaurus@shimyshimyagustd@teacaku@shinethesensational@yooalicee@radnickeltoadbat@superrllama@trinshappyplaces@kai-iaa@mini-kunoichi-universe@estellegladiolus@kirapholia@lemonmaim@skylerstorm2@phantomfunguschild@naked-canadians@meaper112@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx @elektraeriseros@alpacalunches@a-mistake-tbh@evienorville@kirapholia@lemonmaim

@skylerstorm2@naked-canadians@degenerate-yandere@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx@artificially-chill@brbgettingchocolates@redvelevetdog@zaboomanyoom@alpacalunches@bad-boquet-of-emotions@tokyohealth@okthensherlock@imlosingmyshit@smallangrynerd@cherry-mariss@frostfox382

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

Note

I have one thing to say (make that two)

You are such a brilliant writer and I love love loveee your fics! They are absolutely wonderful even though they make me sad :( but in a good way :)

Point numero deux: ouch :(

Oh one last thing,

So for school, we are supposed to be thinking about a start for a short story we are going to write and I was wondering if you had any tips on how to think about plot lines, dialogue, anything?

Oh my goodness, hello, this is so kind!! 🥺🥰 I’m happy to bring any sort of emotion–be it happy or sad...

As for writing advice–oooh. These are such great questions and I just feel so unqualified to answer because I’m chaotic evil when it comes to writing haha. I’m sure you can find way better advice from a multitude of better/more organised writers on here, but I’ll give it a shot, using the basic tips I tend to stick to! :)

Brainstorming: all of my brainstorming happens via sticky notes or the notes app on my phone. If I’m working, I scribble an incomplete thought onto a sticky note and stick it to my desk. If I’m going about my day in some other way, I open the notes app on my phone where I have a huge app with about 70 random fic ideas.

What comes first: for me, it’s always dialogue, dialogue, dialogue. If you’ve ever read anything of mine, you probably already know how much of a crutch this is for me, but that’s just the reality I live in haha. I’ve been trying to challenge myself to write beyond that recently, but it’s tough. My wit is one of my only good qualities, so normally that wiggles it’s way in to my characters’ conversations.

When I get an idea for an exchange of banter, angsty back-and-forth, or maybe just a great one-liner...I write that first. Dialogue is always my favourite so getting that on the paper first makes writing fun. For me, at least. Some people are incredible at painting scenes and establishing iconic metaphors or dropping some gut-wrenching descriptions. It’s just not my ish, sadly. But I’m working on it!!

A lot of wips look like this until I go fill in the gaps:

“Your lying skills have only deteriorated over time, young one.” Obi-Wan...in a tired but sassy way? Smiling maybe? Or too soon.....

“So has your hairline, old one.” Ahsoka. Smirk or grin?

Plot lines: ha. Yikes. So, I’m notoriously bad at plots, which is why I mostly stick to one-shots. But with the one multi-chapter I have going right now (so obviously not very experienced advice hahah), I made an outline. Which is just absolutely wild, considering I am the least organised writer ever. For this, I jotted out little plot points that I knew I wanted to include, leading up to the ending that I already had in place. For this particular fic, the ending is why I wrote it at all, so I actually ended up writing the entire last chapter first haha. But the first part of my outline looks like this–

Obi bringing ani home and awkward move-in (room switch?)

Breakfast? ‘what do nine-year-olds even EAT?’

Obi choosing not to cut his hair (bc of QG but he doesn’t realise that yet)

Obi giving ani a tour of temple and running into soka

Soka being blunt about the “old padawan”

Obi and ani argument over <something>

Obi wandering temple and thinking about qui-gon

Obi council meeting “worried about you” “im fine”

Obi runs into ahsoka on way back giggling in gardens with friends

Super incoherent and basic, but I wrote out a long bullet outline like that first and then grouped things together into rough chapters. Sometimes, I write more for a scene than I intended, so I’ll bump a tiny plot to the next chapter. But it helps me stay linear and focused. On that same document (beneath the outline), I have random bits of dialogue that I know I want to include, but don’t have a home for yet.

All in all, if your thing is super plotty, I think the most important bit of advice is to begin with the end in mind. Writers (me, I’m talking about me) have a nasty habit of thinking the plot will find them–and sometimes it does. But, personally, I’d rather have the plot skeleton there, so I can spend my extra efforts developing the characters and relationships.

As for thinking about plot lines in general: draw inspiration from things you love!! The multi-chapter I mentioned above is shamelessly a product of me watching Monster’s Inc. and cackling at how fumbling and awkward Sully is with Boo because what’s a child!!! But from that comes the absolute sweetest relationship. So I thought: what if Obi-Wan knew Ahsoka before TCW...when she was a youngling? What would that dynamic be like? And just kind of rolled with it. I hope that people reading that story don’t think to themselves ‘well this is just a Monster’s Inc. AU!!!!’ because it’s certainly strayed so far from that original idea. And since you’re a fellow creative, I sense you won’t have that issue either 😉

Anyway, that was a lot of rambling that probably wasn’t all that helpful, but I would love to open this up to any of my other writer friends!!! If you have things that work for you, please feel free to add on to this! I’m absolutely positive I’ll learn something new myself 🎉

And anon–when you finish this project...if you’re feeling brave, maybe consider posting it on here and tagging me! I’d love to read it!! 🥰❤️

#abi answers #anon #writing #this was all over the place and I’m SORRY I’m not more procedural or experienced!!!!#and you probably didn’t want to read a NOVEL of my random writing things but I don’t know how to be succinct!#again: SORRY

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hwangdol · 5 years

Text

l.jn: just shoot your shot

summary: can jeno just be confident in himself? pls? pretty pls?

pairing: student-athlete!jeno x tutor! (fem) reader

warning: PROCEED WITH CAUTION! GRAMMAR MISTAKES! AND CRACKHEADS! ALSO CURSING! i’m back and i’m not dead so here’s some athlete!jeno that everyone was looking forward too. just a reminder, this is apart of my collab with @huangsren so check out her art-hoe! renjun and childhood-friend! chenle in our dreamies highschool au. i’m not really satisfied with this piece compared to my other two. hopefully, this still slaps. also, there will be for sure a second part to this so yuh. enjoy.

okay so let’s get this straight lee jeno is THAT guy whose in like all of the sports teams on campus

basketball, baseball, football, soccer, track and field, cross country, pickleball, etc he’s on them all

he was deadass about to join the cheerleading team just so he could have the clout of being on all of the teams

ngl imagine a cheerleader!jeno,,,hell yeah that’s my shit

but he didn’t bc he isn’t as big of a crackhead as one like to think

jeno has the reputation of the silent cold guy, but in actuality is a big FLOOF ball especially with his close friends (aka jaemin)

he’s well-liked by everyone bc he’s hecka nice once they look pass that cold exterior and he’s realllly hot.

just picture sweaty!jeno after practice using his shirt to wipe off his sweat allowing everyone to have a glimpse of his abs.

sign me the fuck up

he’s just extremely shy and socially awkward so he doesn’t really know how to interact w people when he meets them for the first time so a lot of people just think he’s that distant, angsty type

it still shocks a shit ton of people when they find out he’s best friends with the social butterfly/ fboi! jaemin but don’t get him wrong bc he doesn’t go around town breaking hearts left and right like his best buddy does

as much as jeno likes to deny it, he is a ROMANTICIST

way back in freshmen year, jeno was captivated by a teenage romance which he blames ara (from fucq-boi! jaemin au) for roping him into all those barbies and chick-flick movies.

like his heart flutters at the idea of his significant other wearing his jersey to his games or sharing a milkshake at the local ice cream parlor,,,he wants to give them his hoodie and cuddle on the couch (hopefully watching barbie princess charm school)

BABY BOY JUST WANTS TO BE LOVED !

but he doesn’t want it to be superficial like what jaemin does

he highly disapproves of jaemin’s casanova ways

jaemin is probably really glad about the bros before hoes rule bc he would have lost jeno a long time ago with all of the girls he goes through

jeno knows that love is a delicate thing and should be treated seriously which is why he’s so against jaemin’s date and ditch

and jeno wants to be in a relationship! but he can’t bc he has like NO time for the lovey-dovey highschool bs (also bc he’s highkey scared that he might ruin any relationship he gets himself into)

the boy has back to back practice from all the sports he decided to take on

on multiple occasions, different practice times interfere with each other and instead of just missing one like he SHOULD, jeno decided to take em both on at the same time

catch him sprinting from the soccer field to the football field back and forth in between break times

one time, basketball and swimming practice collided w each other so jeno thought it was smart to go back and forth from the school’s pool to the gym after he’d finish a 1000M IM set and shot at least 15 3-pointers

let’s just say he flashed a lot of people, running half-naked with only his drag suit on when he forgot to put on his sweatpants in one of his runs back and forth

art-hoe! renjun never lets him live it down much to his embarrassment

“remember that one-time jeno displayed his junk to the whole student body? good times, good times”

cue jeno throwing a pencil at renjun or chasing him down the halls

jeno’s abs were the talk of the school for at least a whole month and our boi had red cheeks every time he heard someone talk about it

because of that jeno double-checks, quadruple-checks to make sure that his pants are on before booking it to the gym to shoot hoops

ALSO

another reason why a lot of people find jeno so intimidating and hard to approach was bc of the fight that happened between his ex-friend! stoner-boi!haechan sophomore year

no one expected that the calm, seemingly unbothered jeno could throw punches that hard. it was like he transformed into the hulk or something

except jeno didn’t like the new reputation he gained over a stupid fight with his once close friend.

there’s one nasty habit that jeno can’t seem to let go of no matter how much jaemin and renjun tell him to fix

the boy holds onto grudges like there’s no tomorrow

there was one time where jaemin had to borrow jeno’s phone for something and he accidentally dropped it

“hey can i borrow your phone to call someone? mine’s dead.” jaemin asked him.

“no, last time i gave it to you, you cracked it”

“dude! it was one time”

“say that to my cracked screen”

“for goodness sake, jeno, i only cracked your screen protector!”

“still you broke it”

yeah, jaemin never got to use jeno’s phone ever again.

someone didn’t give back the pencil he lent them? he doesn’t even look in their direction until jaemin nags him enough to just let it go

which is probably why he and haechan still vehemently hate each other even though renjun and jaemin are ready to go talk things out with haechan

some part deep down insides knows he should just let it go and actually talk things out with haechan on why he initiated the fight bc haechan was once someone jeno considered as a bro

and jeno doesn’t give out bro passes as easily

he just doesn’t know how to approach haechan or if haechan would even be willing to talk it through

it’s kinda sad how the two of them don’t even look each other in the eye or acknowledged each other existence anymore

other than that jeno is practically flawless, jk

as much as he is very enthusiastic in physical education, when it comes to math, science, etc, jeno is basically flunking. like borderline passing in all of his classes

he was for sure failing math though which is a HUGE problem…bc to stay on any team sport, he CAN’T be failing a class

which is why jeno was currently spending his free period, in the library, furiously erasing his wrong answer for the problem he tried multiple times to solve. it was the first math problem on the remedial work packet that his math teacher gave him for extra practice.

even his friend, smartass renjun gave up on helping him and went to go toy around with his telescope, going on a tangent about renjun’s alien conspiracies theories.

if only jeno could have renjun’s genius brain, life would be so much easier

slamming his head on the table, jeno let out a low groan of frustration at whoever decided that it was a good idea to mix number and letters together.

“dude, can you not?” he heard someone say from next to him.

he lifted his head to take a peek…and this is where you come in, glaring at him with murder on your mind

jeno’s just staring at you and the fool does not recognize you at all

NCT High isn’t a big place either so he would have come across you once or twice, but you were simply a new face to him.

you, at this point, grew annoyed at the boy who was just shameless staring at you.

“is there something on my face?” you asked with a raised eyebrow

slowly he shakes his head ‘no’

“keep it down, i’m trying to sleep” you warned him before laying your arms now with your head resting on it, faced away from jeno.

jeno, who was awe-struck for second at your frank personality, decided that it was time to have another go at the problem and looked at it again

yeah there was no way in hell he was going to be able to solve it, he was too fucking lost

atm jeno is like .000000001 seconds away from having a mental breakdown because if he doesn’t pass his test this friday he’s going to be benched and if he fails the class then he loses his status of team captain and his spot on the soccer team which he cannot afford to bc it was SENIOR year and he should be living in all of his sports glory right now

and what if he can’t graduate? he can’t be a super senior like lucas wong like nooo that can definitely not happen

literally, jeno, stop freaking out - sincerely admin minnie

suddenly while he was having an overthinking session, his paper and pencil were taken away from him. he watches as the culprit (you) quickly solve the problems on the piece of paper in record time with wide eyes

letting out a small huff, you gave him back the paper wordlessly before going back to your previous sleeping positions hoping to get back to your precious nap time. your actions leaving jeno’s mouth opened in awe as his eyes glances back and forth between the answer sheets and the ones you provided him, both matching up perfectly with no mistake

he looks back at your sleeping form and wonders if you’re an actual prodigy like renjun

but jeno also feels really bad for disturbing your nap so he lets you be and tries to quietly work on the other problems and review how you solved the ones he had trouble on earlier

except he’s even more confused bc there was more numbers and letters;; no comprendo

jeno’s brain: ajadkf;dskjhg;ajdsvf;

he contemplates ask you for help or a basic explanation since there was no way that jeno learned how to solve that in class (he did, he just slept through the lecture because he was dead-beat tired after a heavy soccer practice from the night before)

jeno’s fear of flunking overweighed his social awkwardness so he pokes you gently with his pencil eliciting a grumpy “what do you want, now?” from you

gulping, jeno mumbles a small “can you help me, i don’t understand how you solved this”

you looked intently at jeno not answering his questions causing the boy to instantly regret asking, but surprisingly you replied

“what don’t you get?” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and shifted towards the male

“i don’t even know what i don’t know”

i felt that jeno. i felt that.

he pulls the piece of paper between the two of you and points to a problem that you did with ease

“oh, so you’re so supposed to…” you launched off into an explanation filled with math terms that adds more to jeno’s confusion

sensing that jeno still wasn’t understanding, you let out a big sigh

“sorry, it just doesn’t make sense in my head” jeno admitted shyly

at first, you were gonna say something snappy about how even an eighth-grader could do this problem easily, you held it back because you actually felt bad since jeno was trying so hard

you also weren’t going to deny that lw jeno looked quite cute with that adorable slight pout on his face

“let’s just take it slow, i’ll explain step by step”

so you did just that, patiently teaching the methods and theorems to jeno who constantly made that confused noise every time you introduced something new to the table

the two of you worked through five of the worksheets and jeno was actually understanding it! horray!

you were explaining the last problem to jeno when he stops you with a question that was completely off-topic

“why are you helping me?”

it was simple question so you answered it simply.

“because you looked like you need it.” you shrugged “i was trying to take a nap earlier but it was too loud for me with your constant erasing”

“sorry” jeno said looking down at his lap, embarrassed that he was a nuisance to you

you kind felt bad ngl so you quickly reassured him

“don’t worry about it. you remind me of my idiotic friends, not that you’re an idiot though. actually, no comment.”

we love a blunt y/n.

you clicked the pen you were holding and placed it down, “i moved here a couple months ago so i barely know anyone. now that it’s senior year, everyone already has their own friend group so why bother trying to join them?”

jeno makes another confused noised at your blunt statement.

you wondered if that particular noise has some type of effect on you due to the fact that you have a sudden urge to explain your situation to the boy you hardly knew for more than the hour

“i used to go to miroh high, but my dad got a transfer here so he decided to enroll me at this school without my say. i left all my friends back there sadly”

“that sucks,” was all that jeno could say.

damn his inability to socialize like a normal human being.

you nodded, “yeah, it does, but it’s not that bad. my friends make an effort to come down here most weekend and sometimes i drive up there too.” you turn to look at him and jeno freezes at the sudden eye contact “actually, you remind me of my friend hyunjin. he was kind of a ditz in anything that wasn’t sports”

“wait, how do you know that i play sports?” jeno asked confused

“dude, everyone knows that you’re the school’s mvp.” you said as if it’s obvious “you’re not as intimidating as they say you are though.”

damn it

he was hoping you had no idea who he was so that could relieve his guilt of not knowing who you were despite being in the same graduating class.

at the same time, he was glad that he seemed to have made a good impression on you

“don’t worry, i won’t spill your little secret” you gestured to the worksheets which had red pen markings all over it, signs of jeno’s failures. you figured that the school’s star jock didn’t want the school knowing his inability to solve basic 12th-grade math problem

you reached under the table to grab your backpack, causing jeno to reach a hand out to grasp your wrist

“wait, where are you going?”

a part of him was afraid that he was going to forget everything you taught him once you left, but the other part was extremely curious about you and wanted to know more

“i have somewhere to go?” you looked down at his hand and back up at him “you have something else you want to say?”

sensing that his grip was making you feel uncomfortable, he quickly pulled his hand away. rubbing the back of his neck. he avoids your eyes, opting to stare at your feet instead.

“this might be a little weird, but can you please tutor me? at least until next week when i have to take my make-or-break test.” jeno plead, embarrassment rushed to his cheeks in the form of a red blush when he realized how desperate he sounded.

you let out a tiny giggle, totally different from your persona earlier.

you took his pencil that was laying on the table to scribble something on the corner of his worksheet. patting his shoulder, you quickly left the boy staring at the piece of paper.

don’t get confused (127) 312-0325 :)

a stupid smile made it’s way onto jeno’s lips as he quickly packed up his things in haste. he practically skips to soccer practice. maybe he even heel-clicked.

lee jeno is not failing math!

cute tutor acquired!

woohoo!

but also, there’s this weird tingly feeling that jeno has inside.

he doesn’t know what exactly it was but most likely it’s probably the reason why he was a goofy-ass smile on his face

“dude, are you okay?” one of his teammates ask after he gets hits in the head with a soccer ball

jeno, not even fazed by it one bit, just smiles and gives his teammates a big thumbs up

“coach, i think there’s something wrong with jeno!”

anyways, that night he’s extremely excited to text you.

imagine jeno on his bed, laying on his stomach feet up in the air, taking at least an hour to construct a response that doesn’t make him seem lame or a fifty-year-old man like all of his friends say he texts like

jeno is probably the type of person that texts, with all the correct capitalization and actual punction plus awkward spacing and usage of emojis

this time he tried to be chill about it

jeno: hey, it’s me, jeno. sorry for bothering you this late at night, but i don’t understand this problem. can you help me pls?

sent.

now jeno was currently awaiting your response….however, you don’t reply right away like jeno for some reason expects

he takes the waiting time to scroll through his social media and it’s the usual things he sees every day

he sees the juniors’ chenle and his weird little friend talking about some sort of prank they’re going to pull, jaemin’s spam post on how he was stuck making prom decorations to fulfill his community service requirements, etc

however, a sudden post from @/luccasss caught his attention

especially the girl sitting on top of an old blue car with the senior, middle fingers up

his eyes glance at the caption quickly

me and my main bitch fucking it up (pc to our little kiddo)

wait a minute.

jeno could remember you saying how you didn’t bother making friends w anyone, so what are you doing with the lucas wong?

now lucas wong doesn’t have that great of a reputation around campus, especially since he was a held back his senior year. he blows off class and jeno has heard that he’s in cahoots with the stoners on campus too

your account is tagged in the picture and luckily it’s on public, so jeno could secretly and shamefully stalk your page

while looking through your photos, jeno realizes that he really doesn’t know anything about…. you

tbh he didn’t even know your name until he saw your bio and username. (facepalm @ jeno)

scrolling through your photos, he saw you posing with other boys and girls that he didn’t recognize making him assume that they were your friends from your old school

his fingers land on a picture where you’re kissing a cheek of ridiculously good looking guy. checking the tag, he sees that it’s a guy whose username was something along the lines of cb_97

imma miss my ddy chan <3!! owo

as he scrolling through the chan guy’s instagram, jeno becomes more dejected bc maybe he was too deep in his imagination that he got from watching too many dramas with ara

letting out a sad sigh, jeno clicks his phone off and settles into bed. the more he thinks about it the more he feels insignificant to you which he was.

for all he knows, he’s just a random kid in the library that you helped with a few math problems

the next day, jeno walks into school with no pep in his step :(

and as his certified besties, jaemin and renjun drag him into an empty classroom during lunch prying him to confess what’s got him down in the dumps

and jeno knows he can’t hide anything from his besties so he just lets it all out

jaemin, taking a long blink after his bff’s rant to process the newly acquired tea “wow, bro. you got the feels”

“exactly,” jeno groans “i only talked to her once! she doesn’t even know me!”

“she knows you suck at math,” renjun points out

and jeno threatens to throw a chair at his friend, but jaemin quickly stops him

“okay, how about you just take it slow? like get to know her and let her get to know you. it could be that you’re just overthinking her kindness for helping you when you were desperate. appreciation is different from admiration” ngl jaemin was kinda-sorta right

“btw, who is this chick anyway? you haven’t told us who it was” renjun asked, sitting on one of the empty desks

“y/n, she transferred a couple months ago from miroh”

renjun abruptly jumps to his feet, “the y/n l/n? the new math teacher’ daughter?”

“you know her?” jeno quirks an eyebrow

“dude she’s in my ap calculus class and she has the highest grade, but she never shows up to class,” renjun tells him. “she’s a straight, badass genius”

jeno feels stupider as renjun continues to list all of your achievements and the art boy makes it seem like all of them were done effortlessly.

how stupid was he in your eyes when he couldn’t solve regular senior math problems while you were out here solving college-based ones?

now you seem like a person farther and father away from him.

jaemin, his good-ol-buddy knows that jeno is over-analyzing the new information renjun was telling him, and he tries his best to hype is buddy up

“c’mon, you might not be a genius at math but you certainly are on any field, pool, and court. have some confidence!”

deep down jeno knows that he should listen to his friend and that he should just be more confident in himself, but he can’t shake his feeling of insecurity and doubt

so the next time he sees you laying on the empty table in the non-fiction section sleeping, he’s a bit more reluctant to approach you. instead, he quietly sits in the seat next to you as he pulls out his practice sheets to work and miserably fail on

except you don’t wake up for a looong time until jeno accidentally sneezes too loud, causing you to awaken

opening your eyes, you see the boy look at you with wide eyes as if he’s done something terribly wrong by waking you up

“why do you look like i’m about to kill you or something?” you giggled watching as the boy in front of you became very flustered “why didn’t you wake me up when you came here?”

“oh, you look like you were in deep sleep, so i didn’t want to wake you up”

you stretched your arms out, one hand over your mouth as you let out an inaudible yawn, “don’t worry about it. i’m always sleeping”

you blamed all of your fatigue on lucas as it was his fault that you were tired out of your mind from the little night adventure he roped both you and a junior named eun (y/n from childhood-friend!chenle’s au) into.

honestly, if it weren’t for lucas’s annoying ass laugh waking you up from your nap that one day, you probably wouldn’t have befriended the big bumbling bafoon.

“yeah, but apparently i’m failing the twelfth-grade again bc i’m not allowed to just go to homeroom and p.e. i mean, who wants to learn about FUNCTIONS when you could just be looking up memes in the library?!?” - lucas wong, 2019

despite lucas’s overwhelming personality, you were quite thankful to have him as he reminded you of your old friends back at miroh, it was nice.

eun was a soft-spoken child that often had to turn to you or lucas (which wasn’t always a good idea) for advice that you both were happy to give to the underclassmen.

personally, you didn’t care that you only had like two friends, quality over quantity right?

“earth to jeno?” you waved your hand in front of his face as he stayed unresponsive

he mumbles something inaudible and points at a problem

your eyes gloss over it taking in the problem, before quickly grabbing a pen and solving it. you spoke slowly as you explained the step-by-step solution that jeno had to do.

when you look back at jeno to make sure that he was understanding the content, you noticed how the jock is off in his own universe and not paying attention to you.

“please don’t make me repeat that again,” you sigh, catching jeno’s attention. you capped the pen and lightly tossed it on the table, proceeding to stretch out your hands above your head.

“sorry”

“what’s up with you?” you asked, wondering why the boy who seemed desperate for your help yesterday, was now acting like he could care less. “and don’t give me that stupid, generic “nothing” bullshit.”

“sorry, football was tough last night,” jeno said quietly, focusing on the problem.

despite not being involved in the school festivities, you knew that it was well past football season. and that meant that jeno was lying to you.

there was a slight pang of disappointment, but you pushed it aside. what were you expecting anyway? he probably only saw you as a tutor.

you weren’t even his friend for fuck’s sake

“let’s move onto the next problem” you say, quickly changing the subject.

honestly, the two of you were fucking idiots. smh

despite there being awkward tension between the two of you, you’re tutoring was actually very very helpful for jeno. he could actually understand what was going on in math class now.

remember that test he had to take to ensure that he could play for his soccer match? jeno passed that with flying colors thanks to your careful explanations

even after that test, the two of you kept your tutoring arrangement;;;and maybe jeno was falling even harder for you.

he couldn’t help it though! the way you run your fingers through your hair or the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re trying to think of a way to explain something to jeno just makes leaves him star-struck. and every time he gets a problem right without your help, the proud smile that you give him makes his heart leap

it wasn’t like you were safe from the love bug either!!

lee jeno was hard not to like and he was even harder to not fall for.

the little cute noises that he makes when he’s lost, the way his eyes go wide when he finally understands the problem, and the eye-smile he gives you when he gets a problem right.

your heart literally went uwu when jeno offered you his hoodie bc the two of you were sitting underneath the ac vent and you were shivering.

when you tried to give it back to him, he just shook his head and said “keep it, just in case you get cold”

lee jeno was not healthy for your heart. uwu hours 24/7

but the two of you were stuck in this weird relationship bc the two of you weren’t exactly friends, but also not strictly tutoring. you would share laughs here and there, but then quickly it would dial down and returned back to the math problems

some times when he was texting you, he would send a cute gif to show you that he understood and sometimes you would tell him about something funny/stupid lucas+eun or your other friends did.

“just ask him out,” lucas tells you bluntly as the both of you chilled on the bleachers during lunch.

“hard pass”

“fine, then i’ll do it.” lucas shrugs, eliciting a hard smack from you

“don’t embarrass me, you asstwat”

“who said i was asking him out for you? that boy is a fine piece of meat”

“istg, lucas, i’ll actually gouge your eyes out” you deadpanned.

but big ol’ oaf lucas doesn't see you as an actual threat. and he reaches out to grab your cheeks causing your face to form into a fish pout

“can you even reach me?” he teases, shaking around your face

and this the part where you’re pulling lucas into a headlock, oblivious to the fact that jeno was watching your toughy actions from afar

he kicked the soccer ball angrily into the goal causing jaemin to duck with a small shriek to avoid getting his head decapitated by jeno’s fastball

“dude wtf!” jaemin shouts

“sorry,” jeno mutters.

jaemin looks over to where jeno was staring at and saw you and lucas being really handsy with each other. from that distance that the two boys were looking it, it didn’t look like the roughhousing the two of you were actually doing

you pulling his hair to them looked like you were playing around with it

jaemin’s buddy jeno be looking like a kicked puppy rn, muttering under his breath about his shortcommings

jaemin is bout ready to slap him upside down the head for having no confidence or whateves

“can you stop talking shit about my bestfriend now?” jaemin @ jeno but the boy is on a whole ass rant on why he sucks in comparison to lucas

“of course she doesn’t like me. she has a whole lucas wong and he’s 6′0 ft of handsomeness. he’s fun and exciting, i’m staler than a moldy piece of bread!”

can jeno just love himself??????? is that to much to ask?

“i’ll just never be good enough for her. i’m not her type, she can do better than me.”

cue jaemin intense internal screaming

one day, jeno was going to your usual sitting spot in the library when he sees lucas chilling with eun—a girl that he’s seen around with his friend chenle. they were both laughing at something on lucas’s phone.

jeno looks at the sight confused. cause like aren’t you and lucas a thing? like why was this boy looking really chummy with this underclassmen?

so jeno clears his throat to catch their attention and both of them look at him like “who tf are you?”

“where’s y/n? she’s suppose to be tutoring me” jeno says

a look of recognition flashes across lucas’s and eun’s at the sound of y/ns name. the younger female whispers something to the senior causing him to clap his hands.

“oh so you’re, jeno??” lucas says in this voice

and jeno awkwardly nods

“yeah, y/n is skipping school today so she told me to tell you to look over the notes she wrote out for you” lucas pulled out a notebook and handed it to jeno

jeno flips through it carefully, examining the words you wrote in your familiar handwriting; there was also a highlight code system and little side comments to help him

“thanks” jeno about to leave but lucas’s next comments stop him

“you’re lucky that y/n likes you enough to do that for you. she wouldn’t even tell me whats 4x4 when i asked her” lucas slumped into his seat

“that because she thinks you have chronic stupidity” the underclassmen said, giggling

“aren’t you suppose to be on my side you little pipsqueak” lucas says jokily, rubbing her head.

and jeno is watching the exchange, getting more and more confused

did y/n know that lucas was hanging out w another girl without you?

“did you need something else, jeno?” eun asked him

jeno is about to say no, but different words left his mouth

“aren’t you dating y/n, lucas?”

there was a silence that lasted for a good minute, both lucas and the underclassmen giving jeno a blank stare….

until lucas bust out into ugly laughter, bent over his seat delirious and eun was also laughing along but not to the same degree.

was it really that funny? jeno be staying confused

it wasn’t until the librarian came to shush the two did they stop laughing

lucas wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes “that was a good one!”

“what do you mean?” jeno asked

“pffft eun would rather date a rabid animal than me,” lucas said “she’s only friends w me bc i forced her to be”

oh! that was news to jeno

“besides, lucas isn't y/n’s type” eun revealed, shocking jeno

oh really now?

“yeah, you fit her type really well,” lucas stated nonchalantly.

eun is like BRUH WHY WOULD YOU REVEAL THAT but doesn’t say anything and kicks lucas underneath the table. she could already picture the pure anger once her friend found out that lucas spilled her secret crush that easily.

robot jeno is just standing there holding the notebook and deep in thought.

“is he okay?” lucas whispers, looking up and down at jeno. eun shrugs in response

bOOM jeno zoom zooms away and the two high schoolers shrug at the jocks before returning to looking at dank memes

jeno basically charges down to the only female he’s friends with for advice, ara. (go read my fucqboi! jaemin for the backstory!)

conveniently, he finds both his jaemin and ara standing at her locker talking. tbh it looked more like jaemin trying to flirt with ara and her ignoring him.

but right now his friend’s girl problems were the least of jeno’s concerns!

so jeno basically hulk yanks jaemin away from ara and has the most serious expression on his face “i need your help, ara”

“huh?”

and he drags ara off to a more secluded place to explain his current situation to, ignoring jaemin’s whines

“to be honest with you, i think you need to have more confidence. now that you know that she isn't interested in lucas, why don’t you just take the initiative to confess?” ara says once jeno explained to her every juicy detail of his hopeless love story.

“because i don’t think that she likes me. there’s nothing special about me. the only things i’m good at are sports and that’s not very interesting!” jeno exclaims “she probably thinks i’m an actual idiot!”

“jeno, listen, i’m only going to say this once, but please please understand that you’re a very special person, okay? you’re extremely hard-working, nice, and honestly very fun to be around. it would take a fool to not like you, lee jeno.” ara sighed, patting her friend’s shoulder “just shoot your shot. if it doesn’t make it in, it’s okay.”

but jeno doesn’t like leaving things to chance. he wants to be sure and he hates uncertainty.

“when you’re competing or playing against someone, you have no idea how the whole game is going to pan out. all you know to do is to try your best and go all out to ensure the very best result so that you can win. liking someone is like that, you just have to go forward and hopefully, you’ll be able to score a home run or a touchdown.”

that was sum deep shit

after listening carefully to ara’s words, jeno came to a conclusion

maybe

just maybe

jeno will take a chance.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone and sends a text.

jeno: can you meet me at neo ice cream later? i have something important to tell you.

y/n: yeah ofc. i’ll see you at 4

he had soccer practice today and for the very first time, jeno was skipping practice, his favorite time. the only time where he’s ever fully confident in his abilities, where his stupid insecurities can’t get to him.

this was more important the temporary self-gratification that jeno gets when he’s able to fly through practice with ease

lee jeno was taking a leap, unsure of where he’ll fall.

today, he’ll shoot his shot. and hopefully, you’ll catch.

1K notes · View notes

shhhhyoursister · 4 years

Text

SHHHHYOURSISTER FIC MASTERPOST (updated 4/13/2020)

hi everyone so this is definitely a super good idea for me to make and will be helpful for people who wanna read my fics, and for me to keep track of all of the random shit i write!!!!! so here we fuckin GOOOO (sorry about how long this is gonna be lmao im gonna try to update it every time i write a fic whoops)

AO3 FICS

david and jonas find a kitten

self indulgent shotgunning fic

abdi and carlos are a little confused (about top surgery) but they got the spirit

david gets MAD when he can’t beat a level of a video game

og hickey fic

hans gives david the talk

random lil soft morning depression fic

(nsfw) just gonna keep it simple and say the 3pt masturbation fic (plus a lil extra)

(nsfw) matteo is an asshole to the boys and david is not happy about it

(nsfw) matteo wakes up and notices that david is naked under the covers

THE CAMP AU (ncu!david backstory)

(nsfw) THE RA!AU

TUMBLR FICS

RANDOM STUFF I WANTED TO WRITE

david gets his top surgery date

(nsfw) david is busy, matteo tries to distract him

davenzi anniversary fic

post-top surgery laura pov

sappy bastard david

proposal pt2 (”wedding”)

davenzi texting

matteo leaves the oven on

“being in a relationship is weird”

eyelash day thing

s3ep10c3 continuation

PROMPTS

prompt: “can you write davenzis first pride??”

prompt: “person a desperately needing to pee/shit but person b is in the shower and there is only one bathroom”

prompt: “you can keep it” (ft. drunk!david)

prompt: “t’s just a ___, nothing to worry about”

prompt: “person a and person b trying to converse while one (or both) of them brushes their teeth”

prompt: “omg please write matteo taking care of drunk david!!!!” (pt2)

prompt: “you came into my room at 4am, to cuddle?” (abdi and matteo) (pt2)

prompt: “can you write write about matteo and david talking about trans stuff?”

prompt: “can you write some dumbass davenzi with a side of brain cell squad for a homie” (ft drunk!matteo)

prompt: “i want you to fight for me” and “angsty davenzi fic please???” (tw: transphobia)

prompt: “could you maybe write about david and matteo cuddling?”

prompt: “something/anything about what a gremlin matteo is and how much david loves him for it??”

prompt: “david walking around shirtless”

prompt: “davenzi dancing”

prompt: “another hickey fic”

prompt: “matteo messing up”

prompt: “david buys matteo flowers”

prompt: “you didnt have to get me anything” (amira and matteo)

prompt: “david and dysphoria”

prompt: “i guess we have something in common”

prompt: “combine your gremlin-ness with matteo”

prompt: “davenzi on one of the first evenings after they've moved in together”

prompt: “ sara and leonies first reaction/confrontation with davenzi

prompt: “kissing or fooling around in the rain”

prompt: “matteo being cold and clingy”

prompt: “ david thinking about how much he loves matteo, them play fighting and making out”

prompt: “talking about having kids”

prompt: “david has a nightmare”

prompt: “david feeling overwhelmed/afraid of how much he loves matteo”

prompt: “ david and matteo getting a pet”

prompt: “a return to the pool for an anniversary with a picnic”

prompt: “ i NEED to hear/read david say “good boy”

prompt: “david is having a really shitty day but he knows matteo will make it better”

prompt: “please dont cry” (parent!davenzi)

(nsfw) prompt: “i think that’s the first time i’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.”

(nsfw) prompt: “just let me finish this and i swear ill go down on you until you come at least three times.”

prompt: “are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

prompt: “take off your clothes”

prompt: “david grabbing matteo's face to kiss him”

prompt: “you ever think about david drawing on matteos back”

prompt: “aloof”

prompt: “hickey anon, matteo waking up with lots of hickies”

prompt: “david trying to worm his way into cuddling matteo while he’s playing a video game”

prompt: “pool”

prompt: “mask”

prompt: “hold”; “discussing trans things”

prompt: “hands”

prompt: “storm”

prompt: “almost kiss but established relationship”

prompt: “david having a bad day and matteo getting him to talk about it and trans angst”

prompt: “shotgunning”

prompt: “I’m gonna strangle you.” “Is that a promise?”

prompt: “Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

prompt: “There’s people here.” “I know.”

prompt: “more gremlin matteo”

prompt: “david swooning over matteo”

prompt: “trophy (camp!au)”

prompt: “tease”

prompt: “compromise”

prompt: “sensual (ra!au)”

(nsfw) prompt: “david wakes matteo up with a blowjob”

prompt: “david subtly checking matteo out”

prompt: “david is annoyed because his alone time with Matteo gets disturbed”

HCs

(nsfw) prompt: “thank you for coming”

(nsfw) prompt: “matteo being baby and david being VERY top”

prompt: “can you expand on matteo being a baby when hes sick”

prompt: “you came into my room at 4am, to cuddle?” (davenzi)

prompt: “more of david and matteo talking about trans stuff”

(nsfw) prompt: “david begging matteo to do something”

prompt: “davenzi making out”

(nsfw) prompt: “can you elaborate on the humiliation/degradation stuff??”

prompt: “davenzi hcs”

(nsfw) prompt: “matteo’s praise!kink”

matteo complimenting david

“matteo.....are you vaping????”

prompt: “what davenzi's been doing since s4 ended”

prompt: “matteo and depression (davids pov)”

prompt: “when do you think matteo is the most needy?”

prompt: “do you think matteo knows he’s a twink?”

prompt: “showtime”

prompt: “numb”

prompt: “cuddle clingy david”

prompt: “plant”

prompt: “appearance hcs”

prompt: “romantic hcs”

prompt: “sleeping hcs”

prompt: “likes/dislikes hcs”

short sweet new years thing

david loving matteo’s clinginess

matteo thinking about vampires at night

autistic matteo

matteo and stimming

matteo cant find the sweater he wants to wear

matteo stimming to music

matteo and david’s hair

prompt: “david had a bad day, matteo annoys him”

mouth to mouth

prompt: “muse”; “believe”

david wants to smoke

david complimenting matteo

matteo sees a kid at the store

prompt: “some autistic matteo hcs”

#fic masterpost #davenzi fic #davenzi fanfic #druck fic #druck fanfic #davenzi #david schreibner #matteo florenzi #wow ive written SO MUCH #thats so fucking crazy to look at #holy shit #thats all stuff my brain did!!!!!

220 notes · View notes

hey-hamlet · 5 years

Text

BNHA AU Ideas : Shins-bro

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: Izuku and Shinso are best buds. Thats it.

shinsou has a terrible mum and he's complaining about it "ironically"

like : "lmao my mum is gonna beat my ass for this shitty mark" and he's shocked when izuku is like 3 seconds away from tears

izuku drags shinso to his house and his mum is home and shinso is Spooked bc,, adult?? friends???

hes so scared that inkos gonna yell at him for doing something stupid but as soon as he walks in the door izuku trips over his own feet taking off his shoes and tackle hugs his mum

so izuku and inko are laughing and like, half-fallen over bc izuku is a chunky boy and shinso is so lost??? at the door and inko uses her quirk to pull him over by the shirt and join in the hug

udhihdsf she!!! picks both of them up and squishes these good heroes in the best mother hug

izuku is laughing and shinso is sh o o k bc this is the nicest hug he's ever had???

inko puts them both down and flushes a little, says sorry for hugging shinso but she hasn't seen her boy in so long! and he must be a lovely young man if he's friends with izuku

she bustles off to go stir dinner on the stove and izuku just grins and looks at shinso

"isn't my mum great?!"

",,,yeah"

he and shinso go to his room and izuku pulls out his old console

admits he used to make his mum play this fighting game over n over when he was little, and that she always used to pick this female hero with a big white cape because she liked her hair. he giggles and tells shinso that if he wants izuku can maybbbeee let him play allmight

he picks endeavour for a sec and asks shinso if je just wants to beat up endeavour for a minute before they really start

it turns into them setting like 6 AI to level 9 endeavours and them both playing allmight to beat the crap out of them

inko walks in w tea and little cakes she made and gasps happily bc she loved that game! so they restart the round with 2 allmights + 1 nana plus all the endeavour AI

izuku and shinso keep protecting inko's character from all the fire bc she doesn't deserve this

izuku shoves a cupcake into shinsou's mouth when he goes to ask izuku something

shinsou like, lights up bc he's never had home-baked stuff before and its sooooo good so he just kind melodramatic puts his controller down and says "i guess this is kamino ward 2.0" as all might gets crispy fried by the AI and shoves the cupcake into his face

izuku c a ck l e s

izuku and inko, melodramatically "we can't let allmight 1 fall!! protect him!!!" and they try to save this idle allmight as shinso watches w icing on his face

inko and izuku save idle allmight and shinso cheers softly. inko shoves a cupcake into hers and izuku's faces and hands another to shinso in celebration

she then ducks out to go take care of the dinner again. izuku giggles and puts dollop of icing on shinsos nose, who sneezes then looks offended that his nose dared to sneeze

shinso tries to lick the icing off he nose

but like

it's not working

and izuku is losing it laughing but shinso is stubborn and won't stop just bc what he's doing is v stupid. they end up w shinso's legs on izuku’s bed w his back on the floor, izuku leaning against the bed. shinso isn't really sure why he thought this was a good idea

and they run through English homework and shinso and izuku are both shockingly good and both refuse to admit its bc they spend too much time on tumblr/youtube

shinsou: gee izuku why are u so good at english

izuku, who has been reading self insert all might x reader fics for like 50% of his life: no reason :)))

fdguhdfghufh shinsou, who has been reading angsty fics of all his faves instead of going to therapy: wow same ,,,

also im sorry but, izuku def reads allmight self insert that isn't like "uwu dating you" but its like "what if allmight was ur best friend" or "allmight is your secret dad??? uwu"

u know all those old ass watt pad fics where one direction adopts u, that but all might and all the chapters are just

all might tucks u into bed after a hard school day and tells you he’s proud of you

all might fucking detroit smashes ur class bully into the concrete

u and all might attend the premiere of his latest docuseries and u cry bc there’s a whole preface abt how u changed his life for the better and he could not ask for a better child

izuku and shinso go through their old tumblr/wattpad/deviantart accounts and cry laugh

its all in terrible english and one of the comments is "are you 10 or can you just not speak english"

6 years later, izuku responds

"both, actually"

izuku writing vent fics but they’re like

“all might punches my classmate bc he stole my fuckign apple juice kacchan i hate u”

"all might tells me i don't need my fuckign dad i haven't seen since i was 4 and he becomes my new dad"

“all might tells me i have no bedtime and makes my mom dinner bc she’s stressed and she needs a nap”

"all might adopts me and marries my mum and has a kid who becomes my brother and best friend"

he wrote them all between 6-12 he started writing better shit when he was 12 and made a new account (better, not good.)

his first round of fics were like all in first person and shinsou’s w h e e z i n g like why’d u think this was a good idea. izuku s cryign bc hE WAS SIX HITOSHI STOP IT. its like really terrible english too

izuku is mad but then he realizes he was hitoshi's deviantart open and he g r i n s (its all shitty drawings of cats and his OC Hero ) there are like twenty pictures of his actual cat taken on a shoddy ds camera

also as like, a soft dumb thing izuku is like speed typing on his laptop and shinsou is like??

izuku shushes him n tells him he wants to finish it before dinner

what hes done

is he wrote one of the shitty self insert fics, intentionally shittily but w allmight as izukus dad and eraserhead and shinsous and they live together for no reason at the "hero apartments" and can be brothers

shinso is laughing and crying at the same time and izuku is like

",,,, im gonna send it to present mic"

"nO"

"do you think ill get extra credit?"

"nO DOnT DO IT"

izuku in retaliation sending in some of shinsou’s oldass oc comics and mics just

“i mean

it’s in english,,,”

they get extra credit but it's not really helpful bc they both had As now they both have A plus' but dont wan them

(mic sends it to all might and eraserhead but like, redacts shinso and izukus names and aizawa is twitching w either rage or laughter, all might is bright red and giggling like an idiot)

pls the teachers gc is just “all might and eraserhead tuck u in and call u a Good Boy” for the next three months

as a running joke, whenever they can, that's what izuku and shinso write for English

like in german we had to write plays and act out little skits in german. in english, they do that but like, izuku is eraserhead and shinso is a cat stuck in a tree

they have to write sentences w different words? and they get "comfort" "rescue" and "light" and its all shit like

"my dad eraserhead rescued me from homework because mic is terrible"

"all might's fatherly love lights up the hole in my heart"

"the fatherly aura of allmight and eraserhead brings me comfort on my darkest days"

izuku gives the ol puppy dog eyes to aizawa who begrudgingly lets them sleep over at inko's house

and there is only one bed! and they cant decide who gets it

neither of them sleep in it and they both stubbornly lay on the floor. it takes like 5 seconds for them to start laughing

#bnha au #bnha #shinsbro au #shindeku #mostly platonic but w/e #shinsou hitoshi #Shinsou #midoriya izuku #Izuku #Midoriya #eraserhead #aizawa shouta #midoriya inko #present mic #All Might

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dyxnamicart · 5 years

Text

my stupid highschool oneshot thing

look im not a writer, (I used to be when I was fourteen, haven’t done it since then so ya know, you dont use it you lose it lmao)

Anyways this has been highly requested that I post it, im a bit mad because its not exactly how I wish their dynamic was, I’m not great at writing banter (or anything i’m an artist now plewse) but ya know Also DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of fiction, it in no way reflects real life Dan and Phil (In fact my au switches up their personalities a fair bit) and do not tag them okAY P E O P L E They dont wanna see it and I dont want them to see it (Even if this isnt a particularly shippy piece lmao people are getting very angsty as of late) I also don’t have an editor so sorry for any mistakes Anyway here ya go heathens

Dan didn’t notice the opposing teams jock barrelling towards him, not until his leg had swept under his own, causing him to fly through the air, ball no longer in his possession.

In fact it all flew by in a matter of seconds. Dan didn’t really have time to process exactly what was happening until he felt the shock of pain that travelled up his wrist and down his arm as he landed heavily onto it, crying out as he rolled once or twice before coming to a stop… He couldn’t really tell. There was a whistle blow, but the bustling around him seemed dull in comparison to the loudness of the pain in his wrist.

He hissed as he was righted, pulled up and put steadily on his feet, being ushered to the benches, it only felt like five minutes before the game was back on course, bar Dan to be left on the sides, a few claps on the back from his teammates as he let his head come down from the spinning it was doing.

The nurse on staff did a pretty shoddy job of bandaging, but to her credit she did ask if he wanted an ambulance. If his dad knew an ambulance was called because he hurt his wrist... he didn’t even want to imagine the searing look of disappointment he would receive.

So he just declined.

The game was one of the final ones of the season, they were playing against the local private school, which had a surprisingly amount of suspiciously beefed up kids, though with private school money Dan wasn’t surprised they probably had some ins with the law and extra ‘help’.

He really wanted to play in the final, in fact his coach had even been considering him for the team, not that Dan was amazing at football, but he wasn’t the worst. He was passable at best, probably why his parents weren’t here right now to witness the semi, something he supposes he should be counting his lucky stars for now he had an injury as mediocre as a sprained wrist, but now there was a nagging pull in his gut of his own disappointment.

He waited out the game on the bench, figuring he should at least be there for his team for the results, even with a sprained wrist he didn’t want to run away without at least talking to a few of his mates afterwards.

Phil didn’t see the tumble.

He was perched up in the bleachers, trying to ignore the way the mild and darkening sky had began to stew whipping winds that tore right through the threads in his sweater, by sketching insurmountable things he could see.

He didn’t usually go to games, not only was it not his scene, but he would either end up insanely bored or find his eyes following Dan Howell’s god damn limber body. But this was the semis, and he totally wasn’t here to occasionally glance at a certain panting number 91, he at least wanted to show his support for the school. It wasn’t his fault this game was boring and his sketchbook looked far more inviting.

He only looked up when there was a big murmur and gasps coming from the crowd around him, and he couldn’t see who it was at first, but there was a boy sprawled on the ground.

It didn’t take long to figure out it was Dan, and his eyebrows furrowed deeply, closing his sketchbook and shoving it into his bag. He ended up walking down a few rows in the bleachers, just trying to see if the daft idiot was okay, and he sat down again much closer. The nurse did an awful job at bandaging his hand, he could see that from here, and he would have to fix it after the game. Well.. he didn’t have to, of course, but he figured Howell was too much of an airhead to fix it properly and as much as the other grated on him he at least wanted him to be comfortable.

When it came to the end of the game, Phil’s school lost, and there was a brief celebration for the other school as they paraded off the field, while Dan’s team just huddled around to talk to the coach and then walk to the locker rooms, obviously trying to act casual even if they had essentially just been eliminated from the finals.

Looking around, a lot of the families and students were milling out, many of them disappointed by the outcome of the game.

This was their star team, and there had been a surprisingly large turnout for the event, to have it all end this anticlimactically felt a bit wrong, if he was being honest, even if sports definitely weren’t his thing.

Phil headed down towards the locker rooms, some of the boys were already heading out, chatting and bumping into each other as they walked. Boys were talking, over half of them shirtless. He tried to avoid looking at them, while Phil had come to terms with his sexuality internally, he wasn’t out to his school, despite the obvious digs lots of the jocks and ‘cool kids’ would make. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

Dan hadn’t noticed him, he was sitting on a bench and chatting to a teammate, but some of the boys closer to the entrance had.

“Ay! It’s Danny’s little bitch, what’s new Lester?” A boy Phil knew as Jason laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him.

Phil grunted, and shoved him off. “I’m not anyone’s bitch. Especially not Howell’s.”

There was an ‘oo’ that rippled through the boys, and it was safe to say that Dan had noticed him. He furrowed his eyebrows, and stood up.

“A teacher told me to help Dan.. carry his stuff with his hand like that.” He faltered off, because that half baked excuse really did make him sound like someone’s bitch. But by this point people were beginning to lose interest and ended up either packing up to leave or going back to chatting amongst themselves about a hot girl or something Phil honestly couldn’t care less about.

Phil walked towards Dan, throwing on a mastered look of indifference and annoyance.

“What are you doing back here?” The brunette sighed deeply, running his good hand through his hair. “As if I don’t already get clowned on enough from seeing you during actual school hours.” He said dryly.

Phil rolled his eyes. “I saw that sad excuse for a nurse ‘wrap’ your hand. I’ve seen children under the age of 4 wrap toilet paper around themselves better.”

Dan groaned as he fell back to his sitting position on the bench. “Good deed Lester huh? You aren’t a guardian angel you know.”

“Are you going to turn down actual help with that wrist, Howell. Seriously.” He dropped his bag on the ground, and knelt down, ignoring the few whistles he got from the people still in the room.

Dan rolled his eyes as he looked down at Phil, arched eyebrow and holding his injured wrist with his hand, like he didn’t trust him. “Fine.” He sighed, setting his hand down on his leg, looking down at Phil with a suspicious and unless he was imagining it, flushed face.

Phil carefully lifted the brunettes injured hand, frowning at the small pang of guilt he felt when Dan hissed in a sharp breath, quiet, as if being a little louder would shatter his reputation in one fell swoop.

By now the locker room had basically emptied out, Dan’s mates sauntered away, hefting their heavy gym bags over their shoulders as their voices echoed down the hallway and slowly faded into the cool night air.

Dan and Phil sat in silence for a few moments as Phil examined the bandage. Dan seemed to relax a little, and he allowed the feeling of calm to wash over them now there was no eyes examining their every move. The indifference and hostility seemed to drain from the air.

He didn’t know if it was the late night game or the lack of people, but he felt as though he was back before highschool, back before their fall out. Before their life became a series of quips and tension seeping into the fond memories he once had for the boy in front of him.

“Why do you play, when you end up hurting yourself like this?” His question was genuine, none of the concealed fire that was usually behind his voice when he talked to Dan.

Phil used his other hand to unroll the bandage. He had seen the first aid kit it came from, the contents being the single bandage, two band aids and a single cotton swab. Not the most ideal for a sport like this, hands on and physical, but their school wasn’t really known for their state of the art resources.

Dan looked unsure of whether or not he should give a witty response or answer seriously. In the end he seemed too exhausted to spit out a clever one liner. So he opted for the truth.

“I don’t know..” Dan huffed a breath out of his nose, like he was out of practice with talking about his emotions. “The guys are cool.. people like a jock you know?” He pauses for a moment, like he was struggling with whether or not he wanted to continue. “And I kind of want my dad to be proud of me? You know my dad. I want him to think.. I’m one of the lads. One of the boys.. not a royal screw up son.” He snorted, good hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to play off his words as ridiculous.

But Phil didn’t laugh.

“Proud of you?” He repeated, slightly quieter as he slowly started to wind the bandage around Dan’s stiff wrist.

Dan shrugged, looking away and seemingly focusing on a spot far across the room, like he was trying to be anywhere but here, talking to a friend who had been distanced by time and change.

But Phil remembers, he remembers his curly brown hair bouncing around when he was excited, when he was jumping around playing cops and robbers, he remembers his loud and boisterous laugh and the way his cheeks dimpled and filled with colour. He remembers a time when he knew the boy in front of him more then he knew anyone in the world. When he thought Dan was his forever friend and that nothing would ever change that.

Guess something changed.

“You know I’m proud of you,” He continued, not looking up from bandaging. He could feel Dan’s eyes on him now, he could feel the incredulous and doubtful eyes bore into his skin, see into his soul. He didn’t seem to have expected an actual answer in response. “I’m proud of you when I see you play piano. When I see your eyes light up and when you lose yourself in the keys. When you recite dumb Shakespearen poetry and when you are on stage commanding the spotlight, when the only person who matters is you. That’s what I’m proud of. That’s what makes me think, THIS is Dan Howell. THIS is who he is meant to be. Not a shallow jock with a sharp tongue and attitude. I’m proud of the real you.”

He clipped the bandage pin on the end of the roll, now safely locked on Dan’s wrist, and he went to pull his hand away but was stopped by a hand placed over his.

Dan’s eyes were how he remembered, not in way they were for the past two years, glazed over as he tried to cram his way into a puzzle he didn’t fit into, but filled with an unfathomable tenderness and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on

They didn’t need to exchange words, the soft smile Dan gave him spoke a thousand words, making up for time that felt lost before now.

He stood up, finally dropping Phil’s hand and grabbing his jacket off the bench. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Their silence was welcoming as they walked down the hall towards the exit. The last few years had been full of quips and jabs, fast insults and banter that sometimes toed the line as not quite friendly. This silence, it was new, but it felt right. Dan couldn’t quite understand, but there was a shift that felt comfortable.

Dan had known Phil a long time, longer then anyone in this god forsaken school. He was quiet and reserved and he enjoyed painting and drawing. He was creative, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. He was unapologetically himself, and that was something that he only wished he could be.

For the longest time it was him and Phil. Dan and Phil against the world, playing Mario cart and watching shitty movies, always at each other’s houses like they belonged together.

Then high school happened.

The desire to fit in hit Dan like a ton of bricks. While Phil was content to remain a Mario kart loving geek, Dan couldn’t stand being the butt of the joke. He couldn’t stand his dad being disappointed whenever he brought Phil home to do something nerdy. As the years went by it became a sort of crutch for him and Phil to make snide remarks at each other as they passed in the halls, glaring across the halls and that’s how it stayed.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved to see Phil riled up. He loved to see his eyebrows furrow together and his eyes roll. His arms crossed and his posture unimpressed. If anything that was his favourite part, the way his voice flooded with heat and passion, as he stared at him with the intensity of a bonfire. He loved to tease him and play his surprisingly short temper like a fiddle.

But he wasn’t attracted to him. No way. Phil wasn’t a pretty girl. He did NOT find his eyes pretty and the way his hair sometimes fell into his eyes and his hands didn’t itch to run his hands through it.

He was straight. He had to be.

His heart dropped a little, and he couldn’t explain why, but he looked over at Phil, who was walking beside him.

They were outside now, and it was raining, not too heavily but enough to get you fairly wet. Despite the fact Phil was wearing a sweater and long overalls, he could see him shiver, the fabric of the sweater probably allowed the biting wind to nip tight through it.

He shrugged off his jacket, and gently wrapped it around Phil’s shoulders, forcing them to stop momentarily. The street light cast a soft light over them, and his eyes met the other boys, and for a moment they stared at each other, Dan watching as raindrop followed the contours of Phil’s face, a drop following his cheekbone and the slope of his jaw.

He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again as he started walking. “Okay okay, lets get you home, Lester.”

“Are you sure you aren’t cold?” Phil enquires inquisitively as he sped walked a bit to catch up with him.

He shrugged. “Still running on adrenaline I guess.” It was a lie, he was slightly cold. But it felt right, and he continued to walk with him in silence.

Phil was holding the jacket around himself as they approached his house, and they stopped just under the porch, the light flickering on to illuminate his face.

Dan stuffed his good hand in his pocket, and he clicked his tongue as Phil went to shrug off the jacket to give back. “Nah, wash it first, don’t want your nerd germs on my clothes.” Despite the insult, he found himself smiling warmly, and Phil too just chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you on Monday or something, Howell.”

Dan saluted as he turned to walk away, and he could feel Phil staring through his back as he walked back into the rain. They were only a street apart, but he knew that was going to be one long walk.

#mine #stick to drawing Hayley u idiot #ur right i should #but this only spawned at like 2am so im sorry #highschool au

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superrcell · 4 years

Note

clara!! or teru mobbedpsycho

omg hehe ill do both bc i love them both so much : )

clara!

How I feel about this character

oh my god, i LOVE her? i love her so much. literally my favorite healer. her route is literally the best.

its just like. shes SO fun. shes so weird and shes so funny and i just love love love how shes written. i love that in the beginning of her own route shes like.. literally Just a little girl. like getting worried bc she told the first lie in her life ,,, its just like shes so cute. i love her and shes soooo funny oh my god. i love love love how through her route she becomes more confident with herself and her path, it seems... just like everything is so good about her.

i love her place in the game as well... shes the youngest, definitely the one who you’d probably trust the least to do a good job, and just so ... she’s so weird! i love that she is the character who becomes the sort of meta character, where the developers Know you’ve gone thru everything twice, we’re now just going to let her know all you need. plus, i fucking LOVE her powers with the hook - thats a trope i just love so much...

i love her black and white mentality? its just so interesting... i love how the world warps in her route, where people are especially evil, or are especially good. and i love. i LOVE that she’s put with all of the humbles... like i just love everything about her SO much ...

All the people I ship romantically with this character

oh, as ive said: grace!! i find their relationship incredibly cute, especially with how clara says how much she likes her in her route... plus! weird (graveyard) girls unite :) idk, i just feel like they complement each other very well, and would understand each other very well! its very cute!

to a much lesser degree, i also find capella and clara cute, but i dont have quite as many thoughts on it.

My non-romantic OTP for this character (im just interpreting this as other relationships i find interesting)

omg, so many, um ,,,

firstly, the saburovs! i think more about katerina just because of who i am, but i love thinking of if they were like . . . an actually good family. idk, its just like if the saburovs weren’t In That Situation... maybe, just maybe they would be better? they obviously care about clara very very much, as shown in those first few days... idk, i just love the idea of good families 😔

secondly, like almost every relationship she has with the humbles, or what potential relationship she’ll have in p2 now that some of them have been reworked. i cant go through the whole list because ill be here all day, but especially rubin and her relationship; the connection she has with aspity; im interested in how the others will be reworked and how they’ll interact with clara just... ayugh i love all of the humbles so much!

thirdly, um. okay not to be a termite stan but thinking of her relationship with some of the termites is super interesting... in particular, as ive said, grace and her seem like they could very well be very good friends if not gfs, and sticky! theyre both thieves ... i feel like it can be very interesting, though i doubt they would be really close hsdjkgjk still! i just love thinking of her potential relationship with the other kids.

fourthly, also aglaya because of her connection with clara, with knowing. Everything about their world is so interesting. plus, just how aglaya treats her is so... interesting? shes just SO different in clara’s route, its so interesting...

and lastly, as i said: her relationship with block! i dont have too many thoughts, but i find his care for her very very interesting and sweet... im interested in how their relationship will be expanded upon in her route!

wait no im still adding things: her relationship with the albino! idk i just find her relationship with the creature of the steppe so sweet... its just like the bond between them its just so nice and it makes me so 💖thinking about it in her route...

My unpopular opinion about this character

clara best healer! clara’s route is the best! i hate it when people only use her for their daniil/artemiy ship shit! she doesnt give a shit about them! stop pushing her off to the side! her route is unfinished, yes, thats really only the side quests from day 8 on! the main quest is always different! just play her route! shes not just some weird person who only speaks in metaphors, shes also a little girl! i love clara very much!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

oh, hmm... her route to be finished, and actually full of details? ghdsjkgj really though, i remember people saying that they might go for a genre shift with the other two routes in p2, and i think her’s being more horror would be SO cool... i also hope that we can hug people in her route as well, oh my god. oh my god. please let me hug the saburovs.

-------

teruki!

How I feel about this character

i LOVE teru! hes absolutely, 100%, completely my favorite mp100 character. hes such a huge comfort character to me as well its just like i looveee his character. hes so SO funny and hes so dumb but also hes like SO smart and. hes SOOOO smart and i just can relate to him a lot! who am i but a constant string of “oh yeah im very smart and i can do this amazingly” and then almost immediately being followed by someone showing me up,

plus, i feel like hes just my favorite character archetype. its just like! i am such a huuugeeee fan of characters showing off and trying to act big but are hiding behind a ton of insecurities. or well, maybe not quite hiding behind them, but having a lot of them. after all i think teru truly is just Like That, though his actions in his arc were heavily motivated by these insecurities... idk i just love him so much. hes just really relatable to me in some aspects and in all others i just find so fun. hes such a great character!

All the people I ship romantically with this character

oh, mob ofc! i dont think about the ship all that much, but i think its rlly cute, and i definitely feel like teru has a lot of love in his heart for mob! its rlly nice and can be very sweet c:

My non-romantic OTP for this character (im just interpreting this as other relationships i find interesting)

mob! once again i just think their friendship is just really nice, and i love how much teru cares for mob! plus theyre so funny gdhksjjg idk theyre just a fun team!! i love them!! i dont have many other thoughts, as i feel like their relationship is explored constantly, and i dont have many new thoughts to bring to the table. i just love it when their shown in a fun light c:

also, now idk if ive ever given this vibe off but, i LOVE found families, so i looveeee love love the au where reigen and serizawa take in shou, tome, and teru! like even outside of the au, i feel like a friendship with shou would be so nice? its just like the shared familial issues 😔plus i think theyd be hilarious together. no matter what i see them as having a more brotherly relationship! i like especially thinking about them playing games together, and same with tome! which like tome, oh my god i feel like theyd be so fun together and just the thought of them as siblings sounds like it could very very easily go badly because of clashing personalities but idk... i just feel like it could also be really nice and fun :) i love thinking about the sibling relationships in mp100 so much because theyre all just so fun characters and it feels like it can always result in such a fun and not like... angsty atmosphere. like i can just see them as being actual siblings, and its nice!

also, reigen ofc! i mentioned that i like the idea of reigen taking him in, though i think reigen might not be a . . . great parental figure. but i just really like the found familyness of it... plus, okay, this is going to be obvious since im such a teru stan, but the one omake where reigen takes them all out for a “client” but it just is reigen trying to give them all a fun summer day because teru mentioned how his family doesnt ever really see him... oh my god its about That. just an adult figure caring for teru makes me happy and thats why i love their relationship so much.

also, i have much less thoughts about this (or at least now i do), but the idea of teru and ritsu being friends sounds so funny. like i dont have many thoughts on it; its all mainly this comic on them

My unpopular opinion about this character

hmmm, i think all of my opinions are echoed by the people in my corner of the fandom, but one i can think of is like just about Every take on his fashion sense is so cold, besides the one thats like “hes a rich teenager living on his own and thats why his fashion sense is like that.” like he obviously cares about his own appearance, but aahkdshjkg i dont think its like so much as so many people put on him. also for the love of god focus on his other interests other than fashion for once,

idk, i think most of my opinions boil down to “i dont like what hes been reduced to/what the fandom always focuses on for him.”

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

oh, hm! i wish they hadnt cut out the one scene in s2 (around the beginning of the world domination arc, at teru’s apartment) where teru basically shows off his powers and how much hes grown and knows... i get Why they cut it out, but, as far as i remember, its such a good part of his character i wish they had kept in!

i also hope that they add a little extra of him in s3 since i feel like they will have more time left over ... 👉👈

send me a character :)

#txt #patho #oh my god this is so long. i hope the read more works #thank u SO much!!! i love both of these characters it was so much fun answering this!#Anonymous

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really-sleep-deprived-nerd · 5 years

Text

Sanders Sides Percy Jackson AU!

SO! @moon-scribs and I have been working on this one for a while and we hope you like it!

BASICS:

Logan is a child of Athena

Roman is a child of Apollo (The very extra son of a very extra god)

Remy is a child of Hypnos (Hypnos is the god of sleep)

Virge is a child of Aphrodite and Patton is a child of Hades (Bare with us for a second, we´ll tell WHY we did this below the cut)

Emile is a child of Epiope (The goddess of the soothing of pain)

Deceit Damian is a child of Hermes (Hermes is, among other things, the god of deception)

Thomas is a child of Iris (Y´know, the goddess of the Rainbow)

More about this under the cut! (Warning: Its ridiculously LONG)

Child-of-Aphrodite! Virgil

When deciding upon which god he should be the child of, we mainly thought about how he was before pre-acepting anxiety, how he felt like “The odd-one out”, how he felt like he “didnt belong here”. See where we are going with this?.

Virgil is supposed to be the child of the goddess of beauty, but he honestly cant see it. He is way too pale. Way too lanky. His hair is too messy. He has eyebags that are bigger than his fist. He isnt “pretty”.

His siblings arent helping with that either: They are incredible extroverted people, they actually care about their appearance, about trivial things like make up and clothes, they are known to be extremelly social, their fucking cabin its mOTHERFUCKING BARBIE MANSION PINK AND ALL.

He doesnt fit with them, sure, he can get along with most of them just fine, but he still feels wrong.

He has charmspeak, but he doesn't knows how to use/control it and its also heavily influenced by his emotions, so when he's really stressed out it activates, mostly to keep his friends out of danger. (Its basically like his canon anxiety demon voice, it can influence them like that scene where v's like 'GET RID OF THE PHONE NOW' and Thomas just throws it without thinking )

His first days on camp were pretty rough, and he was thinking of running away, that is, until he met a very cheerful son of Hades.

Child-Of-Hades! Patton

Patton “Hellhounds are just misunderstoods puppies!” Medina

Patton “Oh that kid looks sad and lonely and uncomfortable Im going tO BEFRIEND HIM” Medina

All the hellhounds just become big puppies around him, he has a tiny army of Cat-skeletons and dog-skeletons following him everywhere that are always either playing with him or trying to get pets of him.

Since there is literally just one other kid of hades in the cabin most of the bunks are empty so one of them becomes the Cave(tm) of Patton´s bony friends (Its just a bunch skele-pets under a blanket)

Also one of the bunks is reseved for Virge, since sleeping in a pink barbie mansion surrounded by SO MANY PEOPLE made him incredible anxious. And Patton could not let his precious friend and crush suffer! He has already went through enough!

One of the funniest things to Virgil its the fact that the Hades cabin looks like where vampires would live and then BOOM SUNSHINE BOY

Patton´s Brother: ugh it's too early to-is that the sun??? I thought there were no windows here???

Virge: No, that's Patton

He is the first one to discover that, despite Virgil not believing it, Virge is actually FUCKING gorgeous. Like, one day he makes Virgil giggle and Patton feels as his heart might burst: Virgil´s hair was messy and fluffy and it kinda covered his eyes, but you could see them sparkle with amusement and he had this tiny and kinda shy smile and all that Patton could think was: “goDS ABOVE IM TOO GAY TO FUNCTION- HELP”

Despite his sushiney attitude, lets not forget that, as a child of Hades, Patton is actually fucking powerful, and will not hesitate to absolutly destroy whatever and whoever tries to hurt his fami-friends and his home

Child-Of-Apollo! Roman

You know how Percy´s sword turns into a pen? Yeah, Roman´s katana turns into a golden and silver hairbrush.

Was sent to camp since he was really young and trained in hand to hand combat until he became the best.

Has an enthralling voice and incredible acting skills and he can dance like the muses, but cant shoot straight to save his life (Pun not intended lol) and if he tried to heal a paper cut it would probably get infected .

Loves the camp dearly, but he misses his family a lot so he Iris-calls them every saturday

Child-Of-Athena! Logan

Hands down the best strategist in the whole camp.

Cant do hand-to-hand combat to save his LIFE, but he is amazing with long distance weapons. Bow and Arrow? Logan will pull a hawkeye shit where he NEVER fails. He is good at making traps, like, he studies what surrounds him and can make a scooby-doo-like trap with branches and shit he found laying there. People do not Fuck with him during capture the flag.

You know how Athena´s kids are all terrified of spiders, right? Welp. Logan has a Patton-level fear of spiders.

“Pardon my crude language, but I don't fuck with those tiny ass demons”

Child-Of-Hermes! Damian

“You, my child, are amazing, but you have the moral of a chocolate muffin”- Thomas, to him, after spending 15 minutes alone together.

Will 100% fuck shit up, not in a “IM EVIL FEAR ME” way, but more in a “Remember my father is also the god of pranksters do not fuck with me Virgil”

Has definitely not pranked Roman and Virgil and had to unceremoniously hide in a tree top so this two would not murder him in the time it took for Emile and Pat to calm them down

Child-Of-Hypnos! Remy

He is a child of hypnos, and as such, drinks unhealthy amounts of coffee so he can stay awake.

He can make everyone he wishes fall asleep instantly just by touching them and he can make it last as long as he wishes (More than 4 hs per person tires him tho)

He doesnt have an ounce of common sense in his whole body and Emile still doesnt know how he managed to stay alive for this long.

Child-Of-Epione! Emile

He is not gifted with healing like some childs of Apollo, yet he is able to sooth the pain of others. No, not only as a psychologist (He is not one yet, but he wants to be one when he grows older), but also as an overall comforting presence: He is kind, his voice is calm, he is sweet, patient and emphathic.

One hug from him will not heal all your pain, but will make it hurt less, giving you the strength to keep fighting it for a while.

Really, REALLY not good at fighting.

Cried for a whole day when he learned that the camp has no tv so he couldnt watch any cartoons while he stayed there

He was very lonely growing up as before getting to camp, so he used to watch A LOT of cartoons to keep himself occupied, to avoid feeling alone.

The human mind and emotions never ceases to amaze him.

Child-Of-Iris! Thomas

Thomas started going to camp at a very young age, so he kinda knows everyone.

Despite that fact, he got claimed on the summer after his 15th birthday.

He was walking across the camp towards the Big House to say hi to Chiron when a full on rainbow surrounded him and Iris´s logo started glowing on top of his head. He looked at the rainbow, then he looked down at his “could be gayer” t-shirt and burst out laughing.

He spends only summers on camp, and since he is a bit older than most of the campers, he became a sort of counsellor to new campers whenever he is in camp.

He helps the new ones with training, teaches them how to get around the camp, teaches them how to read in greek and greek history (To them its history, no mythology) if they dont know anything about it.

He is super supportive of every new camper! Like, if they are training and one of the newbies fucks up (Drops his weapon, falls, trips, whatever) he will instantly start going “Its okay!! No one can do this right in their first try!! It took me like a year just to stop sucking at it!! You are trying your best and thats whats important!!”

He gave one look at Virgil´s angsty demeanor, Damian´s snarky attitude, Roman´s fake confidence, Patton´s pattoness, Logan´s insighful and wise opinios, Remy´s complete lack of self preservation and Emile´s internal screaming as he tries to keep the rest of his friends fucking mentally stable and immediatly decided “Im going to adopt them”

While Thomas is an excelent “counsellor” and loves his friends, sometimes he will be watching the other 7 human disasters run around and get into shenanigans and just be like: Those kids are already so fucking weird this might as well happen

Asked to be tagged: @fandoms-till-the-end-of-the-line @thatgaydemigodnerd

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phanlight · 6 years

Text

The Boy on the Blue Moon Dreams of Sun

prompt: dan is a theatre kid who hasn't had his first kiss but has to kiss someone for a show. he doesn't want his first kiss to be wasted so he tries to get it done properly beforehand & he meets phil and w/e you can take it from there!!!

““Tell you what,” Phil leans into him, and Dan can smell his cologne. “We’re gonna come back up here again, okay? And you’re gonna tell me about yourself. Properly, this time.

Dan frowns. “Isn’t that what we’ve spent the past ten minutes doing?”

“Yeah,” Phil says. “The only difference being next time we do this, I’m going to ban you from saying the word ‘acting’. So I can hear about you, the real you, and not whoever you pretend to be for a living.”

GUESS WHICH BITCH IS BACK AND WRITING AGAIN (spoiler: IT ME)

I thought it was about time I branched out a bit and tried my hand at a theatre au. This was so much fun to write (albeit kinda hard as despite being a literature student my Romeo and Juliet knowledge is a little subpar lmao lets hope I at least sort of did it justice tho) and deffo has more than ur daily dosage of angsty teenage actor!dan so look forward to that. thank u to the lovely anon who prompted me with this! (also yes i’m still relying on ptv lyrics for my song titles after 3 years sh)

Also I’m sorry if the writing in this is a lil inconsistent. I started this fic literally over a year ago and abandoned it for ages before finding and continuing it again. The first half was written in literally like mid 2016 (from which point my writing has obv improved a lot) and since then I’ve been working on it sporadically so if it feels like halfway through my writing style suddenly changes then that’s why OOPS soz

This was not supposed to be this long im so sorry wtf 13k ??? fuks sake

It’s the first time Dan’s ever been pissed off with being cast a lead role in a play.

He usually loves it – he loves the attention, loves having a ripped up script full of highlighted lines and more soliloquies to memorise than he can even keep count of. He shines under the warmth of the spotlight, lapping up the attention like a hungry cat, and when the applause ripples throughout the audience at the end, he can’t get enough of the sound.

It’s just- well, there’s one problem with his part.

It’s nothing he has against Romeo, not necessarily, and the piece itself is okay – Dan’s copy of the popular play in question is already crumpled with annotations; small post-it notes spilling fluorescent colours out of every crease (studying English literature alongside Drama always comes in handy as far as Shakespeare is concerned) and Romeo has a decent amount to say.

The problem is, he’s going to have to kiss someone.

Dan Howell, the one who snaps up almost every single role he auditions for, the one with a clay personality that can be moulded perfectly into whatever role he’s going for next, the one who lives the stage and breathes the lights, who was once described as ‘the heart and soul’ of the local theatre, is going to have to kiss someone.

And believe it or not, Dan Howell, the same seventeen-year-old who breezes through auditions leaving a flutter of girls at his feet, the same guy who was once rumoured to have made out with three people at the Les Miserables afterparty and the same guy who once had to reject two people in one night, has never actually kissed anyone before. Not properly, anyway.

Granted, he’s been extremely close to it a fair few times – having been in and out of auditions and callbacks since the age of about five, he’s come into contact with a considerable number of roles that involve love interests; only last month was his character Eddie supposed to kiss the love of his life, Alexandra, in the back of a car at a drive-in cinema. It was a play that one of the drama students had written; set in the fifties, all red-and-white ice cream parlours and hand jives and high school dances and Marilyn Monroe posters. Dan had enjoyed playing his part, and not just because it was the only opportunity he’d get to sport a black leather jacket (though he did decide leather looked really quite hot on him after that play. It’s almost a shame he’s vegetarian), but because the minor obstacle could, like every single other time, be solved with a stage kiss. Just a few seconds of his back to the audience, being agonisingly close to someone else’s lips, before pulling away and raking though his mind to try and remember the next line. It’s always worked for him, every time.

Except for this. Because the director, a Lucy Howcroft with a loud voice and a bossy personality, has only gone and booked them the Round at the Old Vic theatre. Which would be fine, of course it would; it’s one of the most popular theatres in the city and the theatre group is going to get a huge reputation for this afterwards, but it’s not so handy as far as stage-kissing is concerned. When you’re being stared at from every angle three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around, there’s no way you can get away with only partially leaning in to kiss.

“Are you sure there’s no way around this?” Dan had insisted when he’d stolen a moment after rehearsal to talk to Lucy. She’d been clearing her desk – a papery mountain range, and had looked a bit too busy to talk, but Dan would rather discuss this with her one-on-one instead of having to voice his feelings with twenty other pairs of eyes staring at him.

“For someone who just bagged yet another lead role, I would’ve thought you’d be a little more gracious than this,” Lucy had muttered, snapping a file shut. “I didn’t have to cast you, y’know.”

“It’s not- I am grateful, you know I am, it’s just-“

“Is there a problem with the casting of Juliet?” she’d offered, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Dan had insisted. “She’s fine.”

“The costume, then?” she’d tried. “I’m not a bloody mind reader, Dan. Help me out a bit here.”

Dan had shut his eyes and taken a deep breath, trying to comb the tangle of words in his head into some kind of coherent sentence.

“I mean- I just- the venue,” he gulped. “It’s- there’s a bit of a problem.”

“What about it?” Lucy sighed, irritation tracing the edges of her tone. “I fail to see what’s so problematic about getting a slot at the Old Vic of all places, but if you have any objections, then do enlighten me.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-“ Dan gulped, not really too sure how far he’s going to get with this. The bitterness already in her tone didn’t sound at all promising. “I don’t know. Do we have to perform in the round?”

“Christ, is performing in one of the most popular theatres in London that much of a chore?”

“No, no, I just-“ he gulped, trying to work out how the hell he’d word this without sounding like a twat. “I’ve never really… you know. Performed in an environment like that before.”

“You’ve been acting for twelve years,” she said bluntly. “I’m sure you have enough experience to be able to deal with a round stage instead of a rectangular one.”

“But- like, isn’t the round meant for- like… you know, Greek plays and shit?”

“It used to be,” she’d said, taking care to apply extra emphasis on the past tense. “Since when were you so hung up on the traditions of theatre, anyway?” she’d added after a pause. “Only last week were you totally in favour of the idea of having a rap battle in the middle of Othello.”

Dan had frowned, because that wasn’t really fair – sure, a rap battle isn’t exactly a common feature of Shakespeare’s plays, but no one could deny that Louis, playing Iago, was pretty good at freestyling whenever a mic was thrown in his direction. Despite not adhering to the conventions of traditional English theatre, it certainly made the play more entertaining.

“It’s just gonna be- you know. It’s gonna take some getting used to,” he’d mumbled instead.

“You have three months to get used to it,” she’d pointed out. “I’m sure you and the rest of the cast will have familiarised yourself with it by the time the production comes around.”

“But- the round is traditionally meant for-“

“Look, if you’re going to get so archaic about it, I can always build a time machine, book the open-air Globe for, like, sometime four-hundred years ago, and you can spend the next three days picking rotten tomatoes out of your hair,” she said. “Does that sound better?”

“They only did that to bad actors,” Dan had pointed out. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“And you know what makes a good actor, Dan?” she retorted. “Flexibility. The willingness to branch out of your comfort zone.”

Dan had sighed. He’s not going to get anywhere with this, is he?

“You know what?” he’d finally shaken his head, defeated. “Forget it.”

She watched him turn on his heel with a raised eyebrow. “See you Tuesday, then? First read-through of the script is at eleven in the morning.”

“See you then,” Dan muttered, not even bothering to turn around.

He let the door slam behind him.

It’s not that Dan doesn’t want to kiss anyone – (quite the contrary, really. He loves the idea of it, loves the thought of someone’s lips pressed up against his, the world slowing down around them and his heart feeling like fire. He’s always tried to incorporate that feeling into his acting, letting his passion leak into every character he’s cast, but when the stage lights are off and the curtain is down, his attraction to his colleagues ends there) – it’s just- well, he doesn’t really think he’s found the right person to share the real experience with, yet. His fellow actors and actresses aren’t unattractive by any means, but he doesn’t look at any of them and find himself struck by the desire to taste their lips and whisper incoherence into their ears like Eddie was supposed to do in the back of that car.

Seventeen, and still hasn’t had his first kiss. Still doesn’t want to waste it, at that.

Pathetic.

Technicians don’t get paid enough, Phil thinks.

He’s spent the day holed up in the trap room, devouring what was left in the back of the fridge (including a half-opened pack of Doritos that tasted like they expired about five years ago) and puzzling over this fucking broken light board that everyone had very kindly left him to take care of. It had already taken him over half an hour to get one of the chunky old Mac laptops up and running again (seriously, who in this day and age is still using an iBook?) and even then it only really half-functions – a handful of keys are missing, the trackpad only ever seems to work when it feels like it, and there’s a huge hairline crack right across the screen. Phil’s spent so long cursing through gritted teeth and smacking the table in frustration every time the damn thing freezes that it wouldn’t come as a surprise if he ended up contributing to those cracks by the end of the day. Maybe that’s how they ended up there in the first place.

“You alright?” the door suddenly opens and a voice – Nick, Phil presumes, breaks the aching silence that the room has been blanketed in for the past four hours. Finally, Phil sighs, feeling a pinch of anger melt away. Human company.

“Been better,” Phil mumbles, popping a couple of grapes into his mouth. Been better, he scoffs to himself. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t been worse.

“Chuck me a coke, will you?” he pulls up a chair and puts his feet on it, perching on the edge of the table. Phil heaves out a sigh – that involves getting up – but musters up enough energy to lean over and yank the fridge open. He tosses him a can, and Nick catches it expertly.

“Nice of you to show up,” Phil rolls his eyes. “Only four hours late this time. That’s an hour and a half off your personal best.”

“They said they didn’t need me here ‘till three,” he protests, popping the can open and taking a few gulps. “They said you had it all under control.”

His sentence is punctuated by a burp. Phil grimaces.

“Under control,” Phil snorts. That’ll be the fucking day.

“What did they leave you here to do?” he frowns.

“Only fix this entire fucking thing,” Phil nods over to the stupid light board. God, he’s sick of the sight of it. “Beats me what’s wrong with it. I’ve only just managed to get this dinosaur up and running,” he gestures to the corpse of a laptop in front of him, “let alone look at that.”

“Fuck me, man,” Nick sighs out a heavy breath. “If I knew, I could have come in earlier to help you out a bit. You should have texted me.”

“It’s fine,” Phil sighs even though- well, it’s not, really. There’s only so many hours of broken technology and out-of-date food one can take. “It’s not your fault,” he adds truthfully.

“They’re twats sometimes, aren’t they?” Nick lowers his voice, despite the fact they’re literally underground here, beneath the earshot of everyone.

“I’ll say,” Phil widens his eyes, trying to click something and- nope, it’s fucking frozen again. “For fuck’s sake. They’re all bloody loaded, too. You would have thought with the money they have, they could fork out a little for equipment that at least half-functions, right?”

“Yup,” Nick sighs. “Guess bookings for overpriced fancy-ass theatres are higher up on their agenda, though.”

Phil can’t argue with that. Apparently they’re going to have to wire up something in the Old Vic, of all places, next week. Phil dreads to think how much hiring that place out for even a few hours is going to cost, let alone booking it for three nights.

Probably more than enough to buy a better fucking laptop.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but-“

“No- no,” Lucy holds up her hand. “Come on, Dan. More emotion than that. You’re telling the love of your life that even the moon is envious of her beauty. At least pretend to put some passion into it.”

Dan rolls his eyes – only the fourth time he’s had to repeat this fucking soliloquy in the past fifteen minutes. He’s pretty sure he’s only one “no, no, it’s too (insert adjective here)” away from giving up with this whole thing altogether. He’d rather have played Benvolio anyway.

“Come on,” Lucy continues. “We’ll take it from Be not her maid…”

Dan shuts his eyes, scrapes up the remaining traces of his sanity, and takes another breath.

“Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!

It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.

Oh, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—

I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they retur-“

“No, no-“ she interrupts him again and for fuck’s sake, at this rate, Dan won’t even need to spend any time in his bedroom going over his lines. He’s pretty sure he’s memorised half of the monologues already just from recapping in rehearsals alone.

“Come on, really feel it,” she pleads. “You can’t say something as romantic as that with a face like yours – you’re literally saying that two stars in the sky have gone away and they’re asking Juliet’s eyes to shine in their place until they return.”

Dan balls his fists, ready to snap back that yes, he’s fully fucking aware of what’s going on in the play thank you very much, in case she hadn’t forgotten he did actually study it for three separate exams and subsequent exposure to the text in question has made him rather familiar with the occurrences currently taking place, but they’re all interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Lucy huffs, mildly irritated.

The door knob jitters, then twists.

“Hiya,” a black-haired boy nods tiredly, pushing through the crack in the door. Dan immediately recognises him – one of the tech guys, he thinks, but he isn’t entirely certain. He’s never really spoken to any of the crew before; they tend to keep well out of the limelight (they’d rather control it instead).

“Everything okay?” Lucy asks, before turning to Dan and Alexandra (his Juliet). “You two, take five. Be ready to take it from the top.”

They both relax and take a seat on one of the upturned wooden boxes. It isn’t until Dan takes the weight off of his legs he realises how much they’ve been aching – fuck, he really needs to get back to that gym.

“Any luck?” she says to Mr. Black-Hair. He’s holding a laptop that looks as if it’s seen better years, never mind days, and a long cord of wire that snakes around his fist.

“Nothing at all,” he sighs, flicking a strand of his fringe out of his eyes. His hair looks as if it hasn’t seen a hairbrush for days, but there’s something about the way it sits shaggily on his head that kind-of suits him (Dan wishes he could pull off messy hair – he only attempted ditching the straighteners once and spent the rest of the day wondering if any birds had mistaken his head for a nest).

He doesn’t realise he’s been staring until he catches the tail end of Alexandra’s sentence and realises he hasn’t actually been listening for the past minute or so.

“What was that, sorry?”

“I asked you how you were finding Romeo so far,” she repeats.

“Hm? Oh yeah, yeah- he’s fine,” Dan says, not taking his eyes off of Mr. Black-Hair. He’s lost the thread of their conversation (he’s no lip reader) but by the looks of it, it seems as if there’s a problem with one of the laptops.

“Are you sure?” Alexandra frowns. Dan looks at her, but his glance is soon pulled back to the technician.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs. “You don’t really- I don’t know, you just don’t seem to be… you know. That into it, y’know?”

“Wait-“ Dan shakes his head, trying to focus on their conversation instead of the one a few metres away from. “Hang on- what? What makes you say that?”

She raises her eyebrows, as if to say ‘really?’. Dan’s expression remains carefully blank.

“Come on, Dan. We wouldn’t have had to repeat this stupid scene like, five times if you were actually into it. I’ve seen you do way better than this.”

“Oh, not you as well,” Dan groans, deflating. He’s pretty sure that exact sentence had fallen from Lucy’s lips not so long ago. He’s sick of hearing it, sick of having to sit and listen to people tell him that he ‘can do way better’ and ask ‘is everything all right, Dan? Nothing bothering you, is there?’ because he’s just ‘not himself’ at the moment.

That’s the most ridiculous one, he thinks, because for Christ’s sake, he’s an actor. He’s never himself.

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” Alexandra says, backtracking. “You know I don’t. I just- I think I overheard Lucy say you had a problem with something or other last week?”

“Did you,” Dan mumbles, unable to keep the bitter sarcasm out of his town. Alexandra remains unfazed.

“What was that about, though?” she remains unfazed. “Nothing to do with the casting, is it?”

“You really think it’s to do with the casting?” Dan stares at her in disbelief, before scoffing. “Yeah, like, I’m gutted to have bagged the lead role alongside you at one of the best theatres in the country. How am I going to cope?”

Not entirely truthful, but not a complete lie either.

“Just making sure,” a grin tugs at her lips, and she flicks a curl of red hair behind her shoulders. “I don’t have much of a problem with it myself, to be honest.”

“That’s reassuring,” Dan smirks sarcastically, but his tone is fairly benign. There’s certainly no denying she’s fucking gorgeous and it’s really no wonder she’s Juliet – she has hair the colour of a sunset falling down her back in ruby curls, emerald eyes framed by a curl of long eyelashes and cherry red lips that stretch into a wide smile whenever Dan cracks a joke, giving way to a small dimple on the side of her cheek. Her skin is pale, the colour of moonlight, almost, and he idly thinks, just for a fleeting second, that the moon probably would be jealous of her. She’s beautiful.

“Certainly don’t have a problem with getting to snog you in front of a thousand people, I must be honest,” she adds, and Dan’s stomach drops and his grin vanishes. Shit.

He wrings out a laugh, internally wincing at how false it sounds. “Yeah, I- um-“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone mutters a few footsteps away from them. He snaps his head up, and Lucy plus Mr. Black-Hair are hunched over the desk, clearly getting nowhere with the absolute disaster they call an iBook.

“Wait- what’s the problem?” Dan suddenly gets up. He feels a little bad for leaving Alexandra so abruptly so he throws her a little apologetic ‘be right back’ glance, but he can’t help it – he might actually be able to help, here.

He shoves down the other voice in the back of his mind, the ‘or rather you’re just grabbing at any opportunity to avoid any potential conversation about the kiss you fucking wimp’

“It’s okay, Dan, sit back down. I’ll be with you both in a second,” Lucy calls over her shoulder.

“No, really,” Dan insists. “I know a thing or two about Macs. I have one myself, and-“ he catches Lucy drawing in a breath, ready to protest, and he regrets the spill of words almost as soon as they come out – fuck, why can’t he just keep his mouth shut? – but Mr. Black-Hair turns around, an eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Really?” his stare is the colour of ice, the sky on a December morning, but it’s weirdly warm at the same time.

“I- uh, yeah,” Dan stutters when he remembers how to talk again. “I’ve always had Macs. They’re great when they decide to work, but they can be a bitch when they begin to act up, and-“ he cuts himself off with an awkward shrug, “yeah.”

“Tell me about it,” the technician smirks. “This bastard-” he nods to the chunky white rectangle in his arms, “took me like, half an hour to boot up alone. And now it’s been frozen for like- twice as long as that. I’ve only had chance to type in my password so far.”

Lucy’s still standing in the middle of them and it’s getting a bit difficult to ignore the stony glare burning into Dan’s peripheral vision right now and even harder to avoid eye contact with her, but it doesn’t stop him from offering some help, albeit rather inappropriately timed.

“I- um, have my MacBook with me if that helps?” Dan offers, trying not to feel the heat of his blush when Mr. Black-Hair looks straight at him. “I mean- if you don’t need it that’s fine, but like- it’ll function a bit better than that thing,” he shrugs. “I dunno. It would probably save you a lot of time.”

“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “Like, with you right now?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I mean – I haven’t got my charger on me, but it’s on, like, eighty percent. Should be fine.”

“I mean-“ he throws a permission-seeking glance, towards Lucy, who Dan is pretty sure would be having steam coming out of her ears would it be humanly possible. She fixes Dan with a hard stare, a real ‘go on; be my guest’ look that’s always comes across as more of a dare than permission, a challenge for his conscience, but he can’t help an apologetic smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s cool with you, right?” his lips say before his mind catches up.

Lucy rolls her eyes in defeat. “If you absolutely must. But only- only because I could do with the extra time to independently go over one of Alexandra’s soliloquy.”

His face breaks out into a grin, and he’s not that sure why. “Thanks, Luce. I owe you one.”

“Don’t you make a habit of this, though. Remember; this is your own rehearsal time you’re sacrificing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan calls over his shoulder, trailing off. Mr. Black-Hair holds the door open behind him, and suddenly they’re out of the rehearsal studio and walking in a weird mutual silence sitting in a strange middle ground between comfortable and uncomfortable, across the car park and over to the actual theatre.

“Are you alright to do this, yeah?” Mr. Black-Hair (Dan seriously needs to come up with more imaginative mental nicknames for people) breaks the silence on their walk down to the trap room.

“It’s no problem at all,” he smirks as another wooden step groans under his foot. “Anything to get out of rehearsal.”

Dan’s never really been here before, never touched the underground territory where the technicians lurked, but there’s something about the atmosphere of this place that grips him.

Half an hour passes, and Dan couldn’t really tell you why he’s still sitting down here, still sitting on a revolving chair with a rip in the upholstery, under half-broken beams, tables that look like they’re seconds away from collapsing, and a lot of weird technology that he’d never even attempt to get his head around (seriously – do they even need this many buttons?). He’d given his laptop to Black Hair to receive a very emphatic ‘thank you, like seriously you’re a fucking lifesaver if I spent a second longer with that piece of shit I really don’t know what I would have done’ and the job had been done in seconds. Since then, a casual conversation had been struck up and Dan finds he doesn’t actually want to go back upstairs just yet.

“You two sounded really good in there,” Black Hair comments. They’d been talking about the play. “From what I heard, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Dan says, trying to ignore the quiet blush that warms his cheeks. There’s nothing quite like someone complimenting his acting. “Clearly not good enough for Lucy, though.”

“Few things are, Dan,” he sighs, and Dan only finds it half-weird that this guy knows his name, but Dan doesn’t actually know his. It’s unnerving, sure, but nothing he’s a stranger to. “She’s been on at you all morning.”

“Yeah,” Dan pauses, before adding an apologetic “sorry, I- um, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“It’s fine. I’m Phil,” he grins, and Dan thanks his lucky stars there’s finally a name to put to the face.

Dan studies him briefly, and frowns. “You do look familiar, actually.”

“Yeah – I do all the donkey work downstairs,” he grins. “You may have seen me emerge from the cave every now and then.”

Dan chuckles, deciding there and then that he likes Phil.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” Dan asks, studying the square lights looming above them, one of which he notices is stuttering slightly, flickering on and off every now and then.

Phil shrugs, not taking his eyes off of the screen. “Kinda. But I mean – I have my little crew down here, y’know? There’s five of us. We just like- keep each other company. Help each other whenever we need to,” he glances at Dan. “Oh, and sneak up to the theatre and watch you guys every now and then.”

Dan giggles. “Brilliant. Must be a nice little community, though.”

“Yeah, it is,” Phil hesitates. “Or perhaps ‘support group’ might be a more appropriate term. For the poor sods who have to put up with shitty laptops and gross food.”

Dan laughs, and helps himself to another Dorito.

“Okay, right- Dan, sorry if this sounds a bit weird because- like, we’ve pretty much only just met, but like- um- I was wondering if you wanted to-“

“Phil,” Dan cuts him off. As an actor, there’s something about hearing people stutter and ramble without really saying anything that tends to grate on him. “I’d love to.”

“Really? Well, I-“ Phil stops and frowns. “Hang on a second. How did you know I was gonna ask you to hang out?”

Dan shrugs like he hasn’t spent the last thirteen years mastering the sciences of body language and speech and how they can be applied to the acting world. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Phil smiles. “I mean- would you? Like, really?”

“Of course,” Dan says.

“Well yeah, like- I don’t have to be home for a while yet, and I have a car so we could just like- drive around for a bit? Go to town if you want?”

Dan smiles, and repeats what he said before he even knew what Phil was going to say.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It’s a bit of a weird result to come out of lending his laptop to a stranger for a while, but it’s how Dan finds himself spending the evening sat in the passenger seat on the top of a car park roof, blasting some weird indie song from the depth of Phil’s Spotify and watching the sun sink further behind the buildings, painting the sky warmer with every slow minute that passes on the dashboard clock.

They’d had a drive around the city together, sometimes talking, sometimes letting lulls in the conversation give way to thoughtful silences, both of them tapping away to Phil’s music taste, but Dan thinks it’s been about fifteen minutes since either of them last said anything.

“So,” Phil is the first to break the silence. He flicks the last of his cigarette out of the window (Dan had insisted on rolling down the windows before he did that – there’s no way he’s going home stinking of an ashtray). “Tell me about yourself.”

Dan looks up from his phone at that, his heart thudding.

“You what?”

“You know,” Phil’s gaze doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on the view in front of the windscreen. They’d picked a spot at the very top of a multi-storey car park overlooking everything, leaving the city a pool of lights and colours and life far beneath them. “I don’t really know you. So tell me about yourself.”

“I- um-“ Dan gulps. This wasn’t really a question he came prepared for. He shrugs. “I don’t really know what there is to tell, if I’m honest.”

“Oh, now come on,” Phil presses. “Just- anything. Your hobbies. Your life. Your dreams. What you want to be when you’re older.”

“I feel like I’m in a bloody job interview,” Dan chuckles. Phil’s lips quirk upwards in response.

“You are. I’m interviewing you to see if you’re fit for the job of being mates with me.”

“The ‘job’?” Dan frowns. “Like it’s a chore?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Phil grins. “Now, come on. I wanna hear about you.”

Dan gulps, silence falling for the first time in a while.

“I- um, well I think my hobby is probably pretty obvious, for a start,” Dan begins. Phil rolls his eyes. “And what I wanna be when I’m older, too. I’m gonna do a degree in Drama, I reckon.”

“What else are you into, then?”

Dan stops for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Phil presses, flicking his lighter and sparking up another cigarette. “You must have other interests besides acting. You got a girlfriend?”

Dan clams up. “Um- no.”

“Oh. Boyfriend, then?” he quirks his eyebrows, and Dan shakes his head miserably.

“Afraid not.”

“Glad we established that,” Phil smirks, but Dan doesn’t really smile back.

He chews on the inside of his lip, having a staring contest with a pair of headlights sliding across one of the roads beneath them.

“What music are you into, then?”

Dan swallows, trying to think. It’s like someone’s scraped over his mind with an eraser, rubbing out his interests and his life and his personality, all pencilled in with weak lines.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs. “This and that. I like whatever this is,” he nods to the Spotify track on Phil’s phone. “Bit of Indie, it’s good. Oh, and I love- what are they called? Pink Floyd?”

“Floyd’s good,” Phil agrees. “And Nirvana.”

“Yeah,” Dan gulps, feeling another silence probe the conversation.

“You into the Smashing Pumpkins?”

Dan shakes his head.

“Oh, okay. Slaves?”

Dan shakes his head again.

“Genesis?”

“Never even heard of them.”

“Cobalt Night?”

Dan shakes his head again

Phil cackles. “Oh Christ. You do realise I made that last band up?”

“Oh god,” Dan can feel his cheeks burn peony. “I’m not doing myself any favours here, am I?”

“Don’t worry, I’m only messing with you,” Phil says. “I think it would be more embarrassing if you said yes, to be honest.”

“True,” Dan shrugs, feeling Phil’s stare burn into his side profile. He sits back further in his seat, keeping his stare.

“You’re not really into much, are you?

Dan shrugs.

“I’m more into Musical Theatre, really. Ever since we did a production of Hamilton I haven’t really been able to get that rap out of my head,” he chuckles.

“Right,” Phil sits up a little bit and clears his throat. “Well we’ve established your music taste and your hobby. Who are your favourite actors, then?”

It’s like someone’s flicked a switch inside Dan. His eyes light up.

“-and Leonardo DiCaprio, oh my God, don’t even get me started on him. I mean- who wouldn’t fuck young Leo? Have you even seen him in Titanic? And Romeo and Juliet too, Jesus Christ he’s gorgeous. He’s so fucking gorgeous. I’m not gonna do Romeo’s role any justice when he’s my competition, am I?”

Phil just nods and says the odd ‘hm’, listening to Dan’s stream of consciousness.

“-and Helena Bonham-Carter, what a fucking legend, man. She’s just- her character is just so versatile, you know? I mean- there’s a good reason she’s in literally everything, and that’s because she’s fucking amazing- have you seen Fight Club? You must have seen it, it’s incredible. She’s incredible. It’s a bit of a mind fuck if I’m honest, what with the split personality thing and everything, but- oh God, Brad Pitt is so good in it too. And he’s pretty hot, I’m not gonna lie. Well, until he grew out his hair and looked a bit like a farmer. But- where was I? Oh yeah, Helena Bonham Carter-”

“She was good in Sweeney Todd, too,” Phil comments, and he’s off again.

“-like, that was the first time I ever saw Johnny Depp act, and by Christ that film creeped me out. I mean- I was only like, seven when I watched it so of course it was gross, like, what seven year old watches people do- you know, that, to paying customers? I feel sorry for the poor sods who just went in there wanting to give their beards a trim. But- yeah, they were both really good in Sweeney Todd. I had a bit of a crush on Helena- and Johnny too, for that matter, I mean come on, who didn’t? But then I found out Johnny Depp is a bit of a dick in real life so I went off him after that. But Helena’s still cool, obviously.”

“She’s good, yeah,” Phil nibbles at a protruding hangnail on his thumb.

“And- oh god, who’s another good actor? Oh, don’t even get me started on Morgan Freeman. Absolute fucking legend. Like, oh my god. Him and that other one- god, what’s his name? The guy from Donnie Darko?”

Dan’s brain is moving far too quickly for Phil to keep up and he has no idea what the correlation between Morgan Freeman and Donnie Darko is, but he gives it a shot anyway.

“Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“Yes. Yes, oh my god, that’s the one,” Dan’s face breaks out into a grin. “Fuck, Donnie Darko. What a film, man. My friend has a tattoo of it, and-“

It continues like this, Dan chatting nineteen-to-the-dozen and Phil counting the glitters of passion in his eyes, before they’re both interrupted by a buzzing on Dan’s lap.

“Oh shit,” he grabs his phone. “It’s my mum.”

Phil doesn’t know what she’s saying on the other end of the line, but judging by Dan’s apologies it sounds like he’s stayed out here for a little too long.

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles, tugging on his seatbelt. “Lost track of time a bit, there.”

“Clearly,” Phil grins.

“This was good, though,” Dan says. “Like, really good. Thanks for, you know. Suggesting this.”

“Tell you what,” Phil leans into him, and Dan can smell his cologne. “We’re gonna come back up here again soon, okay? And you’re gonna tell me about yourself. Properly, this time.

Dan frowns. “Isn’t that what I’ve spent the past like- hour doing?” he glances at the clock and shit, has it really been that long? It’s pitch black outside, the only light coming from the glitter of the city beneath them (shit, it really is beautiful from up here) and he was supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” Phil says, starting up the engine. “The only difference being next time we do this, I’m going to ban you from saying the word ‘acting’. So I can hear about you, the real you, and not whoever you pretend to be for a living.”

The next few days pass in a blur of line-learning, enduring Lucy’s lectures about how he just ‘isn’t putting enough ‘oomph’ into it, come on now, we’ll take it from the top one more time’ and Dan has to act like he actually gives more of a shit about what Romeo’s saying right now than what Phil had said in that car a few days ago. He has to act like it isn’t what he’d been reciting over and over in his mind, the words digging grooves into the back of his mind and making themselves at home.

He has to act like there’s more to his fucking life than acting.

The next time Dan sees Phil, they’re both cooped up in a control room eating lunch in a companionable silence; Dan going over his lines and Phil puzzling over these two wires that are, according to him, sly bastards that won’t fucking go in these holes Jesus Christ, to which Dan had shut his eyes and prayed to god no-one outside the room had caught that out of context. There’s a huge control panel, rows and rows of buttons and sound mixers and, as Dan had very accurately christened them, “slidey-things” in front of them. He has no idea what any of this stuff is, no idea what a “cross-fader” is or what the hell a “submaster” is supposed to do, but every now and then Phil will casually lean over and flick a switch or press a button and a stage light beneath them will change.

“What’s up?”

Dan looks up from his script. He’s been poring over his lines for so long he’s pretty sure stripes of yellow highlighter are now permanently inked into the back of his mind, now.

“What? Nothing.”

Phil swings his legs off of the bar they’d been resting against. They’re halfway through sharing a KitKat (Dan had taken a trip down to the Co-op at the beginning of the lunch break and returned with a bag so heavy with food it had left a dent in his hand, insisting Phil can’t be living on stale crisps his entire life) and watching a rehearsal, one Dan doesn’t have to be in for once, through a pane of glass.

“You’re going to have to do better if you want to convince me, Mr. Theatre Kid,” Phil reaches over to the bowl in front of them and plucks a grape from the stem. “I thought you were good at acting.”

“What do you want me to do; leap up and perform a jig?” Dan turns a page, the paper rustling a bit too loudly. “I’m fine, Phil. Stop reading into things too much.”

Phil stares at him. “You’re sat there with a face as long as my leg, and I’m reading into things?” he quirks an eyebrow. “Be careful. If you stare at that page any longer it’ll probably burst into flames.”

“Shut up,” Dan mutters, the edge in his voice a little too sharp for it to slip by as a joke.

Phil does.

Dan sighs. “Sorry, I just-“

“Rehearsals getting to you?” he suggests softly. Dan doesn’t plan on letting the real problem slip; Christ, he can only imagine the havoc that would ensue if it got around that as well as obsessing over acting he’s also never actually kissed anyone, so he quickly takes Phil up on that.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean- Romeo’s a good character to play, I guess, but he does have an awful lot to say.”

“You’ll be okay,” Phil reassures him. “You still have months of time left to memorise your lines. When’s the play?”

“Seventh of February,” Dan says. Two months from now.

“There we go,” Phil says. “You have plenty of time yet.”

“I guess so,” Dan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve done this millions of times before,” Phil says. “You’ll be fine; I know you will. You’re a natural.”

Dan wishes he knew the half, he really does, but there’s just something about Phil’s smile that makes him almost want to believe him.

Dan manages to tell Phil a little bit more about himself next time they’re on the roof together, and in return, he learns a bit about Phil too.

“Well, when I was acti-“

“Nuh-uh,” Phil interrupts him. “No acting talk, remember?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “It’s relevant to what I was gonna say. It’s an important part of the story.”

“Wherever the hell you can fit acting into a story about you and your friends getting drunk and stealing a supermarket trolley because you couldn’t afford a taxi, I’d be very impressed.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dan grins, and that was the only time acting came into conversation that night.

Dan learns Phil is eighteen, that he’d failed his driving test three times before passing because he was driving on the wrong side of the dual carriageway, and swears he’s going to give up smoking next year, he promises. He learns that his favourite colour is blue because he likes the way the colour skates across the ocean water in the summer, and that he used to be scared of dogs before his parents got him a puppy for Christmas, a bouncy Labrador called Daisy with a love for the sun and walks down to the beach.

“I fucking love dogs,” Dan beams.

“So do I, now. Took me long enough,” Phil agrees, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Daisy’s so cute, oh my god. You will love her.”

Dan doesn’t say anything, but there’s something about the definite use of ‘you will’ that he likes.

He, in turn, finds that he does have some thoughts and feelings and dreams hidden away in there, beneath the façade of scripts and stage lights and acting. He finds he does have stuff to say, stuff that isn’t always attached to a web stringing back to the theatre. He tells Phil all about his cat, Ozzy (a little shit who takes great pleasure in knocking all his belongings off of his desk and sleeping on his laptop, but he loves him anyway) his annoying next-door neighbours who don’t seem to see any problem with blasting ABBA at three in the morning, and they manage to find common bands they both like. Oasis is playing when the sun sinks, the sky darkens, and the city lights up beneath them.

“God, I love this one,” Phil mumbles, his speech obscured by the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “Don’t Look Back In Anger. It’s one of their best.”

“Oh god, yeah,” Dan agrees, tapping along to the chorus. “That and Stand By Me. Oh god, and Champagne Supernova, too.”

Phil grins at that, and leans forward, picking his phone up from the dashboard. Before Dan has a chance to question him, the chorus stops dead in its tracks, and an acoustic softness follows the sudden silence, a series of guitar chords that are just that bit too familiar. He grins.

“I always think the intro sounds a bit like Wonderwall,” Phil comments, putting his phone down and leaning back in the seat.

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, leaning back in his own seat and turning his gaze to the city beneath them, staring at lights and roads and buildings until they pool into a hazy amber blur in his vision.

How many special people change,

How many lives are living strange,

Where were you while we were getting high?

Slowly walking down the hall,

Faster than a cannonball

Where were you while we were getting high?

Someday you will find me,

Caught beneath the landslide,

In a champagne supernova in the sky.

Someday you will find me,

Caught beneath the landslide,

In a champagne supernova;

A champagne supernova in the sky.

They don’t say anything, instead letting Liam Gallagher do the talking, but sly glances are exchanged from under brown fringes and black eyelashes.

“Nice up here, isn’t it?”

It’s only until Phil breaks the silence they’ve lapsed into that Dan realises the song has drawn to a close. He slides his gaze from the city and over to Phil, over to his thoughtful stare skating along the skyline, the ruffled sweep of black hair coating his fringe, and the orange glow of a cigarette tip poking out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes flicker over to Dan’s.

Dan looks back over to the city.

“Yeah.”

“I always come up here.”

“I can see why.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes a little look over the city is just what you need to clear your head. It just puts everything in perspective, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dan swallows. “It really does.”

There’s a litter of thoughts and worries in his mind, buried deep and multiplying with every day that drags past, every day that pulls him closer and closer to the production, to the hundreds of burning stares in the audience seats, to his colleague’s lips. He’s been longing for a break from it. Just a few hours of silence, a few quiet moments that don’t have to be spent combing over every single thought in his head, thinking and thinking until it inflates into anxiety, spilling into the pit of his stomach and clawing at the edges as it goes.

And the more he counts the city lights, the more he feels the cold night air stroke his cheeks and the engines reverberating around the car park levels beneath them, the more he reckons a more few nights up here. It’s the remedy he needs; just him, Phil and the lights.

Their eyes meet seconds after, and Dan can feel the question he’s vowed to ask Phil before the end of the night already beginning to rest on his lips, on the cusp of speech.

“When can we do this again?”

The late nights begin to pass more frequently in a spinning blur of city nights, passenger seats and conversations, all whispers and cold air and stolen glances. Dan can feel himself unravelling like a threadbare blanket, his carefully constructed personas and characters fraying at the edges with every hour spent up on the top of the city with a boy whose lips spill truths like water, and it isn’t long until Dan finds cracks in his paper personalities and begins to feel more and more honesty begin to seep through. He finds that no, he doesn’t have to spin false anecdotes like cotton and lie about his interests and find a way of linking everything back to acting, hooking every little quirk and element to his personality back to the stage. He doesn’t have to impress Phil with his knowledge of Hollywood throughout the years and he doesn’t have to act like he loves things he’s never actually heard of and he doesn’t have to lock his feelings away and throw away the key.

He doesn’t have to pretend.

It’s all okay until they fall onto the topic of previous relationships.

It’s been a good night. They’d visited the car park again, but this time without the car (it was warm enough to leave it in the driveway and make their own way up the concrete staircases, glass bottles in plastic bags clinking around their legs). They’d situated themselves in the very same parking space, the one second to the right and next to a beacon, but they’d traded car seats for a picnic blanket, headlights for phone torches and gear sticks for bottle openers.

“Yeah, like- fuck, she wasn’t a good kisser at all, was Mary. I mean- we were in year nine and she tried, bless her, and God knows so did I. But you know, with that as my first impression of kissing, when it was over I was like ‘what the fuck is all the fuss about?’” Phil chuckles, and Dan pretends to grin.

“Yeah, I mean-“ he shrugs, staring down at his lap. “I’ve had my fair share of bad kisses in my time.”

The ease with which the lie rolls off of his tongue almost takes him by surprise. It’s been a while since he’s lied about himself to Phil, and it feels strange.

“I can imagine,” Phil says, before frowning. “But you’re an actor. So you must be an excellent kisser, right? What with all the practice you guys have.”

Dan frowns, looking up from his bottle. “You what?”

“Oh come on. I saw what went on in the back of that car last term. Eddie and Alexandra. That play involved more lip-on-lip action than the fucking Notebook.”

Dan smiles at that, remembering the play adaptation they actually did of that when he was in year ten. He doesn’t quite know whether to laugh or cry over the sheer amount of starring roles he’s had that are heavily eloped in some kind of romantic storyline.

“Us actors have our techniques,” he says carefully.

Phil’s eyes widen at that. “You do? Like what?”

Dan shrugs, taking another sip of beer. “Oh, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Phil shuffles closer, a flicker of eagerness in his cerulean stare and shit, Dan’s beginning to regret opening his mouth now. “Come on. What techniques do you have? I could use a few tips myself.”

Dan raises an eyebrow, his eyes firmly locked onto the spread of amber lights in front of them.

“I doubt you’d ever want to use these kinds of techniques on anyone,” he says, a hint of humour drying his speech. “I imagine stage-kissing on a real date would be quite a deal-breaker.”

“Stage kissing, huh?” Phil widens his eyes. “How does that differentiate from a real kiss, then?”

“Well,” Dan takes another sip of his drink, his vision beginning to slow down. “First of all, it’s not really a kiss at all.”

“Huh?” Phil frowns.

“I mean- not usually. There are different kinds of stage-kisses, but most of them don’t involve, you know,” he smirks, reusing Phil’s rather vulgar term of “lip-on-lip action”.

“So you guys don’t actually kiss?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. “Nope.”

“But-… how does that work?”

Alcoholic courage swims through Dan’s veins at that. He glances at Phil.

The words are a whisper, a dare almost, and it isn’t until Phil nods that Dan realises he’s actually said it out loud.

“Want me to show you?”

“Yeah, go on,” Phil’s tone is casual, soft almost, but his eyes are glittering.

“Okay, well- come over here,” he beckons.

Phil does as he’s told, shuffling up on his knees until he’s facing Dan.

“One of the actors needs to have their back to the audience,” Dan says. “So, let’s say the wall over there is the audience,” he nods over Phil’s shoulder to the stretch of concrete watching them.

“Alright. The wall’s the audience. Now what?”

“Now,” Dan gulps, feeling his heart begin to pick up the pace because shit, this is really happening now. “So, what you do is, like, just lean in normally for a kiss, but stop just as your lips are about to touch.”

Phil scoffs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Look, do you want me to show you or not?”

“Nah, nah, I’m kidding,” Phil says. “C’mon, then. Show me how it’s done in Hollywood.”

“You dick,” Dan mumbles, but he’s leaning in.

Phil gets closer, his face begins to crawl up to Dan’s until their noses are brushing and his fringe is a tickle on Dan’s cheek and his breath mixes with Dan’s own, warm and languid through parted lips and fuck, Dan’s heart is really thudding now. His legs feel like jelly and his lungs feel like fire and there’s something warm and fiery swirling in the pit of his stomach, something alien, something that he’s certainly never felt before with any other colleague he’s come this agonisingly close to kissing.

They stay there for what feels like minutes, lips hovering, warmth tingling and the city still thundering beneath them, and it’s Phil who pulls away first.

“Impressive,” he smiles, eyes glittering with nonchalance. “Frustrating, but impressive. Is that your go-to one, then?”

It takes three swigs of beer to calm Dan down before he can speak again.

“I mean- um, yeah. Though sometimes if you’re, like, sitting really far over to the side in the audience you might be able to tell that they’re not actually kissing, so,” he shrugs. “It just depends on the stage, I guess.”

“Right,” Phil nods, swigging from his own bottle. “You, er- you mentioned a few other types, right?”

The thought of coming that close to Phil’s lips again sends the strange flame of warmth flooding back into Dan’s stomach. He all but chokes on his mouthful of drink.

“Er- yeah,” he stutters. “There are a few others,” he gulps again and shit, what’s up with him?

Dan doesn’t really know what’s happening, doesn’t know why being within a metre radius of this guy is already making him feel far more than he’d ever felt with any colleague, kissing or not, but it doesn’t stop him from beckoning the older boy over and showing him kiss number two, their lips locked together with nothing except Dan’s thumb in between them. He can feel the warmth of Phil’s mouth against his skin, the hot movement of Phil’s breath through his nose and the tickle of his hair against his cheek again. When he parts his mouth, Dan feels the tiniest touch of lip against his. It’s only the very corner and can’t have lasted for longer than a millisecond, but the feeling comes back like a spark to a flame and he’s beginning to find it difficult to balance and oh, shit.

They break apart, eyes searching each other’s, and it’s the first time Dan’s feeling like this post-‘kiss’ without having to throw on a character like an old shirt. He doesn’t have to follow anything up with someone else’s speech, with a fake accent and a stupid costume and a mannerism that doesn’t quite fit.

For once, he doesn’t feel like he has to act.

Phil narrows his eyes after a few silent seconds, fighting back a smirk.

Dan frowns, the post-stage kiss high beginning to melt away.

“What?”

“Is that seriously it?” Phil says.

“Yeah,” Dan moves away, trying to ignore the surge of electricity he had felt upon edging within a few millimetres of the other boy’s lips, the city a roar beneath them.

“I don’t know why I feel so disappointed,” Phil smirks. “From where I sit, looking at you lot doing all your stuff down on the stage, it looks a whole sight more realistic than that.”

Dan looks back out to the city.

“Yeah, well,” he says, feeling his heart slow down. “Acting isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“So. You and Alexandra, eh?”

Dan glares at him. Dawn is beginning to throw pastel colours into the blackness of the sky. It’s still dark enough to see the stars, fainter twinkles against the sweep of indigo above them, but it’s light enough for them to see each other, to make out feint outlines of faces in the low pre-sunrise light, eyes half-lidded and shadowed from the sleepless hours. It must be pushing four in the morning, and they’ve been here since eleven o’clock, leaving their parents with promises that they’re spending the night round each other’s houses to make a few preparations for the play.

(If reciting Romeo’s Balcony Scene soliloquy through giggles and slightly drunken slurs counts as preparation, then at least half of that promise is true).

“We’re not an item,” Dan mumbles, taking a drag from his cigarette. It tastes strange, kind-of like dirt and ash and tar and he’s not a smoker and probably never will be, but Phil had offered him one and- well, fuck it.

“I know,” Phil says. “But you guys are performing in the round, aren’t you?” Phil narrows his eyes, and Dan swears he leans an inch or two closer before whispering, “your stage kisses won’t work from that angle, I’m telling you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Dan shuts his eyes. So far he’d been doing quite a grand job of pushing that worry to the back of his mind, burying it deep into his consciousness. The whole reason he’s up here altogether is to escape it.

Phil hesitates.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t you want to kiss Alexandra?”

Dan gulps, the taste of alcohol souring on his tongue a little.

“It’s not that,” he says. “I mean- a kiss is a kiss, right? It’s all part of the job, and-“

“But you don’t fancy her,” Phil says.

Dan frowns. “Well- no, of course not. She’s a colleague.”

“I know,” Phil says. “It makes a difference though, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“Kissing someone you don’t fancy. It’s weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Dan mumbles. It’s getting harder and harder to maintain this lie. “I- er, yeah. I usually stick to stage-kissing on the job, to be honest,” he shrugs. “It’s just easier than kissing someone you don’t really have feelings for.”

“Have you never, you know, properly kissed anyone before, then?”

Dan takes a deep breath. Lies can flow like water when he wants them to; he’s a master at concealing the truth behind a blanket of fabrication and deception, but there’s something about talking to Phil that makes falsehood sour on his tongue.

He lets it out in a deep sigh, feeling his chest deflate and his heart thud. Fuck it.

“You know what?,” he begins. “No. I haven’t. I don’t know if you can tell, but- yeah. I dunno, I guess that’s why I’m so stressed about this shit with Alexandra. And like- I know that probably makes me a fucking loser for never having kissed anyone at the age I am now, and probably even more of a loser that I want my first one to be with someone special, but- fuck, I don’t know,” he swallows, feeling the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen a little. “No. I haven’t. Okay?”

Phil doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip and averts his eyes down to the neck of his bottle. He fiddles with the loose cap, letting it fall through the spaces between his fingers with a sharp clink.

Dan doesn’t like that, doesn’t like the silence. The knot returns.

“What?”

“I- er- that wasn’t really what I meant,” Phil finally says.

The knot tightens.

“What do you mean it’s not what you meant?”

“I meant have you properly kissed anyone on stage before,” Phil glances up. “Not in general.”

Dan’s stomach drops. Oh fuck.

He open his mouth, but no speech follows. No amount of words can haul himself out of his hole now. Shit.

“I mean-“ he finally speaks again after a silence, and there’s a tremor in his voice that he desperately tries to smooth over. “Oh, shit,” he deflates, feeling the pit of his stomach begin to churn due to the abundance of the night’s alcohol. There’s no point trying to clamber out of the hole he’s just dug himself. He’ll only deepen it.

“Have you really never kissed anyone?” Phil asks in a quieter voice, but he doesn’t sound surprised. Or humoured. Or any other emotion Dan had feared. Just… curious. “Like, at all?”

Dan gulps, the beer a sour swirl in the pit of his stomach. Maybe the sixth bottle was a mistake.

“Well there’s no point denying it now, is there?” Dan finally mumbles, his eyes fixed on a dent in the concrete not far from where they’re sitting. “No. I haven’t.”

The gentle thrum of city engines fills the silence between them, and the three seconds Phil doesn’t say anything for might as well have been days.

“Yep,” Dan breaks the quietness once it borders on unbearable. “There you go. You think I’m a fucking weirdo now, don’t you?”

“Not at all,” Phil replies, and his voice is unusually calm. Dan looks up, his eyes meeting a soft expression, and for some reason he really didn’t expect Phil to react like this.

“So-“ Dan shakes his head. “What? You’re not gonna take the piss? Laugh at me? Say I’m a fucking weirdo that only lied to you to try and look cool?”

The truth scratches his heart, but it needs to be said.

“Why the fuck would I laugh at you?” Phil frowns, and there’s something about the sincerity in his voice that, beneath the turmoil, Dan finds weirdly comforting.

“I mean,” Phil begins. “I’m surprised, don’t get me wrong. Only because you’re an actor and- well, let’s face it, you’re fucking gorgeous too, but-“ he shakes his head. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the first to say I’d much rather make sure my first kiss means something. If anything, I agree with you on that.”

“You’re not pissed off that I lied to you?” Dan gulps down another mouthful of lukewarm alcohol.

“Of course not, you twat,” Phil says. “I mean, I get why you did, but there was no need to. Really.”

“I know,” Dan sighs, picking at the label on his glass bottle until the paper frays at the edges.

“Wanna know something?” Phil says, his eyes not moving from the soft sweep of stars above them, dimmed by the early morning light.

Dan takes his eyes away from the sky. “What?”

“If you’re a liar, then so am I,” Phil tells the stars.

Dan frowns. “You what?”

Phil’s eyes flick back down to earth, meeting Dan’s gaze. “I lied too.”

Dan gulps, his heart thudding. “About what?”

Phil forces a chuckle, but it’s drained of humour. “Do I have to spell it out to you? I haven’t kissed anyone either.”

The words ring in Dan’s ears moments after, Phil’s voice an echo above the roar of the city below.

“Wait-…” is the only word that passes Dan’s lips in the next passing minute or so. “But-…”

“Yeah,” Phil shrugs. “Turns out you’re not the only one, are you?”

“But-…” Dan shakes his head. “Why did you lie about it too?”

Phil just shrugs and says, “same reasons you did.”

Dan tries, he really tries, to comb through the tangle of confusion in his mind right now, but the best response he can come up with after a moment or two of silence isn’t the most articulate.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, and they descend into quietness again.

“Shame, isn’t it?” Phil is the first to break the silence. “That we feel the need to lie about that.”

“It’s society’s fault for making us feel as if being over the age of about fifteen without having shoved a tongue down anyone’s throat is a failure.”

Phil grimaces. “I’ve never understood the attraction of that, you know. Like, I get making out and stuff, but why would you want to literally devour the person next to you? When I saw kissing scenes as a kid I thought they were actually trying to eat each other.”

“I know,” Dan takes a sip of beer, the alcohol slipping down with a little more ease now. “It sounds grim. I don’t know how people do it. At least with acting on stage you don’t have that problem.”

“True,” Phil mirrors his actions, pulling his drink away from his lips and tracing the rim of the bottle with the tip of his thumb, staring down the tube-shaped glass into the remains of the flat beer, swimming lukewarm and flat at the bottom of the bottle. Only when he glances up a few seconds later does Dan realise he’s been staring.

Dan smirks.

“What are you grinning at?”

“Just-…” he shakes his head and shit, he’s definitely had enough to drink tonight. He can feel the alcohol-induced honesty begin leaking through his parted lips and he knows he’ll probably end up saying something he’ll regret tomorrow morning but- oh, fuck it. “The thought of you having never kissed anyone. It just- doesn’t make sense to me like- look at you. How?”

He’s not really sure where the line between a compliment and a very sorry attempt at flirting is drawn but he’s pretty sure he’s fallen somewhere in the middle.

Phil’s gaze lingers a few seconds too long. “I could ask you the same thing. I mean- come on, look at you. A guy like you must have been drowned in opportunities.”

They’re both a bit too drunk, a bit too cold and there’s something about the atmosphere of an empty car park at fuck-knows-o’clock that warps reality just a little. Dan blinks and the city lights don’t unblur and he feels a bit like he’s in a dream.

“Yeah, I-…” he shrugs. “I’ve had my fair share of offers, I won’t lie.”

“I’ll bet,” Phil interjects, and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t either,” Dan rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking. “I just-… yeah, I dunno. I didn’t really wanna waste it, but I never really found someone I liked enough.”

“That’s nice, that is,” Phil says, and though Dan scours his tone of voice for a trace of sarcasm or mockery, but Phil’s eyes glitter earnestly. “No, like, really. Most teenagers just, you know, dive straight into it. Slam their face against anything with a pulse that crosses their path. But the fact you care enough to wait,” he glances up, eyeing the boy beside him carefully. “That’s rare. Kinda admirable in a way.”

“Were you the same, then?”

Phil nods without any hesitation. “A hundred percent.”

Dan nods understandingly, taking another sip of beer, and the two of them watch the town sleep for a quiet moment before Phil speaks up again.

“Oh, come here,” he stretches out his arms. “You look like you’re seconds away from hypothermia, for Christ’s sake.”

Dan leans into his chest, closing his eyes and snuggling into the Topman denim of Phil’s jacket. “I don’t really think a car park roof is the most suitable drinking spot,” he mumbles, his speech slightly obscured by his rattling jaw.

“Not at five a.m. in December at least,” Phil says. “It’s a lot nicer in summer, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Dan says, and the indirect promise that they’ll come out here and do this again makes Phil smile.

It’s quiet, serene and blue, and Dan loses count of the minutes that drip by until he hears Phil’s voice again, shattering his trance dancing on the fragile edge of drunken consciousness.

“Dan?” it’s only a half-whisper, but it still makes him jump.

The younger boy turns his head, his brown hair tousling against Phil’s denim chest until they’re eye-to-eye.

Phil lowers his gaze, but this time his eyes don’t flicker back up to Dan’s. Dan parts his mouth in response, but before he can say anything, there’s a surge forward and a soft pair of lips on his.

A jolt of adrenaline, shock, and a general ‘holy-fucking-shit-this-can’t-be-happening’ feeling shimmers through his body as he kisses back, and despite his embarrassing inexperience when it comes to anything remotely romantic, his lips move perfectly in time with Phil’s, their mouths melting together in flawless harmony.

Phil’s the one to break away, and Dan misses his lips the second the cold morning air touches his mouth. He frowns, studying Phil’s expression half-hidden by his mop of black hair, but the older boy refuses eye contact.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came ov-“

“Don’t apologise,” Dan cuts him off immediately, his hand hovering over Phil’s arm in quiet protest. “Just-…” he gulps. “Do it again,”

Phil’s head snaps up, his eyes boring into the brown stare in mild confusion.

“Please,” Dan mouths, and Phil doesn’t need to be told twice.

They kiss for longer, deeper, slightly parted lips and slow breathing and the teal glow of 5am light and shit, this was certainly worth a seventeen year wait. Phil’s lips feel like warmth and taste like tobacco and he feels a gentle comb of shy fingertips through his hair and yep, he can definitely see what all the fuss is about now.

When they break apart for the second time, all blushes and broken breaths, they’re both grinning. Phil drops his gaze with a bashful chuckle.

“Well,” Dan breathes. He’s still sitting close, their upper arms touching but neither of them really wanting to move away.

“Well,” Phil says, almost in agreement. They’re bathed in silence once again, but this time it’s comfortable.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Dan begins, looking out over the city. “That was definitely worth the wait.”

Phil tilts his head down, their noses almost touching. “Yeah?”

“For sure,” Dan cranes his neck up a little and pecks Phil’s lips again. The other boy grins, pulling his jacket further over Dan’s shoulders.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime then, won’t we?” Phil’s eyes glitter.

Dan grins, glancing at the view spread in front of them. The sun is beginning to awaken and there are fewer streetlights illuminating the land below and it’s cold and wow, they should really think about heading home soon. Dan hasn’t checked his phone in hours and he’s sure it can’t be running on anything much more than a measly four percent.

“Definitely,” he says, then hesitates. “Although, well.”

“Well what?”

Dan flicks his eyes up at the boy above him, tired brown against weary blue.

“Perhaps next time we should choose somewhere a little warmer than a car park,” he says in a soft voice, before adding, “I can barely feel my arse right now.”

Phil bursts out laughing, and then a pair of lips are on his for the third time.

The next couple of weeks rush by in a flurry of rehearsals, meetings, crumpled scripts and weird costumes that itch around the collar. Dan and Phil spend most of their time three storeys apart, meaning secret rendezvous up in the control room or down in the trap room are often necessary. The closer the big day creeps, the hotter the atmosphere becomes with stress, so it’s nice to leave the tension with the stage and the equally tense co-workers and escape for a bit.

“For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, and never from this palace of dim night depart aga- oh for fuck’s sake, you’re not even listening.”

Phil looks up from his phone, a giggling smirk still lingering on his face. “Huh?”

“Come on, Phil. You said you’d go through this with me and you’re sat there playing around with bloody Snapchat filters.”

“Sorry, sorry – I am listening, it’s just-“ his eyes flicker back down to the screen in front of him. “That’s hideous. Who even makes these filters? I look like a toe.”

“Can unflattering photos of you not wait five minutes until I’ve finished this? We’re literally nearly done anyway. We only have, like, one more paragraph to g-” Phil interrupts him by flipping the phone around to face the other boy. A bald, rather unsightly version of Phil with weird eyes stares back. Dan’s eyes widen in horror. “Fuck, that really is hideous.”

“I know,” Phil shudders. “I didn’t even know my face could do that,” he glances back at the screen and pulls a couple of experimental faces. “Would you still be with me if I looked like that?”

“Nope,” Dan replies semi-seriously, rolling his eyes when Phil pouts.

“What about if I looked like this?” Phil turns the phone around. He looks a lot better this time, but a little bit too much like an animal. Dan’s never really understood the national attraction towards ‘dog filters’.

“Probably. The ears might get in the way a bit, though,” he chuckles, before urging, “now come on. We haven’t got long left now.”

Phil agrees, albeit reluctantly. He swings his legs off the table, grabs Dan’s battered highlighted mess of a script sitting in front of him and they pick up from where they left off, something about ‘worms that are thy chamber maids’, ‘everlasting rest’ and ‘inauspicious stars’ (whatever the fuck that adjective means). They last a grand total of fifteen seconds before Dan’s voice is interrupted by a shriek of laughter.

“Oh, fucking hell that’s bad!” Phil cackles. Dan groans, wondering for a fleeting second where the best place to launch Phil’s phone might be.

“That’s it,” he loses it, suddenly leaping across the table and swiping the irritating rectangle of interest straight from Phil’s hand. His smile vanishes in seconds.

“Aw, what?!”

“You have five seconds to put this stupid fucking thing away, or else it’s going out there,” he points to the window behind them. Phil follows his gaze, his eyes widening. They can see the majority of the town from up here. That’s a long drop.

He turns his head back around. They’re nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye.

“Fine,” Phil smiles, the tips of their noses brushing together. “But just so you know, seeing you angry just makes me want to kiss you more.”

Dan rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his smirk. “Are you still gonna want to kiss me when your phone ends up on the ground?”

“What do you mean ‘when’? I’ve put it away now,” he points to the bulge in his back pocket.

Dan fixes him with a glare.

“Come on,” Phil leans forward as Dan leans back. “Just one?” he pleads, his eyes big and blue.

He shakes his head and pulls away, a grin curling at his lips. His eyes flicker back to Phil, a brown gaze that lingers too long.

“Afterwards,” he says in a voice like velvet.

Phil rolls his eyes, flopping back onto the chair. “Fine. Bloody hell, it’s like being back at school.”

Dan pretends not to hear that last comment. “Come on, we’ll take it from “world-wearied flesh…”

Phil’s phone doesn’t move once from his pocket after that. The promise of Dan’s lips after rehearsal is more tempting than any filter some dumb app has to offer.

“How do I look?”

Phil eyes him up and down, a smirk playing at his lips. “Hot.”

The comment receives a soft punch to his upper arm.

“Behave,” Dan turns back to the mirror, twining a lock of perfectly sprayed hair that he was specifically instructed not to touch around his fingers. “Are you sure? I feel like I look like a-“

He’s interrupted by a pair of soft lips for a few seconds.

“That’s really not helping the nerves,” Dan breathes once they break away.

Phil grins. “You look fine. You know you do. Now quit playing with your hair before Alexa sees.”

Dan doesn’t think Alexa, the make-up artist, is capable of seeing anything that isn’t within a thirty-centimetre radius of her own face right now. She’s been hurrying around backstage all evening; powdering this, curling that, flitting from actor-to-actor so quickly it makes Dan out of breath to even watch her. She certainly hasn’t done a bad job though, he thinks, as he inspects his reflection. A slightly dishevelled, 15th-century version of himself stares back, all weird leather and burgundy velvet and wow, perhaps he should sport an Elizabethan tunic more often.

“Suits you,” Phil smiles as if he’d read his mind. Dan adjusts the collar accordingly.

“D’you reckon?”

“Yeah,” Phil eyes him up and down again. “Most people here kinda look like twats in their costume, but you really actually pull that off.”

“Um- thanks? I think?” Dan smirks, frowning at his reflection. He doesn’t mention it has anything to do with his long-standing ability to morph into literally anyone he likes (he’d often been described by many make-up artists as having a “chameleon face” which he hopes is a reference to his adaptability to blend into multiple characters as opposed to resembling a lizard), and instead accepts the ever-so-slightly backhanded compliment.

“What are you doing down here?” someone with an updo the size of Jupiter asks Phil, sauntering past in something that really rather resembles a cupcake. Phil was right, Dan thinks. They do look a bit ridiculous. “They need you upstairs in five minutes.”

“Oh shit,” Phil glances at his watch. “Okay. Gotta go before Nick kills me.”

“Alright,” Dan smiles, pulling him in for a quick hug.

“Good luck,” he whispers into his shoulder. “You’ll fucking kill it.”

Dan tightens his grip around his arms. “Thank you.”

The word has multiple other meanings, and judging by the glitter in Phil’s eye when he pulls away, he thinks he understands every single one.

That night, Dan lavishes in warm spotlights and painted wooden sets resembling palaces and balconies, and he feels alive.

That night, the finest Elizabethan literature spills from his lips, flowing as easily as water, his voice shaping every monologue, soliloquy and duologue perfectly.

That night, there are another pair of lips on his; only this time painted red and totally professional. It feels strange, alien, and not a single trace of the spark in his heart that Phil’s lips ignite can be found, but it’s work. It’s courage.

And that night, someone up in the control booth watches through the pane of glass over all the light boards and buttons and wires, and smiles.

As if it’s been almost a year since my last oneshot??? Wtf this must CHANGE I’m getting back into writing (properly this time I swear) so there’s a lot more where this came from. Feedback is always appreciated whether it be good or bad so pls let me know how you found this! Feels so good to be doing this again u have nooo idea holy shit <3

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phan au #danisnotonfire #amazingphil #dan and phil #i really hope this is ok i'm so nervous about posting lol #pls pls pls let me know what you think #it's been a while since i've written fic properly i rllly wanna get back into it

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