#& it's never the same. you're in a museum with a boy and the boy doesn't care about you

[elytrafemme]

what they don't tell you about university is you'll feel so fucking free & you can walk outside and the weather's always more tolerable here than it is back at home & you'll see kids outside and think you're the toughest shit in the world and yet they're somehow tougher & you'll start paying way more attention to the color of rivers because water's so much murkier back where you're from & the words of your halfway dialect jump out more because everyone's a northerner and if nobody's around to say i reckon to you then you've gotta say it yourself & your people are all sober & your people are all not & the songs you listen to solely exist to make you feel like a bad bitch who's not about to kill themself & you watch shitty movies and then read two papers but still make it in time for breakfast & people cold call for some fucking reason to ask you where to catch the bus & there's always a game happening on the field with people you don't give a fuck about & you don't remember what it's actually like to be loved but if you try hard enough to be liked maybe you'll forget the absence & you break up with the only person who made you feel safe and don't give a single shit & your professor is like your dad but at least he uses the right pronouns & the kind boy is maybe a kind boy to everyone but you & you're free like the birds that fly in flocks & shit your carbon footprint's fucked with all the public transport & at least you're going somewhere & at least people talk to you & you're never gonna go back to when you were safe and loved with her hand running through your hair and your dad picking you up while old rock plays on the radio.

but there's a dog somewhere on campus & at least the voice on the metro seems to like you & if you take a walk late at night with the apple you grabbed from the dining hall, you'll feel a little bit like a criminal and all the way incomplete.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Fluttering [Teaser]

What will it take for him to finally get you to look his way for more than just a fleeting smile?

Tags/Warnings: kind of arrogant!Jungkook, Fboy!Jungkook turned devoted lover, Idol!Jungkook, angst, teasing, flirting, adult themes such as smut, JK being humbled

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So that's not enough, huh?

Everyone cracks at the prospect of expensive gifts at some point, and he knows this best. They all end up in his bed at the end of the day, even if they say they're not that kind of girl. Some neatly packed Dior packages sent to their door with a sweetly written card inside the boxes, and they usually all repay his kindness with time spent in his bed, gasping for air at his demonstration of his capabilities at being a lover worth his title.

He's a singer. A songwriter too, if he wants to be- so of course he can always find the right words to create a siren song tailored to anyone he'd love to have beneath him.

And he will find the right words for your ears too, sooner or later.

They all just want him to work for it, and he's willing because of course he is. He's not some kind of dumb boy who needs to persuade his victims into something they don't want- down the line, he only plays with the girls that willingly participate in the game of chase.

They all make the first step, after all. He's never the one to initiate- he doesn't have to. Which is why you're so confusing- giving him signals at first, just to back out later, shamelessly turning him down like you changed your mind.

But he knows you didn't. He's heard you talk to Jimin, has read the text you sent him last week about him. He's your type, and you're interested, surely- but not in what he typically offers.

You want something lasting. You want him to stay.

He's walking down the way he was told with confidence, well aware of how his body is shaped and proportioned. You've once compared him to one of the marble statues you saw at the Louvre museum in paris, back when you both didn't even know each other. He'd jokes that he's packing a lot more than those statues between his legs, trying to flirt in his usual boyish tone-

But you had just laughed. Nothing else. No shyness found in your face whatsoever.

So he bought you gifts he believed you'd like- but even then, after you had told him that he couldn't buy your affection with things like that, he'd apparently missed the mark and believed you were someone you're not. So he bit the bone, like a starving dog.

What does it take to get you to crack? How long can you keep this up?

You're standing with the staff next to the man with the dynamic camera, watching him, and it makes him feel some type of way he can't quite put his finger on. He's putting even me effort into this scene as he would typically- showing off not just his physique, but also his confidence in it, playing into it all with ease and full force. It's like he's dancing in the moment, with no one but time and the thought of you one day giving him the attention he so dearly craves.

His fingers tap over the piano keys so delicately that he hopes you can see the close up shot on the small screen of the camera next to you. It's with the same nature that he would touch you, for sure. He'd worship your body, treat it with hands soft and kind, if you want him to. Or he could be a little rough, and show you how it feels like to be played just like this instrument, where he taps the last key, fingers dancing.

They could do so much more to you, if you'd just let him.

And one look tells him that you're not watching the screen, but him- eye contact heated, but not from anger or shyness. No, that glimmer in your eyes tells him that he's finally caught your attention, finally you're looking at him with a similar sense of interest that he has inside his bones as well.

He's long lost interest in anyone else easily willing. He wants you.

He wants you to want him too. He wants to ruin you, wants to show you that there is no one else but him that has what it takes to be deserving to be at your side. It might've all begun with him just wanting to ruin you, hear you beg for him and fall for his pretty face like many others before-

But by now, he just wants you, seven days a week, every hour of the day if he can. Devotion to one single thing has never been easy for him, interests changing and switching all the time like channels on a TV whenever there's nothing good to watch. But you? You’re his first constant. Never changing. A craving never satisfied by anything else. A thought he can't push from his mind.

You think he can't devote himself to you, can't turn only to you, and be loyal. And of course, his past behavior does not really support his claim he made towards you that he could do just that- but he wants to at least try. he knows he can do it, if you were to just let him show you how deep his devotion can run if he was given the chance. You're just what he wants, every minute spent together no time wasted in his eyes, even if you just sit in silence.

He wants you.

He wants to have your heart fluttering just like you cause his to do the same.

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 3)

If you guys like it, I would greatly appreciate a reblog, it helps spread this fanfic around🫶

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest Part 3 is here!!

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You weren't sure how things would go with Billy after that night. Technically, you still owe him for the day at the museum, There are parts of Hawkins he hadn’t seen yet. Plus, you hadn’t talked about when or if you’d see each other again outside of school. So, it's a surprise when the following week, as you're grabbing books from your locker, you feel a presence behind you—the warmth of someone's body lightly brushing against your back. You look up and see a hand resting on your locker. Turning around, you met his curious and slightly amused eyes. 

"Oh! Hey, you scared me…”

"I saw that," he replies. "Am I that ugly?"

You stay still, feeling the cold metal of the locker against your back, aware that some students are probably watching you. But Billy doesn't seem bothered by this; if anything, he seems indifferent. He's wearing the same black leather jacket he lent you the other night, over a partially unbuttoned black shirt. He knows he’s not ugly, and you know he’s teasing you. But his closeness throws you off, and you can’t find the words to play along. You stumble over a nonsensical and incomplete sentence. Meanwhile, he takes the books from your hands and moves his hand away from the locker, finally giving you space, and it feels like you can breathe again.

"Physics?" he asks, looking at the first book on the pile in his hands.

"Uh, yeah." You turn to close your locker, taking the opportunity to pull yourself together. "It's my first class, actually."

"Sweet. I'll walk you there."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." You struggle to hide your astonishment as you walk toward the classroom with him beside you.

And during the following days, he does the same. He makes it seem so natural that it slowly becomes routine for you. In history class, he sits next to you. During lunch break, you sit at the table at the back of the cafeteria. He always sits at a table next to Jason Carver, Chrissy Cunningham, and other popular jocks, but between bites of food, he always gives you a look. Eventually, at the end of the meal, he always gets up from their table and comes over to sit beside you. In history class, he always sits next to you. Strangely, Tommy Hagan makes no comment. After the first few times, the rest of the class seems to get used to it.

When the history teacher assigns the paired presentation on "The Role of Propaganda in World War II," the teacher lets you choose your partner. Billy and you are already sitting next to each other, so it’s automatic that you’ll work together. Part of you doubt he would choose to work with you if he wasn’t sitting next to you, but you decide not to think about it too much. You don’t mind the idea of working with him on the project. He offers to work on it at his place the following Saturday, as his dad and stepmom are in California for family matters.

It takes you twenty minutes to reach Cherry Lane. Billy’s house is about halfway there. His navy blue Camaro is parked out front, and as you approach, you see him on the opposite side of the car, rubbing a sponge against the back window. It’s warmer than usual, and he’s wearing a white tank top with basketball shorts. He notices you approaching and greets you with a nod, a cigarette clutched between his lips.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you greet back. You see a young red-haired girl walking past Billy. She has a skateboard under her arm, baggy jeans, and a short-sleeved T-shirt. She sees you, momentarily startled, and slows down, her blue eyes scanning you with detachment. Billy walks in the open garage, leaving you alone with her. You greet her with a hesitant wave of your hand, introducing yourself.

“I’m Max,” she replies. She must be Billy’s stepsister. He mentioned her a couple of times.

“Did you bring the books?” Billy returns with a bucket of water, setting it down beside the car.

You lift your linen shoulder bag slightly, indicating that your books are in there.

You feel Max’s eyes on you. Her blue eyes soften slightly, and she seems to recognize something. “You’re the girl who called last week, right?”

"Yes, that's me," you nod with a small smile. 

Max nods in acknowledgment, silently. She then sets the skater down on the ground. “You’re the first one who comes over to actually study.” 

An embarrassed smile breaks out on your face at her innuendo and you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. The image of Billy with a girl while...no, you can't think about it.

“Piss off, Max,” Billy grumbles around his cigarette as he squeezes the sponge over the bucket, then jostles it twice to get rid of the water before scrubbing the windshield. 

Max rolls her eyes, but steps on her skateboard. She gives you a small smile. “See you.”

“Bye, Max.” you watch her skate away along the road.

“And don’t go too far,” Billy calls over the roof of the Camaro.

For a moment you get lost watching how the muscles of his back move under the tank top as he rubs the side of the car sponge.

“Almost done.” he calls over his shoulder. 

“You’re taking good care of it.” you observe as you approach the car, your hands tucked into your back pockets.

“You bet your sweet life I do. This baby cost me a good amount of money.” 

“When did you buy it?” you lean against the tree near the uneven stone steps leading up to the entrance of his house.

Billy takes the cigarette from between his lips, puffing some smoke into the air. “I was sixteen. Worked at a garage near my house for a couple of years before that. The owner found her after being on the hunt for months. She had roughly 10,000 miles on her already and was a little banged up. So, I had to use my savings and kept working there for a few months to pay for the repairs.”

He puts the cigarette back between his lips and pours the bucket of water over the car, washing off the soap. Then he takes a few steps backward until he’s next to you as he takes in the newly washed car.

“Not bad, huh?” 

“She’s really pretty.” you confirm with a nod. 

You've never been particularly enthused with cars, but you must admit that Billy's Camaro stands out in Hawkins. Moreover, the care he takes of it only enhances its shiny navy blue colour.

“Just like you.” 

You turn toward him, caught by surprise by his comment. As you do, he’s just taking the cigarette from his mouth after another drag, his eyes revealing a faint warmth that’s hard to perceive, blurred by the seemingly bored look his long lashes give him. But you see it. Even if for a second, you see it. The smoke curls lazily around him.

He luckily saves you from any clumsy answer, jerking his chin toward the house. “Come on, let’s get inside.”  

You hum while nodding in obligement, walking toward the house so he can avoid your flustered expression. Billy follows closely behind you, resting his hand on the back of your neck as you walk up the stone steps. He’s been doing that quite a few times. It’s nothing crazy, not an open hug or anything, but to you, his touch makes your heart glow and fills you with a comforting warmth. The house has a front screened porch, where two plants in a pot rest on the floor. You spot a grey rocking chair on the right side. 

“I like it.” you say. You wish you had a porch.

“Yeah, sometimes Max sits over there to read.” 

It’s a simple house, you notice, with modest furnishings. You both walk into Billy’s room, and you take in your surroundings. It’s a simple room. Apart from his bed, a few pieces of furniture, a mirror, and a wardrobe, there are things distinctly him that give the room character and warmth. Hanging on the wall are posters of bands like Metallica and Mötley Crüe. You also notice a stereo with two speakers. On the fireplace, there are some books.

“You brought it with you?” you ask with a smile, pointing to a yellow surfboard fading to green, leaning against the wall.

Billy sits on the bed, leaning his back against the wall. “Yes. It was out of the question for me to leave it in Cali.” with a wave of his hand, he invites you to come and sit next to him. 

You sit gingerly on the bed, books on your lap as he pops a piece of chewing gum into his mouth and offers you one. You take it, thanking him. Sitting so close, the warmth of his body seems to transfer directly from his thigh to yours.

“Are you gonna go back?” you ask, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You pull your pencil case and a notepad out of your bag.

Billy snorts. “Hell yeah. I’m not staying here.”

It shouldn’t, but his statement stings a little. At the end of the school year, he will leave. After all, it was a foregone conclusion. There’s nothing to keep him here; his home is in California. He never told you specifically why he moved here. You had asked, jokingly, if his parents wanted "a change of air," and he had replied, ‘Something like that,’ without adding any explanation. So you had not pressed the issue any further. You learned that about certain things, Billy did not feel like talking. He clams up even more. If he wants to, you decide, he will open up to you.

“Yeah, I get it.” 

“Might work during the summer to save some money, though.” 

“There’s a garage downtown.” you offer, remembering what he said earlier.

“I was thinking more about the pool. Heard they pay very well.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah. Heather works there during summers,” he says, grabbing the history book from his bedside table and putting it on his lap.

“Heather Holloway?”’ you ask, your finger lingering along the edge of your notepad. 

There is only one Heather at school. Billy must be talking about her. She’s a pretty girl who comes from a good family. Her dad owns the Hawkins Post. She’s got it all.

“Yeah, you know her?”

“Oh, not directly. But yes, I know her. Her dad is pretty respected in town.” you bite your lip, fighting the urge to ask how he knows her. Are they friends? Did he date her? Is he still dating her?

You conclude it's none of your business, and thinking about it makes you feel weird. So you change the subject, finally opening the book and proposing to start working on the project. In between, you see Max walking past his room from the open door, her skateboard under her arm. After an hour of working, Billy stretches and a yawn escapes you. He lights a cigarette, inspiring a long puff of smoke, and titls his head up, looking at the ceiling. When he exhales, he also seems to sigh with relief. You realize how much smoking seems to be a way for him to relax, a need. 

“When did you start smoking?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Then immediately rush on adding “If you don’t mind me asking”.

“Must’ve been fourteen.” he says, “A friend of mine, Wayne, had been smoking for a year or so. Tried from his cig’ once, never went a day without smoking from there.” 

You hum pensively. 

Billy lolls his head to the side, a lazy smile plastered on his face. “You must think I’m fucking up my health, huh?”

“No, no.” you shake your head. Then you reconsider. “I mean…yes,” at which Billy starts laughing, a low gravelly laugh. “But, I know it must be hard to stop too, once you start. I can’t know, I’ve never tried.”

A second later, his cigarette appears in front of your eyes. He arches an eyebrow at you, looking at you expectantly. 

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Ah, come on. It’s not like you’re gonna get addicted after one drag. Live a little.” he gently nudges your thigh with his. 

You look at the cigarette with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. You've always wanted to try it, not because you want to start smoking, but just to confirm if it tastes bad so you can put the thought to rest.

“Okay. Just once, though.” you gingerly take the cigarette from between his fingers, holding it awkwardly and feeling as if it might fall off any second. You bring it to your lips, feeling his eyes on you. 

“Take it slow.”

It’s easier said than done. As soon as you breathe in the smoke, the end of the cigarette burning bright orange wildly, your lungs get filled with an unbearably burning sensation. You feel on fire. You can’t breathe. You start coughing non-repeatedly, your vision going blurred. 

Billy laughs again, taking the cigarette from your fingers as you try to fill your lungs with air. “Jesus, I said to take it slow.” 

Your face turns red from the effort, and your eyes water. You can't help but glare at him briefly as tears escape, your nose scrunching in disgust. He reaches out with his other hand, cups the side of your face, and gently brushes your tears away with his thumb.

“Breathe, now,” he says between chuckles.

“I don’t like it. It’s gross.” 

You say it both because you mean it and because it keeps you grounded under his touch. When he settles back against the wall, your heart keeps hammering against your ribcage.

"You're cute," he says before taking a drag, as if he's talking about the weather, and it only makes your flush an impossibly darker shade of red.

After he finishes his cigarette, Billy asks if you're hungry. You both head into the kitchen, and you sit at the table while he makes tuna sandwiches. He tells you it was the first thing he learned to make for himself when he was younger, back when his father used to work late before marrying Max's mother. He had to fend for himself. Over time, he learned to cook more dishes, especially when his father and stepmother were away for the weekend or running errands. A few years ago, he started weightlifting, which motivated him to learn even more about cooking. Despite all that, he still enjoys tuna sandwiches. Billy puts the sandwiches in the toaster and serves them to you on plates. As you take a bite, the taste of pickles and mayonnaise gives it an extra kick. It's delicious.

“Hey, can you make me one too?” Max emerges from the hallway, leaning against the kitchen doorway. 

Billy looks up from the cutting board he’s chopping pickles on as he makes his own sandwich, scowling at her. “Make it yourself.”

“Come on, you know I’m not good at this.”

“Well, you better learn how to make it. It’s a fucking tuna sandwich, not rocket science.” 

Max sighs, almost exasperated. "Fine, you stubborn ass. I’ll make it myself, but don’t cry to me when your precious pickles are all gone."

Billy looks up, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Hey! Language," he chides, pointing the knife in her direction, as if he hadn't sworn himself just a moment ago. He then gestures toward the empty chair beside you. "And sit down, if you want me to do it.”

Max quietly sits down next to you, a cheeky smile plastered on her face. Billy mutters under his breath, resuming chopping down the pickles. 

“With loads of mayo, please.” 

You’ve never seen Billy in a step-brother role before, and the dynamic between them is intriguing. You're suddenly curious about their relationship and how it has evolved since they first met.

“You’re lucky I’m even making this for you,” he grumbles, spreading the mayo generously on the bread.

“This is really good.” you say, pointing at your sandwich. 

“Yeah, Billy’s tuna sandwiches are rad.” Maxine approves. Then she shrugs. “He's an asshole, but if there's one thing he's good at, it's cooking.”

“Woah, thanks Maxine.” he ironically says. “Really portraying me well here.” 

You chuckle softly under your breath as Max ignores him, carrying on. “Can I go to Family Video later? I need to give back the movies.”

“Later when?” he asks as he assembles her sandwich. “We gotta work on the school project.”

“Like, in an hour?” 

“You’ll have to wait ‘till I drop her home.” 

Max huffs. “C’mon, Billy. I can skate there, it’s mid afternoon.”

“Ain’t no way I’m letting you go there on your own. It’s on my ass that Neil will be then.”

“I’ll be back before they’re home!” she tries again. “And I’ll bring back some good stuff.” 

You watch as Billy sighs heavily, walking in silence over to the table and setting Max’s dish in front of her. Then he points his finger at her, looking at her hard. “I’m warning you. If you’re not back here by four we’re gonna have a serious problem.”

Max mutters something along the lines of “Yeah, jeez, okay” as Billy walks back toward the counter.

He shoots a mildly warning look over his shoulder, his eyes glinting sharply. “And you better bring back some good stuff this time.”

Max gasps in outragement. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“It was crap.” 

Max turns toward you. “Have you watched Children of the Corn?”

“I don’t think I have.” you say. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a horror movie.”  

“Oh. I don’t really watch horror movies.” you smile sheepishly.  “Too scary, I can’t sleep for months then. I’m more into comedies or romances.”

“Those aren’t bad once in a while.” Max agrees. “We mostly watch horrors, but sometimes we happen to watch romances too.”

“You watch rom-coms,” Billy stresses out, as he adds the tuna-mayonnaise mix to his toast. 

“Please. How many times did you stay on the couch until the end?

“That’s because the NBA played later at night.” 

Max arches an eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh, really? And what about all those times you pretended to get a snack from the fridge, and I caught you hanging around in the hallway, peeking at the screen?"

“Are you eating or not?” Billy cuts her, “Tic tac, shitbird. You better hurry to the videostore before I change my mind.”

It’s hard for you to hold your laugh. You look down at your plate at your half-eaten sandwich, hearing him approaching with his plate.

Max huffs loudly, standing and grabbing her plate. “Whatever. See you.”

She waves at you before disappearing in the hallway. 

“See you, Max.”

Billy sits down beside you with a sigh, taking the spot where Max was just sitting. He immediately starts eating his sandwich, and you notice he eats much faster than you. You try not to let your eyes linger on his biceps as he leans forward to take another big bite, crumbs falling onto his plate. You repeat to him that his sandwich is really good, mentioning that when you make it at home, it’s usually dry and tasteless. You just don’t know how to combine the right things, and it gets boring.

“She seems to care about you a lot,” you observe as you both finish eating, referring to Max.

Billy rubs the back of his neck, a sigh leaving his lips. Then he leans back on the chair. “Yeah. Things weren’t, ah…things are better now.”

“You didn’t get along at first?” you tentatively ask.   

“Yeah, not really. Moving together was tough. But I was a dick back then.”

“You?”

You can kind of see it, but the person he’s shown to you is the opposite of what he’s describing. 

“Believe me, sweetheart.” he shakes his head, a rueful smirk on his face. "I'm no saint now, but you're lucky we didn't meet when I was younger.”

“I’m sure you didn’t have it easy.” you offer. 

“Well, Max didn’t either. Her dad doesn’t give a crap about her, her mom only dated assholes before my old man. Then she meets him, thinks she hit the jackpot, turns out he can compete against all of the previous ones together. They really found each other.”

“Is she bad?”

Billy shrugs. “Nah, just weak. And Neil has his way easy with weak people. He found the right woman to mold between his hands like he wants to.”

You listen to him attentively, your hand supporting your head as you rest your elbow on the table, facing him. Neil must be his dad. There’s always some distance, and coldness in the way he speaks about him. He never once referred to him as his dad. 

“It must’ve been hard for her…” you recognize. “Especially being that young.”

Billy stands, grabbing the three dishes as he grimaces. “Yeah, I was so wrapped up in my own anger that I completely overlooked that,” he says as he drops them in the sink, and then starts washing them. You stand up and bring him the two empty glasses. “Just didn’t want any of that crap. Moving in with these people I’ve barely seen a couple of times and act like a happy little family. Fuck that.” 

“Then the move…” you supply. 

"Then the move. Blamed her for all of it. Especially for the move, when in reality the whole thing was my fault. But yeah." 

Your eyes fall on his hand, noticing the harsh way he’s scrubbing the glasses with the sponge. You wonder what happened. What caused the move? What could Billy have done? You don’t want to press on it further, realizing how you could easily touch a sensitive nerve.

“Well, you seem to take good care of her. And I see how she looks at you.”

You could swear for a moment he's caught off guard, almost uncomfortable. Then he sniffs, drying his hands with a towel, his eyes wandering outside the kitchen window. "Yeah, trying to make up for all of it. It’s best to stick together in this crazy house."

There is something about all of this that puts you on edge, makes your skin prickle. Something unsettling is happening in this family. There are subtle but numerous hints you pick up on in your interactions with Billy. It's a month later that you uncover the ugly truth.

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A couple of weeks later May finally arrives, bringing longer days and warmer weather. You can already breathe in the summer air. The trailer park seems a little less gloomy now, with trees in bloom and green grass. In the evening, you hear crickets singing from the open hayloft in the kitchen or your room. On clear, sunny weekends, you and Billy go to Lovers Lake. It's not warm enough to swim yet, but you lie on the shore or on one of the deserted docks. You often do your homework or read while Billy smokes a cigarette or dozes. Your relationship has progressed; you feel much more comfortable around him. Though you don't know each other completely yet, you've gone out enough times to welcome the occasional silence, which no longer frightens you. Slowly, you feel yourself shedding layers of your shell. You think you can consider yourselves friends.

You were supposed to hang out that morning. He was meant to come over to study at your place before heading to Lovers Lake as planned. However, today, the familiar rumble of the Camaro doesn't show up. After a few hours of hesitation, you try calling his house. A man answers, presumably Billy's dad, and informs you that Billy is not home. The rest of the day passes in anxious waiting, but Billy never arrives. You try to push away thoughts of the worst-case scenario, but as the hours drag on, those fears keep creeping back. By Sunday, still no word from him. Billy has always been the opposite of what you expected—he never ignored you at school, never stood you up. Yet now, your fear seems to be materializing. Perhaps he's grown tired of you and found more captivating company. You wonder what you could possibly offer him. You're not as interesting or outgoing as his basketball team friends, nor do you provide the same entertainment as the high school girls he's dated, or might still be dating. Perhaps he's realized that after delving beneath the surface, there's nothing particularly captivating about you.

At dinner, your dad notices something is bothering you and asks what's wrong. You barely touch your plate, feeling like an amoeba. But he's dead tired from his factory shift, and you don't want to burden him with your worries, so you lie and tell him that you're not feeling well. Later, he rises from the sofa, gives you a kiss on the head, and advises you not to stay up too late before retiring to his room. Despite the sound of the TV in the background, you feel lonelier than ever, and the resignation settling over you is almost worse than the whirlwind of emotions you've experienced all day. Hours pass, and you start to doze off curled up on the sofa, the movie you started barely catching your attention. Then, you're jolted awake by the roar of a familiar engine outside the trailer. It's as if a shot of adrenaline has pierced through your lethargy. You sit up abruptly, heart racing, straining your ears to confirm what you've heard. The noise ceases, prompting you to hurry to the door, moving slowly to avoid disturbing your sleeping dad. Your heart skips a beat when, through the window, you spot Billy's familiar silhouette in the dim light cast by the bulb outside.

When you open the door, Billy seems momentarily surprised to see you. As if he didn't expect you to open it so promptly. But then that expression is washed away by his usual smirk.

“You sure were waiting for me, huh?”

You stifle a gasp of horror at the sight of his bruised and battered face, instinctively bringing your hands to your mouth to muffle any sound that might wake your father. To say he's in a bad state would be an understatement.

"Oh my God, Billy."

Closing the front door softly behind you, you step out into the night air, standing in front of him, your concern palpable.

"Good to see you too," he jokes, but his playful expression fades as he realizes his attempt to lighten the mood isn't working.

"Oh God..."

You draw closer, taking in his state. There’s an angry bruise around his left eye, dark purple and almost black, with hints of red and blue around the edges, swollen and puffy. Traces of dried blood linger around his nostrils, and his nose is swollen, the bridge as purple as the area under his eye.

"It's fine," he says.

"Sorry... can I just..." setting aside your shyness, you gently take his face in your hands, tilting his head slightly backward. You won’t fail to notice his small wince as you do so. His lip is cut and swollen. "Does it hurt a lot?"

“Nah. It’s okay.”

"What happened?" you ask softly as you brush his chin with your thumb, almost afraid of causing him further pain.

Billy doesn't seem concerned at all, contrasting with your likely alarmed expression. He looks almost unfazed, the corners of his eyes crinkling into his usual amused expression.

"Got into a fight with a guy. He was just drunk, and I was there."

You frown in confusion. "Were you... at a bar or something?"

"Yeah, I uh...at the pub downtown. Just happened to cross paths with him. He thought I was looking at his girl or something."

"A major dick," you mutter under your breath, your eyes still scanning his cut. It looks deep, like the blood struggled to stop flowing. There's still some dried blood on his chin.

Billy chuckles, then after a moment, he speaks quietly, "Yeah, a major dick. Got him good, though."

“You didn’t clean it. It’s going to get infected, I’ll quickly get…”

“S’fine, really.” while exhaling a sigh through his nose, his hand encircles your wrists, prying yours gently away. 

You lower your gaze to his hands to examine the damage there. But that’s when you notice it. His knuckles are completely fine. There isn’t a single cut on them.

“Billy…” you hold his hands, then look at him.

He seems to pick up on what you’re thinking because he pulls his hands away, scratching his nose with his knuckles, acting as nonchalant as ever. You notice how his hands seem to twitch, like he’s got this nervousness he can’t shake off. As if he’s itching for something. Itching for a smoke. 

“I’m gonna clean it when I get home. Wanna go to the quarry? I’ve got some sweets Max forgot in the car earlier,” he suggests, nodding towards the Camaro parked behind him at the beginning of the trailer park. It's likely he didn’t want to wake anyone, especially your dad, given how late it is.

“But…”

“Sweetheart. Please,” he cuts you off. You freeze in place at the harsher tone of his last word. Billy sighs, running a hand through his curls. “M’sorry. Can we just not talk about it?” he looks tired, but not physically tired—mentally tired. You can sense the exhaustion in his gaze, a silent plea underlying his question.

A twist forms in your stomach as the reality sinks in. It confirms that something very wrong, something dark, is happening in his life. You begin to reflect on how you might have overlooked the signs. You feel the urge to ask him if the person causing him harm is who you suspect. You want to help him. But you push down those thoughts and emotions.

“Okay. Okay, of course,” you softly say. “Can I just go and grab the first-aid kit before we leave? Please.”

Billy clenches his jaw and looks away. You can see how hard this must be for him, and the last thing you want is for him to feel like he can't be vulnerable around you. 

“All right.” he finally says.

After quietly retrieving the first aid kit, you get into the car with Billy. You’re not too worried about your father waking up since he sleeps like a rock, and it’s a Friday night after all. The car ride to the quarry is unusually silent. You try to break the ice by asking Billy how the basketball game went a few days ago or how Max liked the movie you recommended the last time you saw her. However, Billy responds with noncommittal short answers, clearly not fully present in the moment. Something must be weighing heavily on his mind. Sensing his mood, you decide to fill the silence by sharing what you’ve been up to lately. You mention that your father's co-worker, Wayne Munson, who lives in the trailer right across the street, came over for coffee the other day. Wayne has a son who’s a year or two older than you. You’ve never really talked to him, as he tends to keep to himself, but he seems nice enough. Now that the weather is warmer, you often see him sitting on the porch of his trailer, either smoking or reading a book. He always greets you when you walk by or take out the trash. You know he struggled in school, having flunked twice in his senior year, but he graduated last year and now works as a mechanic downtown. Talking about the mechanic job seems to catch Billy’s interest. You remind him of the conversation you had a while back when he mentioned wanting to work as a mechanic during the summer. Billy starts to loosen up and tells you that he plans to stop by the car shop in the next few days.

On this warm night, the air is balmy and filled with the earthy scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh foliage. As he has a couple of times before, Billy parks the car near the edge of the quarry, just where the thick line of trees begins. Gravel crunches softly under the tires, the only sound of the quiet evening.

The towering trees cast shadows blurred in the moonlight, their leaves rustling softly in the warm breeze. Before he can say anything, you open the first-aid kit on your lap and gently shush him when he objects. As you gently clean the dried blood around his nostrils and the cut on his lip with an antiseptic wipe, Billy winces slightly but doesn’t pull away. You then apply a bit of the antibiotic ointment to the wounds to prevent infection. Finally, you use a gauze pad to gently dab at the bruised areas, careful not to press too hard. Throughout the process, Billy remains mostly silent, his eyes closed, occasionally taking a deep breath. The temperature feels good outside, so once you’re finished you both get out of the car. Billy rounds the car and sits on the ground with a wince, resting his back against the side of the car. So you do the same. You stand in front of the quarry. Under the pale light of the crescent moon, the quarry walls loom like ancient sentinels, their rough surfaces casting long, mysterious shadows. The water at the bottom of the quarry is a dark, mirror-like expanse, reflecting the twinkling stars above.

"Here," Billy says, holding up some green candy canes along with a pack of cigarettes. It looks different from his usual pack of Marlboro Reds, but you don’t think much of it initially.

"What flavor is it?" you ask, taking one of the candies from the packet.

"Must be sour apple."

As you begin to chew, the taste of apple indeed invades your taste buds. From the corner of your eye, you see Billy pull a cigarette out of the pack, then hear him swear.

"Shit." Billy curses. "That's a candy. Didn’t even notice it."

You see the candy cigarette between Billy's fingers and an amused chuckle escapes your lips.

"Don't worry, it's an easy mistake. Guess even tough guys can mix up their vices sometimes."

That makes him snort a quiet laugh, and even if it’s without a real smile and it’s short-lived, you managed to make him laugh a bit.

Billy leans his head against the metal of the Camaro, his hand holding the lighter dropping to his thigh. "They must be in the car."

He must be referring to his cigarettes. You remain silent for a few seconds, contemplating whether to offer to go get them for him. You look at his tired profile: eyes closed, head resting against the car, throat exposed, Adam's apple slightly prominent. Looking at his bruised face makes your stomach twist with concern, your heart sinking. At least his wounds are clean now. You feel the urge to reach out and brush aside the curl that falls over his eye. But you don’t. Instead, your gaze shifts to the quarry.

“You’ve been really smoking a lot, Billy.” 

Your words slip out quietly, as if afraid of disrupting the fragile balance of the evening. You’ve observed Billy smoking ever since you met him. Lately, though, you’ve noticed how his fingers are more often occupied by a cigarette than free of it. You’ve seen his nervous fidgeting in class—how he jitters his knee, taps the rubber end of his pencil on the desk, scratches his stubble with his knuckles, and frequently shifts position in his chair. And now, whenever you’re together, he’s pulling one out from his pack at least once.

Billy opens his eyes slightly, glancing at you. He sighs and looks away, his expression hardening a bit. "Yeah, well, it helps," he says gruffly, but there's a hint of something softer in his voice. "Don't worry about it. I'll cut back... someday."

He sees the probably worried look on your face. He’s so young, and he smokes already this much. You don’t even realize how you’re worrying at your lip. 

“I’ll try and slow down, alright?” 

You nod hesitantly as he offers you a cigarette candy that you take. 

“Just ‘cause you can't stand the smell of smoke.” he teases you, his eyes sleepy and slightly amused. 

“What? I…that wasn’t…” you stutter, feeling embarrassed he caught you. “That’s not why I think you should stop! It’s for your health…”

“But it bothers you too,” a grin forms on his face as he reaches out, and before you can stop you he pinches right above your knee, making you jump and squeal in surprise. He’s learned how ticklish he makes you, and he’s never stopped teasing you with it ever since. l “I know you do.”

“Stop! Stop it!” 

“You alway scrunch up your nose like it’s the most disgusting thing in the world.”

“Stop it, okay!” you try to free your leg with a high-pitched laugh as he tries to pinch you again. “You’re right, I hate it! Hands off, now.”  

You push his hand away as he finally relents, trying to catch your breath. Billy shakes his head in amusement. He tugs at his candy stick with his teeth.

“Knew it,” he says. 

You simply take another candy from his hands, avoiding his gaze as he chews on his. You’re hyper-aware of how flushed you are now, embarrassed that he noticed. You didn't want him to realize that his smoking bothered you.

“I haven’t even realized I do that…” you then say, breaking through the quiet.

“It’s kinda cute.”

His comment makes your heart race and your face flush even more. You glance down, fiddling with the wrapper of the candy in your hand. “Thanks”, you mumble softly, barely audible.

“You sure as hell would make a good nurse.” he mumbles then, shifting his position, wincing a bit and you notice how he brushes his hand over his left side. “All caring and everything. You took care of my wounds pretty well.”

If it wasn’t for what he just said, you would ask him if he got hurt there as well. You try to mask your embarrassment with a casual shrug. "I don't think I'd like being a nurse," you say, managing to keep your voice steady. "Too much pressure and responsibility."

Billy nods, taking your words in stride. "Fair enough," he says. "Then what would you like to be?”

You let out a soft sigh, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the question. "I don't know," you admit, staring down at your hands. "It's hard to figure out."

"Tell you what, it’s pretty simple," Billy says. "What do you like?”

You lift your eyes from your hands, a bit surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”

Billy pops another candy in his mouth. “See, I like cars and I’m pretty good at working on them. So, I know I’m gonna be a mechanic.” he lazily gestures at himself, then at you. “What do you like?”

You ponder his question for a moment, thinking about the things that bring you joy. "I like to take pictures," you say finally. "Especially portraits of people. Capturing their expressions, their emotions... it feels special."

"Then you should be a photographer," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

You smile at his straightforwardness, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Maybe," you say, considering the possibility.

Billy leans his head back against the car. "You know, the guy I was working for in San Diego once told me something," he says. "He said that at the end of the day, it's simple. You need to find something you like and you're really good at, then make it your job. That's how you'll make it in life."

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. "That makes sense," you say softly. 

Photography has always been your favorite hobby. Until recent dramatic events, you used to do it a lot. You have a lot of pictures in the drawer of your desk. Billy tells you he wants you to show them to him sometime. He also says it’s a shame you stopped and that you should start doing it again. You haven’t spoken specifically about your mom leaving yet. You’ve noticed he’s very sensitive about it, careful not to push your boundaries. He’s never asked questions. However, tonight he simply tells you that if photography makes you happy, it’s important to not give up on it, as passions have a way of pulling us through hard times.  You realize how Billy has a way of making things simpler, of helping you see what's important. And in that moment, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in your life.

You stay at the quarry until two am, and it’s when you start yawning repeatedly that Billy says it’s time to go. Sitting in the car, despite the warm weather, feels good as the night has gotten chilly. You feel sleepy, but nonetheless, you continue to think about the current situation. You don’t want Billy to go home, there’s something that makes you feel on the edge, you want to talk about it with him so bad but don’t even know how to approach the subject. Despite that, sleep starts to take over you, but once halfway through the ride to the trailer park, a brownish silhouette crosses the road in front of you.

“The fuck.” Billy floors both the clutch and the brakes, and you’re thankful for having your seatbelt on. Your body slams forward and back again, and you hit your head against the headrest for the impact. 

A deer, froze into place a few seconds before, rushes toward the the other side of the road, running wildly and disappearing through the trees.

“Ouch.” 

Billy heaves a loud sigh. “God…frickin’ stupid forest.” 

Your heartbeats slow down as you recover from the surprise, your hand feeling the back of your head. 

“Yeah, we have lots of them here,” you mumble. 

“Jesus.” he looks then at you. “You alright?” 

His hand comes up, touching yours so you drop it. He gently rests it on the back of your head where it still throbs. It’s warm and big. He literally could crush you if he wanted to. But his touch is soft. 

“It’s fine.” you squeak, the sudden touch making you burn. 

“Hurts a lot?” he mutters’, his thumb petting the skin at the nape of your neck. 

“A little bit. It’s gonna pass.”

“Alright.” he relents after a few seconds, then pushes on the gas again. 

The remainder of the car journey passes in silence. Billy stops exactly where he had stopped before, the headlights briefly illuminating the 'Forest Hills' panel before he switches off the engine. Darkness envelops you, blending with the night's silence and the quiet of the car. You're not quite sure what to say. You're uncertain how to bid him farewell. Truth be told, you have no desire to say goodbye to him. The last thing you want is to let him go, sensing that he will likely return to danger as soon as you step into the house. 

"I'm sorry," he says, breaking through the quiet.

You turn toward him, confusion and surprise evident in your expression. "For what?"

"For standing you up."

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not though.” you can see him shake his head from the corner of your eye. “That was a dick move. Could’ve at least called you.” 

Turning your whole body towards him, you lean against the passenger seat. Now that a couple of hours have passed, his eye is swollen and darker.

"Billy, it's okay. Really. I know you..." you hesitate, then look down at your hands, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. You try to find the right words, careful not to touch the subject again, especially not to delve into details. "I know you weren't at the pub earlier."

At these words, Billy turns his head and looks away, towards the window. Sensing his discomfort, you hurriedly continue speaking. "And that's alright. I don't need you to explain yourself to me. I get it. I just want you to know that I know. 

Tentatively, you extend your hand towards his, resting on the shift gear. Holding your breath, you anticipate a possible rejection. 

“And I understand."

Billy doesn't shoo you away but remains as still as a statue, his elbow resting against the window, his knuckles against his mouth. Your heart tightens as you imagine the pain hidden beneath the shield he wears, the horrors he must have endured so far. Just as you begin to release the pressure on his hand, preparing to withdraw, Billy sighs and turns his hand palm up, slipping his fingers between yours and squeezing. His touch is warm, sending an electric signal throughout your body, causing your heart to leap. Reassured by his welcoming touch, your thumb caresses the back of his hand.

“I know we haven’t known each other for long,” you say softly, careful not to disrupt the fragile connection between you. “But I care about you. And I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Billy rests his head against the headrest, his eyes closed. He squeezes your hand. “Thanks, sweetheart.” his voice is low and gravelly, as quiet as yours.

You stay like this for a moment, perhaps him relishing in the weight lifted by your confession, and you in his acceptance of your attempt to bridge the gap between you.

“I should go now.” you whisper, glancing at the house, though that’s the last thing you want to do. 

Billy releases his hand from your grip and then reaches for his pack of cigarettes in the center console, his gaze avoiding. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“Will you be okay?” you ask him. 

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Even as you look at him, Billy avoids making eye contact with you. He takes a cigarette, lighting it up, the flame piercing through the darkness and briefly illuminating his bruised face. It's as if he's peeled back one layer too many for his liking. You understand this, though it leaves you feeling distant from him. You miss the warmth he usually radiates. Quietly accepting the situation, you purse your lips and reach for the door handle. 

You glance back at him, failing to lock eyes with him as he exhales the smoke whilst tilting his head back. “Try to rest. And…uhm, call me if you need it. Please.”

Billy merely nods. “Yeah. Night.”

As you walk toward your house, the chilly night air envelops you, and you try to shake off the feeling of helplessness and emptiness that grips you. You're still trying to wrap your head around it, to accept the extent of his condition. It's kind of a shock.

As you hear his car door slam, you turn back to him.

"Did you forget something?" you ask, keeping your voice low as he approaches, the cigarette dangling between his fingers.

You don't understand his actions as he draws closer and closer, and for a second your body tenses, until he reaches out and pulls you toward him. It’s only when you’re pressed against his body that you realize he has his arms wrapped around you. Speechless, you allow your arms to encircle his neck, his face nuzzling into your neck, his breath mingling with your hair. You can sense the weight of unspoken words in the fierceness of his embrace, his forearms pressing against your back. Standing on your tiptoes to meet him, you ease the strain as he's slightly bent over you due to his height. But it doesn’t last long, so you simply allow yourself to be engulfed by his tall figure. You hope he can't feel how fast your heart is pounding against your chest, but at the same time, you find yourself not caring. Relief washes over you as the distance he had put between you earlier dissipates into the night air. And it feels good. You could easily get used to all of this. The butterflies in your stomach, the profound happiness as he’s everywhere, around you, against you. You realize that you could stay like this forever, and the thought scares you.

After what feels like an eternity, yet somehow not enough, he finally pulls away. Your hair is tangled with his, and with a gentle touch, he first separates his from yours. Then, with the same hand, he carefully sweeps your hair behind one of your shoulders. With his other arm releasing you, he taps the cigarette with his finger to release the ashes. His eyes carry a sleepy gaze, and this time you're certain they're sleepy in every sense of the word. Nonetheless, they bore into yours with the same overwhelming intensity.

“You sleep tight, okay?” 

You nod a couple of times, still speechless and unable to function by his proximity. 

As you watch his retreating form and assured stride, you feel your heartstrings pulling more strongly towards him with each step he takes, as if he's carrying your heart with him.

[minispidey]

04: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. previous part. series masterlist.

04. Breaking into a museum with Barbie!

warnings: breaking and entering??? none really.

note: italics are the boys in headspace talking ❤️

As usual, it was as if you and Steven were in sync: showering, preparing, and dressing up at the same time before walking towards your doors and opening them in unison.

"Steven!" you smiled brightly at him as you stepped out of your flat and locked it "Okay! I got our whole afternoon to dinner planned out. I made a list~"

"Alright." he laughs "What's first?"

You crumpled the paper and threw it behind you "Shopping." you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the elevator fast.

You drove to the nearest furniture shop and practically dragged Steven inside "Come on! You need a proper table. Just because it's doe-able doesn't mean it's good enough."

"I don't got the money, love."

"Who said you're paying?"

Steven was a moth to a flame. He loved the clear difference between you and him. You were this big ball of energy, a magnet pulling him in. You were a bit of a ditz, but you had an incredible job and lifestyle, and he was just a giftshopist.

Maybe he doesn't deserve you.

"Alright. No more self-sabotaging. Just enjoy your date." Marc said from the headspace, groaning.

"I'm trying." he mumbled. Steven watches you look at different dining tables, knocking and asking for other colors and types of wood.

"Gosh… I've always wanted one like that," he whispered to himself "A little too expensive, though. I could never ask you to–"

"Stevie, come on!" you giggled.

You went further into the back where there wasn't any staff and settled on an oak table "I think this is it!" you lifted yourself and sat on it, letting your slip-on heels fall with two clicks.

"Alright. It's-" Steven's eyes widened at the price "...pricey."

"It's my treat, Stevie. Consider it uh... a gift! To commemorate our date and many more to come, I hope?"

He blushes, nodding "Yeah! Of course." he sets his hand on the table, beside your thigh "Maybe, you know... dinner one of these nights? I'll cook you something."

"Smooth. Don't forget to breathe." Jake chuckled.

You started giggling "I can't say no to that. Totally! I didn't know you can cook."

"You can't." Marc sighs.

"Yeah, I can." Steven took his hand off the table and knelt in front of you taking your heels "What else do you have planned in that list of yours? Anything you wanna do's fine with me."

"Well, Vogue released an article for the top most romantic dates and one of them is at a museum! Which I would personally enjoy, but you already work there." you shrugged "How about we shop until my ankles bruise and top it off with dinner?"

"Woah there, love. Wouldn't want to ruin your shoes now, would you?" he joked as he slipped your heels on your feet.

"Gosh, you're so right! I should buy a new pair to replace these ones!"

It looked brand new to Steven which puzzled him for a second.

"Let's go pay— well, I'll pay— and I'll have it delivered tomorrow." you grab his hand and hop off the table, walking back to the front of the store and placing your credit card down "Put it in my card. We'll take the one in the back."

He watched you with a faint, incredulous smile as the cashier took the card and rang it up. You were a madwoman, a sweet, generous madwoman, and he was in love.

It wasn’t even that the table was expensive, though it was— it was that you’d do this for him that meant so much.

In fact… this wasn’t just his favorite date. It was one of his favorite moments he could remember.

What an enchanting woman you were.

The two of you stopped by a bookstore, dragging him inside. The comforting smell of the books relaxed you and you began to read the titles of the ones lined up on the shelves. One looked old and intrigued you. You took it out and smelled the pages, making Steven smile.

He wandered off on his own, spotting a couple of classic novels before stopping in front of the Egyptology area. Steven checks out a few books, skimming through the pages before the old shopkeep coughs and points at a no reading sign.

"Sorry." Steven closes the book before setting it down. You found him and took his hand, heading deeper into the shop "I wanna look for something."

"Something?"

"Classic. Also one of the reasons why I love romance."

"What's this mysterious book?" he chuckled.

"Pride and Prejudice." you smiled "A prideful shy arrogant man with bad social skills and a prejudiced independent young woman fall in love. The best enemies to lovers book to exist. But then again I didn't read it yet, I watched the movie and the series..."

"Really? Maybe I'll watch it some other day."

"Totally! So, Egyptian history books again?"

"Research. I donated off some of my books from the pile we made last week so I can get new ones. I promise I won't get more than five." he laughs, holding up three books he picked.

"Aw, good for you!"

You placed his purchased books into the back of your car and drove off with him "There were a couple'a Pride and Prejudice books back there. Why'd you didn't get one?"

"Well," you let out a sigh "I wanted to get like, the original one. As in, original release."

"Original release? When was it released?"

"Eighteen–thirteen I think."

Steven stops to think "Love, that book was published over two–hundred years ago."

"And?"

"I don't think you'd be-" he stops himself "Maybe you'll get lucky next time."

"I hope so!" you turn your head towards him "I've been wanting it for so long! Ever since I watched Kiera Knightley, I was never the same! That was love and I refuse to read Pride and Prejudice unless it's the original one."

Steven was worried when you took your eyes off the road and held on to the wheel "Careful!"

"Oops! Sorry~" you giggled as you turned your head back "We should go on a walk to the restaurant! Maybe just a few minutes away."

"We could." he nodded "I'm just worried about your shoes. Are you sure you want to walk on cobblestones in heels, love?"

"I'll be fine! It would be so romantic and-"

"-totes not amazing!" you whimpered while you sat down outside the restaurant and Steven was kneeling down to try and fix your heels.

You two finished eating your dinners and you were still mopey about your pretty pink heels "These were the cutest kitten heels I had and I forgot these were Tommy! It's so hard to find these."

"Sorry, love. I should've stopped you harder." Steven looked up at you.

"No, Stevie. It's fine. I'm the one who insisted on having a romantic walk." you sighed "Can you get the car?"

After a few minutes, he (Jake) managed to drive the car to the restaurant where you waited and he switched to Steven before getting out of the driver's seat. You got up before tripping down because of your broken heel.

"Love, are you alright?" Steven helps you up and slip off your heels.

"I'm okay..." you took your broken heels and opened the trunk of your car, tossing it in before taking out your emergency pink fluffy slippers.

You both entered the car and drove away. It was a quiet drive as you stared straight ahead with a frown, no sign of your usually happy and cheery self present.

Steven thought he ruined it. He should've helped you with the date but instead, he just laid back and let you do whatever. He felt bad. He shouldn't, but he did. Even Marc is trying to tell him the heel wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry, Stevie... I just wanted to have a really romantic and nice night and my heels ruined it..." you broke the silence a minute later.

"It's alright, love. You don't need to apologize. I enjoyed it anyways. All I really wanted was to be by your side..."

Your eyes lit up and the car slows down in the empty road "Really?"

"We don't even need to go out with a grand plan. Honestly, dates aren't my thing and I'm not good at it. But the times we just hang around in my flat are romantic to me." he smiled at you "Home-cooked dinner, a movie, and you."

You smiled back at him and you realized that he was the perfect man for you. You didn't want to let him go.

"What was that article again— oh, top best dates, right? A museum. Do you still want to go?"

You checked the time "Are you sure it's still open? It's already 10:43..."

"It will be." Steven held up a keychain. You kept staring at the key and he knew you didn't get it "We're gonna break in— well, not break in. I have the key, so. Not breaking in. Besides, I work there."

"Oh my gosh, Stevie!" you cover your mouth, smiling "Isn't this like, totes illegal?"

"Not if we don't get caught."

"Who are you and what did you do to Steven?" Jake laughed from the headspace. Steven ignored his comment and looked at you in the eyes.

"You know what? We've been doing what I want this whole time. Let's do it!" you drove off quickly, excited because of the idea. Steven was happy to see you smile again, and he was sure about his idea.

You parked away from the museum itself and both of you snuck to the door, Steven opening the locks with his keys. He opened it a bit and let you in. He shuts the door immediately and the museum is dark, but it amazes you.

You could still see the artifacts with the moonlight peeking in through the windows. You walked around and smiled as Steven talked about some of the artifacts in the Egypt gallery "And you work at the gift shop? Gosh. You could be a tour guide or something..."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Totes!" your voice echoed throughout the room "I mean, you should totally apply for it or something. Those books are paying off real well."

Before he knew it, hours passed and you sat in front of a statue, making you curious "Who's this?"

"That's a Caryatid. She was a pillar used to support a roof." Steven looks at it and sits next to you "Caryatid is Greek for maidens of Caryae. She's one of six maidens, the Caryatids of Erechtheion."

"Six?" you turn to him "Where's the other five?"

"Athens from what I remember."

"While she's the only one here in London?" you stared sadly at the statue again "That's so sad... she has sisters and she hasn't been with them for god knows how long... it's so sad..."

Steven looked at you and nodded "It is..." his heart was crushed after understanding what you meant. But it did make his heart skip a beat when you cared for a statue.

"You know, if I had to steal one and give it back, would want to give her back..." you whispered, touching the base with your hand.

After that night, you didn't see Steven for two weeks. You were worried but didn't want to overstep your boundaries.

Was your date really that bad?

You missed having to step outside and see his face every day. It made you a little depressed too. It was yet another morning without Steven's greetings and you picked up the newspaper from outside your door before walking to your bed and opening it up to read the latest news.

As you were about to take a sip of your morning drink, you dropped it by accident upon seeing the article.

The Homecoming Triumph: Athens Welcomes the 6th Caryatid Statue.

UP NEXT: what happened to steven in the last two weeks?!

tags: @red-hydra @monsterroonio @pastelpinkpilatesprincess @letmehavemyfictionalmen @uncle-eggy @superduckmilkshake @3zae-zae3

[ebodebo]

Chasing The Mask

—red hood is on the hunt for the director and his accomplice, blueprint, gotham's most notourious art theives.

—red hood x art thief "blueprint!" reader

—2.5k+

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A heavy dew settles over the city, along with a light fall of freezing rain. It would almost be calming if you didn't know it was Gotham. One of the most crime-ridden cities in the world. Full of crooks and villains alike. 

Among the haze of rain and sleet, a vigilante sits perched on the top of one of the city's most renowned museums, The Metropolitan. The Red Hood, so he calls himself. While most nights he goes out into the night by himself, to his dismay, tonight he is accompanied by his heroine brother, Nightwing.

The Metropolitan is filled with some of the most exquisite pieces of art made by some highly famed artists, from Van Gogh to Basquiet. It is home to a most priceless collection, indeed. 

Of course, with such valuable pieces, the museum has been the target of numerous theft attempts, and tonight is no exception. 

"You didn't have to come," Red Hood snarkily says as he leans against the red brick encasing the rooftop exit door. 

"Just trynna' help out." The honesty in his voice makes Red Hood roll his eyes. He doesn't necessarily hate Nightwing but he thinks he's too smug for his own good. An entitled, know-it-all. But they are brothers, after all. So, there is a sense of undeniable care there. 

"I've got it taken care of." Red Hood counters, crossing his arms. His tone is almost defensive. Does Nightwing believe he can't catch a simple art thief? Like he's some kind of amateur?

"Is that right?" Nightwing questions, crossing his arms, too.

"Yes." Defensive, again. 

"Because, last time I checked, The Director and Blueprint are still running around Gotham." Nightwing accused. 

"Way to state the obvious, Dick." Red Hood enunciated his name. Dick was used to Hood using his name as a homonym, often. 

"I'm waiting." Hood finally answered his question after the insult. Nightwing let out a light laugh. "For what exactly?" He pushes, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the brick wall Hood was leaning on. 

"An opportunity," Hood stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Jesus Christ, Jason." Nightwing pulled his hand up to wipe across his face, which was covered by a simple black domino mask. 

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come, Dick." Hood sighed deeply. "Talk too much." He finished, uncrossing his arms.

"Sorry, I have-" Nightwing started, but Hood quickly interrupted.

"Wait, shut up," Hood stated, putting his pointer finger in the air.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Nightwing exhales, anger simmering off his body. 

"Dick, I'm serious," Hood says, turning his head to look around the roof. "You hear that?" He questions.

"Hear wha-?"

"Boys." Hood and Nightwing quickly turn to see Blueprint emerging behind the bricked rooftop door they were leaning on. 

"Blueprint," they simultaneously say. "What are you two doing here?" you ask, tilting your head. Nightwing is quick to respond. "We could ask you the same thing."

"A woman never reveals her secrets." You chirp, pointing your finger at both of them. You walk closer to them, smiling. "It's actually good to see you both." 

"Wish we could say the same." Hood finally speaks. His words are gruff and gray. You rapidly turn your head towards him. It felt weird seeing him like this. Not even thirty minutes ago, you were lying in the sanctity of his warm, cozy bed in a post-orgasmic haze. It wasn't like you and him were dating, but you shared a specific intimacy that wasn't common to either of you. 

Normally, you wouldn’t give boys like him the time of day. But, what can you say? He’s a great lay.

You did like him, sure, but this was strictly business. There should be no feelings involved in business.

"Blue?" Hood questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You shake your head, absolving you of your thoughts. "Would love to stay and chat, boys, but I have some paintings to tend to." Thanks to The Director, you swivel on your heel to head toward the rooftop exit door that's been propped open. 

"That won't be happening today," Nightwing spoke, pulling out his slick-black Escrima Sticks. 

You let out a smug laugh. "And I suppose you two are going to stop me?" You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head. 

"That's the plan," Hood said, pulling out his weaponry, which was tucked nicely in his jacket. 

You gave a nice, wide smile before pressing the button on the small metal capsule of a lead-lined smoke grenade that had been concealed in your hand, throwing it in front of them, unleashing a cloud of smoke that covered your being as you made your getaway.

"Bye-bye, batboys." You yelled to them as you sprinted to the ajar exit door and entered the museum's stairwell.

"Fuck." Hood says through coughs as the smoke forces its way deep into his lungs. Even with smoke filling his lungs, he's still quick to spring into action, following you inside the museum, with Nightwing following hot on his trail, coughing as well.

You flew down the steps. Skipping three, even four, steps at of time. When you turned around after you got inside, they weren't even behind you, still coughing and heaving on the smoke. It was a damn shame Jason was so tall because once you scaled the second staircase, you turned to see Jason beginning the second one. Your eyes widened under your mask at how swift he was. You turned and continued sprinting as fast as your legs could go.

You could faintly hear Hood and Nightwing yell at you to stop, but you pursued down the flights downstairs, reaching the last set of stairs. 

You scrambled up as Hood came unexpectedly close and almost grabbed your arm, but you managed to escape his grasp, holding the handle of the main door and slipping inside, slamming it in his face. You breathed a sigh of relief as your legs carried you over to where The Director AKA your dad was standing, holding an authentic Da Vinci portrait. 

"Nice job, Blue." Your dad remarked, referring to the diversion you created with the bats so he could slyly take the precious art without them interfering. Though slamming the door did make an excellent barrier, you had forgotten to arm the system back, so Hood and Nightwing forcefully pushed the door open. 

"You didn't arm the door system back?" Your dad hissed, looking down at you.

"I-shit." You cursed, turning to see Hood and Nightwing standing only a few feet from where you and your dad stood. 

"You really think you're going to get away with this?" Nightwing cockily questions, stretching his arms down with his sticks in each hand. 

The Director let out a deep, guttural laugh, causing you to spin your head to face him. "Don't you see? I already have," he declared, showing the painting in his hand.

"We could still take you out." Hood points out, his eyes on The Director, as his hand slides to reach for a gadget on his signature utility belt. Though, he couldn't feel anything. Did he seriously forget to bring it?

"How are you going to do that, Hood?" The Director challenged. "Don't have that shiny belt on, do you?" He questioned, gesturing to his waist.

Hood glanced at Nightwing. "You forgot your belt?" Nightwing questioned, disbelief coating his voice.

"I could have sworn-" Hood says before shaking the rest of the sentence off. "Whatever. I don't need it." He assures, assuming a fighting position.

It was honestly true. Hood was an incredible fighter. Watching him fight was astonishing. He could move his body in ways you didn't even know were humanly possible. But, you did not want to fight him. You just wanted to appease your father by helping obtain the painting, so you could all get the hell out of there.

"Get them." Your father demanded, looking down at you. You hesitated, looking up at your father. "Did you hear me? Get them." His words came out harsher than the first, showing his agitation. 

"Come on, Blue, we won't go that hard on you." Hood snarkily remarked, and you reached for his belt wrapped around your waist. You felt a weird sense of guilt as you covertly pulled out a Batarang.

"You just gonna stand there or-" Hood starts but is interrupted by the Batarang swinging right near the side of his head. 

"I actually think I'd like to play, Red." You mischievously say, running towards Nightwing, catching him a little off guard, and extending your leg to kick him in the stomach, pushing him back, as he holds his stomach.

"Come on, Red. I won't bite." You say, making your way over to him while Nightwing is still down. You let out a powerful punch, but he's quick to move his head to the side, dodging it. 

"Actually, I think you might." He says, grabbing your extended arm and twisting it so your body turns in the other direction. 

Nightwing makes his way up. "Well, that was easier than expected." He said, wiping his hands together.

"Because I did all of the work." Hood chimed, still with your arm twisted behind your back. Their banter made for a good distraction so that you could reach into the utility belt Jason mistakenly left at your house and grabbed a stun gun. 

You turned quickly, letting go of contact with him, as Hood talked, and pressed the tazer to his forearm. Although clothed, the powerful current still hit his skin, making him drop to the floor, convulsing.

"Wanna have some fun, Grayson?" You sarcastically ask as you step closer to him. He swings his sticks in front of him in a criss-crossed pattern. 

You take his silence as an answer. "I knew you were always the boring one." You sigh, holding up the stun gun.

"That's a bat-belt." Nightwing states casually, looking over at Hood, whose body is hunched over on the ground, still convulsing. 

"Aren't you just a genius? You sneered, carefully watching him. 

"How the hell did you get bat-belt?" Nightwing gruffly questions, eyeing your hand with the stun gun. You narrow your eyes at him. "Like I said before, a woman never reveals her secrets." You quickly move towards him, though he's not so off guard. Not like Hood was. 

However, unlike a taser, a stun gun does not shoot any projectiles, and it has to be held against a body or skin to do any damage. Nightwing was standing a few feet from you so the stun gun would do you no good. 

But, you don't even get a chance to use it because he's quick to knock the stun gun out of your hand and uses his stick to hit across the museum, a ways from any of you. 

"Ah, I get it," Nightwing says, letting his sticks rest on his side. You tilt your head to the side. "Get what?" You shouldn't be indulging him. You should be kicking his ass, but with Hood down, Nightwing wasn't going to be so much work. Plus, in between fighting them, your dad had slipped away, leaving you to do the damage control. 

"You got it from Jason, right? Well, stole." He dragged out the last word. 

"It's not really stealing if he leaves it in my apartment. Is it?" You retort smugly.

"Of course he did." As he finishes his sentence, you realize you two have been talking for a while. Well, in hindsight, in normal conversation, no, but this is supposed to be a fight, not a catch-up. Wait, I haven't heard Hood? Upon this epiphany, you turn to see an empty spot where Hood laid.

"Where-where did he go?" You stutter, deciphering when he could have left and how you didn't hear him.

"Oh, Jason?" Nightwing starts. "He left a while ago—once you turned around, actually." He coolly says this, sliding his sticks back on through the straps on the back of his suit.

This was a diversion, and you were stupid enough to fall for it. Shit, your dad is going to be so pis-

"Got em'," You hear Hood's voice echo off the walls as he walks in with your father, ropes tied around his hands and ankles, painting in hand. He handed him off to Nightwing as he placed the art back in its place.

You and Hood watched as Nightwing dragged him through the exit door you all came in through.

"So, heard you stole from me?" Hood tuts, shifting closer to you. 

"Like I said to your brother, it's not stealing if you leave it in my apartment." You retaliate, your throat drying as he moves closer.

"It's still mine." He's now standing right in front of you. You feel flustered at the proximity but cannot let it show. He would never let you live it down. 

"And I want it back," he casually says, his hands ghosting over your waist, housing the belt in question.

You look straight up at him. "Take it then." You swear you could hear him inhale deeply at your suggestive words, but you don't ask. 

His hands wander to the belt, hanging a little low on you. You swear he holds his fingers on the front part just to tease you, and if that was the goal, fuck, did he succeed. But you wouldn't tell him that. His ego is already huge. His fingers leave the front portion of the belt and continue dragging slowly along the sides until he reaches the back to unclasp it, and pull it off of you.

Once he steps back, you release a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "I would leave now." He suggests, wrapping the belt around his own waist. "You know, before the police get here."

"Okay." You felt like he had just put you under a spell. You are willingly agreeing with him. He can sense this, too, and smirks under his mask at your cooperation. 

"Night, Blue." He says as he turns to the rooftop top exit door, pushing it slightly.

"Goodnight, Red." You say, releasing a sigh of relief once he steps outside the door.

"Oh my God." You say to yourself. "That was-" You pause, taking a deep breath. "Do I like Red Hood?" You question, thinking. "No. Definitely not. It was nothing." You lie to yourself. You had only ever slept with the guy, so it just had to be the undeniable sexual tension between you two. That’s all. Right?

You thank God when you push open the rooftop door that Hood isn't hovering behind the door, listening to you essentially try to deny, and fail, expressing your feelings for him.

It is so nice for Hood that stairwells offer a safe place during storms, but they also offer space for a secret spot, just like the one Hood implemented into the walls of The Metropoliton some years ago.

He used to hide from criminals chasing him through the museum, which happened quite frequently, but now he was using it to simply make sure you left okay. But who knew it would double as a way to hear about your secret love confession? Certainly not him. 

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[astridthevalkyrie]

cw: afab reader + she/her pronouns, creepy stuff, yandere ig??, very very very brief and extremely mild use of phone as a vibrator, if you've seen gravity falls this is inspired by the soos and the real girl ep 💀

You pause and exit out of the app right as you open up the video call link, ignoring the twinge of guilt you feel at leaving during such a steamy scene. It's not real, you remind yourself, like you have a million times in the past month. A part of you wants to find the coziest corner of this library and play until you've leveled up all the memories you can and gone on all nine claw machine dates you're allowed to, but it's time to unplug.

Besides, you have an actual date.

"Hey!" your boyfriend greets as soon as the video loads up, grinning when he sees your face. "Are you in the library?"

"Yeah. Booked a room all for you," you tease, setting your phone down to focus on your laptop.

"Wow, I'm flattered. So what's been up lately?"

You sigh. "Nothing much. Same old boring stuff. What about you?"

He starts talking about his new job, the entire reason that you and he have been long-distance for the past few months. You're not going to lie to yourself—it's rough. It feels like torture, not being able to see him and hold him and kiss him. You've really, really missed him. That's probably why you've turned to dating sims of all things in the first place.

Your phone buzzes while he's talking, and your eyes flick over to the screen.

new text from alien boy <3

Your brows furrow in confusion. This app doesn't notify you about new texts, because they only come through while you're on the app itself. And you never just get texts, unless you've leveled up on affinity, which you haven't in the past half hour.

Whatever. Probably some new feature or event you don't know about yet. You turn your attention back to your boyfriend.

"—And my break will be in two weeks," he finishes his story, then smiles. "Which means in two weeks I'll be seeing you, pretty girl."

Eyes lighting up, you lean in so you can blow him a light kiss. "I can't wait. I already have the whole weekend planned out. We'll go to the park, the museum—I thought we could go canoeing if you wanted to—"

Once again, your phone buzzes.

alien boy <3: didn't we have plans that weekend?

Your stomach flips unpleasantly.

Huh?

"What is it?" your boyfriend asks, noticing your struck expression.

"N-nothing, just—this app I downloaded, it gave me a super weird notification. For a second, I thought it was, like, listening to me."

He chuckles. "Creepy. What app is it?"

"Nothing," you say quickly, not sure if you should even tell your boyfriend that you've found solace in fictional characters during his absence. "Just some stupid game."

This time when your phone buzzes, you jump a little in your seat.

It's not a text. Someone's calling you. Your shoulders almost sag until you notice there's no name on the caller id, just a small spaceship emoji.

"What the hell," you mutter under your breath, putting one finger up to the camera. Your boyfriend nods in understanding, leaning back and muting himself while you swipe and answer the call. "Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello-o-o?"

Still nothing. You almost hang up, until the barest of sounds makes your ears perk up. If you strain them and press the phone so close it's smushing your cheek, you can hear something. It sounds like someone whispering, but you can't make out anything.

"Hello? Um, your audio is super low, I can barely hear you. Hello? Can you hear me?"

With no change, you hang up, frustrated. It might be a prank call. You're in the library on a Friday night and there's barely anyone here, one of your friends might've thought it was hilarious to mess with you.

"Spam call." You shrug uneasily, slipping the phone down between your thighs this time instead of on the table. He nods in understanding, then starts saying something.

"You're still on mute, sweetheart, I can't hear you."

He makes an oh face, then leans forward a bit to use the mouse. After a few seconds, though, his eyes narrow in focus and he shakes his head. He looks up, mouthing can you hear me now?

"Nope. Can you still hear me?"

An affirmative nod. Weird. It's still showing that he's muted on your end. "What, is it not clicking?"

You see him look back up to the screen, whether to nod or shake his head, you don't find out, because the screen glitches out for a moment, and all you see is a door.

You shriek, clamping a hand over your mouth.

His face is back in front of you again, and you still can't hear him, but he clearly sees how freaked out you are, because he tilts his head up concernedly, as though to ask you what's wrong.

You didn't scream because of the glitch.

You screamed because you've visited your boyfriend at his new place before, and that door was his door.

"Can you hear me? Is your door locked?" He only looks more confused, shaking his head like you're the one who's muted now.

Your phone lights up before you can grab it and call him, and you gasp when it buzzes against your core and doesn't stop buzzing. It doesn't vibrate this much when you get a call, and there is no call on the home screen, nor text, nor any kind of notification. It feels like it presses itself into your skin more, and you grip the table with one hand at the brief jolt of pleasure before snatching it and unlocking the screen.

Before you can click the phone app, Love&Deepspace opens. You groan in frustration, trying to swipe up to no avail. Did you accidentally click on it? It wasn't even in the list of apps on your main page.

Movement from your laptop catches your eye. Your boyfriend's looking forward, but not at the camera. He's looking at—at something, and he backs up in his chair, looking terrified all of a sudden.

"What is it?" you say as loud as you can, but even if he does hear you, he doesn't respond, and instead, his mouth falls open in a silent scream.

The screen goes black, and then so does the entire library.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit." You look back down at your phone, ready to crack it if it doesn't swipe up and get out of this stupid app—

There's no one there.

Your heart stutters in its chest.

There's always someone in the Destiny Cafe.

There's no one there.

And on the little white armchair in the background, there's a dark streak of red dripping down and staining the cloth.

"What the fuck," you whisper, eyes wide. Your laptop screen flickers.

The facetime has been replaced by grey-blonde hair, that gently brushes against baby blue eyes with a soft, unassuming smile.

"You shouldn't pause me," he coos, "now, where were we?"

a/n: i hope no one tells me that people don't put their phones between their thighs while sitting bc i very much do. also. i'm talking to a guy on FT in the library tomorrow. hope i don't have gift of foresight. or maybe i hope i do muwahahaha. this is actually mad goofy and not scary at all

[radiant-reid]

Morgan helping Reid get the courage to ask Reader out blub

this has big baby spencer energy

Spencer's never been good with asking for help. He never learned how to as a genius kid who knew everything, so he struggled with it later in life. It wasn't really a problem. Most things he can just work out by himself, and for the emotional component, he pushed everything deep down to be dealt with later.

But this time, he does seriously need help.

Morgan's the best person to go to for this type of help, but he's terrified to ask for it.

"Morgan." Spencer gets his attention when they're sitting at their desks with no one else within earshot. "Can you help me with something?"

It's a tone Morgan hasn't heard from his friend, ever. "Sure, kid. What's up?"

Spencer takes a deep breath, but his heart's racing at confessing his idea to someone else. "How do you ask a girl out? Like on a date?" It took him a month to admit to himself that he had a crush, and another month to seriously think about asking her out.

Morgan frowns like Spencer's said something shocking. "You've never asked anyone out?"

He ducks his head, his cheeks burning as he immediately regrets bringing it up. "Forget it."

"No. No, Reid." Morgan's dedicated to helping now, aware he might have come across teasingly. He does tease Spencer like he's his little brother, but the duties of a big brother require helping out as well. "Tell me who it is?"

"What, so you can tell her?" Spencer says snarkily.

"No, so I can help." Morgan corrects. "Look, it matters because you're going to ask her to go somewhere. Some girls prefer a dinner date or the movies or a bar."

Spencer nods in understanding. He honestly hadn't thought that far ahead. "It's, uh, Y/n." He admits quietly, worried you'll hear him despite the fact you're in Penelope's office.

Morgan raises his eyebrows, not fully surprised since he's seen Spencer with a lovesick gaze while looking at you on more than one occasion. "Okay, you got any idea where you want to take her?"

"A museum," Spencer suggests, seeking his friend's approval. "Or is that too weird? It's just that she, uh, s-she mentioned it last week."

"No, it's good," Morgan assures him. "What you've got to do is be confident, just go up to her, ask if she's busy on Friday, and then if she'd like to go out on a date. Make sure you use the word date before she says 'Sure, it's a date' because she might be saying that as if it's not a date." He explains.

Spencer's a little confused, but he focuses on the first instructs. "I don't really do confidence. And if she doesn't feel the same way it could really jeopardize our working relationship and friendship." He voices his worries aloud.

"I have a feeling she feels similarly," Morgan assures him. "And even if she doesn't, you're both mature adults who can be friends."

Spencer nods, breathing deeply as he gets up, almost feeling like he could pass out. Morgan gets up too, patting him on the shoulder. "You've got this, pretty boy."

[blurredfloweryblood]

I really like the trope of doomed towns. Forgotten, little towns, with forgotten, little people, dust among the cosmos. The name of something on the tip of everyone's mouths. "Oh, you know... uh, that town? I don't really remember the name." Towns you return to, and you breathe them in, and you know every rock, every line on the concrete. And it's changing, but it's really not.

Almost like it's made to stay this way. In a decaying, sad way. Not like museum pieces, displayed for people who don't understand them to awe at them. No, this is rotting, slowly. It will sink into the ground.

No one leaves. No one goes. For some reason, you can't stay away. Your leaving plans are months away, and for some reason, you are still here. You wake up, and you sleep here. There is no world outside of this. You're like the little prince, wandering in a small planet, or like Sisyphus. Always the same hill. Always the same rock.

Mae comes back to the town. Almost like it was beckoning her. Almost like she can't exist without it. Shapes and lines that blur their words in the air. You don't know what they're saying, you don't know who they are. You eyesight starts getting better. And they are people, you aren't wrong anymore. Like you fit, in a couple of small pieces of a puzzle that's slowly disconnecting itself. Your friends are here, and they are not your friends. They changed but they laugh the same, they sneeze the same way. They cry the same way. Their brows crease when they play their instruments, tapping their feet. And yet, you don't know them. Maybe you never did. Hidden somewhere in the town, there are your real selves, just, wandering around.

Finding yourself is hard when there is always you around. Closed shops and abandoned factories. Fighting with your mom, not talking with your dad. Crying in Bea's car, yelling drunkenly. Everything is the fucking same. Just miserable people, in miserable streets. You are all nothing.

And it hurts, still. The end will happen, your world will be swallowed alive. And you'll feel it, deep in your bones. The shattering pain of holding nothing but dust between your fingers. And you will feel it. And it will burn. You hope it fucking hurts, you hope that the pain makes you claw out your hair, living in a loop of madness. Because it's worth it. Because then it's something, and whatever comes after that.

Sal moves to a town. You don't know anything about it. Other than the fact that your dad wants a fresh start. Your mom doesn't haunt you, she is too good for that. Her presence is a light touch that you feel. Cold, but welcomed. It's your mother, after all.

You stay in town. Funny little town. There's a church, and there are ghosts and blood on the walls. You move in when someone gets killed. You wonder if that's more than to it, than everything else makes it look like. Haunted ghosts by bigger things. This lurking, from everywhere. People putting on other people's faces, and the chant of a choir that wants to bring death to the town. Just this town. It's always this town. It will always be this town. You died here. You fought here. You walked piles of bones and something marked you. It will always be this place. It will always be this town. The same monsters, the same choir. Just different faces, with torn emotions and bodies missing. You wouldn't have it any other way. This is your town.

There's really no reason to stay. The girl you liked married a stupid boy. You run a shop that people come by all hushed and hands sweating, like they're about to be executed. I don't know why you don't leave. I don't know why you stay. Moralton is just a dump of people praying and lying and praying and crying and praying and dying. Maybe you're born here and that's it. Nowhere to run. Nowhere else to go. Once you are born here, you're done. The town never grows, never changes. There are nice moments, but you can't hide. Everyone is always watching. Mourning a son, mourning fatherhood, mourning yourself. Sidewalks that are so opaque because why would the sun shine on this fucking town? You don't know how to stay, you don't know where to go. All those little towns, are they all the same? Just little galaxies of little people, in tiny houses? People born and people staying and dying there. Is there no world? Is there not a sea? Why are you still here? watching the mayor's son sweep the floor, limping and with eyes red. Why don't you tell him to run away? Are you bad? Are you good? Why are you staying? Are you so horrible that you can't fit anywhere else? Or is Orel too good because he needs to stay here? What does it matter? You're still here. Looking at the clock. Just a few minutes pass by. He is humming quietly, and you just want to sleep. And when you wake up, you will be here, still.

Tiny little miserable towns, with little rotten homes. All people cannot go, all people cannot stay. They will never catch a train to go elsewhere, because there's nowhere to go. There is no land, no sea to cross. Just a little planet, flat and sad. Rotating on its axe, on and on. And you'll be here. Until it stops. And be there, still.

[writing-house-of-m]

Connect... 4?

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You spend a fun day in, with Wanda, Billy and Tommy

A/N: I found this request really difficult to find inspiration for, lucky for me @nameforthemain came to my rescue (thank you mate!) The request can be found here. Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated!

Prompt: “I can’t believe you said that, you take that back.”

It is summer break for Billy and Tommy so you and Wanda booked time off from avenging to spend it with your kids.

Petting zoos, amusement parks, museums, you have done it all. Because it has been an action packed few weeks it was decided you would spend a few relaxing days at home.

If you could call it that.

For a while all of you played with different toys then various board games together, four player games which then switched to two vs two games, changing partners every so often.

That was until you and Wanda got to the game you were currently playing. The children have been long forgotten as you concentrate on the puzzle sitting between the two of you.

You have spent long minutes staring at the different combinations in front of you while your fingers play with a red counter piece.

"It's not rocket science honey, just put in your piece and get ready to lose," Wanda lets out a cocky remark.

You look up at her with an unimpressed look.

Wanda, the mother of your children, your wife, the light of your life, is going down. There is no way you are going to lose this.

Looking back at the rows before you, you go back to your planning. Finally you drop a piece into an empty column.

Wanda chuckles and immediately plays her turn blocking your planned potential four-in-a-row.

You squint your eyes and raise a brow at her. A smirk is playing on her lips which you don't understand because she has never been good at this game, where is this confidence coming from?

Something is definitely not right.

The game continues and the board slowly fills up, it isn't looking good for you. If Wanda doesn't make a mistake then she will win when you inevitably have to play a piece into a column that will give her the win.

And that is exactly what happens.

You sigh, a sour look on your face when you slide in that final counter, then turn away like that will stop your loss.

Before the red plastic you drop in even hits the empty frame below it Wanda is already placing her yellow piece in the same line. "I win!" She cheers with her arms in the air, hands stretched out.

"There's no way, you definitely cheated," you accuse.

"I can’t believe you said that, you take that back!" Wanda exclaims.

"No," you mock in a murmur crossing your arms over your chest side eying her..

Billy hears the commotion and moves away from his lego to ask, "What are you two arguing about?"

"Just about how your mom is a cheater," you say.

Wanda lets out a gasp, "No I am not!" She exasperates and throws a counter at you which you catch.

"Are you allowed to use your powers, mom? Because I saw your eyes turn red when you were waiting for your turn," he says easily.

With wide eyes you turn to Wanda, "I knew it!"

Wanda sighs and tries not to smile at getting caught out.

"Thank you son!" You exclaim, standing from sitting on the floor. Billy goggles when you lift him in the air excitedly, "A witness to corroborate my suspicions!"

When Tommy sees this he runs over with his arms up saying he wants a turn at being thrown in the air.

"Billy, I can't believe you. I thought we were friends," Wanda pouts.

"But mom you're the one who tells us to do the right thing," Billy says while you and Tommy, who is resting on your hip in your arm, nod your heads agreeing.

With no leg to stand on Wanda shakes her head in shame and confirms he is right. She can't go against that logic.

"Because mom cheated and therefore lost," you say smugly, putting Tommy down onto the ground. "I think she should bake us some cookies. Right, boys?"

"Yes!" "Alright!" They agree in unison.

"I have a better idea, how about we make them together," Wanda suggests.

"You're right, that is a better idea. This is why you're the boss," you agree and place a chaste kiss to Wanda's lips. "First one down gets to eat the chocolate chips!" You shout and immediately run to the kitchen leaving the rest of your family in the dust.

Bill and Tommy run off shortly after claiming you always do this and it is unfair while Wanda is left, laughing at your escapades.

With Wanda alone in the room, she rubs at her stomach and speaks down to it, "I think it's time to tell them this family is going to get a little bigger, don't you?" There is a little flutter in her stomach which she takes as a response to her question when really it is probably her own excitement.

She smiles as she strolls to the noise she can hear in the kitchen, most likely disagreements over the chocolate chips you are probably holding out of the boys' reach.

Wanda thinks it is time for her to step in and ban anyone else from eating any more chocolate then make some 'cheat free' cookies for her family.

[cuffmeinblack]

Andrew Larson headcanons

General & SFW romantic

⤍ Andrew Larson masterlist ⤎

General

💙 Andrew is quiet and reserved by nature, as well as friendly, honest and loyal.

💙 In many ways a typical Ravenclaw with a thirst for knowledge, he's a bookworm but also has an adventurous spirit and is also very creative.

💙 He enjoys travelling to sate his curiosity but isn't much of a duellist and has no desire to endanger himself or others. You're more likely to find him in a museum or art gallery than chasing down hidden relics.

💙 He finds 'forbidden' knowledge and darker forms of magic fascinating but as a pretty straight-laced guy he's terrified of being found out or people getting the wrong impression. His interest really is purely academic. Luckily, he had no problems gaining access to the forbidden section of the library at Hogwarts due to his stellar reputation.

💙 Picked as a prefect in sixth year and Head Boy in seventh. For the most part enforced the school rules, though he was known for being soft on those he liked.

💙 There weren't many classes he didn't like at Hogwarts but never saw the appeal of Divination like many of his other classmates. He says this was because it's such an inaccurate branch of magic but it's actually because he saw the Grim in a teacup and decided he didn't want to know anymore about his fate.

💙 After Hogwarts I can see him going into research or maybe becoming a healer; anything that requires constantly bettering himself and acquiring knew knowledge.

💙 He would need some form of creativity in his chosen career, whether creating art or applying it to problem solving.

💙 He wears reading glasses and is slightly self conscious about it.

💙 He's a cat person.

SFW romantic

💙 He'd be a wreck for days before working up the courage to tell you how he feels. An admission of his feelings would be a big deal, requiring a romantic and private location, a gift or thoughtful gesture to accompany it.

💙 Andrew is very much a gentleman when it comes to romance. He insists on traditionally courting, hand-holding and chaste kisses for your first few dates.

💙 When it comes to a romantic partner, he wants to know the real you. A pretty face isn't all he's interested in; he prioritises kindness, empathy and a curiosity to match his own.

💙 He isn't likely to be intimate with someone he doesn't know. He needs an emotional connection with the person before pursuing anything physical.

💙 His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time.

💙 He enjoys giving gifts more than receiving them, putting thoughtful touches into every birthday and special occasion, or giving you a bunch of your favourite flowers or a book he thinks you'd like for no other reason than to see you smile.

💙 He's a romantic and sees the beauty in the word.

💙 When dating Andrew, you can expect quiet days curled up with a pot of tea and a stack of books, art galleries and exhibitions, exploring hidden parts of whatever place you happen to be in.

💙 He can be a little insecure which can lead to jealousy but he won't show it. He's got a level head on his shoulders and good emotional maturity, so he'll sit you down and talk to you if something is bothering him.

💙 His partner is the most important person in his life and he's very loyal. He expects the same in return.

💙 As for future plans, he wants to spend his youth travelling and focusing on his career but will eventually want to settle down to build a stable home life.

💙 Andrew comes from a small family himself so one or two children seem like a manageable amount to him. He'd equally be happy with none, if that's what his partner wanted.

[brynnterpretations]

okay, i saw your previous ship request and i'm not used to this type of stuff but i have a massive 'the boys' brainrot so: why not? let's do this! 'the boys' ship ask!

i'm a bisexual girl (what an introduction) from eastern europe (yeah, these beautiful countries with delightful swear words like: suka, kurwa and pizda). i like belles-lettres, fashion, history, a little bit of sociology, art, museums, a little bit of everything if i'm being honest.

i'm kind of jack of all trades but master of none. i have a opinion on every topic and i like to research a lot but i'm not interested in doing anything with the universal knowledge i have. yes, i may know a lot about many topics but i will never pursue a bachelor's degree in any of it. that's why i like to write stories, essays etc. because i can speak my mind freely. one day i can talk to someone about alexander the great and then at midnight i will text you top 10 facts you didn't know about kangaroos.

i also like drama, but i don't like being in the middle of it. i will enjoy when things are getting more and more complicated as long as i'm not included in it. sometimes during in-group arguments i can act as the devil's advocate for certain person but it doesn't mean i entirely agree with them - i just want to prove that not everything is black and white.

i'm in the conflict between my head and my heart, because i make all my decisions by using brains and then wonder if i haven't left someone behind. with my closest friends and family i don't have this problem but with more casual friends i always felt some type of guilt after i did something. the same case is with my humor because i will most likely jokingly bully you if you are the person i care about, but some people take it too seriously and feel offended by it😬 (fortunately, i have a cousin who shares the same absurd and sarcastic type of humor.)

and even though i'm a extrovert i prefer small groups in which i know i can feel comfortable. it's because i deal with a lot of stress in my life and sometimes i feel overhelmed by my intrusive thoughts (mm, i know you will get me). tbh i love those friendships in which you can both be weird but also have a deep conversations. besides all the things i said i'm also more future oriented so i don't hold grudges for long. i also love telling people random stories and love when they answer to me with their own silly stories.

i gues that's it. have a nice day! i hope you're doing well!! :DD

Thank you so much for the request, you seem like such a sweetheart! I hope you like it. ☻

I ship you with...

Frenchie ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @screwsupes ★ (link)

You and Frenchie have what is basically the opposite of a meet-cute. On a drug-fueled suspicion that the cashier at Fumo, a NYC pizza chain, is the supe that The Boys have heard is around the area, Frenchie gets kicked out of the establishment.

But you — bless you — notice the commotion and, both intrigued and concerned (because how TF do you get kicked out of Fumo?), went out to the parking lot. After a brief conversation with him, littered with curses in both French and English, you eventually are able to calm him down a bit, and get him the pizza he was going to take back to the coup.

Frenchie's quite charmed by you — you're a good conversationalist, and the boys really needed that pizza — and you two exchange names, but neither of you expect to see each other again. However, you end up running into each other in the city a lot, particularly at the local Jitter Bean or the scattered NYC pizza places not including Fumo.

You start out as casual friends, often sharing a smoke together (or coffee if you don't smoke) outside and chatting. Frenchie loves art, sociology, and other cultural topics, so you two have very long conversations about any and all of the above. And, similarly to you, Frenchie is very much interested in these without the distractions of pseudo-intellectual academia slop and jargon, so you two hold very interesting conversations.

Probably a month or two after this takes place, he would start developing a lot of interest in you romantically. You're funny, smart, beautiful, and you two definitely share the same sense of humor. He'd start inviting you to simple dates, like watching documentaries in his apartment or getting pizza and cheap wine from a late-night shop.

From the get-go, he wouldn't hide his involvement in dangerous work from you. Honesty and transparency is extremely important to Frenchie, and he believes that, if you two are to pursue a relationship, you should know the shit he's in.

And, you do! It's not the typical roses-and-candles affair, but it's extremely sweet, and it's extremely Frenchie; after a couple months of going out, he flat-out asks if you'd like to be together. When you say yes... queue the biggest, sweetest kiss + embrace ever.

You two have a lot of late-night conversations about philosophical topics, like life, death, forgiveness, and religion. As mentioned, Frenchie is endlessly drawn to your intellect and curiosity, and will gladly sacrifice sleep to be able to hear your input.

Frenchie loves you reading to him, and while he's not the biggest reader (he's more of an art/audio guy), he'll take on even the most difficult books if he knows you like them.

Because of your shared spontaneous nature, expect a lot of fun, random dates, like impromptu museum getaways, thrift shop ventures, and long drives. Frenchie loves showing you his favorite spots in the city, especially at the city limits.

You two are the creative duo, and your relationship will reflect that, with you two often cooking and crafting (he'll make you a cute, raggedy locket to wear) together.

As evident by his friendship with Kimiko, Frenchie is a big pet-name guy, and will call you petit feu (little fire), ma moitié (my other half), and mon rêve (my dream).

Frenchie 100% understands the conflict between head and heart — it's one of his biggest challenges in life — and will always be an ear for you to talk at when it concerns making decisions, figuring out what to do next, etc. While not as much of a small-group person as you, he respects it (Kimiko's the same way), and will go out of his way to make sure wherever you hang out is comfortable.

Early on, Frenchie will introduce you to the coup, which brings us to...

The Boys ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @vcugifs ★ (link)

You and M.M. are the most well-knit in the group. M.M.'s a very, very well-read guy, which is why you start talking; English was his favorite subject in school, and you two both share a certain love of belles-lettres and other literature. After he spots your favorite book in your bag and starts a conversation about it, you two become peas in a pod.

Additionally, you two have a lot in common mentally and emotionally, and you are essentially rocks for each other. You both struggle with balancing rationality and empathy, battling intrusive thoughts, etc., and would always be there for each other. M.M. and you exchange numbers pretty early on, and you can expect a lot of sweet, dad texts from him (you will be blessed with that anxiety-breathing-triangle GIF at least once a week).

Also, don't be fooled by his serious exterior — M.M. is a funny guy, and your senses of humor match up perfectly.

While you and Annie got off to a bit of a rocky start (she can have some difficulty with sarcasm and thought you did not like her ass), you two become extremely close. While you may see her mentally buffer when you make an off-key joke, she'll get it in a few seconds and genuinely laugh. She also isn't extremely familiar with a lot of your interests but loves learning new things, especially since she didn't have the opportunity to go to college and really immerse herself in sociology and the arts, so she loves taking book recommendations from you.

Hughie would be the same, though he'd take better to your humor — the guy's first introduction to the boys was Butcher, so he had to get used to it pretty quickly. He really, really likes you and Frenchie together, and thinks you're a sweetheart.

On the topic of Butcher, you and Butcher wouldn't really mesh at first, but you wouldn't not mesh, either. Butcher isn't the most intellectual guy, so a lot of your fun facts and conversational topics would fly over his head, but once you hang around the boys more, your sense of humor would click with his. Additionally, even if he wouldn't show it often (he's not that type of guy), he appreciates your future-oriented mindset as he tends to be a right-here-right-now person.

And, lastly, Kimiko: Kimiko loves you. Similarly to Annie, it took a bit for her to warm up to you, mainly because she's pretty averse to change and also very shy. However, as you found ways to communicate with her, she'd become enthralled with you. In the Shining Light Liberation Army, Kimiko didn't get any exposure to anything else but the Shining Light Liberation Army, so she is obsessed with your input on the arts and history, and loves to hang out with you. She'd definitely invite you to hang out a lot, particularly at museums and parks.

Honestly, I could see Kimiko forming quite the crush on you, but she'd never interfere with you and Frenchie.

So, girl: you've got a lot of good friends on your side.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton's or S/O's dog comes home very proud holding a huge dinosaur bone they just dig out in the garden. Main boys reaction?

Undertale Sans - He loses his jaw lol. Sans is not just a space kid, he's also a dinosaur kid deep inside. He never ran so fast in his life willingly in the garden to check if there was more. He's so excited. When Papyrus goes home, the garden is destroyed, full of holes, and a very dirty Sans is sleeping in one of them. Papyrus is having a mental breakdown.

Undertale Papyrus - ... He makes sure it's not one of his femurs, you never know. But once he realizes it's not, he's really excited! That's clearly skeleton art to display above the fireplace! Sans stares in disbelief as he notices the huge bone a few hours later. It's quite ugly to be honest, but at the same time it's so freakin cool?

Underswap Sans - He's sad he's too late to ride whoever bones it's belonging to. He loves it though. He's going to show it to a museum to see if they're interested in exposing it. He didn't expect it to be a super rare dinosaur and now his garden is ruined because the museum asked to dig to find the rest of it. Welp.

Underswap Papyrus - He's just happy his dog is happy, really. He's celebrating with the dog and dancing, holding his two front paws. He really didn't care it was a dinosaur bone until Blue noticed it and said it was probably worth something.

Underfell Sans - Well shit. He's speechless. He let the dog dig in the garden to piss off his brother but he didn't expect it to bring a giant bone you know. What the hell is he supposed to do of this? The thought there used to be skeletons that big is quite scary actually. What if some of them are still alive? Are they going to die? Are they coming back to life? Ok, he's maybe a little bit panicking.

Underfell Papyrus - He screeches as the dog is running everywhere in the house, throwing dirt everywhere. He doesn't care what this bone is, he just cleaned the house and he's going to kill that mutt in a few seconds if he doesn't stop messing his house. That's why he doesn't like dogs!

Horrortale Sans - Uh. That was unexpected. He pets the dog's head to congratulate him, then just... stay there. Not sure what to do with this. Willow probably won't want that in the house so he just plants it on the floor in the middle of the cow enclosure as a decoration because why not. The cows are so confused.

Horrortale Papyrus - Damn. That bone is as big as he is. How the hell did his dog carry it to him? ... Well, now this is a bit suspicious. Should he be worried his dog has supernatural force? Uh. He's calling Toriel, just in case. What if his dog is becoming a dog monster? That's probably something that should be addressed.

Swapfell Sans - All he sees is free money. He's going to dig the rest of the dinosaur himself, using his own claws. He knows how much it's worth and he's going to make people pay so much for it their wallet is going to explode. This is the best day of his life. Rus is a bit concerned when he notices him later digging the ground like a crazy gremlin in his expensive homemade suit, laughing like a maniac to himself. He discreetly calls Alphys to go check on him lol.

Swapfell Papyrus - He adds the big bones to his "weird things my dog found" collection, right between a part of an alien spaceship and a shark teeth he found in the middle of the city somehow. That's quite a nice addition.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Pfff. You call that a big bone? That's pitiful. He can make bones bigger than this, you're not special. He grabs the bone and blasts it to dust out of jealousy. Only after he asks Google how a dinosaur bone is worthing and faints when he sees the number.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's inspired and paints a nice fresco on the big bone to make it prettier. He then exposes it in his room now that it's matching colors. He thinks it looks so cool. He hopes his dog will bring more so he can do the same with the rest of the skeleton. Somewhere in the world, a paleontologist died of a heart attack.

[affluent-havoc]

Naegami Fluff and/or Shenanigans 7

Even before Byakuya realizes his low-key crush, anytime Makoto calls him by his first name, he gets a weird feeling that he can't pinpoint. Not that he'd ever want to refer it as a crush cus "childish" and he's the Togami heir. Togami heir's can't have foolish crushes! Either way though, Byakuya wants to feel angry or annoyed about the feeling, and he does his best to appear that way outwardly. It's a tad bit off though. Like, his insults don't land like they used to. His glares don't have that punch to them. Like this. Byakuya be like this.

Another thing is that, subconsciously, both boys feel the same way. Like, yeah. They're interactions feel a bit different somehow. Neither of them know the EXACT thing they're feeling but it's there. The two do handle the unknown feeling differently though. Makoto's state is mostly confusion. Think 79% confusion, 21% embarrassment cus this is weird. He feels very weird about this. It's not like Makoto's oblivious with romance though. This feeling is just a bit new to him. Maybe, another factor in Makoto's confusion might also be him not having many crushes in general. Or, maybe this crush is so different that Makoto just doesn't know what to make of it. Not everyday you're into a heir and it isn't some fantasy. Like, he's right there! Byakuya's right there! And he's talking to him! Makoto! He is! And like, of course Makoto doesn't objectify Byakuya for being a wealthy heir. It's just well, when you think about it, this is a crazy situation to be in. Makoto already felt lost and out of place in Hopes Peak. Of course he's gonna feel out of his element figuring out he has a thing for BYAKUYA of all people. Also, for some side bit of Naegiri cus why not, Makoto feels the same way with his thing with Kyoko. Like, after he thinks about it a bit like, wowie. Kyoko likes him? Whaaaat?! How is he her type? He's just some guy. There's nothing special about him! And Makoto's just like:

Also, regarding Byakuya's side of this, he's lost. This is entirely foreign to him which again leads Byakuya just responded his go to way. Being incredibly pissy. As he continues to try and make failed attempts to push Makoto away, it works less and less. It also starts to startle him a bit. Like, he's NEVER had an interest in anyone like this before. Or in general since Byakuya just hates people. Yet, Makoto intrigues him though that also confuses him. Sure, Byakuya views everyone in Hopes Peak as a commoner despite them being Ultimates/Super High School Level talented people. Makoto is like THE commoner of commoners though. The basic of the basic. But, at the same time, Byakuya also doesn't wanna see Makoto as "just some guy" after a while. This then leads to Byakuya's SECOND go to strategy. Treat this like some elaborate game, experiment or hypothesis he's trying to solve. This also bleeds into his go to strat numbero tres! That's right! He just starts stringing Makoto along, pretending he's trying to educate him or something when, in reality, he's basically just taking Makoto to a nice restaurant and going on a date with him. Byakuya probably doesn't immediately realize that this is basically what he's doing though. He is massively trying to cope his way outta the realization that he's been taking Makoto along to concert halls and museums, not for some science-y goal but because he just likes being around Makoto. Like, Byakuya didn't HAVE to offer Makoto a job in which Makoto legit just sits there and does nothing besides being cute. Like, he legit did this! And then was like "'Twas just a test" as a shitty cover. Like, you don't just offer that to ANYONE Byakuya and you know that!

This is just my Naegami brain being a Naegami brain though. Which is cool and all since like, diff interpretations cool. Cool beans Also, regardless on how both of them respond though, the two are both utter goobs. Utter fools. And, Makoto. I feel ya for regretting turning down that offer. Makoto would be so good at sitting, doing nothing, while looking cute.

[morkitten]

what's your favorite thing about klonoa? ^^

the character or the games??? you know what, i'll answer both: and i can't list just a single thing about both so i'm just going to list all the things i most love about them THE CHARACTER:

- Extremely cute character design, I love the big ears, I love the pac-man hat, and i love how they work together, the shapes just aren't as appealing otherwise (which is why I'm a bit lukewarm on the Klonoa 2 design - but put his hat forward like it should be and then it's instantly a good design again). Besides that I like his goofy and cute expressions and fangy teeth. I also love the yellow sclera, I used to be much more protective of it and upset that they changed that, but the white sclera works too - I like how in Moonlight Museum it blends with the white muzzle so it gives Klonoa that really cute old Mickey Mouse cartoon sort of look to his face where you can't tell where the eyes or white fur begin or end.

- Cute noises. Klonoa's voice actress is great and his gibberish is really cute. the double jump "WA-HOO!" just doesn't work with another delivery or with a less cute voice. I like the new lines that Klonoa 2 gives him for consecutive double-jumps which makes them feel even more satisfying to perform. THE GAMES:

- Each kingdom in Door to Phantomile feels like a totally different culture from each other, and the 2.5D helps sell this feeling that all these levels are sprawling lively places that you're going all over and throughout instead of feeling like you're stuck in a tiny stretch of land in one lane on a much larger and richer environment, like how other 2.5D games tend to feel like. The levels are designed pretty cleverly to not give you that impression, like you're never going "come ON just go AROUND this guy" or "why can't I go over there?" I love how barely anything in the levels' environments are "just" in the background in DtP. Every polygon is precious and is used efficiently. You see that windmill in the distance? You can climb it later in the level. That's right, Klonoa is Skyrim. The best Klonoa levels feel like an entire journey happening in a capital P Place. - The music in Klonoa 1 and 2 are both out of this world amazing. there are songs in both games that sometimes moves me to tears. That era of Namco was them at the top of their game when it comes to music. - BOUKEN!! I love games that feel like an adventure. Door to Phantomile especially feels like an adventure that keeps escalating and going bigger in scope. I love Rocket Knight Adventures for the same reason. Klonoa has great voice-acted cutscenes full of character (and characters!!) to help with this too. Klonoa 2 has a nice story too by the end, but it misses on this BOUKEN aspect, for most of it, it ends up feeling like you're a little chore boy running a somewhat repetitive errand. - These games are really simple and approachable!! Hideo Yoshizawa came up with the idea for it trying to craft a 3D game that had the straightforwardness and ease of pick-up-and-play of a 2D game, and that intent shines through very clearly. So for anyone reading this who hasn't touched them, please give them a try!! At least the first one, it emulates really nicely on Duckstation! Klonoa 2 I recommend the Phantasy Reverie version, but with the first game you *gotta* play the original and not the remakes. And you gotta play them in order!

[ladyzayismultifandom]

Staying Awake

Steven Grant x Reader

Genre: Smut with heavy temperature play

Description: After restless fights with Marc and Jake, Steven goes to great lengths to stay awake to keep the body while he's with you to prove he has what it takes.

It's only been a couple months since Marc and Steven defeated Harrow and later down the line discovered Jake. Since then the three moon boys have been doing alright with their new routine as one.

Jake was clearly stronger than both of them. Most of the time, he just takes the body whenever he wants, but he stopped doing that unless he felt it was an emergency. So most of the time.

Marc's complicated situation with Layla continued to get worse after the discovery of Jake but he's learning to love himself one day at a time and with that becoming more dependent on none other than Steven despite his many anxiety-filled doubts of him.

Steven found himself a new job that he liked almost more than the museum. A local bookshop with the cutest barista he's ever laid eyes on.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one looking.

The two of you instantly clicked, already liking a lot of the same things, but there was something else that just made you gravitate towards Steven. You had already met Jake and Marc a few times by accident at work but you never questioned Steven about it because you figured once you became as close as you wanted to be one day he'd just tell you.

In a matter of weeks after meeting you, the careful routine the three of them put together melted away just by your mere presence. Any chance to flirt with you Jake took and looking at you through Stevens's eyes simply wasn't enough for Marc.

"Can you guys stop taking the body every time y/n is around? You two are making me look bloody plastered at work!" Steven yells at what others would think is his reflection but he knows Jake and Marc are there mocking him.

"Aye perdon puedo evitarlo y/n es tan bonita" Jake says chuckling to himself

"Yes she is very pretty but if you hog the body all the time I'll never figure out if I have a chance with her" Steven says

"Do you really think you have one?" Marc chimes in

"Excuse me?"

"Aqui viene" Jake sighs

"I'm just saying. We both know she was feeling me when we met even if she doesn't want to tell you she knows you don't have a sleeping disorder or whatever you told her" Marc says matter of factly.

"Oh I know she's not feeling you." Steven pushes back

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Hmm we'll see" Marc smirked right at Jake to which Steven angrily walked away from the men's bathroom mirror back into work.

Usually, Steven would just sit back and let them do what they wanted as long as his life wasn't too interrupted but he drew the line at this. He drew the line at you. So he did the only thing he thought would work.

To build his strength in keeping the body to himself he's been trying to stay awake for as long as possible. It was rigorous but he managed for you. After a couple of days, you start to notice. He'll lean on the bookcase for a while longer than usual when double-checking during inventory hour or hum really loudly to keep himself up when business is slow. It was amusing at first. Sometimes he'd catch you laughing at him falling asleep and he'd blush making you blush too until you realize you're still staring and get back to work. Little did you know Marc and Jake were mocking him some more behind the scenes.

More days go by and Steven is still at it. Fed up you make him some hot tea during his break and sit with him. Unprepared for this he just stares at the drink you put in front of him like it'll evaporate if he looks at it long enough. You grew annoyed.

"I swear it's just tea. I didn't put anything in it." He stares longer.

"Steven, please" This snaps him out of it and he picks it up to take a sip. As he drinks Steven makes a pleasing sound with his mouth that you currently can't stop staring at.

"Oh gods this is good" Steven mumbles.

"Thank you it's my favorite drink to make" You put your hand on your cheek and make it look like you leaning so he doesn't see the ever-growing blush on your face. Something about the way he complimented your drink made your insides quiver for a second.

You weren't quick enough though. If his smile was too big he wouldn't be able to hide it in the cup like he was doing right now.

"Que estas esperando? A por ello!" Jake pushed

Steven cleared his throat startling you a little when he abruptly put his cup down.

"Thank you Y/N"

"You're welcome. Do you need anything else?"

"Don't know what I'd do without you, to be honest," He didn't mean to say that out loud but your gobsmacked face didn't help Steven's self-esteem.

"That was weird. Shit, I'm sor-

"Shut up," You leaned over the table to give him a short and sweet kiss on his lips. When you pull away he takes your arm and pulls you back in. His lips taste of the cinnamon you put in his drink, and his hand couldn't be more gentle. You go to pull away again and he lets you this time. The timer in the back goes off so you get up and with a quick glance back at Steven you go back to work as if nothing happened.

"Ella te quiere hermano" Jake says. Steven takes a final sip of the tea you made and got back to work too.

Later on in their flat Steven struggled to stay awake for the sixth night in a row. Nothing was keeping him up. Thoughts of you plagued his mind like what if the timer didn't go off and what would he had done with the remaining time? He imagined himself taking you right there on the table, or against the bookshelf, or if he was lucky back home in his bed. He'd never detach himself from your sweet lips. The first kiss wasn't enough he wanted more. He needed it.

At the thought of you he touched himself letting his eyes flutter shut for just a moment he saw you in his dreams taking his face in your soft and gentle hands as you kissed. His hand gripped himself harder than he was desperately trying to reach completion. He imagined you underneath him in his bed underneath the thin cold layer of sheets taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust chanting his name like an ancient spell. Your legs perfectly wrapped around his waist like a reunited puzzle piece as your hands start to intertwine with his taking you to the edge of bliss.

"Shit," making a mess of himself he opened his eyes but with time his eyes grew heavy and Steven couldn't fight it any more. He fell asleep.

When Steven woke up the first thing he noticed was that the door was unlocked and so was his ankle bracelet. That only meant one thing. He got up as quick as he could to look all over for any other obvious signs Marc or Jake took the body when he was sleeping.

He went to the bathroom noticing a sweet aroma coming from it. No way was it his soap and he didn't own any candles because he was afraid to burn the flat down so what was it? He looked in the shower and everything seemed normal until he saw a pile of unrecognizable clothes behind the toilet. Whose are these?

He picks up the hidden clothes and raise them up to the mirror

"Okay which of you blokes are shagging someone long enough for them to hide their clothes here? Hmm?"

Jake raises his hands up in a "I don't know" motion while Marc starts to smile from ear to ear.

" Wouldn't you like to know"

"I would actually!"

"Kitchen, Steven" Marc points. Still confused, Steven walks over to the kitchen and sees a covered plate waiting for him with a cup of tea and note on the counter.

Thanks for the late invite. As cute as you are asleep I like you better with your eyes open so please eat for me. See you at work - Y/N (***-***-****)

Steven couldn't contain his smile. He was a bit angry at first because that meant Marc had gone against his wishes but if she felt comfortable enough to leave a note means something good right? That still doesn't explain the clothes...

"She spilled some hot water on herself when making the tea for us"

"Us?"

"Relax. She she only likes you Steven."

"For now" making Stevens's smile quickly turn into a frown.

At work, you wore your usual uniform but underneath that long sometimes obnoxious apron is one of Steven's sweatpants that you managed to fit with enough tightening of the strings and an oversized polo that you tied with a scrunchie in the back. None of your other co-workers questioned it so you must have hid it well.

Last night, someone that you thought was Steven called you, and invited you to his flat, only to reveal a sleepy cranky cranky-looking Steven but it was none other than Marc up to no good. You had already met him before but this was the first time he wasn't trying to hide it.

"You came"

"You called"

"So you saved my number"

"I saved Steven's number"

"Cmon we both know I'm not him"

"But he's in there." You pushed him aside and waltzed into his flat like you own the place. His place was as scattered as you thought it be. Books opened in several places, a single chair at the round dining table, a small kitchen with more food than one would think but that's what happens when you're eating for three.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I work in retail. Nothing shocks me anymore." You say flopping yourself on their bed. Marc laughs at you.

Talking was all you did last night but it had gotten too late for you to go home by yourself so you slept there. Marc didn't touch you because despite all the teasing he knew the only one for you was Steven. For now.

Steven walks into work looking very well rested, a smile on his face because he knows when he sees you that you'll be wearing his clothes. He sees the tied shirt behind your back and couldn't hold in his laugh making you spin around with hot coffee in your hand for a customer rather fast.

"Good morning, Steven"

"It sure is Y/N"

"Be right back" You sit the coffee down for the customer and come back to him with your index finger against your lips.

"Stop giggling" You try to sound serious but it just makes it funnier.

"Stop it" The two of you couldn't stop giggling.

Clocking out couldn't come fast enough. You and Steven decided to go back to his flat to get your clothes so you can stop looking ridiculous in his.

You were here just last night but now that it's actually Steven taking you there it feels different almost exhilarating. Keeping him close you hold on to his arm on the bus not caring how it looks because you're no longer at work and just like his arm you want to hold on to this moment forever. Meanwhile, Steven feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest a second time.

Back in his flat Steven takes your clothes out of the dryer and sits them next to you. You sit up reading one of his many books on Egyptian mythology at his dining table. It's getting late and you don't want to leave just yet.

"Here you go! You can change back into your clothes whenever you want." You nod still reading. Maybe if you fall asleep he'll let you stay.

"You know I used to work at the National Art Gallery. I can give you a tour if you like"

"Are you asking me out, Steven Grant?"

"Yes! I mean only if you want to I-" You leaned over again and kissed him. If this wasn't enough then you didn't know what else to do. Steven felt like putty against your lips. He couldn't get enough. Pulling you up completely he kissed you back wrapping your arms around his neck. His brown curls felt so good tangled in your fingers you gave it a soft tug and he groaned in your mouth making your insides quiver the same way they did the other day. He held you by the waist and pulled you closer you started to feel him growing on you. Pleased with yourself you smile as you pull away. His eyes are swirling with lust.

"Do you wanna fuck me, Steven Grant?"

"Oh gods yes" He kisses you pulling you in so close to him that you can't help but feel his full hard-on. Impressed, you moan in his mouth. Backing him up against the bed you gently push him as you rush your shoes and pants off. He looks up at you with that sexy smug smile before going for your hand but you snatch it away.

"Ah ah ah I need you to trust me okay?" He nodded. For a moment you got up, slid the sweatpants off your ankles, and unclipped your bra so all that was left was your panties and technically Stevens T-Shirt. You weren't planning for this to happen so you didn't feel your sexiest but you still wanted to do this and by the looks of Steven he was into it. Biting your lip you backed up into the kitchen

"What are you-

"Wait for me honey" You call out to be met with a childish groan making you giggle. Finding what you were looking for you came back to Steven with a cup full of ice cubes. Confused, Steven sits up but before he can ask why you had them you set the cup on the nightstand assume the position at the foot of his bed and start crawling to him until you straddled him. His brain short-circuited.

The two of you kissed again. He enjoyed the feeling of you slowly grinding on him as you played with his hair taking in the air whenever he gave you a chance. His hands rested on your waist underneath his shirt that you were still wearing although his shirt was long gone. He's more toned than you expected but you're more than okay with that. With every sultry noise that comes out of his mouth you find yourself getting wetter and you know he can feel it because every time you move on top of him a satisfied sigh comes out of his mouth. His lips move down to your neck as his hands start to reach in other places like the sensitive spot on your lower back and your right breast. You can't help but moan out. Your legs starting to feel like putty on either side of him but you can't help how good it finally feels to be with Steven like this.

He takes his hand away from your lower back, reaches for the cup of ice, and takes a cube.

"Why are you-

"Ah ah darling, now I need you to trust me." He says holding up the ice cube to your mouth. His hand tilts your chin up opening your mouth a little to let him slip it in. You hold it there sucking it a little.

"That's it. Good girl," You knew he felt you gushing because his smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He took another piece of the ice and slowly rubbed your waist where his hands had rested. You hadn't noticed how hard he was holding you but a bruise started to form and the ice brought on a pain that didn't hurt but stung a little. You twitched at the cold sensation rubbing against the fresh wound as Steven steadily started to pinch your right nipple. You've never done this before but it felt so good.

"You still got the cube in your mouth love?" You honestly forgot about it but when you went to feel for it it had melted in your mouth. Shit

"Sucked the life out of it didn't you?" You nodded your head

"I'll give you another chance. Don't let it melt okay?" He grabbed another cube and without question you opened your mouth up for him. After he put it in he grabbed another cube and carefully put it between his lips.

"As much as I enjoy you in my shirt love it's coming off." You raise your hands happily for him having an inkling of what he's about to do. Right when he gets the shirt up to your face he leaves it there. You go to take the rest off but as soon as your hands cross Steven's cold hands smack your ass.

"Keep your hands up love" Without another word his ice-cold lips wrap around your nipple while his other hand plays with the other one meanwhile, your face is covered with his shirt that still smells like him. You were intoxicated with him. So good with his hands so good with his lips so good with his

"Ah!" Shit, you dropped the remaining of the ice cube in your mouth when you felt a surprise cube pressed against your covered clit.

"Endure it"

"Steven ~ " Your needy moan made his dick twitch. He couldn't ignore it forever. You're soaking him in your essence and the ice nicely added to that. Desperate for some friction you grind harder onto him making him jolt a bit. Worried you stopped, uncovered your face put the shirt back down in the process, and took his face in your hands. It was silent between you yet your bodies were screaming for each other. Seeing your desperate lust glazed eyes bore into his was the final string that snapped before he let the horny animal within him take over.

He rolled you over as you kissed your hand still planted on his face holding on to it he pulled away from your lips and moved to the ones below. His breath was cool, sending a shiver up your spine as he cooed at you from below. Taking your panties off was no challenge but not staring certainly was.

"You are so beautiful," You smiled down at him not feeling so shy anymore.

"You ready?" He asked holding up a condom.

"Are you?" You sat up a little on your elbows motioning for Steven to come to you.

"Don't be so cheeky" He said as he guided himself in with one more kiss you enjoyed.

"Oh fuck" you both said in unison as Steven went further in your head stretched back holding on for dear life.

All night Steven took his time rocking into you to hear your pleasing hums of approval turn into more approving screams of his name that he knew Marc and Jake could hear. Sometimes you'd get so loud he'd kiss you to drown you out for the sake of his neighbours. The louder you were the more he did it. It became increasingly obvious that kissing turned you on by the way you squeezed him but he wasn't complaining. It wasn't until he let you back on top that he completely came undone as you sank yourself down on him and didn't hold back. Shortly after coming for the second time all over Steven, he shot up the condom wishing it was you. This moment had him thinking of things like the future, kids, a house, maybe a dog, and simply enough a family. The two would actually have to go on a date first but he'll cross that London bridge when he gets there.

Blissfully fresh the two of you lay underneath his sheets snuggling. Steven looks over to the now cup of water.

"Love?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you get a cup of ice?"

"Just in case"

"Of what?"

"In case you fell asleep" You giggle up at him but he is not amused. Needless to say, he almost pushed you out of his bed. Worth it.

A/N: I know I'm late for kinktober but I'm catching up! Please be patient with me as I pump some more out to get back on track. Fluff day tomorrow!

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics That Start With I (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

I'd Marry You with Phaper Phrings (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Dan doesn't like tradition, unless it's with Phil.

I'll be all you need and more (ao3) - ghostdnp (ghostdnfie)

Summary: Dan knew it wasn't the first, nor the last time he was in this place. He knew it could happen again in the future, but had no idea how much longer he'd be plagued by these thoughts. And that terrified him.

"Dan?"

A gentle voice broke him out of his thoughts, just for a moment.

i'm your biggest fan (ao3) - phegetarian

Summary: Phil is hot, Dan is a fan. This might not be what you think or it's exactly what you think it is.

ice blue (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: The rink glitters white and vast, the sun somehow brighter for being concentrated between buildings.

(ice skating meetcute, for your december season)

Ice cream in the summer heat (ao3) - Frog910

Summary: Dan and Phil go on a date to get ice cream

If we were two sunflowers, I would have faced you instead of the sun (ao3) - twinphantasy

Summary: It didn’t really matter where they were or what they were looking at because Dan would always be looking at Phil.

If You Were Church, I'd Get On My Knees. (ao3) - nebulaedaniel

Summary: Phil is 22, fresh out the closet and forced to hit up the gay club at the last night of pride. Sister Daniel happened to spot him in the crowd and decides to show him a good time.

if you weren't mine (i'd be jealous of your love) (ao3) - phook

Summary: dan and phil reminisce.

everything’s still romantic after fifteen years.

if you're going, take the moon (ao3) - phansong

Summary: An angsty and sappy little drabble about Dan leaving Phil for the first time after they met in 2009

imagine it (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan and Phil cuddle on the tour bus after their Los Angeles show.

(A fic about 15 years and no but seriously imagine it.)

Imagine It (ao3) - Tesseractingrey

Summary: Dan realizes, after 15 years of being with Phil, he may not have commitment issues anymore. This leads to Dan and Phil taking a step that would have been unthinkable, even a year ago, let alone ten years ago.

Impressions (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Art museum guard who knows obsessive amounts about art history x nepo baby curator who has never read a book but keeps knocking it out of the park on vibes alone

Impulse Buy (ao3) - sleepyslag (galacticneighbor)

Summary: Dan needs new underwear to go under his Halloween costume. 4,000 miles away, Phil wants to see them.

in another world, could we? (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Phil loved Dan. He wouldn’t say it to him, of course-not unless one of them was bleeding out or something-but they had been friends for so long. Of course he loved him. It would be stupid not to.

But, as he thought of Not-Dan, with his strange hair and pierced ears and tight clothes, he couldn’t help but wonder.

What would it be like if they were together?

In our garden (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: The boys spend a warm summer afternoon in their garden together<3

in sickness and in health (ao3) - definitelynotczargasm, dizzy

Summary: Dan knows that something is off with Phil while they're on tour, but how can he help if Phil won't actually admit it?

in your jeans, frenzy (ao3) - r1caner

Summary: “What’re you thinking about?” Phil asks.

Dan feels his cheeks go red, hot all the way to his jaw. “Er. Praying,” he says, desperate to avoid telling the truth and telling a lie.

Incapacitated (ao3) - mermaidstailonmyface (louislittletomlintum)

Summary: “Want me to touch you properly?” Phil asked Dan curiously, taking the hand away from both his crotch and his nipple and moving to hook his thumbs into the edge of his swimmers, as if he was going to coax them down.

Dan nodded, squirming to try and help before Phil put his hand on Dan’s stomach to still him.

“Beg, then,” Phil encouraged, in exactly that same tone but it did something so different to Dan that he almost felt his stomach drop out of his arse.

or the one where dan has a broken arm and needs help with washing his hair

Indoor Cats (ao3) - theheartnexttophan

Summary: Dan and Phil return to the phouse after the American & Australian legs of tour and take a moment to reflect and relax before bed.

Ineffable (ao3) - philsbignaturals

Summary: In which Phil gets real horny for Dan in the Howley outfit

Inheriting love (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: Dan lives and works in a small village where everyone knows everyone. A place where everything is typical, until Phil comes along.

instructions unclear (ao3) - danisnotreadingfanfic (snowdude)

Summary: this came to me in a dream. i am sorry.

into temptation (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Phil searches, following the sound, and sees the shape of someone moving through the crowd, a shimmer like a fish in water, there and then gone: a bare shoulder in a black tank top, the flash of a silver earring, dark curly hair, the side of a face. A moment later, and the shimmer’s come out by the bar, and Phil forgets to look away.

Interrupted By Sirens (ao3) - SecretLlama_22

Summary: Dan is part of a mission leaving earth with destination of some far away galaxy. He doesn't mind really, leaving earth and all his friends behin. It's his job and he's happy to do it.

But one day they pass an inhabited asteroid field and the inhabitants cause a little trouble in his relationship to his fellow crew member Phil Lester. And, why did this space siren turn into HIM trying to seduce Phil?

iPads and Tour Bunks (ao3) - dnpangels

Summary: Phil tries to watch Netflix on his huge iPad in his tour bunk, but it falls on his face and causes him pain. Dan is there to make fun of him but also to comfort him.

Basically, it's just pure tour bus fluff.

ironic. (ao3) - razussy

Summary: dan and phil now have a luxurious three days to relax and enjoy themselves before their show in san diego. one out of the many activities, phil showcased his newest purchase to dan.

is it casual now? (ao3) - r3dbull (orphan_account)

Summary: They break up but meet again.

It Came To Me In A Dream (ao3) - serendipnpipity

Summary: Working at Asda has its perks. He may not be the happiest to help, no matter what the words cheerfully emblazoned across the badge affixed to his shirt insist. He is, however, happy to be a nosy little prick who uses his employee privileges to inch closer and closer to the arguing pair until maybe they notice and tell him to bugger off.

It’s 8:30 am. He could use a little drama.

***

Or: Dan of 2009 meets Dan of 2024.

it drives you crazy getting old (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Or, Phil got hurt. Again.

it is you (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: @danisnotonfire: I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone D:

When Dan gets permission to spend a week with Phil in December, he has a stunning realisation.

It Only Takes a Moment: A Dan and Phil WALL-E AU (ao3) - trancelover99

Summary: So, I've been thinking about this WALL-E AU where Dan and Phil replace Wall-E and Eve for a while, and I thought I should get around to making it! I hope you all enjoy it!

It's Buzzcut Season Anyway (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Phil really, really, wants to touch up the blonde before going to Australia but with the Thanksgiving weekend and the general last-minute chaos of the holiday season, there are no available appointments to get his hair bleached before they get on their next flight. Luckily for him, there's an impulsive idea, a Walgreens beauty aisle, and a hotel bathroom to make it work.

It's either bathmat green or agony (ao3) - sunshine_and_storm_clouds

Summary: It was day 34 of Dan being gone on tour, and Phil had only left the house to see his parents or the occasional friend. The breeze from the fan brushed his chilled skin, and he shivered.

----

Phil really, REALLY misses Dan when he's away.

It's quiet uptown (ao3) - Frog910

Summary: Dan is spending Christmas with the Lester's for the first time and is struggling with internalised homophobia.