#but i just really wanted to write something for robbe's 18th

[allforyoumylovely]

If anyone’s interested, here’s a little fluffy something about how I imagine Robbe and Sander spent the night yesterday after all the birthday celebrations 💕

In a pool of late August sunset

The upper lid on Robbe’s right eye has 122 eyelashes. The other has 117. Sander counts them over and over while Robbe sleeps off the last remnants of his hangover on his chest, damp-haired and warm and sweet-smelling of apples and soap from the shower. Last night, his lashes were cast in dark neon red, framing his brown, almost black, shimmering eyes. Right now, they’re fanned out across the top of his cheeks, golden, the very ends nearly transparent in the patch of buttery evening sunlight that pours over Sander’s couch.

Sander absentmindedly runs his nails over Robbe’s scalp and smooths a hand up and down his spine over the old Bowie shirt that Robbe has claimed as his own. In response, Robbe unconsciously burrows deeper into him, letting out a deep, contented sigh in his sleep, and something squeezes behind Sander’s ribs. Robbe hasn’t been very talkative today, has mostly just been lying curled up against Sander’s side, sleeping, eating junk food, and then sleeping some more.

This angel-like boy with slack, parted lips and slightly pink cheeks squished against Sander’s sternum couldn’t possibly be a bigger contrast to the boy he was last night.

At the club, Robbe was all heavy eyelids, pretty cheekbones in the flashing lights, and sweat-glistening collarbones under a too-big t-shirt. As a joke, the boys had bought him a tacky, gold birthday tiara with the number 18 on it which Robbe had happily worn askew on his head along with bright, loose smiles on his rosy lips that Sander – lovesick and possessive – had kissed and kissed and kissed on the dance floor and at their table to the boys’ groans and complaints. Whenever and wherever he could get his mouth on him, he did it, the bottle of liquor in Robbe’s hand hitting his shoulder blade when he threw his arms around his neck.

Although Robbe had insisted on buying his own alcohol – “I’m eighteen now,” he said with equal parts wonder and nonchalance, “I can buy whatever the fuck I want” – he could easily have left his card at home and still get plastered; girls and boys offered him drinks and shots left and right the whole night. Sander didn’t blame them, though; if he and Robbe weren’t together, he would more than likely have done the same thing, hoping to get those Bambi eyes on him for just a few moments.

Robbe knows he’s beautiful. It’s evident in the way his eyes shine like new stars; it’s in the poise of his shoulders and his every movement, easy and natural. Sander doesn’t have to remind him, but he does anyway. Every day. And he’s bursting at the seams with pride at how Robbe has settled into himself, at how secure he is in who he is now at eighteen compared to his melancholy and miserable but equally as sweet sixteen-year-old self.

Of course he got offered drinks. But when the seventh person approached Robbe, Sander had enough, his chest flaring and burning, and he latched onto Robbe’s neck, taking great delight in Robbe trying to politely decline their offer while he, calculated and devilish, put his tongue and teeth to work, showing them exactly who this boy belonged to.

As Robbe’s coordination started to leave him, so did his filter. “I want you to fuck me in the bathroom,” he told Sander with a boyish bluntness and a kiss-slick, raspberry red mouth while hanging off his neck, nipping at his bottom lip, drunk and loose-limbed and stumbling to the bass-heavy music. And Sander had taken that as his cue to get him home.

When they finally sank into Sander’s bed at four in the morning, stripped of their clothes, teeth brushed (which Robbe did in slow-motion with his eyes closed, taking forever), Robbe whispered, pouty and soft, ”Can we make out for a bit?”

Carding his fingers through his tangled hair, Sander leaned into him and pressed his smile against Robbe’s, tasting and licking and swallowing all his pretty little sounds, but never taking it any further, just keeping it languid and sweet.

Smiling at the thought, Sander brushes a finger over a crimson smudge on the side of Robbe’s neck just below his earlobe, gently pressing into it. The light finds its way to the freckles scattered on the bridge of Robbe’s nose and over his cheekbones, little grains of brown sugar. When one starts to fade, Sander has noticed, another always appears. He finds new ones every day.

As he slips his finger under the chain around Robbe’s neck and places the angel over his own heart, Robbe’s groggy, brown eyes – always a different shade: maple syrup, dark chocolate, honey-gold with sprinkles of stardust – find his.

“Hey,” Sander says, pushing a few locks of hair away from his forehead.

With a sleepy groan, Robbe stretches the best he can in Sander’s hold and clears his throat when no sound comes out as he tries to speak. “Hi,” he whispers.

Sander gives him the glass of water on the coffee table when Robbe hoists himself up a bit and makes a grabby hand at it. ��Feel any better?”

Gulping the whole glass down, Robbe nods and collapses back down on Sander’s chest, a hand sneaking under the hem of his shirt. “I’m never drinking again,” he pouts.

“But it looked like you had a good night,” Sander smiles.

And Robbe looks up at him again, droopy-eyed and hoarse and cute. “The best night. Thank you for celebrating with me, baby.” He throws his thigh over Sander’s hips and Sander follows the line of lean muscle with his palm. “But…”

“But what?” Sander mumbles, their mouths brushing as Robbe creeps closer.

Dropping his gaze, a bashful little smile spreads on Robbe’s face, and Sander hooks a finger under his chin, tilting it back up. “But you didn’t fuck me,” Robbe finally says.

“Ah,” Sander smirks, tracing the curve of Robbe’s bottom lip that is almost as soft as he is between his thighs, his other hand already disappearing beneath the waistband of his underwear. “You want that?”

“Yeah,” Robbe exhales when he feels Sander dragging their hips together in a teasing roll.

And Sander flips him around on his back and splays him out over the couch cushions, pushing up his shirt and peeling down his sweatpants, kissing his lips, knees, stomach, hipbones. He has reached for him, he has held him, he has had him like this at sixteen, at seventeen, and now at eighteen; his honey-tongue that he has memorized the shape of; his gold-dappled eyes sweeping over his features; his tender hands on his waist and jaw. And Sander gets a glimpse of it: the rest of their lives together, celebrating birthdays, their shirts tangled up in their laundry, napping in a pool of late August sunset before having lazy sex on the couch.

He is made of nothing but love for this boy, and right there in the fading light, trapped between Robbe’s legs, when the world around him only consists of bright white, and his pulse is a fluttering mess, and every muscle and tendon and cell is shivering, Sander presses his mouth to his safe place, the warm crook of Robbe’s neck, and knows that he’ll still have home there in ten, twenty, fifty years.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 18th, Friday 05:28

Jens waited. Patiently watched the slow rising and falling of the half uncovered bare chest of the boy next to him. It was soothing to see the ease behind the movment.

He was uncertain when exactly he had woken up, given the everpresent darkness of the winter. But he couldn’t have gotten much sleep. That was quite evident in the heaviness of his eyes. At least it must have been a little more than the last couple of days. Not that it didn’t fell awfully short of a proper rest.

With a sigh on his lips, he let his gaze wander up his boyfriends chest, past the dip above the collarbone that gave way to the curve of the slim neck he knew blind. Jens had buried his face in it more than he could count by now.

His eyes reached the jawline and then the chin and lastly the lips, slightly parted. His boyfriend was just very faintly snoring. A smile dared to cross Jens, until his boyfriend stirred awake, Lucas’s eyes blinking open with a low groan.

The alarm had rung.

“I’m sorry.”

The whisper came fast over Jens’s lips, faster than he had anticipated, leading Lucas to turn onto his side. Only to face Jens with an odd confusion at the first words exchanged this early friday morning. However last night must have caught up with Lucas, as it visibly dawned on him how they had left off.

A deep frown graced his boyfriend’s face.

Jens had turned yesterday’s argument over and over again in his head, unable to find peace with it when it painfully accurately ended up the way it did every single time. He hated his past self so much. Therefore Jens had vowed to be a better person, better than with everyone he had been before, and just apologise right away. It had worked last time Jens had fucked up. He prayed it would be enough this time around as well. 

Lucas hadn’t gone home. His boyfriend had stayed. Jens had felt the weight dropping from his shoulders the second he had seen the younger boy already fast asleep upstairs in bed at half past eleven. It must surely count for something, right?

“It‘s okay. I absolutely understand why you were so frustrated. I really should have just done it.” 

Jens decided that he didn’t deserve his boyfriend.

“No, it is not okay. It isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine alone. My house, my things. You helping out so much shouldn’t be the norm. And more than anything, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, especially over such a small thing.”

The two boys fell quiet again for a long second after Jens’s apology. He didn’t believe he should be let that easily of the hook. He should do more than say a couple of words. Jens was sure he had hurt Lucas with his anger over forgotten laundry. 

“Thank you.” Jens breathed out. This was really what he wanted to say all along. 

“For what?”

“Being here?” Jens replied unsure of what exactly made him feel all the things he felt, when he constantly found himself looking at Lucas. Overly grateful for very stolen glance he got, without getting caught by blue eyes staring back.

“Being you, really. Thank you for staying.“ Jens took another deep breath before he continued. „Thank you for not leaving me. I don’t think I could have managed the last couple of weeks without you. And thank you for just accepting all of it. I’m afraid I wouldn’t have done the same if the roles were reversed, to be honest. And to know that feels shit.”

It was true. The moment he came to acknowledge the conclusion Jens had reached last night, after he had joined Lucas in bed, with a mind racing lacking a goal, had been shattering. Jens wouldn’t have stayed around his previous girlfriends. Jens hadn’t stayed around for Robbe, when his best friend needed him most, without a mother and home to stay. 

He knew he wouldn’t have stayed for Lucas if it had been the younger boy’s mom instead.

If he hadn’t already cried as much already, he certainly would have again as he had watched the dark shadows of the branches outside his window. Without tears, he only felt hurt, until exhaustion lead him to fall asleep.

“Well, aren’t we lucky then, that I am the one to help you out.” Lucas said as a matter of fact, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Maybe Jens could cry now? He felt like he should, given his heart was beating fast and loud up to his throat.

“Are you like godsend?“ Jens asked into the space between them. „Honestly. Did you cut of your wings or something. Because I seriously don’t understand how you showed up at my doorstep the moment I needed you most. A person to lean on, to trust. I don’t get it.”

Lucas just laughed back at him, amused by the crinkling of his eyes, as his eyes were still focused on Jens. He felt genuinly dumbfounded at the reaction. He knew it didn’t sounded cool or well worded, but still, it was the most honest he could be at the moment. How else was he able to convey his feelings in a better, more accurate way?

“Sorry.“ Lucas quickly apologised, calming steadly down. The smirk never left. „You are just so cheesy. What movie did you get that from?”

“My own. I’m writing it as we speak.” Jens teased, his confidence brought back, after he had to endure to have been laughed at. Jens couldn’t help but join in on the pleasant joy his boyfriend showed. Perhaps it was a little funny. It almost made him forget about last night. He hoped it would do the same for Lucas. He prayed his boyfriend could forget about it as fast as he could forgive Jens.

„You didn’t know shit about me in October. And when you found out, you somehow decided that this would be a great first relationship experience to have? Why, Luc? Why?“

It was a question Jens had asked himself so often til now, it was burned into his skull. He just couldn’t believe a person to be capable of glossing over the fact, that this was a miserable thing to get oneself into. Willingly on top of it.

„I don’t know. It just felt right, I guess.“ The younger boy said with a shrug of his shoulder.

Jens just decidedly stared at the boy in wonder. Again the voice inside his head reminding him that he didn’t deserve his boyfriend. This was gonna become a common thought, Jens feared.

Lucas didn’t apparently minded the fast pace of change between them. Screaming and hurting in one moment. Forgiving and joking in the next. Because Lucas simply leaned over, kissing Jens out of his stupor, before the younger boy got up.

„Come on, you can’t be late to school two days in a row.“ His boyfriend stated and Jens unfortunately had to agree, as he watched Lucas throw on a hoodie and socks.

„Lucas?“ Jens called for him, as the boy was up and almost at the door, to leave for the bathroom. Jens wasn’t sure where the drastic need suddenly stemmed from. It was the wrong time for it. It really was. Especially after yesterday and everything Jens had done and said. This morning hadn’t been long enough to let the boys forget about it. But Jens just had to say it out loud. Let Lucas know, before the younger boy would leave the room. So Jens sat cautiously up from his spot on the bed, biting his bottom lip.

„Yes?“ 

„I love you.“

He could see the moment it hit Lucas, as the boy paused in his movement. The hand raised to open the door, but never grabbed the knob, instead hovering between the wooden plane and the boy’s body, as he turned slowly. 

Jens shouldn’t have said it. He strongly believed to have been right in his assumption, until Lucas’s face lit up in adoration, a grin reaching from one ear to the other.

„I love you, too.“

And then the younger boy opened the door and left.

Jens just fell back into the pillows, too bewildred to get up right away. 

He could probably take another minute. He needed to take another minute.

__ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

notes are in the tags somehow... thanks for sticking around! 

[bijvoorbeeldja]

HBD, Robbe

Sander has been preparing something really special for Robbe’s birthday.

///////

Sander hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

He’d been buzzing from the excitement of the preparation for Robbe’s birthday, so anxious to have everything be just right.

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he finally rolled carefully to the edge of the bed, gently removing the blankets and tiptoeing to the door of their bedroom. Robbe, tangled in the mess of sheets with his curly hair sticking this way and that, stirred only for a moment before drifting back to sleep, his breath deep and gentle. Sander’s heart squeezed a little at the sight of him. He loved that boy.

Turning on a light in the kitchen, he found the piece of paper where he’d written the recipe for waffles. He’d called Robbe’s mom weeks ago, listening intently and copying down her specific instructions for his favorite recipe. This breakfast had to be perfect. The day had to be perfect. Exactly right.

He gathered ingredients, opening and closing cupboards gently to muffle any noise. Apart from the usual din from the street outside and the normal nightly sounds of their settling apartment, all was quiet. He liked this time of night, especially now that he’d found the right adjustment of his medication. Things had been better. Now, his thoughts weren’t swirling around in his head violently, and his feelings weren’t suffocating him all the time. Now, he just felt...solitude. And it was in these reverential moments that Sander could think without hindrance on the good things that the past year had brought him. Above all, Robbe. He’d forever be thanking his lucky stars that he’d seen him that night under the moonlight, grateful that even with the challenges, he’d found his one. 

Robbe was so kind, so pure and selfless, and Sander didn’t feel like he deserved him. He didn’t know why Robbe loved him so much, but he trusted in that. He clung to it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life trying to reciprocate that love. Starting with his love’s 18th birthday. 

Before diving into the cooking, Sander quietly tiptoed around the apartment, placing balloons and the big banner he’d painted after school a few weeks back. He hung his favorite pictures of them around the room, smiling at each one as he put them on every surface. Him and Robbe tangled together on the couch. A selfie at a concert they went to. Robbe listening to music, eyes closed and serene. Robbe in the bathtub, trying to hide his face from Sander’s lens. Sander cherished these snapshots.

When he felt the apartment was appropriately festive, he started cooking. He made a mountain of waffles, sliced fruit of every color, and brewed hot coffee. The warm colors of the morning were peeking through the curtains and Sander knew that the light, along with the pleasant smells from the kitchen, would wake Robbe. But he couldn’t wait for him to appear in the kitchen, shirtless, ethereal, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he came to kiss him. When the table was set, he hurried to their room, creaked open the door, and glanced once more at the angel in his bed.

Finally, he couldn’t stand it. He hopped onto the bed, crawling over to Robbe’s small frame. He straddled him, leaning down to pepper kisses over his face and down his neck. Soon, the boy was stirring, smiling with his eyes still closed.

“Well, this is a nice wake-up call,” he mumbled, still groggy.

“Happy birthday, Robbe! My love is eighteen today!” Sander said excitedly, joy spilling from his mouth, as he continued to squeeze Robbe and kiss all the skin he could reach. 

“Ah, yes. My birthday. Well, what the birthday boy wants right now is for his boyfriend to get back in his bed and kiss him.”

“Ahh, is that right?” Sander said, smiling.

Robbe nodded. “Yep.”

“Well, the birthday boy gets what he wants,” Sander said, crawling underneath the covers and scooting towards Robbe. Their breath was mingling and Sander felt the warmth of Robbe’s body radiating towards him. He could already feel himself getting dazed.

“Mmmhmm, yep. This is perfect,” Robbe said, reaching out and pulling Sander closer. He slid his hands up to Sander’s face, leaning in to kiss him. It started slow, the good morning, love kisses, sweet and soft. But as Sander kissed him back, Robbe arched even more towards Sander, leaning into him and deepening their embrace. He began to kiss Sander more intensely, sucking on his lips and feeling his tongue. Sander could feel warm energy begin to course through his body and he couldn’t resist leaning right back into Robbe’s yearning. Robbe felt Sander’s submission and began letting his hands roam, down his hips and his thigh, hitching it up to wrap around Robbe’s waist. Sander’s breath caught in his throat, and he let a gentle moan escape him before smiling into Robbe’s next kiss. This boy, this angel, Bambi-like boy, could still turn him completely inside out with want. Now, Robbe was rolling Sander onto his back, settling on top of him as he began kissing down his neck, no longer with gentle pecks but rough bite-like tugs with his lips. 

Sander could no longer control his breathing; it was getting shallow and fast, and soon, all he was going to be able to think about was the pleasure their bodies made together. Before Robbe’s hands or lips could reach to the waistband of his underwear, he grabbed his shoulders gently.

“Wait, Robbe.” He started to sit up, looking down at Robbe’s confused, slightly embarrassed face. 

“I’m sorry, was I not doing a good job? I—” he began, but Sander reached over and held the boy’s face in his hands.

“Robbe, no. It wasn’t that at all. If you want, we can spend your whole birthday in this bed, doing whatever you want. You’re amazing and you can turn me on just by looking at me. I swear.” 

Robbe’s face softened, the worry lines on his forehead relaxing. 

“Then what?” He said softly.

“If we’re going to have sex, and believe me, I am more than okay with that, I think you need fuel first. You have to have breakfast on your birthday.”

Robbe blushed, and Sander could tell that he wasn’t used to being treated this way, having someone spoil him. Sander wanted to do that for him forever.

“Sander, you really don’t need to do all of that. It’s not a big deal.” He started to smirk, a teasing tone creeping into his voice. “All I’m really hungry for is you.” He started to crawl towards Sander again, but Sander hopped out of bed before Robbe could bewitch him again. 

“Nonsense,” he said quickly, trying to gather his bearings. “Birthday breakfast in bed is a must. Stay here.” 

Sander ran to the kitchen, gathering the feast onto a tray which he brought inro their bedroom, singing enthusiastically to Robbe as he did so. Robbe laughed, covering his face with his hands, but smiling wide through his fingers. Sander’s smile was just as wide.

…..

When plates were emptied of food and stomachs achingly full, the two boys lay together, Robbe’s head on Sander’s chest, breathing in unison. They drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming calmly while never breaking their touch on the other. When they woke up again, later in the morning, Sander was eager to give Robbe his present. He couldn’t wait another second. 

He grabbed the long, wrapped box from the closet where he’d hidden it, presenting it to Robbe with a big grin. 

“Happy birthday, my dear Robin,” he said. 

Robbe smiled at the gift, wrapped in blue paper with a gold ribbon. He pulled out first a folded piece of paper, which was tucked under the ribbon. Robbe unfolded the letter, beginning to read the lines carefully. Sander had spent days writing this letter to Robbe, trying to get all of his feelings down. It was unusual at first, trying to form the right words; art was his medium, not the written word. But he kept going, allowing everything he felt for Robbe to spill out onto the paper, as ungraceful as it may have felt.

He watched Robbe’s face as he read, smiling when he smiled, laughing when he laughed. Robbe mouthed the words Sander had written, savoring them completely. Sander even watched him blush and whine “Sander!” when he watched him reach a particularly dirty — and descriptive — portion of the letter. Finally, the boy reached the end, folding the letter back up and placing it gently in his lap. 

“I love you, too, Sander.” He said, his face lit up with the words Sander had dedicated to him. “So much.” He turned then to the present, turning it over in his hands. As he carefully ripped off the paper to reveal a long box, his face grew quizzical. 

“Sander, what in the world is this?” 

But Sander just smiled, sitting at the edge of bed, wringing his hands in nervous, but excited, anticipation. Then Robbe opened the box, revealing Robbe’s skateboard. It was definitely his, scratched and worn, marked by years of use.

“What—” Robbe said, with a puzzled look on his face.

“Turn it over,” Sander said quietly, nerves now twisting at his stomach. What if he hated it?

Robbe flipped the skateboard over, revealing Sander’s most recent masterpiece. On the underside of his board, Sander had painted them. It was Robbe and Sander, their faces connected, but veiled by a layer of rippling water. This painting — it was their first kiss. Vibrant blue hues and undulating lines clearly depicted the two boys, having just emerged from the water of the swimming pool, hungry for each other’s lips. 

Sander could hardly breathe, watching Robbe take in the work, running his fingers lightly over the colors of the image. It felt like minutes were passing in silence.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sander finally said. “I—I guess I just wanted you to have this memory with you.”

Robbe finally looked up at Sander, his eyes wet with tears. 

Sander’s heart dropped. What had he done? Maybe this skateboard had other meaning to Robbe. It wasn’t his to tamper with. Or maybe Robbe just thought it was stupid and couldn’t believe this is what Sander had actually gifted him for his birthday. Stupid, stupid Sander.

But before these intrusive thoughts could overtake him, he felt the bed move underneath him. Robbe was placing the skateboard gently down beside him on the bed, crawling over to Sander, and kneeled right in front of him, grabbing his face with both hands. Sander watched the tears gather and spill down Robbe’s cheeks.

“Sander,” he said. “This is the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given.” He paused before speaking again, this time in a softer voice, almost a whisper. “You are wonderful and I don’t deserve you.”

Sander felt like his insides were melting. Love was spilling from every vein in his body, fueling him alive. Robbe liked the gift. Oh, how he loved him. If only he could see how it was the opposite — that he truly didn’t deserve Robbe.

Robbe kissed him once, twice, three times, before pulling back and throwing his arms around Sander, holding him in a tight embrace. 

“Best birthday ever,” Robbe whispered against his neck, sending warm shivers down Sander’s spine. As Robbe pulled back, looking at Sander, he smiled.

“Now,” Robbe said, sitting up, suddenly all business. “Time to finish what we started this morning. I’ve got some good insight from your letter on what you think my best physical characteristics are, so….” his voice got suddenly low as he leaned down to whisper in Sander’s ear. “Get ready to have your world rocked, Mr. Driesen.” 

Sander gulped, his body suddenly feeling like flames. He was not sure he was ready for eighteen-year-old Robbe. 

[all-things-skam]

Jens’ season | Chapter three

Saturday, January 18th

After the pre-game at Robbe’s, they all moved to some party Jana had found and invited them to. He and Jana had made out a bit, but Jens’ mind couldn’t help wandering to Lucas who was making his phone buzz in his pocket. It felt wrong to make out with someone while thinking about someone else. Jens couldn’t do it. So, he made up some lie about feeling dizzy from alcohol and needing to go home.

Regardless, the night had ended late for Jens. He and Lucas had messaged back and forth all night, getting to know each other through Instagram DMs.

Jens learned that Lucas liked Indie Pop music and hated Marvel movies - even though they look really cool. They are just too long and Lucas could never sit through a whole movie. He broke his arm last year trying to do a trick on the half-pipe, but that didn't stop him from going back on his skateboard the following day. Sweet food was his favorite - as stated at the café. Cakes, pastries, chocolate, pancakes...anything sweet.

The more they chatted, Jens realized that Lucas must have plans with his friends. He only got to see them every other weekend and Jens felt bad from keeping the blue-eyed boy on his phone instead of spending time with them. But, Lucas assured him it was okay, that actually he was glad to have company.

His Friday night didn't go how he had expected it to. What was supposed to be a bowling night ended up being Lucas walking a drunk Isa home after she threw up in the bushes in front of the bowling alley. While he had a good laugh trying to get Isa upstairs, he’d rather lay in bed and talk with Jens.

When he woke up, Jens saw a notification from Lucas. His phone was so close to his face due to falling asleep with it last night that the flashing screen made him groan. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the screen.

vanderheijden.lucas Jens? Still there?

vanderheijden.lucas Did you fall asleep? If so, good night. I think I’m going to crash too

A smile crept on Jens’ face, reading Lucas’ messages.

Before he could write anything back, his door opened and Lotte ran and jumped on her big brother’s bed, attacking Jens with morning hugs. A bit startled, Jens’ phone slipped from his hands, landing on his comforter. Lotte screeched as Jens caught her and started tickling her.

''S-stop, stop,'' she demanded between giggles, wiggling and trying to push Jens away with her hands and feet. ''It t-tickles.''

Jens pursued his tickle attack for a couple seconds, stopping when he felt his sister’s breath shorten. ‘’That’s what you get for waking me so early.’’

Lotte frowned. ‘’It’s not early. It’s 10am.’’

‘’For me, it is.’’

The eight year old rolled her eyes, annoyed at her brother's late sleeping-in and morning laziness. ‘’I have something for you.’’

Sitting straighter, Jens raised an eyebrow, curious. ‘’Oh? What is it?’’

Looking around on the mattress, Lotte picked up the piece of paper at the end of Jen's bed and handed him the card she made. It was made out of pink cardboard paper and had drawings of colorful balloons on the cover, spelling 'Happy Birthday' in bold letters. There was a ton of stickers and glitter all around, making a mess on Jens' comforter.

The paper was a bit crumpled from the tickle attack, but it's the thought that mattered. Jens smiled and opened the card, reading Lotte's crooked handwriting. These homemade cards his sister gave him every year were Jens' favorite birthday presents - beside money and alcohol. They were childish, but so meaningful.

His smile widened as he read the short yet heartfelt message. He could tell she had the help of a teacher for the spelling, but they were her words.

''I'm going to a sleepover at Ines' tonight and won't be here to give it to you,’’ Lotte explained.

Jens pulled his sister for a big bear hug. “Thank you for this. You're the best little sister ever,'' he said, returning her own words. Lotte grinned and Jens decided to tease her a bit. ‘’You’re the only sister I have though...don’t have much of a choice.’’

The brunette pulled her eyebrows, giving her brother a look.

‘’I’m kidding.’’ Jens scooted over, tapping the space next to him. ‘’Get in. We can watch a movie before I have to get ready.’’

Lotte looked at Jens with the biggest grin on her face. “Can we watch the new Dr. Dolittle?”

Discontentment and annoyance flashed across Jens’ face. Animal movies were not his thing. Cats & Dogs, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Marmaduke; he couldn't stand those. As a kid, he was always more into super heroes like Spiderman or Batman. He would watch those for hours on repeat - and had managed to learn all the lines.

The pout on Lotte’s face made him cave and reach for his laptop, about to look for that damn Dr. Dolittle movie.

.

''Birthday boy is here!'' Moyo called cheerfully, phone in hand, filming as Jens made his entrance into the flatshare. He hooked an arm around Jens' shoulder, pulling him in a bro hug. ‘’How does it feel to be seventeen?’’

Jens rolled his eyes at Moyo’s question. ‘’I don’t know. It’s not my birthday, yet…’’ he pointed out, laughing.

Aaron stepped in next, pushing a beer into Jens' hands. They had stronger stuff in the kitchen, but Aaron figured he could start with a beer. It was only 9pm, too early to get drunk. Unless you want to spend your evening sleeping in a corner or with your head in the toilet.

This party was a last minute idea. The initial plan was to go to a bar, but they were all too broke to go out - perks of being a teenager. Neither of the boys could host either, their parents all home this weekend. Except Robbe, who was at the flatshare. But, the place was already taken by Milan’s own birthday party. Having heard their dilema, Milan kindly offered to share his party and celebrate Jens’ birthday too. After all, birthday siblings gotta stick together.

Jens accepted the beer and took a long swig. ‘’Let’s get this party started!’’

Moyo and Aaron cheered on each of his sides, pulling their friend through the mass of people in the living room where they found Robbe - attached to Sander's neck, dancing.

The small boy detached himself from Sander when he spotted Jens, wishing his best friend a happy birthday. Sander did the same, exchanging a quick hug in greetings before pulling Robbe back to him, kissing his cheek.

In true Milan fashion, the apartment was decorated to the max. There was paper streamers taped all over the walls and ceilings along with balloons and even a huge banner on the living room’s wall. A pink fringed curtain separated the kitchen from the rest, as if to let everyone know where the good stuff was.

Jana quickly found Jens, stumbling and holding onto his shoulder for stability. ‘’Happy birthday,’’ she said to him, throwing her arms around his neck and spilling some wine on the floor. Thank god it was white wine.

.

Sunday, January 19th

Jens was a bit hungover when he woke up.

Who was he trying to fool? He was totally hungover. All the alcohol he had downed and mixed felt heavy in his stomach, threatening to come back up. His head was pounding and his back was aching due to sleeping on Milan’s couch.

Over all, he felt like...death.

Jens grunted in displeasure, trying to roll over and grab his phone on the floor - unplugged. If his head didn't hurt this much, he would’ve laughed at his failed attempt to plug his phone, the charger laying a few centimeters from his phone with no phone attached. Good job, Drunk-Jens…

He unlocked the screen and saw a message from his mom, asking what time he was planning to come home - followed by a quick ‘happy birthday’.

Sighing, Jens turned it off and stood, feeling the room spin for a few seconds, probably still a little bit drunk. Steadying himself, he walked past Aaron’s sleeping bag and almost tripped on Moyo’s makeshift bed on the floor. Can’t this boy clean up after himself? Or, was Jens too clumsy?

He heard Zoe and Milan talking, quickly followed by the sound of Moyo and Sander laughing. Jens followed the voices, coming from the kitchen, hood covering his messy hair.

''And he's up!'' Moyo commented as he made his entrance, interrupting the current conversation.

''How's the birthday boy feeling this morning?'' Milan teased, sensing his hangover.

Aaron and Moyo snickered and Jens flipped them off. ''Like I got rolled over by a fucking truck,'' he answered honestly, voice croaky from the lack of hydration.

Last night, Jana had made him chug wine while they danced, and the boys vodka. Seventeen shots for his seventeenth birthday. What a great idea.

Sander was sitting on the kitchen counter - lacking seats -, sipping coffee with Zoe. It was unlike him to wake up before Robbe - or be anywhere without him -, but someone had to make decent coffee.

‘’Want some?’’ Zoe kindly offered.

Jens nodded and she poured him a cup. Hopefully it'll wake him up and ease his hangover - or make it disappear altogether.

‘’Want some vodka in your coffee?’’ Sander asked with a smirk.

Jens made a grimace, stomach churning. ‘’Don’t mention the devil.’’

Sander laughed and got down from the counter, asking if anyone wanted breakfast. Zoe offered to help, knowing no one else could cook in this household.

They took everyone’s orders, settling on eggs and pancakes. Usually, Jens would be down for some good homemade breakfast, but there was no way he could stomach food right now. Just the smell of it made his stomach turn.

Head on the kitchen table, the birthday boy listened as Moyo shared his retelling of last night's escapades. Since his failed attempt with Noor, his pride was a bit wounded and he had taken Aaron's spot as the desperate one of the gang. He ranted about this cute blonde with a plunging top, putting emphasis on how close he was to kissing her, but skipped the part where she slapped him. Too bad for him, Jens happened to have caught the scene when coming out of the bathroom.

And while they all agreed Aaron was the worst in the flirting department... Moyo wasn't much better.

As they were talking, Jens felt like his head was about to explode, how was he supposed to go home like this later? He doubted his hangover would go unnoticed by his parents. Especially his mom. It’s like she has a sixth sense or something.

Just as Zoe and Sander deposited the food on the table, a sleepy eyed Robbe walked into the kitchen, hair messy and sticking up here and there. He wasn't even wearing pants, just an oversized tee shirt, covering just enough.

“Do I smell pancakes?” he asked.

Sander snorted, unimpressed. ‘’Of course, that’s what gets you out of bed.” Robbe smiled lazily and went to sit on Sander’s lap, already missing his boyfriend’s touch. “Now I know what gets you up in the morning!”

Robbe pressed his forehead against Sanders, mumbling quietly. “I can tell you of a few other things that get me up in the morning”

“Hey, we are eating here, man,” Moyo groaned, tearing his eyes away from the couple and scrunching his face.

“Well, at least you don’t have to live with them 24/7” Milan lamented.

Zoe agreed, scooping a pancake onto a plate and taking it to the counter to eat. The kitchen was a tad bit small for all these people, but they made it work.

‘’You’re not eating?’’ the blonde asked Jens, eyebrows raised, but the boy shook his head. ‘’It might not sound like it, but eating could make you feel better. Alcohol causes low blood sugar. Eating breakfast actually helps get your sugar levels up while the alcohol comes out of your system.’’

‘’I’m good.

Jens felt his phone buzz in his hand. He lifted his head and Looked at the screen, seeing an Instagram notification.

vanderheijden.lucas sent you a message.

Jens opened his phone and stared at a flashing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ gif.

vanderheijden.lucas I hope you had a great birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there, but I’ll definitely see you next Friday

.

Monday, January 20th

Jens felt a lot better on Monday. The content of his stomach was no longer threatening to come up and the elephant sitting on his head was gone.

He had vomited his guts in the bathroom when coming home yesterday and had to make up a lie about eating something bad at Robbe's and upsetting his stomach. His knew his lie was mediocre and his mom probably saw through it, but didn't say a thing. He was a teenager and it was his birthday, he's allowed to have fun once in a while.

He was on his way to meet the boys for lunch when someone walked past him and bumped into him on the staircase.

''Sorry, I should watch where I’m going.’’

Caught off guard, Jens forced a smile, turning more genuine when seeing Lucas. His curly fringe was perfectly swept on the side and the color of his jacket matching his blue eyes.

“It’s cool. How was your weekend?'' Jens said, trying to stay smooth and chill.

He didn't know why, but Lucas's presence had the tendency to destabilize his confidence a bit.

Lucas shrugged. “It was good. I hadn't gone home since my dad and I moved here two weeks ago. It felt good to spend some time with my mom and see my friends. I really miss it sometimes...but then I run into you and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

He smirked and Jens' didn't know how to react. His stomach dropped, surprised, but not shocked. Was Lucas flirting with him again?

''I saw your stories, it seemed like you had a lot of fun at your party?''

“Yeah, it was great, but I got a wicked hangover that I’m still getting over.''

''Have sex.''

''Excuse me?''

''Sex is an excellent cure for hangover.''

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Does it?’’ He paused, raising his gaze to meet Lucas’, clear blue irises looking right into his. ’’I’m gonna need a partner for that, though...’’

The brunet cocked an eyebrow, still holding Jens' stare, reading through the heavy subtext. They had entered a new level of flirting and neither were mad about it.

Lucas licked his lips slowly, making something in Jens' stomach flipped over at the gesture, and the Netherland boy took a step closer towards him, nearly closing all the space between them. Lucas opened his mouth, but before he could say - or do - anything, someone called Lucas’ name.

''Luc! Come on, man, we’re going to be late.''

''I gotta go. See you later, Jens,’’ Lucas said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder and winking before leaving.

.

Tuesday, January 21st

A knock on Jens' door woke him from his slumber. His first thought was that it was his sister joining him for the night, but Lotte never knocked. Jens frowned. Slipping out from his covers, the teenager walked to the door, eyes barely open, still half-asleep.

The hallway light caused Jens to squint his eyes and hiss. He rubbed them with his palms, adjusting to the light. ''Mom?''

She was in her bathrobe, hair down from her usual bun, slightly messy due to her pillow. ''Sorry to wake you, honey,'' Fenna apologized in a hushed voice, cautious to not wake her sleeping daughter next door.

It was very unusual for his mom to wake him in the middle of the night - unless something was going on. Did she get an emergency call from work? Jens hadn't heard his father come home, did he get into an accident? His frown deepened, getting worried.

''What is it, Mom?''

Fenna sighed and looked down, the bags under her eyes appearing more prominent. ''Your dad is drunk. Can you help me take him to bed?'' He could sense the shame in her voice from having to ask her son for help with his drunk father.

Jens nodded, mentally shaking his head in disappointment.

He followed his mom down and walked into the living room, taking in the state of his inebriated father, passed out on the loveseat, shoes still on and jacket half off. Jens felt a burst of resentment towards his dad in that moment. How could he drink so much that his own son was having to drag him to his room so his little sister wouldn’t see her dad this way? How could he do that to his wife too? Doesn’t she work hard enough at the hospital? She doesn’t need to come home and have to deal with her drunk husband.

''I tried to get him to move, but he's being stubborn and-'' Fenna started to explain, a yawn interrupting her.

It was the first time it happened and Jens hoped it was the last - for his dad's own good. Coming home late and picking fights with his mom was one thing, coming home drunk was another.

''Go back to bed, Mom. I'll take care of this,'' Jens said, taking in the state his dad was in. He reeked of beer and whiskey.

Fenna refused. ''No. It shouldn't be your job to take care of your dad.''

‘’He’s just a dead weight. I'll manage.''

Her eyes shifted between her son and husband, feeling guilty for making Jens take care of Mohamed. He was a kid, it wasn’t his responsibility. But, she had already tried to get him upstairs and didn't succeed. All she did was get one half of his jacket off.

With one last look at her son, Fenna gave in. ''Alright. I'll go get his side of the bed ready. Just bring him upstairs, okay?''

Jens nodded and watched as his mom returned to the second floor, leaving him to deal with his dad. The teenager sighed, dreading the work to come.

''Dad?''

The man grumbled, half responsive. Jens didn't lose time trying to understand whatever he was trying to say and threw his dad's arm over his neck, getting him to sit up just enough to remove his jacket. Like he said, he was a dead weight which made the task a bit difficult.

''Can you stand?'' Jens asked, trying to not let his irritation show.

He helped his old man up, slinging one of his arms behind his neck and keeping one hand behind his dad's back as support. Mohamed felt heavy on Jens.

Mohamed mumbled something that Jens couldn’t understand.

“What did you say?”

“ I said, your mom hates me.” His voice was rough and slurred.

Jens sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, but you need to start doing better. She can’t keep working these double shifts all the time, and you can’t be coming home drunk like that. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to Lotte or me either. I shouldn't have to do this, Dad.” He wasn't trying to guilt-trip his dad, just talk some sense into him.

There was a long silence before Mohamed responded. “I’m trying, okay? But nobody wants to hire a 40 year old with minimal training.'' He scoffed before going into a coughing fit. ''Anyway, why am I even telling you this? You're just a teenager that has no idea what it means to support a family.”

Jens tried to not let his dad's words get to him. While he wasn’t a parent, he had been kind of forced to take over his dad’s responsibilities and play the head of the house for his family recently.

After a difficult struggle, Jens finally got his dad to his room and safely into bed. He wasn't so drunk he'd have to be watched over, but Jens took all the precautions - just in case. He put a pillow behind him so he'd stay on his side during the night and set a glass of water on the nightstand, right by his phone.

Jens gave Mohamed one last glance, his eyes darting to his sleeping mother. He wished that things could be different for her, that she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was a good mom and Jens knew she would do whatever it took to take care of her family, but he couldn't let her put her health in jeopardy.

With a heavy sigh, Jens quietly closed the door and returned to his own bed.

.

Thursday, January 23rd

''Hi,'' Amber said, interrupting Jens and Aaron's conversation, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend, lingering a bit too long - and with too much tongue - to be appropriate for school grounds. At least, in the middle of the main hall.

Jens rolled his eyes, tearing them away from the unwanted tongue battle in front of him. Seeing his annoyance, Jana saw this as an opening and smiled before going in for a kiss. Unlike Aaron, Jens dodged her lips and pulled out his phone, checking if he had any new messages.

He had seen her coming - of course he did -, but something inside him didn't want to kiss her. Especially when he was starting to feel something for a certain blue eyed boy.

Kissing at parties - or at home - was for fun, but kissing at school felt a bit too official for Jens' liking. No one kissed their Saturday hook up in the hallway between classes. He didn't want to give Jana the wrong idea and then hurt her feelings.

The brunette frowned, confused and hurt.

Jens could feel her sulking, but he didn’t say a thing, acting as if he wasn’t aware of what he did. Sometimes, playing dumb got you out of trouble.

Sulking, Jana pulled at her friend's arm, forcing their kiss to end. ''Amber.''

‘’What?’’ the blonde said, turning to Jana. ‘’Oh! Right. Change of plans. My parents are away this weekend so I’m celebrating my birthday a bit early. You’ll come?’’

‘’Sure babe, we’ll be there, right Jens?’’ Aaron nudged him, forcing the raven haired one to look up from his phone.

Jens faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

.

Jens pressed the doorbell and waited.

He had texted Moyo's guy earlier today and had been given an address to meet at. At first, the guy was skeptical, but Jens mentioned Moyo and everything was chill.

Dogs started barking at the doorbell noise and Jens' back straightened. A man told them to shut up - which they did -, and someone popped their head out, keeping the door mostly shut. He had a buzz cut, clean cut beard and the tattoo on his neck gave Jens the chills.

Seeing a new face, the man glanced up and down at Jens and raised an expectant eyebrow, asking what he wanted.

''Erm, I've been given this address. I'm here to see...Michiel.''

If he had told Moyo the truth, he wouldn’t have given Jens his dealer’s number. While his intentions were good, dealing drugs - even just weed - was very unsafe. The risks of getting caught and consequences were higher than just smoking it. But, all Jens saw was a way to make a quick buck and help his family.

The guy disappeared inside for a few seconds, probably talking to his boss, and came back to let Jens inside.

Unlike the previous guy, this one was much shorter, but non the less intimidating. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and a scar above his eyebrow. ‘’You asked for me?’’

‘’I…’’

Jens felt like an idiot. He had always been a pretty confident person, but Michiel’s presence made him nervous - with good reason. Drug dealers weren’t the kind of people you want to mess with.

‘’If you want to buy, see one of my guys, Kid. I just make the big deals.’’ Michiel was around to turn his back and leave, but Jens spoke up.

‘’Actually, that’s what I’m here for. A friend referred me to you, saying you might have something for me. A job.’’

Michiel glanced at Jens up and down, just like the previous guy, and scoffed. ''I already have my guys.''

Under his grey hoodie, smooth skin and dangly earring, Jens was too clean for Michiel’s taste. He could never pass as a pusher, he looked too young.

Seeing through his thoughts, Jens took another approach.

''Look at me. No one will suspect it. I...I can cover at school? Or even the skatepark? People there are always looking for weed. I’m sure I could bring you good cash.’’

The man hesitated still. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy pushers. Most would either use all the drug and run off. But, something was different about Jens. He had this insistence and self-motivation that got Michiel’s attention.

‘’I need fast cash. Give me a chance. I...I really need it,'' Jens almost begged. He tried to cover his emotions, not wanting to sound too desperate even though, in his head, he was on his knees. He needed this job really bad.

Michiel’s silence got Jens scared he had blown his shot. ‘’You do have a pretty face,’’ he pointed out. ‘’Make sure I don't have to ruin it, okay?''

Jens nodded rapidly.

‘’You’re on trial. I’ll give you a couple grams and I need them sold as fast as possible. Give me a shout when you’re done.’’ Michiel paused. ‘’Don’t disappoint me, Kid.’’

.

Friday, January 24th

The bag of weed in his backpack felt heavy. Cert, there was more grams than Jens usually took to parties, but weed doesn’t weight much. It was more the pressure of having to sell it that made it heavy.

Being a smoker of green for over two years, it was his first time actually selling weed. He had sold some to guys at the skatepark, a gram or two, but he was never a pusher, as they called them. The term sounded dirty and wrong in his head. Jens knew it was something he shouldn’t be doing, but his parents needed money.

Robbe giggled at something Sander said, already a bit tipsy from the beers they drank at his place. He had hosted a pre-game, the first one since he moved back with his mom, and he didn’t slow down on the beers. At his boyfriend's behavior, Sander had kept it low with the alcohol, knowing he’ll be the one to carry Robbe home later and couldn’t do that if he was too intoxicated.

For the first time, Aaron hadn’t been present at the pre-game. Being the boyfriend of the birthday girl, he was already at the party, helping Amber and the girls with the decorations and all that.

Moyo pressed the doorbell, waiting for someone to open. They could hear the shitty pop music Amber loved from the doorstep. Sander grimaced at the music choice, Amber’s music taste being added to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

‘’I’m gonna....go see Kobe,’’ Jens announced, seeing him by the window with a couple guys from the skatepark. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Jens and Kobe weren’t friends. He had sold him weed once and shared a blunt behind some bushes at the skatepark one afternoon. What Jens knew was that the guy was always looking to buy weed, having no regular dealer, aka easy cash for Jens.

Moyo nodded, heading to the kitchen to look for Aaron with Robbe and Sander following behind, holding hands and walking close.

‘’ ‘Sup, man,’’ Kobe said as Jens approached them.

‘’Good, good,’’ Jens responded, responding to the brunet’s fist exchange.

‘’Long time no see.’’

‘’Yeah… Eh, I might have something for you.’’ Jens raised his eyebrows and motionned for Kobe to follow him.

Kobe nodded, a knowing smile on his lips, getting what Jens meant. He told his friends he was going with Jens for a few minutes, having something he wanted to tell him in private.

Jens almost snorted at Kobe’s lack of subtlety. This guy was worse than Aaron - if possible.

.

Half of his stock sold, thanks to Kobe and the guys they ran into on Amber’s balcony. Turned out selling weed wasn’t as difficult as Jens had initially thought. Being at a party was helping his sales, but it was relatively easy. People bought by chunks of two or three grams with promises of buying more next time Jens had some, not having a lot of cash on them.

Fiddling with the doors, Jens found himself in the bathroom, trying to hide from the outside world that sometimes got a bit too overwhelming. It’s not that he didn't like to party, he just hadn't been in the mood lately. There was a lot on his mind and, sometimes, he just couldn’t escape it.

‘’Hiding from someone?’’

The voice startled Jens, but when he saw who it was he just shrugged. ‘’I don’t feel like partying tonight, is all.’’

Lucas hummed. ‘’Mind if I join?’’ He reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a slightly cooked joint. ‘’I have weed. Straight from Netherlands.’’

Who was Jens to refuse free weed. He shifted in the tub, making room for Lucas.

‘’I’ve been wanting to ask: why did you move here? I know your parents got divorce, but isn’t changing countries is a bit extreme?’’ He passed the joint to Lucas, head leaned back against the tiled wall, starting to feel the buzz.

Lucas smiled at the ceiling. ‘’Try telling my father that. If you ask me, he tried to take me away from my mom; if you ask him, he got a job offer he couldn’t refuse.’’ He took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. ‘’I didn’t want to go, but according to the judge, he’s the one who can offer me a ‘better life’. So I had to go with him.’’

‘’Why would he take you away from your mom? Is she ill or something.’’

‘’Or something,’’ Lucas confirmed, not comfortable talking about this part of his life yet. He handed Jens the joint again.

‘’Left a girl at home?’’

Lucas snorted. ‘’A girl? Who said I’m into girls?’’

Jens shrugged, not knowing what to answer.

Lucas never explicitly said who he was attracted to, why did Jens assume that he was straight? By default, maybe? Despite all the progress the LGBTQ+ community is making in society, history had a way of bleeding into our subconscious. So, unless someone showed a ‘behavior that defied the default’, they were classified as straight.

‘’I tried girls, but it wasn’t for me,’’ Lucas started. He shook his head, thinking back at his mistake. ‘’They’re pretty, but it wasn’t doing it for me, you know?’’

Jens nodded. A part of him understood what Lucas meant, but another didn’t. Unlike Lucas, Jens liked girls. Their long hair, sweet perfume, smooth skin - and boobs. But, more recently, he found himself looking at boys - one, in particular.

‘’I was in love with a boy - my best friend,’’ Lucas continued. ‘’He had a girlfriend, who was also my friend, and I fucked it all up.’’

‘’Your chances with him?’’ Jens tried.

‘’No. That was pretty much dead from the start,’’ Lucas explained with a chuckle. ‘’Our friendship, their relationship.’’

‘’So, you’re a homewrecker?’’

Lucas gasped, kicking Jens’ leg playfully. Jens gave him a small grin.

‘’Hey what happened to sharing? You’re hogging the weed,’’ Jens pointed out, mildly annoyed.

''Come and get it,'' Lucas teased, pulling the joint at arm's length, away from Jens's reach. There was a challenging tone in his voice, almost daring Jens to come closer.

A bit too intoxicated - and high - to think properly, Jens leaned over, hovering over Lucas as he tried to get a hold of the joint. Lucas laughed, moving the lit joint every time Jens was close to take it. Jens was getting frustrated, his reflexes slower than usual because of the marijuana.

Jens started laughed too, having difficulty holding himself up in the small tub. ''Stop it.''

Lucas continued his little game, their laughter caused Jens to lose balance and slip. Thankfully, he was able to grab at the tub's edge, preventing himself from crushing Lucas under - or cracking his skull.

''Sorry,'' Jens apologized.

He was about to raise himself back up, but stopped when he realized how dangerously close they were to each other, faces only a few inches apart. Jens's body stilled, breath catching in his throat as his heart rate started to pick up behind his chest. His dark eyes easily found Lucas's blue ones and Lucas stopped laughing. He stared back at Jens, taking in his sharp cheekbones and plump lips.

Jens made the first move, eyelids slowly fluttering shut as he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips on Lucas.

Undoubtedly, when Jens came to this party, he didn't have the intention of kissing Lucas in Amber's bathtub. But, one thing led to another and here he was, sitting back in the tub and kissing the new kid.

Sparks didn't fly when their lips touched, which was a bit disappointing. Or, maybe it did? The weed was confusing his senses.

Kissing a boy wasn't that much different than kissing girls, in the end. It was the same mechanics; lips on lips - and sometimes tongue. Lucas' lips were very soft for a boy. They tasted like weed and beer too, which Jens didn't mind. It was a nice change from the usual sweet and sticky feeling of glosses and lipsticks or whatever girls put on their lips.

A breathy moan left Lucas' lips as one of Jens' hands came up to cup his jaw, holding him in place as his tongue grazed over Lucas' mouth, teeth closing on his bottom lip and pulling. Jens' senses were buzzing and his mind was too far behind to function.

Lucas' free hand snaked behind Jens' neck, grasping at his thick, dark hair, giving it a slight tug, the single earring dangling as they kissed. Jens breathed a moan into the kiss at the feeling and Lucas smirked, content with himself, before doing it again.

Fuck. How did he get here?

Jens broke the kiss, needing to catch his breath and the brunet took advantage of the taller one's neck being exposed to trail his lips up and down the tanned skin. It will most likely leave marks behind, but Jens couldn’t be bothered to care. At the moment, it felt really good.

Jens cradled Lucas’ face in his hands, guiding him back up and brought their lips together again. This time, the kiss was softer and slower, savoring the feeling of those beautiful pouty lips he had wished to kiss for weeks.

[ashleyfanfic]

Do you have any Jonerys nsfw fic recs? I need some smut in my life any kind extra points if it starts with Jon masturbating and turns into a hot session with his queen. 😏

Oh, Anon - this could take a while. Buckle up, this is gonna be a bumpy, but pleasurable, ride! I’ve divided this up from Modern AU and Canon/Canon Divergent. I know there are more than one entry for most of these authors, but what can I say? When I find an author I like, I usually consume everything they write.  CANON/CANON DIVERGENT Up Against the Wall - by @meisiesmut   A shameless love story told with a backdrop of war, politics, past trauma, heroes and villains, dragons and duty. Goes from Dragonstone, to Kings Landing, to the North, and eventually back again. Falling in love amidst the War for the Dawn, as told by Daenerys Targaryen. The explicit rating is no lie. Damsel In Distress by @meisiesmut   There is very little that is weak and defenseless about the Mother of Dragons, but sometimes it’s fun to pretend. In which Daenerys blows off some steam from the pressures of ruling, and her husband grudgingly indulges her, until the wolf comes out to play. Roleplay smut, trigger warning for dubious consent. Ozymandian - by @frostbitepandaaaaa​  She should have been more prudent, instead of falling into him like a spell. She should have handled this thing like the fatal tangle of thorns it was, instead of drinking the air from his lungs like the sweetest Arbor gold. She should have picked it up about the edges, holding it at arm’s length until she could find a safe enough place to rest it upon the earth and walk away forever. On Fire’s Gentle Shore - by @justwandering-neverlost​   This one shot is post season 8. Dany and Jon are ruling Westeros and escort Missandei back to her home in Naath. How We Heal - by @justwandering-neverlost​  What was intended to be some love-filled Jonerys drabbles, but has turned into a full-blown S8 canon adventure complete with romance, dragons, drama, angst, politics, prophecies, and the Battle for the Dawn. Fluff, smut, and all the feels still included. Go South, Get Warm - by @lawonderlandwriter​  An alternate route to Winterfell! After being resurrected, Jon Snow leaves for Oldtown to stay with the only person he can trust - Samwell Tarly. But after he receives a raven from his sister Sansa requesting help to take back their family home from the Boltons, Jon goes on a mission collecting allies in the South - the Tyrells of Highgarden, the Sand Snakes of Dorne, the portion of the ironborn fleet commanded by Yara Greyjoy...and of course, the queen across the sea, Daenerys Targaryen. Jon and Daenerys build a quick rapport and she soon makes him the Lord Commander of her armies. Together they face the Lannister, the Boltons, Euron Greyjoy...and finally, the Night King. Note: Main relationship of this fic is Jonerys and Dany comes into the story at chapter 8. A Wolf In The Sand - by @notpmahlem​  I did what I thought was right. And I got murdered for it. He died. He was resurrected. Coping with that betrayal, additional information upends him again and sends him to the last place anyone would expect him to go. In search of Dragons. The Burnt World - by @xxthewolvenstormxx​ Its been over two decades since the Mad King burnt the world.Now Daenerys has finally returned home to right the wrongs of her father. But once again a mad ruler threatens to burn the world anew.Up North, Jon Snow is racing against time to defeat a swarm of undead that threatens to kill all that remains. The Painted Table - by @muttpeeta​  Daenerys summons Jon to the Chamber of the Painted Table the night before his journey beyond the Wall to give him a proper farewell. Slight canon divergence. Held Captive - by @fierypen37​ - Upon landing in Westeros, Daenerys makes a pact with the King in the North, with interesting results. Or, in which Robb lives as King in the North and Jon is given to Daenerys as a hostage of war. Can I Be Your Prisoner? - by @tomakeitbeautifultolive​  Following their first tense meeting on Dragonstone, Jon is left stimulated in more ways than one when he asks the dragon queen whether or not he's her prisoner. After Daenerys clarifies by answering "Not yet", three dreaded words slip from his lips, to his horror—"Can I be?"

MODERN AU/AU You Heard Me. Take. It. Off. - by @meisiesmut  Jon and Daenerys are young professors at a spooky gothic pile of a university with a unique relationship. BDSM episodes in a modern setting, a somewhat dark and twisted little romance. Likely the only Modern AU I will ever attempt, enjoy the kink. The Pirate Queen - by @meisiesmut   In which Lord Commander Snow meets The Pirate Queen and her crew of cutthroats, much to his annoyance and later delight. AU, 18th Century Caribbean setting, pirates, scenery, bad jokes, canon winks, Jon in a pretty uniform (and eventually a dashing pirate outfit), and shameless smut. I got nothing else, enjoy. Lord Snow and the Madam - by @meisiesmut   Madam Daenerys runs the finest gentleman’s establishment in Mayfair, and knowing men and all their ways, has little time for the pleasures and distractions of an alluring stranger. But a persistent, mysterious visitor to her brothel may just change her mind. Alternative universe, Edwardian London setting, luscious smut, splendidly handsome mustache bean. Quality Assurance - by @muttpeeta​   AU where Dany and Jon are CEOs of competing sex toy companies and meet at a convention. Love In Leather - by @muttpeeta​  Before they dock at White Harbor and leave the safety of their ship, Daenerys wants to make Jon's wildest fantasies come true. Thumbprint Scar - by @frostbitepandaaaaa​   For so long, she had only dreamed about getting away, never of what that place might be. It wasn't until it had started to become a reality, to solidify under her hands, that she started to paint details into the visions of her sanctuary in earnest. Between the Raindrops - by @notpmahlem​   In modern Westeros, Daenerys Targaryen and her foreign army are joined by Jon Snow and the North to unseat Cersei Lannister. Written In the Scars of His Heart - by @notpmahlem​ and @jalenmara​  Daenerys Targaryen, supermodel and face of House Targaryen, a rising star in the world of Fashion, is commonly known as the most beautiful woman in the world. And someone wants her dead. Jon Snow, running from the ghosts of his own past, lands the job any man would kill for— protecting her. But can he protect his own heart from her? Mustache Rides - by @xxthewolvenstormxx​  Jon's sporting a new look and there's really only one thing Dany can do. A PROUD Contribution to the #RideJonsFace2019 and #Twenty69teen campaigns. Let's have Dany rub that mustache off. Vim and Vigor - by @xxthewolvenstormxx​  Seven smutty scenes to ring in the New Year. Jon and Daenerys are a Young Couple living their best life. The Oasis - by @fierypen37​  With uptight and stressed CEO Daenerys Targaryen's regular masseur on leave, she has to make do with the replacement Jon Snow. Relaxation is not something she can find with his hands on her. Too bad he doesn't feel the same. Except unbeknownst to her, he definitely does. When a threat on her life pushes them together, they must both learn to deal with their growing feelings. Sinfully Yours - by @adecila​   Jon Snow finds himself being summoned by a beautiful but dangerous woman. Daenerys Targaryen is a demon hunter looking for a precious treasure. He is a demon with a particular set of principles. However, he also has a dick; and he hasn't used it since way before he died. Instinct by @lawonderlandwriter​   "She heard a twig snap behind her and spun around, heart beating quick as a hummingbird’s wings inside her chest. A lone figure emerged from behind a tree, watching her; she should have known. HIM. The dark-featured male that had wandered into the area a few days ago. She sighed, somewhat in relief that it wasn't something else, but eyed him warily all the same. Sometimes newcomers were harmless. Other times they were not..." Can I Keep You - by @lawonderlandwriter​  "...She patted at her chest over her heart, pointed off in the distance, touched her hair yet again, and then pointed to a nearby dandelion with its wispy white seeds swaying gently in the breeze. Suddenly he thought he understood, at least the last part of it. Hair. White hair." Sequel to Instinct! Begins a little bit before Jon and Dany meet. Now You See Me - by @daenerys1417​  Dany has just moved into a new apartment which happens to have a crack in the shared wall between her and her next-door neighbor, Jon Snow. One night, she gets more than she bargained for when she decides to take a peek.

[ruegracieuse]

hiya do you have any recommendations for books about living in europe like travelogues/memoirs or even fictional accounts?? love your blog!

I’d love to! The first book I think of, of course, is Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast. Even if you don’t like the way he writes fiction, I would recommend this one because it’s much more sensuous than his usual writing style and, in my opinion, much more enjoyable (much as I love For Whom the Bell Tolls). It’s a really strong evocation of Paris in the 1920s, the poverty and the glamour and the drive to live for art. For something similar to this, I might also recommend Henry Miller’s Quiet Nights in Clichy. Now, I’ve actually only just started reading this myself so I can’t vouch for the whole book, but what I’ve read so far seems to be true to his style, which I find bewitching (somewhat in spite of myself) and definitely worth looking into if you’re especially interested in the lost generation and want to go beyond the usual stories of Hemingway and Fitzgerald. The first book with this subject matter I remember reading, years and years ago now, is A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle - a beautiful summer read if you happen to be in the Northern Hemisphere at the moment! As for travelogues, the first thing I think of is Paul Theroux’s Ghost Train to the Eastern Star and his earlier The Great Railway Bazaar. They don’t stick exclusively to Europe: they account journeys from London to Japan and back again via the Orient Express and the Trans-Siberian Railway, but you get some really lovely and interesting descriptions of Eastern Europeans before and just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Eastern and Central Europe tend to get overlooked in romanticised anglophone descriptions of the continent which I think is a huge shame. It’s an area so rich in history and culture. So in that vein, definitely also check out The Hotel Years: Wanderings in Europe Between the Wars, which is a collection of travel articles, reviews, and musings by Joseph Roth, a travel writer and journalist in the 20s and 30s. If you’re interested in interwar politics, the golden age of hotels, the decline of the grand Europe into war and wistfulness, this book is for you! I read it last year and think about it at least once a week to this day. I absolutely loved it. Also, diaries and letters of writers you love have often been published and give some insight into life in these countries! I absolutely adore Anaïs Nin’s diaries, for example, and her correspondence with Henry Miller. Journey From Venice by Ruth Cracknell is brutally sad but beautiful, and for a more cheerful description of living in Italy try The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim or A Room with a View by E M Forster. Oh, and Midnight in Sicily by Peter Robb, for a beautiful, sensuous history of Sicily told through the island’s two major cultural exports (the mafia and food). Biographies and writings of your favourite famous people at times and places in Europe that interest you may be the go, too, as will some history books. I’m currently reading The Lure of the Sea by Alain Corbin, which is a history book accounting the changing attitudes of Europeans towards the sea and the seaside in the late 18th and early 20th century, which is giving me a wonderful impression of life at this time. And also, without preamble because this is turning into an essay: Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell, some of the personal writings of Walter Benjamin, and the biographical works of Ryszard Kapuścińsi (which I haven’t actually read but which my friend, whose judgement I trust, has highly recommended to me).

I hope this gives you something to sink your teeth into! Sorry if these tend to have a French/Parisian bias - it’s pretty obvious that this is where my major interests lie! xx

[fanesavin]

What was the inspiration behind your character?

*cracks knuckles* Alright then, I have a feeling this is going to get long-winded because there’s several sources from which I’ve drawn and based Fane from. 

Edit: I was right this ended up being 3 pages long and over 2200 words in length.

I think the first thing I should say was in actuality I wasn’t entirely sure I even wanted to play Fane, I wasn’t entirely sure where I’d approach him from or jump into his psyche but the more I worked on trying to figure out his backstory the more I came to enjoy writing him. Initially, all I really had to go on was when Kcat approached me about Sumner and was like YOU SHOULD CHECK THIS OUT and gave a *nudge nudge wink wink* into taking up Fane. I’d been out of the RP game for a while at this point but I was like… eh why not… 

Thus this dork right here was made.

So my start point was this aspect of Dani’s bio:

“Though he’d never had the audacity to admit it out loud, Fane had long desired to be a father. Over the centuries, he’d watched his friends grow and love and start families, but being what he was, he was only able to sire new vampires, never his own children. He’d tried to fill that void in many ways: lavish parties, charming lovers, elaborate travels, even academic pursuits, to no avail. It wasn’t until an orphaned child had been brought to him by one of his reckless blood-drinking progeny that his envy for his mortal companions finally began to recede.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a good base. I tweaked the story a little to make it one of the vampires that Fane took in and tried to help rather than one of his own progeny. From the start I had base facts: that he was from Transylvania, around 400, that for some reason he didn’t want children before he hit perhaps the 300 mark and that even in Soapberry’s standards having a human child was considered odd. Fane was unique amongst his peers because of his willingness to attach himself to something that for all intents and purposes he would outlast/outlive. 

This wasn’t a common occurrence even by Soapberry’s standards and thus I knew Fane has had to live for the last 26 or so years facing criticism, judgement and skepticism from those he considered his friends and peers but despite this I never wanted him to become cynical– it felt like the easy route to take. To make an affluent character who was broody and locked himself away in his estate hoarding his money for his own pleasure. So I decided to take the trope of rich broody vampire, flip it 180 and turn him into rich generous philanthropist who opened up his home to anyone he came across who was in need a la Charles Xavier style, leading to the question of why even after four-hundred years of seeing things that likely would turn even the best person cynical he was still willing to give humanity and by extension those who judged or criticised him the benefit of the doubt time and time again?

I won’t lie, I love tropes I like picking them and exploring them through characters and admittedly Fane suffers from chronic hero syndrome, and with this I sometimes draw comparisons between him and Clark Kent– Clark has super-hearing and can hear literally everything even whilst he’s doing the most mundane things in his life and he makes deliberate decisions whether to help or not help someone. That he’s learned to ‘tune out’ what he has to and that he’s come to accept that even he can’t be everywhere for everyone and that sometimes people who need help sometimes need to be ignored. 

By comparison, Fane hasn’t come to learn this lesson and until he does he’s driving himself into the ground by taking on too many burdens belonging to other people (i.e. his willingness to listen to what people’s problems are and offer advice or even get involved trying to help them somehow sometimes show with Tuah, Faye, Dani, Sam, Elizabeth, Bella more recently amongst others he’s come across in his time). Unless someone willingly steps in to point out that this isn’t actually healthy behaviour he’s become blindsided to just how negatively it affects him and even when it is pointed out i.e. as it has been more recently by Faye, he’s been acting this way for so long that even now he can’t just break this cycle of behaviour. He feels a responsibility to use his time towards altruism and when he isn’t doing just that he feels like he’s failing to live up to his own moral code.

Speaking of moral codes, I also draw some influence from Arthurian myths– every single knight at some point in the myths feels a responsibility to got out and quest for trouble. In this instance Fane’s questing takes him in search of people he might be able to help. After all, I knew that if he’d taken in Dani he would have an inclination towards individuals with broken or traumatic histories which after exploring his zodiac as well just… fits. As a Leo sun and Pisces moon Fane is rather in touch with the nuances and subtleties of human nature, he does his best to take on other people’s points of view, to put himself in their shoes and try to understand from their point of view so that he can in turn help them as best as he possibly can. It’s part of the reason why he studies people a lot during conversations, he’s looking for clues to help him read body language and facial expression to figure a person’s intentions out.

ANYWAY, going back to the question of why he is this way I went back to look at history in the 15th/16th century considering I knew he was give or take 400 it meant he was turned in 1617/6 (I’m pedantic about dates) and since I hc he looks 37 it meant in turn he was born in 1579. So I started researching Transylvanian history and the background of Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages. I am a self-admitted history nerd, growing up I wanted to be an Egyptologist but now I couldn’t actually be further from the field considering I’m a sports science student. I try to do a lot of research about the things I write about (Riley can testify to this considering how much research I’ve done around life in 18th century London for a separate RP set during this era that we’re in) but even then pretty much all of my knowledge and interests stem from my understanding of more Western European / pretty much all English eras from the Roman conquest / WWI / WWII along with a mixture of ancient history that I’ve had an opportunity to study or come into contact with i.e. Mayan / Egyptian / Viking / Roman / Greek. 

Being brutally honest I knew next to absolutely nothing about anything to do with Eastern European history stepping into this or museum curating to be honest ahaha. So for me this was a huge leap of faith and a big ass research project before I even felt comfortable applying for this character because usually I like to write things I know about and can get a grip on. Fane’s the first character where due to prerequisites I kind of had to step outside of my comfort zone but this also likely explains why Fane’s interests lie with ancient history in comparison to nearer situations i.e. the Cold War/Vietnam War etc because I myself feel more comfortable and confident in myself writing about these eras.

Anyway, the Long Turkish war was my first point of contact with coming to terms with how I wanted to shape his background. I love a good coming of age story hence why Robb Stark is probably one of my favourite ASoIaF characters along with Margaery Tyrell and Arianne Martell (forever bitter about the show trashing Dorne). Anyho, in regards to this I turned to look at some actual historical figures and ended up looking at a young Edward IV born the son of the richest duke in England, who much like Robb and in turn Fane was forced into taking on huge responsibility and risk at only 18 after his father’s passing by comparison Fane was only 15 when his father was killed in the Great War in 1594. 

Fane like his historical counterparts had to assume leadership of his father’s men and make decisions risking not only his own life but that of his men making decisions that still haunt him mirroring what Edward likely felt after the Battle of Towton where supposedly 1% of England’s population died due to the ongoing civil war that now is more commonly known as the ‘War of the Roses’ which ultimately placed him on the throne. As a result of these deaths, Edward likely wasn’t all that fond of war and preferred to find other routes to avoid bloodshed, at the time he was viewed by his contemporaries as being overly forgiving (he showed mercy to traitors and issued orders allowing common soldiers to escape the end of battles).

That was his beginning, and from there I knew I wanted him to travel, learning about cultures and becoming fascinated with the rich history of the places he visited. So I figured in his chance to leave the boundaries of his home for war it ignited in him a curiosity and wanderlust that eventually later led to him forsaking his stead as Head of the Alois family and turning to pick a life of travel and immortality over simply dying. 

Thus the next character I drew on, one that outlasted the death of his own people along with several of his own companions due to his own longevity, decision making and ability to regenerate is The Doctor from BBC’s sci-fi hit Doctor Who (a character who ultimately chose to end a war by committing a mass genocide of not only his own morally questionable race but supposedly their opposing side as well). A character who initially only explored with the intention of experiencing the wonders the universe had to offer but more often than not got involved in the machinations and crises of various places he was visiting. Fane always was a man born into wealth and privilege but could never stand the plight of the weak and oppressed, thus his travels much like the Doctor’s became a way for him to protect and stand up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. Yet, in doing this Fane has had to do plenty of bad deeds and though many might call him a hero he refuses to actually subscribe to this title in any shape or form.

Out of all the incarnations if I had to pick, I’d say Fane’s an amalgamation of the 10th and 11th, with aspects of the 10th’s outgoing personality and the same fondness for pop-culture traits along with a bright, playful nature largely existing to conceal left-over emotional trauma from things he has done in his history. Although he is cheerful, bubbly and fun-loving darker traits occasionally emerge particularly when those he cares about are put in harm’s way or successfully manage to truly piss him off which is an incredibly difficult feat to truly accomplish. 

Aspects of the 11th that Fane displays are also the tendency to act far younger than he is, displaying childlike enthusiasm for plenty of things in life AS WELL AS HAVING A HUGE SWEET TOOTH, literally don’t offer him sweets or surgery things he will take them with 0 qualms about taking it. He’s not above doing things if they’re fun and engaging so long as they prove to make other people happy then… Really he’s willing to do almost anything within reason (caterpillar duck races 10000% included in this) but in truth this conceals that fact that at the end of the day he’s a very old, guilty, lonely and grief-stricken individual who has actually grown rather tired of the world.

Another ASoIaF character that inspires Fane is Davos Seaworth, the brutally honest advisor to Stannis Baratheon. The dynamic works because Stannis hates people sugar-coating their words if they have a point to make. Fane likes to give and be given in return good honest advice.

Fane’s a gentleman scholar, an aspect of his persona that draws on several points and characters perhaps the most ironic being Abraham Van Helsing from Bram Stoker’s Dracula, where, despite being “one of the most advanced scientist of his day” possessed nerves of steel, an open mind, kind heart and a wry sense of humour. Other characters influencing this part of him is Faramir who is known to be highly intelligent and scholarly, a gracious host and pleasant individual to encounter able to hold a friendly conversation wtih various people regardless of their culture and background. In Tolkien’s own words, Faramir was “modest, fair-minded and scrupulously just, and very merciful”

In regards to his anger when it does rear its head Fane’s fury is very tranquil in nature, much like Ender or Dumbledore when they’re angry. No matter how much fury they might feel, outside he tends to maintain a deathly calm and collected appearance. It’s deliberate, Fane knows the difference between hot and cold anger: the former is all-consuming, and will lead to them doing stupid acts, but the latter? In his mind it can be harnessed as a tool to harden one’s resolve and steel one’s will. This tends to be infused with Dumbledore’s quiet disappointment that makes the focus of his fury usually feel worse than if he’d simply raged and ranted at them.

The final two people I’d point out as references and influences in Fane’s characterisation would be Jay Gatsby and the Edmond Dantès from The Count of Monte Cristo.