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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years ago

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Parallels | Chapter 7

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up.

Song(s) used: Wow - Dirty Candy

Warnings: Party, mention of alcohol, underage drinking

Words: 2,758

When Bobby came back home that night, he didn’t expect Carrie’s friend to still be with her. The two of them were on the couch together, a movie on the tv they had long abandoned for some girl talk.

There was something different about Violet that he couldn’t quite place. It was the way she carried herself around and the way she dressed. But then again, he had been gone for months on end and the girl was going through puberty. There was bound to be some change in behavior and style.

“Hey ladies,” Bobby greeted, leaving his suitcases in the foyer before joining them in the den. He took a seat next to his sister and kicked off his shoes, noticing that their conversation had come to a stop.

“What’s up, Bobber– eee…. Bobby?” Violet quickly corrected herself, remembering the other Violet didn’t call him Bobbers like she did back home. “Got the equipment settled?”

Furrowing his brows, Bobby nodded his head. Violet usually never asked any questions. She just sat next to Carrie and listened to them bicker for a few minutes without saying a word. Ever since the incident with Luke happened, she barely talked to any of the boys and now she wants to make small talk and flirt with Luke? That wasn’t right.

And every day after that, it became weirder and weirder.

The girls were always together at the Wilson house. Either all four of them, or Carrie and Violet together. They seemed even more inseparable than ever. And every time he came into the room, the conversation would stop and Carrie would ask where he was going and what the boys were up to.

Bobby figured it just had to be some girl thing and about the flirting-with-Luke thing that happened the closing night of their grand tour. For now, he let it slide, but made a mental note to keep an eye out on those girls. Especially Violet.

It was the next Friday night, exactly a week after their gig at the Orpheum when Bobby and the boys went to their favorite club. The first one they ever played at. Carrie, being Carrie, knew exactly where he was going and called her girls, saying they were going out that night and that they needed to dress hot.

Violet went through her parallel self’s closet and found the most perfect outfit in a jiffy. Black leather pants with a lace bralet, covered by a bright red blouse that she secured in a knot at the bottom, showing just enough skin. Paired with the only pair of heels Violet owned, the right amount of jewellery, the right makeup and hairdo, she was good to go.

“Where do you keep getting these outfits?!” Julie exclaimed excitedly when her friend approached her and Flynn at the club’s entrance.

Violet shrugged. “I found those pants in the back of her closet and the rest is just something classy I turned into something badass. – No offense to your Violet.”

“None taken,” Flynn smiled. “I believe she used those trousers when she played Sandy in Grease. She looked hot in those, but she didn’t feel too hot when –” Julie nudged Flynn in the ribs, stopping her before she said too much. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t say that.”

Before Violet could ask about it, Carrie joined the group in her dazzling outfit. It resembled Violet’s outfit on the night of the Orpheum gig but with flowers instead of stars. She looked absolutely stunning.

“Why do we always look this hot?!” Flynn pointed out, shaking her head in fake-disbelief.

Julie giggled and hooked her arms through Carrie’s and Violet’s. The latter grabbed Flynn’s arm, and together, they made their way towards the club’s door where the security guard was checking other people’s ID’s.

“How are we gonna get inside?” Violet asked Carrie.

She chuckled. “Please, sweetie, I’m Bobby Wilson’s sister. I can get us in.”

“ID,” the security guard barked at the four girls, who were clearly minors. A flash of nerves burst through Violet’s body. She had done her fair share of clubs in her own universe when Carrie used her father as free pass, but now she wasn’t so certain Carrie could get them in.

“Patrick, it’s me! Carrie!” Carrie said, the pitch of her voice higher than normal.

Patrick, the security guard, a burly man with a goatee, looked the blonde girl up and down before the brightest, widest smile appeared on his face. “Oh! Hey Carrie! Go on in! Your brother’s here already!” His voice was a lot less barky and sounded almost as sweet as sugar.

“Thank you, Patrick,” the four girls all sang before heading inside where the crowd was jumping and the bass was thumping. The clubscene wasn’t quite so different from Violet’s universe.

Violet felt the bass vibrate through her lungs. The feeling removed any nerves she was feeling and made room for excitement instead. Excitement for a night out. Excitement to dance the night away. Even if she wouldn’t see Luke to continue their plan, she was still excited.

“What now?!” Julie questioned, yelling over the music to her friends.

Violet smirked as she spotted Luke on the other side of the club, in the VIP area. His eyes were locked on her, as if he’d been waiting for her to walk through the doors of that club since he’d gotten there. “We dance,” she shrugged and started moving to the song that was playing.

“Anyone want anything to drink?” Carrie asked her friends, but before she could even move towards the bar, Violet stopped her. The confidence that the music fuelled reached levels Violet didn’t even understand.

“Never pay for your own drinks,” she said, the corner of her mouth curling up on one side. “Let the drinks come to you…” As the words left her mouth, two guys walked up to them and handed them some drinks before they started dancing with the girls.

Carrie’s eyes widened, surprised at the knowledge this girl held about clubbing. She must do a lot of it back home in her own universe, Carrie thought. The way Violet carried herself in this club, the way she danced around those boys and sipped whatever drink was in her cup.

“What are you doing?!” Carrie giggled, screaming into Violet’s ear as the music was too loud otherwise. Violet swayed her hips along with the boy behind her. He had his hands on her waist and his cheek pressed to hers as they danced together.

Violet smiled. “Just wait and see,” she said and it was like every time she spoke, something happened. This time around, Luke came walking up to her and took her away from the guy grinding on her. “Told you!” she yelled at Carrie before turning around to Luke.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he began to dance with her instead.

Violet smiled. “Hi! Didn’t think you’d be out right now. Figured you’d be too tired after that world tour!” she practically yelled in his ear. Her hot breath tickled his neck and sent shivers down his spine.

His hand landed carefully on the small of her back as he yelled back into her ear. “Never too tired to dance with a beautiful girl.” Violet rolled her eyes playfully at his corny line and sipped seductively from her straw. She was pretty sure there was some alcohol in this drink.

“That line actually works on girls?” she asked, wrapping an arm around his neck as they danced together.

Luke tried to ignore the fact that her touch felt like electricity or that she was so close to him, and answered her question with a shrug. “You tell me.” That wasn’t an answer she expected. She couldn’t help the smile landing on her lips.

“You’re ridiculous, Patterson,” she retorted, shaking her head.

“And you’re ridiculously beautiful, Dawson.”

On the other side of the club, Bobby had found his sister with Julie and Flynn. He was furious. This wasn’t a place for sixteen-year-olds. And especially not his sister and her friends.

“Calm down, Bobby!” Carrie scolded. “We’re just here to have fun!”

“You can have fun at home, Carrie! Get your friends and go home!” he furiously pointed towards the door while his sister rolled her eyes at him.

She nodded towards Violet and Luke, who were getting cosier with the second a few feet further. “Try to tell her that,” she said when Bobby’s eyes landed on the couple.

Now he couldn’t just let it slide. There was clearly something going on with Violet and he needed to know what it was. She couldn’t just have changed. The style, the confidence. None of that was the Violet he knew. That Violet wouldn’t ever set foot in this joint.

“What’s going on with Violet?” he finally asked.

Carrie’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at her! She’s full of confidence, flirting with Luke, dressing like that! That’s not Violet!”

Carrie’s heart skipped a few beats as her mind raced over every possible excuse she could come up with. “A lot can change over a few months, Bobby,” she finally managed to come up with. Before Bobby could ask anything else, Carrie sashayed away towards Julie and Flynn to dance with them.

Soon enough, Reggie and Alex joined Carrie, Julie and Flynn on the dancefloor, and eventually, Violet and Luke returned too. Only Bobby stayed behind. Brooding on the sidelines. Something was going on and he had to find out what it was. He couldn’t just let this go. He had to figure this one out. It was like he had landed in an alternate universe.

The living room was buzzing with dancing bodies and the floor was thumping with the bass of the music. The party at the Wilson Residence was popping off and it had only been an hour since it had started.

Though everyone from their school seemed to be there, some people were still missing. Violet started to get nervous, thinking neither of the boys were going to show up like they had thought they would. Maybe all of this wasn’t such a great plan after all.

“Care… I don’t think they’re gonna come,” she said to Carrie, who was chatting to some cheerleaders in the kitchen.

She smiled apologetically at the girls before taking Violet somewhere else where they could talk properly. “What makes you think that? The night has just started!” she stated with an excited smile on her face. “Besides, no one would ever wanna miss a Wilson party! That would be social suicide.”

“I don’t know, Carrie… Luke sounded pretty adamant about not joining the band…”

Carrie sighed as her eyes flicked to somewhere behind Violet. “You might wanna rethink that,” she said and pointed to wherever she was looking. Violet turned her head and found Alex and his boyfriend strolling through the living room with Reggie and his friends a few feet behind. Then, her eyes landed on the front door where the band’s former leading man just walked through.

A relieved breath escaped her lungs and she allowed herself to smile a little. Now all there was to do, was wait until the boys rekindled their friendship themselves. Though, pretty soon after they had arrived, everything went downhill.

While Reggie and Alex seemed to be okay, when Bobby went to talk to Luke, the latter put up quite the tough front. He started yelling at Bobby about how he would never form a band with him anymore. Not even the largest sum of money would be able to get him back in that band.

Violet watched the whole scene unfold in front of her and before she could stop herself, she stepped up in between them. “Quit it, Patterson!” she yelled at him, confidence on full blast until the boy looked into her eyes and all that confidence washed away as soon as it came.

“And what are you gonna do, Bubblegum Princess?” he asked, cockily. Violet wanted to punch that confident smirk right off his face, but the reminder of what he had done to her still floated back to the front of her brain.

“I– I…” she stuttered and let her head hang down. This was no use. She was never going to get the confidence to talk to Luke, let alone look him in the eyes. This whole entire plan was not going to work. Unless…

“That’s what I thought,” Luke spat and pushed past Bobby and Violet.

Violet quickly made a beeline towards Carrie and the other Dirty Candy girls, who had all seen the scene unfold. “We gotta do something. We gotta show ‘em that having a band is important!”

“How did you wanna do that?” Carrie asked.

Violet breathed in all the courage she had. “Perform as a band.”

Carrie exchanged glances with the other girls and wordlessly, they all agreed. As they got their microphones ready and into position, Carrie took one last glance at Violet. The instrumental version of their song started to play through the speakers, but she quickly reached out to Violet’s blouse and ripped it open, revealing a bright blue bralet. The girl winked at her best friend before the band started to sing and dance.

“See 'em look Hear 'em, "Ooh aah" Hands up, throw back, boo yah We're the best, no doubt Check it out, yeah, we make 'em say, "Wow" Made moves On the rise now Run stuff, get a piece of that pie now We're the best, no doubt Check it out, yeah, we make 'em say, "Wow"”

Violet surprised herself with her memory of this song and the entire dance routine. She barely made any mistakes on that first chorus, which gave her the confidence to continue and give her all as the party-goers watched them in awe.

“Yeah, we're going sky-high and we never gonna settle Living in the fast lane, pedal to the metal We see it, we want it We get it, we got it Everybody lose control”

Most of the people at the party knew the words and cheered the band on. Though, Violet’s eyes were focused on just three people. While Alex and Reggie actually seemed friendly and enjoyed the performance, Luke was begrudgingly watching. She could tell he was looking for a good reason to stay.

“We came to play, where you at We're going hard Just like that, yeah We're the bomb, chain react Blow their minds and watch them”

Violet made sure to lock eyes with Luke before sending a wink his way. The smirk that befell his lips right after fuelled her confidence even more. Especially since she knew it was an involuntary smirk as he wiped it off right after and played it off.

Her eyes followed Alex and Reggie as they, too, split up and went back to their own friends. Their plan was crumbling apart right in front of their own eyes.

“Come follow me, we're goin' make history Cause we are the champions like Freddie Mercury Yeah, we gonna rock you, never gonna not too Always making headlines, yeah, we're the hot news”

As the girls lapsed back into the chorus, Violet’s eyes darted back to Luke, who slowly turned around and made a beeline towards the door. Carrie noticed this too and shot a worried glance at Violet. Even Alex left with his boyfriend, and soon after, Reggie and his friends too. There went their chance at their plan succeeding.

“See 'em look Hear 'em, "Ooh aah" Hands up, throw back, boo yah We're the best, no doubt Check it out, yeah, we make 'em say, "Wow"”

“Wow, wow Wow, wow Wow, wow Wow Check it out, yeah, we make 'em say, "Wow"”

As the music faded out, Violet couldn’t help but feel absolute dread. Even though the crowd went wild over their performance, she still couldn’t feel happy. Not getting the boys back together meant not being able to go back to her universe. It meant not going back to Julie and Flynn, to making music in Julie’s garage. It meant not having her parents together. It meant being stuck here…

Everything Taglist:

@bonobos-candy-bar-2 @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @phantompogues @praetorofthelegion @sweetpeasturtleneck @wanniiieeee @lesko_ @sunsetwilson

JATP Taglist:

@90ssunsetcurve @angryknightstatesmantrash @authentic-gillespie @bexxy @bookdealer5 @bright-molina @brooke0297 @bucksmaddie @buckybarnesishot310 @caitsymichelle13 @candycornmgg @catgirlpwr @charliesmountains @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @echocharm17618 @fangirlangioma @flower-name @frickin-bats @gray_jato @hannahhistorian92 @happinessinthedarkesttimes @headheartbellarke @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @jandthephantoms @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jatp-is-god @joynerxmercer @kaitieskidmore1 @kcd15 @kelpwithawhy @kinda-really-lost @kiss-themoongoodbye @knitsessed @lilostif16 @lookingthroughmirrors @magicalxdaydream @marinettepotterandplagg @musicianspiritsblog @mystic-writings @notasofti @pxperphxntom @rangerelik @rh-girlonfire @ruvaitkevicius @spencerreidwhore @stars-soph @stressyanddepressysimp @sunsetcurvej @talk-on-the-street @tefilovesreading @tenaciousperfectionunknown @teti-menchon0604 @the-hufflepuff-hunter @thedarkqueenofavalon @cucumbers-and-olives @thequirkybookaholic @threeghostboys @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @whitetigerlover17 @boggie-brainrot @wiselight @gigglysokkamcu @nightfurya

Luke/Charlie Taglist:

@camiladelrio98 @cloudy-skyler @gingerxarmy @killerqueenfan @lolychu @lovesanimals @luckylouiebug @lukeys-giggle @myfriendscallmebeans @needyreggie @perfectlywrongformend3s @rachmmb @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thecharlietomygillespie @whitemanshoe19 @rottenroyalebooks

Crossed out names are the users I was unable to tag. Please make sure everything in your settings is set so I am allowed to tag you or if you changed your url, please drop me a message/ask!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | PARALLELS MASTERLIST

#parallels #jatp #luke patterson #oc! violet grace dawson

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akeijies · 3 years ago

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baby ur doing matchups? 🥺 aa i would like one w/ a tr character if you don’t mind?

mm ok ok some random facts about me ; i would call my self and ambivert but ‘m leaning more towards introverted, i own a lot of coconut scented thing — hair products, lotion, perfume etc, i love 2000s movies esp horror comedy / parodies i.e. scream or the scary movie movies, i like baking in my free time even though i’m not that great [i’ll get there on day #.#], love old school reggaeton & i could eat shrimp tempura for the rest of my life & never get tired of it :))

eee i hope that was enough i know it was all over the place luv u mars bar! nd thank u ><

hi princess 🥺🖤 i am doing matchups and i’m more than happy to do one for you honey.

i’m gonna pair you up with draken!

i honest to god believe that you an draken would be such a lovely couple. i see the two of you being the ones who go get photos taken, and at first he thinks it’s so cheesy like ‘why would we need photos we’re both right here?’ but he’s also the one who has the wallet sized photo hidden in between his money, just where he can see it.

he is absolutely obsessed with the way you smell like coconut whenever you walk past him he always takes like a deep breath and when he exhales he just has this like soft goofy smile on his face like he knows it’s you like the coconut mixed in with your natural scent drives him absolutely crazy.

I can totally see you and draken cuddled up on the couch you guys actually make like a bowl of popcorn and you have maybe like a beer or some soda they all just passed back-and-forth between the both of you and you guys are watching Friday, scary movie, drumline (to poke fun at it y’all say but u both are quoting it sillies 🥺 ), pulp fiction and y’all both end up watching a tyler perry movie because neither of you want to get up and change the channel. i love the both of y’all so much wow

okok so god help me but i dont think draken is one for pda —like at all— so when you guys are at home he always tries to get his fill of you, hands wander all over you, he presses kisses to your neck and your shoulder, hands wrapped around your waist. please. especially if you’re baking, hes like pressed against your back like a leech, always asking what you’re making and dipping his finger in the batter and when you ask if it tastes okay so far he’d turn your face and kiss you humming into the kiss and pull back with a “tastes really good to me” oof i hate him wowwie i’m smiling.

it doesn’t come out tasting that good BUT because he knows you tried he does go and buy you shrimp tempura, smiling at the way you smile when he mentions it.

#💍 — sonder #sonder my darling wonder #😵‍💫 — mix and match up #baby i love u #u and draken are so cute it hurts my soul oh my

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years ago

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What color is your bedspread? It’s a teal and gray floral print. Pick up the nearest book to you, turn to page 25 and read the first sentence. Nah. How many candles are in the room you are in? 3. What was your first word when you were a baby? Probably the typical “mama” or “dada.” How old were you in 1996? I was…somewhere in the universe, floating around lmao. <<< Omggg you weren’t even born yet, I’m so old D: lol. I turned 7 that year.

How old will you be in 2016? I turned 27 that year. How long until your birthday? 6 months. How many siblings do you have? Two. Are they older or younger than you? I’m the middle kid. Are your grandparents still alive? My paternal grandparents are. How many orange objects are there in the room you are in? I don’t feel like counting that. Have you ever run a stoplight? I don’t drive. Do you have any children? Noooo. How was your first kiss? Awkward, as most first kisses typically are, but it was all I knew and I was all giddy about having had it. Have you completed high school yet? I graduated high school in 2008. Do you have any relatives in the military currently? No. Who got married at the last wedding you went to? Friends of a friend. What time did you get up today? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but for the past couple months or so I’ve been sleeping in until like 12 or 1PM. When was the last time you stayed up all night? It’s been a few years since I’ve pulled an all nighter. They used to not be such a rare occurrence, but I couldn’t do it now. I have been staying up until like 5AM lately, though. How long have you had a myspace, facebook, or whatever you use? I’ve had Facebook since 2008. Who was the last person of the opposite sex you hung out with? My brother. Person of the same sex? My mom. What color are your eyes? Brown. Do you like them? I wish they were blue or green. Have you ever had braces? Yes, but not for my teeth. Turn on your mp3, cd player, radio, etc. What song is playing? Nah. What was the last thing you drank? Starbucks Doubleshot.

Are you better at math or art? Me and math have always been enemies, but I’m not at all artistic either. I guess out of the two I’d say art. I can color and do some simple arts and crafts, ha. Science or History? Both are interesting. I didn’t enjoy them much in school, but I like learning about that stuff on my own. I’m able to pick and choose what topics are of interest to me and it’s just for my own knowledge; there’s no pressure of having to learn it for a test or anything. Who was your 4th grade teacher? Mr. McGill. He was hands down my favorite teacher. He made learning so much fun. I was actually really sad on the last day of school. He ended up teaching 8th grade a few years later and I got to have him again, so that was cool. Who was your best friend in 7th grade? Jessica, Amanda, Kyle, and David.

Where did you go to pre-school, if you went at all? A preschool in my city. Who was the last person to call you? My mom.

Did you smile in your driver’s license picture? I don’t have a driver’s license, but I don’t think I’m smiling in my ID photo. I may be giving a little one, but I don’t recall at the moment. Do you have a job? No. What is your favorite smell? The beachy/ocean air, rain, coffee, coconut, peppermint, cinnamon, vanilla, fruity/sweet scents, patchouli, cedar wood, sandalwood, that like smoky smell in the air during fall, desserts, my favorite foods... What’s your favorite brand of gum? Orbit or 5Gum. Have you ever dated someone & then dated their sibling? No. That seems very awkward and messy. Who was your crush in 5th grade? Hm. I don’t remember. Who was your first bf/gf? His name is Derek. We were close friends first, but then found out we both liked each other so we gave it a shot. What color is the shirt you are wearing? I’m wearing a black sweatshirt. What do you think of the 1980’s? I like a lot of 80s music and movies. Have you ever dated someone more than 2 years older than you? No. How about 2 years younger? No. Just a year younger. What brand of shampoo do you use? It’s a salon one for red dyed hair. How long is your hair? It’s down to my butt. I’m FINALLY getting it dyed and trimmed at the end of this month. :O If you could change one thing about yourself physically, what would it be? I’d have my teeth fixed. <<< Same. That’s definitely the first thing I’d want to do. Is there a box of tissues in the room you are in right now? No. What time is it? 3:01AM. Is their anything living (plant, animal, etc) in your room right now? Just me. That I know of... What color are the walls in your kitchen? White. Have you ever had a car accident? No. Do you have any major plans for today? I have no plans for today. What kind of deoderant do you use? Secret. The powder fresh one. What color is your toothbrush? Blue and white. Do you own a digital camera? I have one that’s been stored away since like 2011/2012. How old is the cellphone you have right now? Just a little over a year old. I got it for Christmas 2018. What are your initials, using the last letter of each of your names? EEE. Hahah. Do you know anyone named Tyler? No. How about Reese? Nope. Diana? No.

Shelby? No. Have you ever kissed someone who’s name started with “C”? No. How about “L”? No. “E”? No. “B”? No. Are both your parents still living? Yes. What was the last thing you cooked? Ramen. How many times have you moved in your life? Only once that I’m old enough to remember, but I think like 5 times total. Do you live within 20 miles of your birthplace? Yeah. Can you do a handstand? No. Is it after 11am? No, it’s only 3 in the morning. What day is it? Friday. What’s the longest time you’ve ever spent on the phone? A few hours. :O I actually used to do that when I was a teenager. Then I ended up developing a real hatred for talking on the phone as I got older haha. How many pairs of brown shoes do you own? I have 2 pairs of brown boots. Are you on any prescribed medications? Yes. What was the date 2 weeks ago from today? December 20th. If you aren’t already married, do you expect to be married within 5 years? Nooo. I don’t see that ever happening, but definitely not in 5 years. How about 2 years? If I know that won’t happen in 5 years, then most definitely not in 2 years. How many funerals have you been to in your lifetime? 3. Have you ever been far away from home on your birthday? Just a couple hours or so away. Have you ever had a pet fish? Yeah. I had a fish tank full of fish when I was a kid. Do you have any tattoos? Nope. Would you ever or do you have a nose piercing? No. If you only had 30 days to live, what would you do? That’s a fun way to end the survey. -___-

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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danfanciesphil · 7 years ago

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Give Me A Try (New Chapter)

Gay Instagram Model/Bartender Phan AU Part 7

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

(Part Four)

(Part Five)

(Part Six)

(Read on Ao3)

“Thanks again for doing this, Dan. It’s really nice of you,” Phil is saying, though Dan is barely listening. He’s typing the various codes and instructions Phil had reeled off a moment ago into the notes of his phone, but mostly he’s trying to keep himself from looking Phil in the eye.

“It’s really not a problem,” Dan says, shrugging. He pockets his phone, wrapping his arms around his middle. “Your flat is, like, ten times nicer than mine. Not to mention super close to the bar.”

Phil smiles, though he still looks abashed. Perhaps Dan should invite him round to his shitty Kemptown flat one day, then Phil might feel less guilty for asking Dan to house-sit.

“I’m gone until Wednesday,” Phil informs him, grabbing a jacket from the row of hooks nearby. “I’ll be back around midday, probably jetlagged and grumpy as hell, so you might wanna steer clear of me.”

Phil laughs, and Dan infers that this is Phil’s polite way of asking him to be gone by Wednesday lunch time. “Got it. I should have everyone out of here by then.”

Phil pauses, one arm in one sleeve, an adorable frown caught on his befuddled face. “Who out of where?”

“Oh, all the hundreds of people I’ll be inviting round for a week-long orgy.”

Dan’s straight face seems to catch Phil off guard for a split second, and then he laughs, giving himself away. Phil dissolves into laughter with him, tongue caught between his teeth.

“Just put a cover over the couch, yeah? It’s velvet. Stains easily.”

“Ooft, no promises.” Dan jokes back. His heart pangs as the easy banter slips off his tongue.

Doing this jokey back and forth with Phil used to be fun. It used to excite him, how effortlessly they could buffet off one another’s humour; now, in the wake of Tyler’s words the other day, it’s just painful. This ‘friendship’ with Phil had once seemed like a miracle. Now all Dan can see is a pretence. He hasn’t told Tyler about the fact that Phil has asked him to stay in his flat, because it just seems further proof that Phil is only using him.

But Dan’s weak, and he couldn’t refuse Phil anything if he tried.

“...and I’ll call and check in now and then just to make sure you’re okay,” Phil is saying, Dan realises with a start. He nods, trying to show he’s been listening, and Phil beams at him, jacket zipped up. “So, see you in a week then, I guess!”

Dan’s about to go in for a safe handshake, but then Phil is wrapping an arm around him, his other hand on the handle of his suitcase. He squeezes Dan tight, and Dan lets out a sound that he hopes is muffled by the broad, warm chest he’s smushed against.

He’s released after a moment, and he’s pretty sure he’s bright red. He nods, taking a swift step backwards. “Y-yep, see you. Have fun in the Maldives.”

Phil rolls his eyes, making an ‘ugh’ sound. “Not likely.”

It seems a bizarre reaction, but Dan is used to Phil speaking about his work with distaste at this point. Dan tries to stave off judgement, but it’s difficult to view these eye rolls and grimaces as anything other than ungrateful. Phil is going to spend a week pouting for a camera on a beach in the blazing sunshine. Dan is going to spend this week sweating behind a bar, then crawling home to someone else’s sofa to eat his weight in crisps and fall asleep.

“Well, uh, send me some pics,” Dan says, not sure what else to say. For whatever reason, the idea of this seems to perk Phil up.

“I will!” He gives Dan a small wave as he opens the door, and then, right before it closes, he blows a kiss. “By-eee!”

The door clicks shut behind him, and Dan stares at it for a moment, replaying that kiss in his mind. “Bye,” he whispers to nobody.

Friday nights are karaoke, and it usually gets a little messy. The gays love to sing, and with a few drinks in their system, they’re practically unstoppable. More often than not, the hardest part of the evening is dragging them off stage when it’s closing time.

With the help of Matt, Dan manages to boot the last few out of the door, and sighs in relief. Now there’s just a final clear up to do, and he can wander down the road to crash at Phil’s. He grabs a rag and starts wiping down the bar.

“Dodie, could you switch the music off?” Dan calls.

“On it!”

“Lara, would you grab a mop? I think the guy’s bathroom could use a once over.”

“Already did it, Dan!”

Dan lifts a smile to her, impressed. She’s sealing the mop and bucket back in the cleaning cupboard already. “Thanks, you’re a star.”

“What shall I do, boss?”

Dan turns to face Tyler, who is smiling sheepishly at him from the other end of the bar. “You’re as much of a boss as I am, Ty. Figure your own jobs out.”

It comes out a little bit colder than he intends it to, but Tyler is undeterred. “Don’t equate such lowly peasants with yourself, boss!”

Tyler scoots close, then grabs the rag from Dan’s hand. “Hey!” Dan exclaims.

“Let me do that,” Ty says, still beaming. “You’re tired. Go home, I’ll lock up.”

“It’s my turn,” Dan points out.

“Pfft,” Tyler say, swiping the rag through the air. “I don’t mind. Besides, I’ve got Dodie and Lara to help me.”

Dan sighs, wanting to protest. He knows this is Tyler’s way of apologising for what he said about Phil the other night, but it makes Dan uncomfortable. Sure, Tyler had said some things Dan didn’t exactly want to hear, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have said them. His apologies are unnecessary.

“Fine,” Dan says, exasperated. “But I’m locking up tomorrow.”

Tyler holds the rag up, and places his other hand over his heart. “Scout’s honour.”

Dan shoots him a tight smile, then squeezes out from behind the bar. He crosses the dancefloor to the staff room and gathers his things. As he’s coming out, he notices Tyler and Dodie in a deep discussion that ends abruptly when they spot him.

Wanting to groan, Dan shakes his head at them. “Guys, I’m not a fucking idiot okay, I know you’re talking about me.”

“It’s just…” Dodie swallows, her eyes darting to Tyler’s briefly. “We’re worried. Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet since…”

She trails off.

“Since I shoved my foot in everything and tore you to pieces for just having a crush,” Tyler finishes. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Ty, you’ve apologised literally like fifty times,” Dan reminds him, already pulling on his jacket.

“I know but… I just don’t want you to think that anything I said was anything except me lashing out because of my own love troubles,” Tyler says, walking over to him. “I don’t think Phil is intentionally being a dick to you. I just let all the gossip from the bar filter into my brain.”

“We’re just worried,” Dodie says again, biting her thumb.

“Well, that’s all very sweet,” Dan says, sighing. “But you don’t have to worry anymore. You were right in a way, it’s not very healthy for me to be so… close to him. I’m distancing myself for the time being.”

Technically, technically, there’s a lot of distance between he and Phil right now. Over 5,000 miles, in fact. This probably doesn’t count, however. After all, he saw Phil earlier on today, and will probably be texting him from his very own couch later on. Dodie and Tyler don’t need to know this, though.

Dan watches with mild despair as the two of them exchange one of their long, loaded glances; it’s filled with unspoken concern.

“Okay, I’m off,” Dan announces before either of them can verbalise it. He gives a brief wave, then heads for the door. “See you gays tomorrow.”

“Wait, Dan-” Tyler begins to say, but Dan just throws him another dismissive wave.

“Bye!” He calls, then wrenches open the door and steps out into damp morning chill.

Phil has every season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD, along with all of Game of Thrones, every Studio Ghibli movie, and most Marvel films. Once he’s let himself into Phil’s flat, checked the houseplants, removed his jacket and shoes, and made a de-stress cup of tea, Dan kneels before Phil’s collection. He’s down there for a good ten minutes before settling on Captain America as his choice for a wind-down film.

He pops it in the DVD player and loads it up, then settles into Phil’s deliciously comfy couch to watch. As the opening credits roll, he snaps a photo of his hand holding the mug of tea, the film’s title screen in the background. He dithers, unsure whether to post it to his newly popular Instagram. His overtired brain is too mushy to think about it too much, so he slaps a warm filter on it, and posts it with the caption:

cap’s helping me wind down after a long shift

It immediately starts being hit with likes and comments, which is too much for Dan to comprehend right now, so he just locks the phone and shoves it in his pocket. He’ll read the comments tomorrow.

Dan’s just getting to the bit where Chris Evans’ CGI skinny body is being pumped up into his muscly self, when his phone trills. Confused, Dan pauses the film and reaches for it. Phil’s name stares out from the screen. He swipes it immediately, already bolt upright with concern.

“Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything’s great,” Phil says. “Just checking in.”

Dan had been expecting a sombre, possibly urgent tone; contrarily, Phil seems to be his usual, chipper self. Dan checks the time on his phone, frowning. It’s 3am, meaning it’s 7am in the Maldives.

Dan rubs his eyes. “It’s so early.”

“Oh, crap, did I wake you up? I just thought ‘cause of your Instagram post that you’d be chilling after work, sorry.”

“No, I mean it’s early for you.”

“Oh,” Phil says, laughing. “Nah, this is when I have to get up for my shoot. The best light for beach photos is sunrise.”

“Oh,” Dan says, surprised. He never thought about that. “God, that must suck. Aren’t you jetlagged?”

“Super jetlagged!” Phil laughs again. “I’m used to doing shoots half asleep, don’t worry.”

“Have some coffee,” Dan suggests.

“I’ll definitely be trying to wrangle some caffeine from somewhere,” Phil agrees. His tone of voice suggests that it doesn’t look promising. “So, how’s your first night in the flat going?”

Dan glances around himself. “It’s, uh, quiet.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Phil says. “It can get pretty lonely there.”

This makes Dan frown. Phil has never mentioned being lonely before. “It’s cool, I’ve got Cap and Bucky to keep me company.”

“Ah, yes! Are you watching Civil War?”

“No, just the first one.”

“Awesome,” Phil says emphatically. “Well, enjoy the not-so-subtle gay undertones. I’d better get to the beach.”

“You poor soul,” Dan says sarcastically, which makes Phil laugh.

“Get to bed soon, okay? I know Chris Evans’ abs look really good on my obnoxiously large TV, but you’re working tomorrow.”

Dan chuckles. “Yes mum.”

“Night, young man.”

“Morning, you mean.”

“Hah, I guess you’re right. I’ll check in tomorrow, sweet dreams!”

“Oh, you don’t have to check in tomorrow if-”

The line goes dead, and Phil is gone. Dan blinks down at his phone, slightly thrown by the conversation. It’s difficult to believe that Phil is so concerned about the wellbeing of his houseplants that he’d call Dan the first morning of his trip. Now that Dan thinks about it, Phil hadn’t even asked about the houseplants.

An overwhelming fatigue throws itself over Dan suddenly, and he yawns, throwing his phone to one side, where it continues to blink with Instagram notifications. He should really switch those off. He blinks at the TV, eyes already growing heavy; he’s sure he won’t make it to the end of the movie.

With a hefty amount of willpower, Dan switches off the TV and heads to Phil’s room to grab the duvet. As he’s pulling the heavy quilt from the mattress however, he pauses, arms aching with the weight of it already. Would it really be so bad to take up Phil’s offer of just falling into the bed?

It will undoubtedly be weird, and he’ll probably hate himself for it tomorrow morning, because he’ll spend the whole of the next day (week, month, and year) dreaming about exactly how Phil’s bed feels and smells. But he’s exhausted, and it looks far more inviting than the couch right now.

Before he can argue himself out of it, Dan is shimmying off his jeans, pulling his t-shirt over his head, and crawling into the tantalisingly soft cocoon of the bed. He actually moans; these sheets feel divine against his skin. They’re probably Egyptian cotton or something. Dan would take longer to think about it, but he closes his eyes, and falls instantly asleep.

Two hours before they are due to close on Saturday, at around 3am, a girl approaches the bar. She is pretty and slim, with a short, tight dress on and long dangly earrings. She’s wearing red lipstick and her hair is bleach blonde. Not wanting to judge prematurely, Dan gives her his usual customer-service smile; in the back of his mind, however, he can’t help but note that this girl is very much not the type of customer that they usually get at Habenero’s.

In other words, she gives off a rather… heterosexual vibe.

“Hi,” the girl says, grinning at him. She leans forwards on the bartop, pushing out her boobs rather obviously. Dan raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. “A Malibu and Coke, please.”

“Sure,” Dan says, turning to make it.

“Actually,” she says, making him turn. “Make it a Diet Coke. I’m such a sugar fiend. Need to watch myself.”

Briefly, Dan looks her up and down. Her body is gorgeous, clearly the result of daily gym trips and a careful diet. A full-fat Coke wouldn’t even touch her skinny frame, and she knows it. He’s not in the mood to pander to her obvious attempt at fishing for compliments.

If she wants her ego stroked, she’s barking up the wrong tree.

“Don’t we all,” Dan says instead, and reaches for the soda hose.

The drink takes seconds to make, and he places it before her. “No straw?” She asks, smirking. “My lipstick is Dior. Can’t waste it on the rim of a glass, can I?”

Dan shrugs at her. “Sorry, we’ve introduced a no-straw policy at the club. Brighton’s a green city.”

For a moment, her smile wavers, but then it’s fixed back in place. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

The scarlet lips form a perfect ‘o’. Her look of realisation seems ingenuine, like she’s performing a pre-rehearsed scene. “Oh my God! You’re AmazingPhil’s friend, right?” At the sound of his name, Dan freezes up. “David, is it? No, wait, Dan!”

“Uh, I think you’ve got the wrong person,” Dan mutters, though he can feel the heat flood to his cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be coy!” She laughs, and then she’s got her arm on his shoulder; she’s leaning right over the bar to reach him, which looks awkward. “You’re the bartender he keeps posting about, right?”

“Could be,” Dan says vaguely.

“Yes, yes, it’s totally you! Gosh, you’re so much cuter in person.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He shifts awkwardly. “So, it’s five-fity for the Malibu and Diet Coke,” Dan tries to say, but she just laughs him off.

“So, oh my gosh,” she leans even closer somehow, a wry, knowing smile stretching her lipsticked mouth into a joker-ish smear. “Tell me. Is Phil just as cute in person too?”

Dan feels his cheeks warming. “Oh, um, I- I don’t know.”

“Aw, come off it. You have to admit he’s cute, right?” Her teeth are dazzlingly white as she grins at him; it’s mildly disconcerting in the low light.

“I guess,” Dan says. He looks around for another customer, trying to find an excuse to leave the conversation.

“And you guys met in Brighton? At this club?”

“...Yep.”

“So, like, you already knew who he was, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“You were a fan of him? You followed his Insta?”

“I, uh, well… yes, but-”

“I bet he was flirty.” She grins again, teeth blinding. “Does he flirt with you?”

“He’s kind of flirty, I suppose,” Dan admits, trying not to picture all the many, many times Phil has knocked the air from his lungs with an off-handed comment.

“Ooh,” she says, eyebrows wriggling. “That sounds intriguing. So go on, tell me, Dan. Is he good?”

“What do you mean?” Dan asks, stupidly.

“Oh, you know,” she says, and winks. “Is he good in bed? With that body, he probably doesn’t have to be, yeah?”

“Wait what? That’s not- we’re not-” Dan stammers out, cheeks scarlet by this point.

“Right, right, you’re just friends,” she says, rolling her eyes. When they meet Dan’s again, she winks a second time. “Come on, Dan, I’m not an idiot. I mean, you’re staying in his house, right?”

Immediately, Dan’s hackles go up, and he pulls back from her. “How do you know that I’m… who are you?”

Suddenly a ruckus nearby captures Dan’s attention, and he turns to see Matt ploughing through the crowd and seizing another girl by the shoulders. This second girl, also blonde and in a skimpy outfit, is holding up a phone, obviously videoing Dan.

Dan gawps at the camera, then Matt plucks it from her hand. “Unsolicited filming of our staff is not permitted. Get out.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we’re just asking him a few questions!” shouts at Matt. Her charming smile is gone now, and in its place is a ferocious snarl. “It’s perfectly within our rights to do that! He’s in the public eye, isn’t he?”

One hand on the filming girl’s shoulder still, Matt seizes Malibu-and-Diet-Coke-girl by her upper arm. “You’re out too, Princess. Highly doubt this is your sort of establishment anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Malibu-and-Diet-Coke-girl shouts, trying to break free of his grip.

“It means,” Dan cuts in, anger starting to swirl in his blood as he processes the situation. “That we don’t throw a Pride parade every year just so you and your gaggle of plastic friends can paint on rainbows and find a GBF.”

“You heard him,” Matt says, beginning to frogmarch the two girls towards the exit.

“This is discrimination!” One of them shouts on their way.

“Must be so hard for you poor straight white girls,” Matt replies, ever the sarcastic one.

A few people gathered near the bar clap then, cheering as the girls depart.

“Nice one, mate,” Nick, one of their regulars, calls out to Dan. He nods, still embarrassed, and Nick approaches the bar. “She was out of order.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, mind still reeling. “I don’t get it, though. Why was she filming me?”

“Well, ‘cause you’re in with that good-looking model dude, right? She wants exclusive behind the scenes gossip for her own account, I’d imagine. Chicks like that are always after their ten minutes of fame, so they try guzzle it from other people.” Nick says; it kind of makes sense, except for the fact that some random girl thinks Dan is anywhere near important enough in Phil’s life for him to be harbouring any secrets about the man.

Nick takes hold of the Malibu and Diet Coke Dan made for the girl, the one he now realises she never paid for. Before Dan has a moment to be annoyed about it however, Nick pushes a tenner towards him. “For the drink. Nasty stuff, Malibu, but someone’s gotta drink it, eh?”

Dan smiles at him gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll grab you some change for it.”

“No need!” Nick calls out, making Dan pause.

“Nick, it’s only a five-fifty drink.”

“Yeah, well. We’re mates, aren’t we? Keep the tip.”

Dan’s eyes fall to the ten pound note in his hands. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, course!”

“Wow,” Dan says, taken aback. “That’s seriously good of you, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No worries!” Nick takes a sip of his drink, eyes darting around the room. “So… as I was sayin’. You and that Phil fella. That’s… a thing, right?”

“What?”

“The two of you are… gettin’ it on?”

Dan drops the ten pound note back onto the bar like it’s burning. “Is this a fucking bribe? Are you trying to get me to talk about Phil?”

“Aw, come on Dan, we’re mates, aren’t we?”

“You know what,” Dan grits his teeth, snatching the drink out of Nick’s hands. “I’m not your mate, and you can fucking hit the street with those other vultures.” Dan cups a hand to his mouth, and pushes up onto his tiptoes, scanning the crowd. “Matt! Got another one!”

“Dan, for fuck’s sake, you know me,” Nick says, annoyed. “Come on, you and the Insta dude are the hottest story in town right now! You can’t blame me for trying to get in on the goss!”

“What so you can tweet about some non-existent scandal for a few more followers?” Dan asks, disgusted. “Grow up.”

“Aw, come on, you know what it’s like in the gay world,” Nick fires back. “It’s fucking vicious out there! I’ve gotta stay relevant! I need to keep up-”

Dan just ignores him and turns away. He chucks the drink, glass and all, into the sink below the bar. In the background, he vaguely hears Nick protesting as Matt drags him away, but he can’t bring himself to turn and see it.

This is insane.

Never in his wildest imaginings did Dan think that people would actually seek him out and attempt to pry information from him just because he’s vaguely associated with a moderately famous Instagram account. That one girl had even filmed the entire exchange.

It makes Dan feel sick to his stomach. He leans over the sink, watching the broken shards of glass gleam and glint in the swirling disco lights. He’s trying, over the thump of the bass, to remember what he said to her. Whatever his answers had been to Malibu girl’s interrogating questions, they’re now saved to someone’s phone.

A hand claps down on his shoulder, making Dan jump. Tyler is beside him, looking concerned.

“Matt just told me what happened, are you okay?”

Dan nods, slowly. Then, he shakes his head. “They were filming me, Ty. What did I even say? It all happened so quickly, I-”

Tyler wraps him in a hug; it helps, a little. “Shh, don’t worry about that right now.”

“I’m gonna have to tell him,” Dan says, cold realisation dawning.

“Tell Phil? About the girls, you mean?” Dan nods into Tyler’s shoulder. “Maybe. But it’s okay, you won’t have said anything that bad, I’m sure. There’s nothing to tell, right?” Dan bites his lip. “They’re just some fame-whores trying to get a slice of the action behind the scenes. You can tell Phil about it in the morning. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Dan sighs, wanting him to be right. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll ring him in the morning or something.”

Tyler pulls back to look him in the eye. “Whatever you said, it won’t be anywhere near as bad as you think, I’m sure. And hey, Phil’s a nice guy. He’ll understand.”

Dan nods, trying to calm himself with the sure, solid gleam in Tyler’s eyes. “Okay.”

On Sunday afternoon, Dan wakes up in Phil’s bed to a flurry of notifications on his phone. His followers haven’t stopped climbing since that first night Phil put him in his story; now, Dan’s follower count is in the hundred-thousands.

He checks his last photo, which is the one with Captain America and tea from Friday night. It has forty thousand likes. He reads the comments, covers balled up in one fist from nerves.

that’s phil’s place!! i recognise the rug!!! #phanisreal

dan is staying at phil’s!

isn’t he in the maldives atm? dan must be housesitting :o

i’d know that hello kitty mug anywhere!! hows phil’s place treating u dan? ;) #phan

He closes the app quickly, half wanting to delete the entire thing off his phone. These fans are bloodhounds, obsessed with a scent of some rumour they caught a whiff of. ‘Phan’ is such an alien concept to Dan, still. How can these followers even justify it to themselves? It’s preposterous to think that Dan and AmazingPhil are anywhere near on the same level, let alone in a secret romantic relationship.

“Oh, shit,” Dan mutters, his heart sinking. He clicks onto his missed calls, noting that he has five, all from Phil.

He swallows, trying to remain cool. There are some texts too, all of which came through whilst he was sleeping.

From: Phil To: Dan hey can you call me when you get a sec pls xx

From: Phil To: Dan did something happen last night at the bar? im getting a lot of messages… xx

From: Phil To: Dan ok… wanna let me know why #phan is trending worldwide?

From: Phil To: Dan have u seen what that girl @lucyintheskaii posted on twitter?? there’s a video of you. did you tell ppl that ur staying at mine? how did she find u?

From: Phil To: Dan dan i need to talk to u ur probs asleep and i get tht but im gonna skype u at 2pm your time. x

By the time he gets to the final message, Dan’s heart is pounding against his chest. He hangs onto that one final kiss, despite the fact Phil usually ends his messages with two. He glances at the time at the top of the screen, and curses, loudly.

It’s 13:59pm.

Before he can do anything to prepare, his phone is buzzing in his hand, notifying him of a Skype call coming through. He thinks seriously about declining, as he’s on the verge of a panic attack, but he reluctantly comes to a decision that not facing up to this would be far, far worse.

He accepts the call, and watches in mild horror as his own sleep-crumpled face and bare chest fills the screen. Then, Phil’s camera bursts into life, and Dan’s own image is replaced by something far more pleasing to the eye. He braces himself for Phil’s anger, having no idea what that would even look like.

“Phil, oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Dan blurts. “I should’ve called you last night when I got back from work and told you what happened, but Tyler convinced me I should wait until morning, and I was just so exhausted, and I convinced myself the thing with that girl wasn’t that big of a deal, but obviously you have every right to be mad, I was so stupid and-”

“Dan, hey, hold up,” Phil says, voice raised to be heard over Dan’s ramble. “Calm down, I’m not mad. Why would I be? I’m worried about you.”

Dan blinks. “Why?”

For some reason, this makes Phil laugh. “Because you were ambushed by some deranged fangirls! And it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Dan. I should never have said where you worked on my account. My fans are… intense.”

“Wait,” Dan says, confused. He sits up a little, trying to understand. “You’re not the one who needs to apologise. I said all that stuff to that girl! Her friend filmed it all. And she… did you say she put the video of it on Twitter? That’s awful, Phil, I’m such a fucking idiot, I-”

“Yeah,” Phil interrupts with a long sigh. “The Twitter video isn’t… ideal. But I’ve had literal nudes leaked before, Dan. I can handle you telling people I get a bit flirty IRL.”

Phil winks, and Dan blushes, partly because he’s only just now remembered telling that girl Phil is a flirt, and partly because he remembers the leaked nudes Phil is referring to. Not one of Dan’s proudest moments, searching the internet for those on incognito mode. He’d only found them once. And once was definitely enough; he’s not about to forget something like that.

“I guess,” Dan says, trying hard to focus on the situation at hand. “But I’m just so sorry for not realising what was happening, Phil. I should’ve known that girl was after something. I must’ve caused you so much stress.”

Phil shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He’s too nice, that’s the trouble. Dan stares at the pixelated version of this beautiful man, wishing he could reach out for Phil’s hand. Phil would probably take it; he’s not opposed to touchy-feely stuff, and if he knew how badly Dan needed physical reassurance right now, he’d do it, Dan’s sure. Phil’s sitting at a table outside, on what appears to be a balcony overlooking a white sandy beach. There’s a light breeze ruffling his hair, and the sun is setting behind him. He has his chin in one hand, and a tiredness in his eyes.

Dan imagines he can smell the salt spray blowing through Phil’s locks. Stupid, soppy words are on the tip of Dan’s tongue, about how gorgeous Phil looks in the soft evening light, or how much it means to Dan that Phil’s deigning to so much as speak to him after he was so stupid with that girl, but right then, a door slams, hard. It comes from somewhere on Phil’s end, and it’s muffled, but it still makes Dan jump.

Phil looks towards the noise, sighing.

“What was that?”

“Charlie. He’s pretty annoyed about… this.”

Something heavy and blunt falls into Dan’s stomach. “Oh. I didn’t know Charlie was with you.”

Phil glances back at the screen. “Didn’t I say?”

Dan shakes his head. He would have remembered that small detail, he’s sure. Though he guesses it makes a little more sense now that Phil picked him to house-sit, as opposed to asking Charlie.

“So, Charlie’s annoyed with me, then,” Dan deduces.

Phil shrugs. “I think Charlie’s annoyed with everyone most of the time. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“What’s he been saying?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Phil’s eyes avert from Dan’s.

From this small gesture alone, Dan can imagine exactly what Charlie’s saying.

Why are you even associating with that rando from the bar?

This is what happens when you stoop to their level, Phil!

He’s got the hots for you, and he’s gonna make up some bollocks about how you’re secretly fucking to bump up his follower count even more!

“Sorry I got you guys into a fight.”

Phil chuckles, but it sounds dark, hollow. “When are we not in a fight?”

So many words fight to push their way out of Dan’s throat. They want to scream that Phil is so much more than this, that he should realise his own worth and ditch Charlie for someone that deserves him. He swallows them down as best he can, creating a lump, the size of a boulder, in his throat.

Phil turns back to look at him, a sad smile on his face. Then, one eyebrow twitches, and he smirks. “Are you in my bed?”

Heat flames into Dan’s cheeks, and he attempts to pull the covers over his chest. “Fuck, sorry… I’ll wash the sheets and stuff-”

Phil is laughing, which cuts Dan off. “Dan, it’s okay. I said you could have the bed, didn’t I?”

“Well… yes, but-”

Phil yawns then, smiling sleepily at him. “You look cute under my covers. Wish I was there, to be honest.”

Dan’s heart spasms. He wonders if Charlie can hear what Phil’s saying, and whether Phil is only saying it to get a rise out of his boyfriend.

“It’s, um, very comfy. High thread count.”

Phil laughs again. “The thread count is top of my priorities.”

“So, is the shoot going okay and stuff?” Dan asks, wanting to move the subject into safer territory, so his heart rate can settle back into a human rhythm.

Phil shrugs. “It’s kind of difficult posing sexily on a beach with someone who currently hates my guts, but other than that it’s fine.”

Dan winces. “Is it that bad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Teleport me into the bed with you so we can watch Buffy and fall asleep?”

Another heart spasm. Another flush whipping into his cheeks. “Hah, I’ll…. see what I can do.”

There’s another door slam then, and Phil glances up, smile disappearing. “I’d better go.” He sounds reluctant. “I’ll call tomorrow, see how you’re holding up.”

“Okay,” Dan says. He shifts, still feeling guilty. “Seriously Phil, I don’t know how much of that video you saw, but… I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It won’t happen again.”

“I know, Dan. It’s my fault, I threw you in the deep end with all this stuff.” Phil smiles at him. “I forget sometimes that being friends with me isn’t as simple as it used to be. I come with a twin. His name’s AmazingPhil, and he’s kind of a jerk. Causes all sorts of trouble.”

Dan laughs at the analogy, shrugging one shoulder. “I kinda like him.”

“He likes you too,” Phil says, winking again. “It’s not your fault some girl attacked you over him though, Dan. You’re wonderful, okay? It’s everyone else who sucks.”

The corner of Dan’s mouth twitches. “Um, thanks. You… you too.”

“Enjoy your day off.” Phil waves. “Try not to worry about this. It’ll all blow over in two seconds anyway.”

“Okay,” Dan says, unsurely. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

The expression that flits across Phil’s face suggests that this is unlikely. “Thanks, Dan,” he says anyway, then blows a kiss, and is gone.

At around eight in the evening on Sunday, Charlie posts a photo to his Instagram account. Dan follows Charlie out of curiosity more than politeness, but he sees it in his feed, right at the top. It’s a photo of him and Phil, knee deep in the ocean, holding hands as they stare out towards the horizon.

Their silhouettes are perfect and symmetrical, their broad shoulders and tapered waists looking as if they’d been painted onto the streaky orange sky behind them. The picturesque image hits Dan like a punch to the stomach, dull and painful, winding him momentarily.

The caption reads:

happy anniversary baby <3

It’s been bombed with likes.

omg i didnt know you guys had an anniversary today!!!

congratulations charlie and phil! u r couple goals!! #chil4eva

so happy for you both! give phil a kiss from me cha ;) xx

#netflixandchil later guys?! ;) <3

A hot, stinging sensation burns in Dan’s retinas. He throws his phone to the couch, and doesn’t look at it again for the rest of the night.

Three more fame-hungry girls and nine more gossip-thirsty guys track Dan down over the course of Monday night. Tyler makes a sign for the bar counter that says ‘Want To Quiz The Bartender? Hope You Like The Taste Of Ass...phalt’, which helps a little, but doesn’t entirely ward off the AmazingPhil stans.

Dan just keeps his mouth clamped shut for the night. He’s not really in the mood to talk to anyone anyway. That photo of Charlie and Phil seems to be burned into the back of his mind; it’s there every time he so much as blinks, taunting him. He refuses to take his break halfway through his shift, sure that the photo will dance teasingly in front of his retinas for the whole twenty minutes.

It just makes so little sense. Phil had seemed beaten down by the weight of Charlie’s anger when he and Dan had Skyped last night. How is it that, hours later, they’re knee deep in the warm waves of a tropical beach, holding hands in celebration of their anniversary?

“Hey, you’re him right? Dan Is Not On Fire?” It’s a giggling pair of young guys this time, nudging each other forwards. “Phil is totally into you.”

The other one squeals, clapping a hand over the first one’s mouth. “Oh my God, I can’t believe my friend I’m so sorry.” He releases his hold on the other guy, laughing. “But seriously, we both ship Phan way more than Chil.”

It feels like a bolt in his chest, screwed too tightly, digging in just below Dan’s ribs. “Guys, do you wanna order something?”

“Oh, no, we’re seventeen,” one of them says, and the other one smacks him. “Shit, I shouldn’t’ve said that-”

“Matt!” Dan yells for what feels like the millionth time tonight. “Matt, get over here!”

“Wait, wait, can we just, like, get a selfie?” They’re snapping the photo before Dan can turn away, and he scowls at them both. “Thanks! Follow us on Insta!” They chirp, laughing, and are gone before Matt can push through the crowd.

Tyler throws a plastic cup after them, which Dan is grateful to him for. “We’re gonna need to hire more security at this rate.”

“It’ll blow over when Phil gets sick of me,” Dan says.

“Gets sick of you? He’s in here all the time!”

For now, Dan thinks privately.

He doesn’t reply out loud, he just turns to the next customer, who is, mercifully, just another regular. The realisation that Dan is coming to with the blow of each crushing Phil/Charlie couple photo, is that eventually Phil is going to seek out greener pastures.

Once he’s settled into Brighton, Phil will find his own social class of people to hang out with, people more like Charlie, that understand designer labels and spend their weekends at fancy film premieres or in their second homes in Bali.

Up with the elite is where Phil belongs, even if Dan was able to tether him in the dirt for a while, playing Mario Kart and plying him with sugary alcoholic drinks. Dan is an ‘in-the-meantime’ friend, someone to pass the time with until he finds a better crowd. Someone to house-sit for him, and someone who doesn’t have a lot of free time, and is therefore low-commitment. There will come a time, Dan is sure, when he will once again be just a bartender to Phil. Sure, Phil will wave and chat when he comes into the bar, but they won’t hang out, and the fans that followed Dan out of curiosity will drop away like flies when they realise that Dan is simply… dull.

It will be difficult when it happens. But Dan won’t struggle against the current; he’s not stupid, and he’s been poor since he was a kid. He knows how society is separated into the wealthy and the not-so-much, and how the divide can rip through even the tightest of bonds.

He barely even knows Phil, still. There’s no doubt in Dan’s mind that one day, yet again he won’t know Phil at all besides the pictures that occasionally flash up on his phone.

On Tuesday morning, Dan wakes up earlier than usual. At first, he thinks it might be the seagull screeching right outside his window, but he’s lived in Brighton for years; it takes a lot of squawking to wake him.

He rolls over, still swathed like a baby in the thick covers of Phil’s bed, and immediately freezes, realising what it is that has woken him. There’s a body beside him, faced away. Even if Dan couldn’t recognise him by the shock of black hair, he’d know the bare, pale back, dotted with tiny freckles. He’d know the Emoji pyjama pants, and the shallow, even breaths that come out with a slight snore.

For a long, long time, Dan doesn’t move an inch. He just stares at the silhouette of the man he’s dreamed about laying next to for so, so long. He suspends his belief, and allows his mind to wander, to imagine that this is real, that Phil is his, and that he’ll roll over any second, give Dan a lazy smile, and kiss Dan’s world into colour.

None of this happens, obviously. So Dan just watches him, counting the minutes he gets to have this, and prays that it never ends.

(Part 8 !)

#phanfic #phan #bartender au #phanfiction

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tahdashi · 3 years ago

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ghost of christmas past present and future who now?

i don’t know why i said that it was funny in my head

but ykw i have a loophole — i will read it starting tomorrow because i need an independent reading book for ela tmr so there we go !!

plans for black friday? i’ve got a sweet 16 to attend actually (and the dress i picked reminds me of kuroo oml)

omg i'm sorry for answering this so late i haven't been on here in a bit :,) but yes please read it i think you'll love it??? the main characters also go to france so i think you'd like that !!

eee i'm going black friday shopping when i go home!! and maybe online shopping too?? i haven't bought clothes in a while because i've been trying to be conscious about fast fashion and all that, but there's a thrift store in the city that has amazing black friday deals !!

have fun at the sweet 16 (if it's already passed, how was it?) omg is your dress red??

#nova ✧˚ · .#novyu 🌟#from the stars

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losingitinjersey · 7 years ago

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Dietbet has officially started (!!!) and not a moment too soon. The temptations around me were vast but I am quite proud of my behavior despite my carb-loading intentions. Let’s dig in and see why:

Friday:

Went out to lunch with Kevin at Guy Fieri's Smokehouse. I was planning on ordering a cobb salad (with no blue cheese crumbles, cause ew) but Kevin wanted the BBQ platter. Since the platter was $34 we decided to split it instead. I had one tiny bite of his mac & cheese but other than a bit of bbq sauce and three french fries ate only meat, brussel sprouts with bacon and some coleslaw. Didn’t even touch that white bread shown! B+

Since dietbet was starting on Sunday and Kevin is now a participant with me (!!!) he wanted to eat at Alkaline again before we couldn’t cheat for a month so at 7 p.m. off we went to our favorite ramen place. This time we also ordered sticky wings and beer to help pre-game for the party we were going to that night. C- (but oohh sssooo good) (although I got mad stains on my blouse from all my slurpy ramen eating, whoops)

After Alkaline we walked over to the house party but we were so full of ramen and broth that we barely were able to choke down another beer each and just wanted to go home and go to sleep like an old couple, so we left and were home by 9:30 p.m. B

Saturday:

We were originally planning to do a big brunch out (last chance eating before diet!) but Kevin slept in until noon (his first weekend off studying in like forever so it was well deserved) that by the time he got up we just wanted to have an easy morning at home so I made breakfast. A

We also were planning on doing a big carby lunch full of sandwiches and goodness but laziness won out for the day so we both just fixed ourselves some food with what we had in the house (low carb only) A Fun fact: I spent the latter part of the day playing the “new” King’s Quest which pleased my soul sooo much.

At 8:30 p.m. we drove to Suffolk for the Basic Backyard Bonfire featuring boozy apple cider and s’mores! After having a cup of rum and apple cider the amount of sugar I just ingested made the idea of eating chocolate and marshmallows completely unappealing (wtf is wrong with me!?!). So I had that one cup of cider, one beer, and a few bites of a trail mix. B-

Sunday:

Dietbet mode initiate! Measured out 2 tsp of cream for my coffee. Counted out my bacon slices in advance. Was productive doing laundry and sweeping my kitchen while cooking. I swear, dietbet is making me a better human being. A+

You’ll see I included my beginning weigh-in photos for dietbet last month and this month. Wish I could see more of a change in my body in these pictures. Love when I can’t tell a difference and feel like I look even heavier? Whatever. I’ll see some actual progress soon enough. Also, super weird that my awesome MS Paint skills made my sink fill-in with the black background?!

All in all, thanks to laziness and guilt I didn’t go as overboard as expected!!

Also, to make this post even longer, at the party on Saturday I chatted with this girl who’s a powerlifter and was telling me about her gym and I’m getting really interested in joining and learning how to lift. Thanks to seeing @stef-eee‘s posts and wanting to be stronger (and not do cardio but still work out) I’m definitely entertaining the idea of giving this a shot. She said there are beginner classes which is exactly what I need. Maybe soon I might be integrating some exercise and muscle building into my life?! Super fun to think about!

#fitblr #keto #dietbet #low carb #lchf #weekend recap #always room for cat pictures #paint skillz

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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Eddie Money made my crappy life seem perfect, if only for 3 minutes every month

Photo by Scott Legato/Getty Images

Eddie Money passed away Friday, 33 years after giving the world his greatest gift.

The first thing we changed when we moved into the Wallingford Social Club in 2003 was our midnight party song. Wonderwall was out. Take Me Home Tonight was in.

The WSC was, by most official measures, a third world country. It was once a resplendent house stuck between the North Oakland, Shadyside, and Bloomfield neighborhoods of Pittsburgh, the resting place of mill managers who drank something better than Stroh’s and blithely ignored the pleas of their workers. When I moved in, it was a split level residence with a papier-mâché door and a stack of cinder blocks put in place to divide the two sides.

We couldn’t drink the water there our final two years because it had abnormally high levels of lead. Winters meant an $800 monthly heating bill just to keep pipes from bursting and toilets from freezing solid. We were a group of scumbag architecture students sandwiched between a Chabad House and a Baptist minister. Their forgiveness — and much more likely, pity — factored heavily in our continued existence without police intervention.

The WSC — our house — was roughly a 15-minute walk from the Carnegie Mellon campus (20 if you were hustling back on an hour-long break between classes, somehow). It was also the epicenter of the “Archi Party,” a gathering of the sleep deprived masses eager to excise the demons haunting them from 120 hours of studio time for the cost of a $5 Solo cup.

One thing to note about Carnegie Mellon is that it’s mostly a dour and miserable place with mostly dour and miserable students. The campus could be packed with people bustling from class to class and you wouldn’t make eye contact with any of them. This was truest in the architecture program.

All of us spent time sleeping in the halls and grimed-down couches of the Margaret Morrison Carnegie Hall. Some of us slept there more than in our actual beds. We saw each other more than our roommates. If we lived with other architecture students, we would want nothing more to murder them.

But one Friday per month, give or take, we found a way to boil that stress off in the top floor of a building whose radiators were strictly decorative. Eddie Money was our deliverance.

At midnight at the WSC, DJ Chaz’s stream of OutKast, Twista, and Prince gave way to the building synth of Money’s masterpiece. The previous tenants had leaned toward Oasis, but the Not-Beatles were decidedly uninteresting to us. Meanwhile, Take Me Home Tonight was the mid-80s comeback song that pushed Money out of a drug abuse spiral and back into the mainstream. It was also, unequivocally, the perfect party song for a group of stressed out misfits light years away from a typical college experience.

Everything slowed down when those first notes hit. The bar area emptied. Cloves were quickly dashed into the brick exterior of the house. The party swelled like a sprained ankle.

Sometimes there was a microphone and one of us who lived at the house would give a rambling toast to nothing. Sometimes there wasn’t. It made no difference. All people wanted to do was lift a Solo cup filled with the finest booze named after Russian peninsulas, grab a friend or whomever they were flirting with at the time, and sing.

whooooaaaa, oh-whoa, oh whoooa. yeah yeaaaaah eee-yeah, ee-yeeaaaaaah

Then the Money man took over. The house roared to life like a steam engine, sputtering wispy fumes of Natural Light through windows that only retained heat in the summer. The lyrics were aural Teflon; every shitty thing from the previous day, week, or month slid away from it

The song itself was cheesy, but it resonated with a bunch of kids who grew up in the 80s and saw visions of Ronnie Spector dancing on VH1 whenever their mom wanted to work out in front of the TV. Eddie warned us about sleepless nights and walking these city streets like he was introducing us to a mismatched pair of police officers from an underdeveloped crime drama.

And then it hit:

TAKE ME HOME TO-NIGHT, I DON’T WANNA LET YOU GO TIL YOU SEE. THE. LIGHT. TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT, LISTEN ARE YOU JUST LIKE RONNIE SANG...

BE MY LITTLE BABY

The middle portion was filled with the wrong lyrics barked 100 different ways, and it didn’t matter. It was the nerdiest bacchanalia in the world compared to what we assumed was happening at actual colleges, and we all bought in. That chorus wasn’t sung, it was screamed in triumph over another shitty week at a shitty school preparing for shitty jobs designing Jamba Juices and Whole Foods and making $35,000 per year.

As far as we could tell, this was the experience we’d all been missing. The rite of passage for which we’d slogged through high school. And the architect behind it all was Eddie Money.

Huh.

These parties typically lasted two more hours afterward, dropping off an 80s-inspired bell curve before we’d have to stack up half-empty red cups and pour them down a sink that got a little more clogged every party. Saturdays were spent cleaning a house that would remain low-key sticky for the next week. Sundays meant we were all back in the studio or working elsewhere, trying to keep our place at a college that did everything in its power to let us know it didn’t actually give a shit about us.

I stuck around CMU’s architecture program for three semesters before leaving, effectively quitting before they could fire me. I landed in the university’s creative and professional writing tracks and pitched a story idea about a school populated by the unknowing clones of famous people.

It revolved around the lonely lost child of Eddie Money. It also turned out that “Clone High” had perfected that angle long before I’d thought of it. Now I write about football.

Money followed the same trajectory as most secondary 80s rock stars, finding temporary homes at regional gambling halls and state fairs after his days of headline tours and popular clubs were behind him. I saw him around 2006 at Connecticut’s Foxwoods Casino. While this 60ish-year-old man labored through hits like “Baby Hold On” and “Shakin,” he brought out an extra gear to close his show with “Take Me Home Tonight.” Money knew. And I, drunk as I’d been those college nights at the WSC, stood and shouted in raw wonder.

That midnight tradition still mostly comes up at weddings, and mostly gets the same response. Much fancier drinks than the ones we’d raised in 2003 get tabled as we go arm-over-shoulder across a parquet dance floor. The build remains perfect, slowly spiraling up to that first chorus, then taking off like a roller coaster and hitting top speed once Ronnie chimes in. Some people may hate it. These are not my friends.

Edward James Mahoney passed away September 13, 2019 after battling esophageal cancer. Eddie Money, though? He lives three minutes and 35 seconds at a time, reminding me that, holy shit, things can be perfect. Just not for long.

Thanks, Eddie. You’ll be missed.

youtube

(Sorry that I couldn’t find your official video on YouTube, too.)

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maychorian · 7 years ago

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Eee, I just bought online tickets to go to the Shedd Aquarium tomorrow. This vacation is gonna be great. Yeah, it’ll be a six-plus hour round trip to do it in a day, but I’ll listen to The Adventure Zone in the car. Gonna go see the FISH. Gah, I love aquariums.

Also planning to see Spiderman Homecoming today, finally. Wednesday night gonna marathon Voltron Season One on rabbit.tv with anyone who wants to join me. Thursday Season Two, of course. Friday SEASON THREE. Saturday is the annual auction and sale at the children’s home my parents work at, which is always a fun time. In between I’m gonna read fics and make recs and maybe catch up on some anime. I also want to see Valerian somwhere in there. Also gonna do some writing. I’m thinking I’ll get another couple of chapters of The Godsent Wanderer done, plus maybe the next one-shot for Boom Crash.

Gonna be a great week.

#life #maychorian goes on vacation

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easiestwaytoloseweight · 5 years ago

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Top 5 Running and Life Updates AND the 5 Day Run Faster Challenge

Hello! I missed you! Did you even notice I was gone?

No??

I could have been kidnapped!! Someone should have called the police!

Actually – I’d rather you call a really great podcast reporter to follow my tracks… telling my story in a very dramatic way… but instead of ending the show with a cliffhanger – find me! K. Thanks.

I’ve been busy working on Weight Loss Blog behind the scenes and have some exciting things to share…

A. I have YEARS of training updates, race recaps, gear reviews and recipes here! But somewhere along the way as I updated the page and redesigned things the categories got messed up. So I’m working to get it reorganized and easier to navigate. I know a lot of you are stopping by on your phone and I want to make sure it’s easy to read via mobile.

B. I have an amazing challenge coming up and have been working hard to get it ready!!!

The Run Faster 5 Day Challenge starts July 29th!!

Do you want to run faster?

Do you have a running goal?

Do you want to run stronger and feel more confident?

You’ll learn: How to set goals that help you run faster How to get to know your body to identify effort How to get started with speed workouts Running hacks that can help you get faster The tools you need to train better

AND you get all that info in the Run Faster workbook with pdf worksheets and a running log. I’ll share a video going over that day’s lesson & do a Q&A session daily.

The challenge is open to runners of all levels – anywhere in the world.

Let me know if you have any questions – DM @RunEatRepeat on Instagram

Okay… now here are some other random life updates!

1- 4th of July…

I had a fun 4th of July with my family. This is the only picture I took from the day…

2. Diego had an accident!

A friend asked me to be his plus one to a rehearsal dinner and wedding last weekend. I left Diego at his house during the dinner – he also has a Golden Retriever, Tucker. They’re best buds!

When we got back to his house after dinner I noticed something happened to Diego’s eye. Next thing ya know we’re at the Animal Emergency Room!!

We thought he punctured it or something horrible. Luckily it was ‘just’ a scratched cornea. The doctor cleaned it out, put solution in it and then checked it with a black light.

I was very scared at first!! But as soon as the doctor said it was probably a scratched cornea I relaxed a bit because…

the exact same thing happened to me a few months ago.

AND it was at the same location with the same doggo!!

Tucker accidentally scratched me in the eye and I mentioned it on my IG stories. Then, a lot of you messaged me to be safe and get it checked out.

So yeah… how random is that??! Now I have to put drops in Diego’s eye 3 times a day, but he’s going to be A-okay!

WARNING – I’m going to post a picture below of Diego’s eye. It’s a little bit gross if you’re squeamish. But I don’t think it’s that bad.

I’m sharing this because I know someone might desperately be searching for more info as their friend drives them to the Animal Emergency Room in the middle of the night and needs more info asap.

Our pets can’t tell us what’s wrong! So err on the side of caution and get them help.

This was at the emergency room. When I first saw him – his eye was super swollen and red inside. I could not see his pupil / eyeball / whatever you call it in dogs. THERE WAS NO EYEBALL.

But he didn’t seem to be in any pain. <- That’s noteworthy because if I didn’t really take a good look at his face I might not have noticed at first. Or it could have happened hours before and didn’t hurt any more?

His energy was normal, he greeted us like normal and wagged his tail. But there was very obvious trauma to his eye.

I took this pic right after we got home from the pet emergency room. He already seemed to be doing better!

Also… I drank a la la la lot at the wedding. I needed it after the eventful night before!

This is the only pic I took at the wedding. And it’s the only time I’ve put on makeup in 500 years so I’m posting it without my friend’s face because I don’t want Diego to get jealous.

3. EARTHQUAKE! I felt the earthquake last week!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

But really I was on the phone and just thought I was dizzy at first. Then, I realized it was an earthquake and just kinda stood there trying to figure out if it was going to be ‘the big one’. Nope.

4. Podcast!

There’s a new podcast episode up Friday! Please check it out on your podcast app!

On your iPhone = it’s just the Podcast app. [Or you can download Stitcher or another one] On your Android = I use Stitcher… you can also use Spotify

5. Five day challenge!

Now sign up for the Run Faster 5 Day Challenge!

And tag @RunEatRepeat so I know ya did!!

Run SMART Goals

Fill out this form to get the SMART Running Goals worksheet to your inbox!

Success! Now check your email for the worksheet! Thanks

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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saint in the city ch.8 (katlaska) - comeapart

a/n: thank you endlessly for the kind comments. this chapter is a little longer than the others, because it’s the last ever update of sitc. ch.1 here & ch.2 here & ch.3 here & ch.4 here & ch.5 here & ch.6 here & ch.7 here. always and forever, comeapart

The first thing Alaska did after the conversation with Courtney was find Katya’s office. Katya was busy, probably in the OR with Willam, and Alaska didn’t bother going to check as she let herself in. Katya’s computer was still open, and Alaska shook her head, amazed at the fact Katya hadn’t managed to have her identity stolen yet. She grabbed a sheet of paper from the side, taking a pen and getting to work returning the messages.

‘Hi(eee), asshole (Katya.) This is a note from me, Alaska (I don’t have a middle name, but I’m being open - see how easy it is?) Thunder(fuck) (5000, if you’re nasty,) and it’s not anonymous because I am not an asshole. I like you too, and if you are interested, I am free every night this week (except for thursday and friday because I have double shifts) (which you probably already know about because you seem to know more about my schedule than I do.) In the spirit of being open, ASK ME OUT ON A DATE. Thank you.’ She scribbled down, adding her number and then both Willam and Courtney’s numbers too, because she wasn’t trying to hide anything.

It was the least anonymous note she had ever written. She was pretty proud of it. She then went home, and made Courtney watch the Golden Girls with her until she stopped stressing out. Courtney made pasta, because neither of them were particularly good at cooking, and drank an entire bottle of wine between them. Alaska was pretty proud of them, and she finally managed to relax. It was what it was, and if Katya decided to ignore her completely obvious note, then nothing would be able to change that.

The door swung open at ten, and Alaska wasn’t particularly prepared in her ridiculously pink pyjamas and no bra, for Willam and Katya to walk in. Katya looked like she had walked in on something she shouldn’t have seen, but Alaska was only slightly too eager, and Katya visibly relaxed.

“I brought home something for Alaska five-thousand to do while I steal Courtney. Fair trade, right?” Willam smiled, and Alaska would’ve been mad, but Willam was a fucking genius. Even if she could’ve done with a warning beforehand.

Before Alaska could object, Willam had pulled Courtney up and dragged her away to the bedroom, locking the door behind them and leaving her alone with Katya. Willam was one shady bitch.

“I promise was going to call you,” Katya said quickly, closing the door behind her before walking over. She looked awkward, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch anything. Alaska shuffled up on the seat, patting the cushion besides her.

“Yeah?” She smiled, watching Katya walk over and looking up at her. “If I had known you were coming back, I would’ve worn like… Actual clothes.”

“You look good, though. I’m living for the Hello Kitty shorts,” Katya laughed, shaking her head and glancing to the TV. “What are you watching?”

“I don’t know. It was Golden Girls, but then Courtney was bored, so we put on Kitchen Nightmares. I think she has a crush on the chef?”

“Probably. He has the same manly, hairy shoulders Willam does,” Katya deadpanned, and Alaska laughed ridiculously loudly. Once Alaska finished laughing, Katya turned to her and raised a brow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on a date. I could pick you up tomorrow at nine?”

“Okay,” Alaska nodded, pursing her lips. “Is there a dress code? Should I wear a jacket, or just a blouse?”

“I… I don’t know? You can wear whatever you want to,” Katya shrugged, very clearly staring at Alaska’s lips. “I personally love when my dates wear their scrubs. I love the nurse fantasy.”

“One time Trixie called me out for that,” Alaska said. “I told her I was going to a costume party with a girl, and she asked what I was going to be, and I said a nurse. And then she was like, oh, you’re a shitty nurse, because a medical professional would know to put clothes on when it’s snowing outside.”

“I can guarantee I’m not going to call you out if you turn up as a slutty nurse,” Katya said seriously. “I should probably go home. I’ve had a very busy day, dealing with Willam talking about fucking Courtney while I try to operate on someone.”

“Yeah, she does that. You should try living with them. It got worse when they got engaged, too. They don’t even try to be secretive about it, they just fuck all the time,” Alaska laughed, shaking her head. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to get sick before our date. You can take me to the door, if you really want to,” Katya said, and stood up. Alaska got up too, taking Katya’s hand and making the most of the ridiculously short walk to the door.

Katya kissed her as she was about to leave, and Alaska smiled for the rest of the night.

Work was weird after, but in the best way. Katya was definitely following her around, but Alaska didn’t let it distract her, and the kiss from the night before kept her going through the long clinic hours and the mass of paperwork she had to fill in between her regular consultations. Courtney and Willam both turned up late, but Alaska didn’t even mind. She even laughed when Katya texted her, something about how her name was almost a matching amount of characters, and replied with a smiley face and a kiss.

She took off for lunch ten minutes early, and practically ran down to the Starbucks down the road and ordered two hot chocolates. About five minutes later, the door swung open, and Alaska couldn’t help but smile.

“Beat you,” Alaska winked, and Katya looked embarrassed. She shook her head, and it looked like she was actually blushing. Alaska really couldn’t stop staring, even if she wanted to.

“I was going to get you coffee,” Katya said, defeatedly.

“Oh, I know,” Alaska laughed, handing her the second cup. “I just figured, I owe you at least two months worth of these, and I’d like to get a head start on that. If it’s not too much trouble. Now, do you prefer sushi, or are you more into hot food?”

“I really like the bones of dead animals.”

“Are - Are you serious?”

“Oh my god, no,” Katya laughed, and Alaska laughed too, more out of relief than anything else. “I like sushi. Let’s get sushi.”

“I like bones, but not as food,” Alaska nodded, and lead Katya the entire way to the next shop, buying her regular order twice over and not giving Katya the chance to pay. When Katya went to complain, Alaska just shook her head, smiling wider. “C’mon. If we go to your office, we won’t get Australia’s biggest food thief on our backs for at least ten minutes.”

“Okay. I’m paying for dinner, though. Tonight,” Katya said. She looked a little shocked, but didn’t voice any problems, so Alaska just grinned as they walked back and tried not to come off as too over-eager. She didn’t think Katya would mind if she was eager, but she didn’t want to ruin anything before the first date had even happened.

Katya was still reserved, and Alaska wasn’t really sure why. They had managed to waste four years being reserved and shy already. Even now, being able to see hints of Katya’s personality shine through, Alaska felt so much better.

“So,” Alaska said, biting her lip as she tried to think about the things in Katya’s office. There wasn’t much in there, other than books about medical practises, so she took a shot in the dark at a conversation topic. “I think American pop music is superior to European pop music.”

“Listen, that’s just unrealistic. Have you heard English pop music? It’s so good, they have so many sad vocalists. And the Russian music scene is so good, and besides -”

They started walking again, and Alaska nodded in understanding with every point Katya brought up. They made it all the way back to Katya’s office without any sign of Katya shutting up, and Alaska liked it, throwing herself onto the nice couch in Katya’s office and nodding and making all the appropriate noises.

It only took Katya another five minutes to realise what Alaska had done, and eyed her suspiciously. “You did that on purpose,” She said, sitting at her desk and getting out her own food.

“I think that Russian gymnasts are nothing compared to Brazil’s gymnasts. Or China’s gymnasts,” Alaska grinned, and Katya burst out laughing, shaking her head and waving her hand in the air as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Katya lifted the little plastic fork she had, pointing it at Alaska accusingly.

“Shut up and eat your lunch, sleeping beauty,” Katya grinned.

They sat and ate in silence, and every time Alaska went to look at Katya, Katya was busy sneaking glances at her too. The second they were both finished, Alaska put the empty dish on the armrest and stretched out, declaring, “Lunch is over.” Katya looked up and smiled, and Alaska didn’t have to wait to take the hint, getting up and walking over and sitting on Katya’s lap, lacking the grace and dignity she wanted to have.

Katya opened her mouth to say something, wrapping her arms around Alaska to support her, but Alaska leant in enough that their lips brushed against each other and Katya’s mouth closed again. She tried to look up at Alaska, but she went cross-eyed in the process, and Alaska laughed hard, pulling away to properly react.

“What?” Katya pouted, holding her a little tighter when she realised Alaska was about to fall off of her lap, pulling her back in. “Not all of us normal people can be as graceful and beautiful as you, Alaska Thunder-fuck.”

“It’s not two words. It’s one. And it’s a joke, you should know that by now,” Alaska smiled, leaning back in and looking back down at her. It would’ve been more romantic if Alaska wasn’t the same height as a baby giraffe, but Katya wasn’t particularly picky, and she just shook her head.

“Not all of us are stoners, like you,” Alaska laughed again, but this time, she was quieter. She smiled a little more, leaning in, and Katya pulled back. “I have a consultation in ten,” she murmured, and her breath was hot against Alaska’s lips.

“That’s cool,” Alaska said, and Katya moved a hand up to Alaska’s hair, holding her without making the first move. Alaska wanted her to, but she wasn’t going to ask. After what Courtney had said to her, she knew she had to let Katya move at her own pace, otherwise she would never end up with her at all.

“Cool,” Katya nodded, and Alaska pulled back, getting up off of her lap and nodding. Katya nodded back, watching as Alaska left, her eyes full of desire. Alaska didn’t look back as she walked down the halls, but she could swear that Katya was watching.

“Alaska, girl, she’s seen you in your scrubs after refusing to sleep for like, three days. And she had sex with you, right? She’s seen you in those ugly Hello Kitty pyjamas, the ones which you can see your nipples through. I really don’t think it matters what you wear. Fuck, she probably even saw you after Sharon broke up with you, and if she still likes you after that, then you have a keeper,” Courtney said, splaying out on Alaska’s bed as Alaska ripped through her entire wardrobe in an attempt to find something.

“You don’t get it, it does matter,” Alaska muttered, staring at three different green dresses. All of them were absolutely disgusting, and completely inappropriate for a first date, and Alaska was halfway to a breakdown just looking at them. “It was different back then. I didn’t have a chance back then.”

“Alaska, you should know by now not to let societal expectations dictate and force you into anything you don’t want to wear. It’s misogynistic, and if Katya doesn’t get it, then -”

“Oh my god, Courtney, no,” Alaska said, shaking her head and throwing the dresses to the floor, and the growing pile of perfectly fine clothes. “Listen, it’s okay if you want to wear the same three hoodies and tennis skirts on your nights out, because you’re engaged. You’re starting to sound like Trixie, going on about how manicures are misogynistic.”

“Listen, you’re no fun,” Courtney pouted, staring up at her. “What about wearing something Willam has? It might be short on you, but she has some really nice stuff… There’s this one black dress I think would look really great on you?”

“Go get it,” Alaska said, and tried not to pick at her nails whilst Courtney dug it out. It had been worn a total of two times, had a designer label, and made Alaska’s body look extra good. She had ridiculously wide hips, but the dress made it look more like she had a thinner waist, and it definitely helped her feel better about herself. She nodded, looking at Courtney in the mirror and smiled wide. “This is perfect. Thank you, Fairy Oz Mother.”

“Oh my god, stop, Willam was talking about having kids, and I don’t wanna think about it. She can’t even keep a houseplant alive, I don’t know how the fuck she thinks she’ll be able to take care of a real living and breathing baby. I think I’m going to suggest we get a puppy instead,” Courtney nodded thoughtfully, stretching out on the bed. “You should wear the jewelry I got you for Christmas.”

“I’m going to! Is my hair okay? It’s not too flat right?” Alaska said, trying to pull her fingers through the mass of tangled hair and frowning, adding, “Is it overkill if I wear my white fluffy jacket for luck?

“Alaska, it’s never overkill to wear something for luck. You look good in literally anything, too, so,” Courtney said solemnly, so Alaska put it on, and she felt like a filmstar. “Your hair is fine. It’s never flat. Don’t forget to wear lipgloss, though.”

“Fuck,” Alaska mumbled, putting her kitten heels on and grabbing the lipgloss, applying it with a heavy hand and pocketing the tube for later, and then there was knocking on the door and it was five to nine and Alaska nearly fell over twice in her rush to say goodbye to Courtney and pick up her wallet and to answer the door, all in the same ten seconds.

When she did answer the door, Katya was wearing a knitted dress, and her hair was curlier than usual. She wasn’t sure what the fuck a knitted dress was supposed to mean, but she wasn’t about to shoot it down, especially when she looked so gorgeous in it. “You bitch,” Alaska said, opening the door wider.

“What?” Katya raised her brows, licking over her lips as she looked over Alaska. “I’m sorry I’m early. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“You’re wearing a knitted dress. Am I dressed too formal? I can go get changed, I have normal clothes, ones that don’t make me look like I robbed a Versace store -”

“Alaska, sweetheart, you look beautiful. You’re dressed perfectly. I just like this dress, and Trixie said she would kill me if I wore jeans on our first date,” Katya explained, and Alaska wasn’t particularly convinced.

“Okay, well… I need to change my jacket, because we’re clashing right now,” Alaska said, and then smiled.

“I don’t really think we clash,” Katya shrugged, following Alaska into the apartment as Alaska ripped off her jacket with some force and threw it to the ground, searching for a new jacket. “If we’re both wearing something with yellow tones, surely that means we match?”

“No, that’s worse. I really can’t - No, okay, this is a lesson for the second date, because fashion and colour-groups is too long for me to explain right now, but you need to know about it,” Alaska explained, settling on a pink jacket and pulling it on. Katya just laughed, shaking her head and leading Alaska out of her apartment, taking her hand and squeezing it as they maneuvered the stairs. Alaska was pretty sure it was already the best date she’d ever managed to have, even if she didn’t really know what was going on.

If Alaska had learnt one thing about Katya, it was that she had no idea how to plan a date. It was probably the worst date she had ever been on.

Katya took her to a restaurant where they only spoke Russian. She was completely overdressed, and she really should’ve settled on jeans and a t-shirt. She felt like a dumb bitch from the second she walked in, completely unable to understand anything, and even when Katya ordered for her, Alaska could see people staring at her. The only good part was that Katya got just as many judgemental looks, so they managed to match on that part. The waiter was ridiculously rude, and Alaska couldn’t figure out what he said, but she was pretty sure he was being homophobic.

The food wasn’t awful, but it was cold, and halfway through the meal, their conversation had managed to fizzle out entirely, and they both sat in silence listening to the Russian folk music playing over the speakers. This was definitely the kind of place Alaska never expected to be in, ever.

Katya must’ve realised how uncomfortable Alaska felt, because she nudged her with her foot under the table and smiled ever so slightly.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Katya asked, and Alaska lifted her head, giving Katya an ever so slightly desperate look of gratitude. Alaska went to pay, but Katya insisted, and Alaska wasn’t about to argue. Once they were back at Katya’s car, Alaska sat and watched Katya smoke, looking miserable. She threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with her shoe and looking back to Alaska. “I’m sorry, I thought… I sort of thought it would be really romantic?”

“It’s okay, Katya. It doesn’t matter,” Alaska mumbled, glancing down at her feet. “We can go back to mine and watch movies? And Willam and Courtney will probably be asleep by now, so you don’t have to worry about them.”

“But this was -” Katya paused, pocketing her lighter before staring directly at Alaska. “This was meant to be special. And make up for being like… Kind of creepy and stalkerish?”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Alaska touched Katya’s kand lightly, looking up at her. “You pretty much saved my life. Even if it was kind of weird.”

Katya looked at her, eyes bright between dark lashes casting shadows against her skin. “I’m glad. You’re too pretty to die young,” she said. “Do you want to come back to mine?”

“Sure,” Alaska nodded, and Katya got back in and then they were driving.

After the silence had turned from awkward to comfortable, it was nice, Katya driving down empty roads. She had a nice car, with smooth handling and comfortable seats, and Alaska didn’t feel as anxious as she had before. She felt like she was in a movie, with the lights painting Katya’s face the end credits to a story that should’ve ended long ago. Katya was beautiful, and Alaska found herself reaching back over to touch her hand again, just as a reminder that everything was real. It was the happiest she’d been in years.

When Katya pulled the car into a parking lot, Alaska blinked sleep out of her eyes that she hadn’t realised had been there. After the extra shifts she’d been taking on, she’d found herself more exhausted than before, and the shift of light made her sit up straighter. By the time Katya had parked, Alaska was completely awake again, undoing the buckle of the seatbelt and tilting her head to look up at Katya.

Katya had leaned over, her face comfortably close to her. “Hi,” Alaska breathed, and Katya kissed the curve of her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and then her lips. Alaska moved into the kiss, tilting her head and smiling at the ghost of Katya’s fingertips on her jaw.

“You were falling asleep,” Katya said quietly. “Do you want me to take you home? You don’t have to come in with me.”

Alaska whined, shaking her head and pulling back. She stayed quiet, moving slowly and stretching once she was out of the car, sighing at the comforting click of her back. She followed Katya into the building, realising that she lived in the nice part of New York City, and was only slightly surprised. What surprised her more was the fact that Katya lived alone, and that most of her apartment was filled with Russian tchotchkes.

It looked less lived in than Alaska had expected, with everything clean and in place, but it was beautiful. There were windows filling the wall and showing off the view that Katya paid for, and it felt cold. Part of Alaska was expecting Trixie or Kim to appear from nowhere, or maybe Willam, and tell her this was all a fever dream. It didn’t come, no matter how hard she pinched herself.

“The view is so pretty,” Alaska mumbled, and Katya turned ever so slightly to smile at her, eyes bright. They were already close, and when Alaska leaned in, Katya met her halfway. The kiss was slow and everything Alaska wanted, and then Katya moved in closer and wrapped her hands around her, and Alaska sighed and opened her mouth and tilted her head so that Katya didn’t have to reach up as much.

It was cold in the living space, and Alaska didn’t care, even though there were blankets folded and left on the couch cushions, because she didn’t feel it when Katya was there next to her. It felt like they had finally done something right, as if they had a world of their own in the apartment, and no amount of wrong in the world could change the way Katya was breathing unsteadily against her and all of Alaska’s thoughts were focused on Katya. Katya’s mouth on hers, her fingertips playing with the blonde curls, Katya’s hands moving ever so slightly higher on her body.

Alaska pulled away eventually, glancing back out to the neon city and the life that they couldn’t see in the darkness of the night. “Okay,” she smiled, looking back to Katya. “This is really romantic.”

“Yeah?” Katya said, and nipped at Alaska’s bottom lip, kissing her as if it was the only thing she knew how to do. “We should probably watch a movie. Like you said. Have you ever heard of the movie Contact?”

“No, but I’m down to watch it,” Alaska mumbled, glancing over Katya’s swollen lips and her smudged lipstick and the rise and fall of her chest, biting her own lip. “Go put it on.”

Somewhere between Katya putting the movie on and Alaska deciding she didn’t have enough patience, they had managed to make their way back to Katya’s bedroom. Alaska had suggested that they went slow on their way to the bed, and Katya had managed to take it to heart, which Alaska regretted from the second they were naked, because nobody could go slow like Katya Zamolodchikova. If Alaska didn’t know better, she would’ve thought that the idea of being in charge got Katya off.

Alaska was embarrassed, because in her history of one night stands and dating, nobody had made her as desperate as Katya had. She whined and pushed back against Katya, while Katya licked her open, slow and unfair, holding onto her thigh like her hand was a vice. Alaska threw her head back against the pillow, whining, and said, “Katya, please,” and Katya just pulled away, because apparently sex was a game to her. Once Alaska was pouting, she moved back down, going down on her with a certain determination that Alaska was sure was a new form of torture.

At one point, Katya laughed, because she was evil and wanted Alaska to die, but everything got better the second that Katya moved to use her hands, pulling up to kiss her again. Alaska thought that this was where she wanted to be, if she had to pick anywhere, and she vaguely wondered if heaven could hear them breathing. Everything she had been taught as a child meant nothing, and it was almost as if she had closure from lying besides Katya, that it wasn’t as big of a deal as everyone had made it before.

If this was taboo, she was more than happy to share with Katya, and when she moved to return the favour, Katya kissed her like she meant it.

Bianca Del Rio, as it turned out, was actually a lot nicer than Alaska had originally thought. She was still terrified of her, but being in on the joke made it a lot easier to like her, and Katya’s friends slowly became her friends too. It was always uncomfortable when they were caught, though. Bianca stared like she wanted to kill them.

“I thought,” Bianca said, the voice echoing through the office and causing Alaska to pull away, glancing over. “I told you bitches to keep it in your pants. STDs aren’t cute, Alaska. You don’t know where Katya’s been.”

“I think I know where she’s been,” Alaska smirked, giggling when she turned back to see Katya blushing. “What’s up?”

“We’re going out for drinks on Thursday. I’ve been told I can invite you both, on the condition that you don’t make everyone else uncomfortable with your newfound and overbearing love,” Bianca said, staring up at Katya. “I’m sure you’ll see the text if you actually, y’know, look at your phone, dumb bitch.”

Alaska turned to reply, but Bianca was already gone. She was like a terrifying, anti-fun stepmother. Katya had moved back on her desk, swinging her legs a little awkwardly now Alaska had moved from between them.

“We aren’t that bad, are we?” Alaska asked, moving back and kissing her, completely ignoring what they had just been told and focusing on the comments on their supposed overbearing love. What the fuck did Bianca know about love?

“We’re fine. We are maybe a little bit disgusting, but that’s my gig. I’m 80% sexy, 20% disgusting.”

“I know. I’ve seen your search history,” Alaska deadpanned, and Katya laughed, shaking her head. Katya’s face changed entirely when she laughed, moving from the serious doctor to the med student that hadn’t quite yet been broken by capitalism, and Alaska loved it. Alaska thought that if she had seen Katya actually laugh in the past few months, she would’ve realised immediately, and everything would’ve happened a lot sooner. Katya’s eyes were like mirrors, and they showed everything she was thinking, including how they were entirely focused on Alaska, and hey, Alaska loved that too.

Alaska moved back to kiss her again, but stopped when she heard the door swing open again, expecting the worst. Instead, she heard Trixie groan, and said, “For god’s sake, do you guys never stop?”

Katya jutted her bottom lip out, looking over at her friend, and moved her hand to balance on the desk. Alaska thought it was sweet that Katya was shorter, even if she knew Katya was annoyed by it.

“Why do you hate me, Tracey? I don’t know why you won’t let me live my best life, you were the one who kept telling me to just ask her out,” Katya asked sadly, and Trixie rolled her eyes.

“You guys have to stop. You’re worse than Willam and Courtney, and they’re practically married,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why you’re so happy. All that’s changed is that you admitted that you both had feelings, and now Katya wears clothes that don’t look like they were bought from the children’s section at Target.”

“That’s some shady shade,” Alaska laughed, before leaning in, kissing Katya again and curling her fingers through the messy strands of hair beside her ear. Behind them, Trixie made a gagging sound, coughing very loudly.

“Katya, surgery. We have surgery in literally like, five minutes,” Trixie groaned, trying not to sound as angry as she was. “Hurry the fuck up or I’m going to set Bianca and Michelle on you. I’m not kidding.”

She didn’t hesitate to slam the door on her way out. Alaska, full of good ideas, pulled away and batted her stacked lashes at Katya. “I know what we can do in five -”

“I have to go,” Katya smiled, and got down from the desk, pushing her hair back out of her face. “If you want to continue that thought in about an hour, I’ll be wandering the halls looking for my sexy nurse girlfriend.”

“I head home in an hour,” Alaska frowned, defeat spreading across her face.

“I know,” Katya said.

“But… Uh, maybe if you call me, I can let you in. I don’t want to wake the Belli-Acts.”

“Lasky, you’re exhausted. You need to go to bed, and I’ll see you tomorrow. We can manage one night apart,” Katya smiled, and Alaska pouted even harder. She hadn’t even been that exhausted, the clinic just annoyed her, and she was probably about to get disgustingly sick with the little amount of free time she had. When she refused to kiss Katya goodbye, Katya sighed, and pursed her lips. “Maybe I could come over tonight. But no sex, because I refuse to be the reason you have to take another nap in the staffroom. Okay?”

“Sounds perfect… I should really just get you a key,” Alaska smiled, and walked off, adding, “See you tonight.”

The rest of her shift was finishing off the last of her work, and then heading home with a sense of accomplishment that she had managed to last the entire day without feeling awful. She tried to help Willam and Courtney cook, but when it went terribly wrong, Alaska ordered takeout and covered the leftovers in case Katya decided she was hungry when she came over. She watched TV, settling on The Method after scrolling through the options of Russian subtitled shows on their cable subscription, and then bed.

When she was asleep, three hours in, she felt warmth against her and the familiar curves of Katya pressing up against her and mumbling goodnight, kissing just below Alaska’s ear before wrapping her arms around her. Katya held onto Alaska like if she didn’t, then she would disappear, and it made Alaska feel more at home than any lover she had ever had.

She lay in the dark and drifted back to sleep to the sound of their breathing, ignoring the way her head spun, and thought that this was where she wanted to be.

#alaska thunderfuck #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #willam belli #courtney act #bianca del rio #katlaska #witney #hospital au #tw hospitals #comeapart #rpdr fanfiction #submission #saint in the city #lesbian au #smut

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