#like if you just randomly added a ch sound to the end of the word orb. LIKE IDK. it IS orbitch truly…

[orbch]

u have a literal pronunciation key on ur blog for the letters in your url and i can’t believe my brain still keeps calling u orb bitch

oh thats not a pronunciation key i was just spelling each letter phonetically (o = oh, r = ar, b = be, etc.) because i thought it was funny. orb-bitch IS actually how it’s pronounced lmfao

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.

FartsApp

Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.

For me at least.

While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.

Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.

Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we’re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.

Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.

Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).

During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.

That one, surreal night.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.

Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.

Yes: I know how lucky I am.

It’s been 4 months since he found out.

And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.

Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.

Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.

Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.

Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…

No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.

I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).

“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”

I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.

The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.

But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.

And he obviously didn’t.

He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.

I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.

Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:

Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”

Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”

Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”

Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!

Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.

One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…

Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”

Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”

Dave: ���I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”

Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”

Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.

Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.

Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”

Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”

Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?

Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”

Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”

Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.

Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).

I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.

It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.

Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.

I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.

I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).

Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”

Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?

Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.

And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.

Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.

Another couple of minutes passed.

Was he making another…?

Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”

Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?

I literally pitched a tent in my pants.

There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!

It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.

The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.

Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.

But I had to tell him.

Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”

But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.

Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”

Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…

Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”

Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”

Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”

Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.

He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.

After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.

I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.

Dave: “Tim… come here…”

I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.

Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.

Another fart, just as big as the first one.

He was on fire that day!

Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.

Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.

Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”

He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.

Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”

Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.

I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.

Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.

Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”

Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”

Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.

I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.

This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.

“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.

I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.

“Dave… what?”

It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.

“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”

“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”

I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.

Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.

“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”

“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”

“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”

“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”

And he hang up.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.

I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.

But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.

And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.

“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.

It was Dave. Again.

He sent another video.

I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.

He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.

“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”

Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.

“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!

“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.

“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.

My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.

My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.

And I couldn’t be happier.

End of Episode 1

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 6

your name.

You finally have a name for yourself, after so long you are Y/N. (AO3)

Words: 1,815

That afternoon you were woken up with a flick to the forehead. Slowly opening your eyes and allowing them to adjust to the bright scenery you found Levi looming over you. Before you could speak or sit up, he flicked your forehead again harshly.  

“Oi, brat. Wake up and eat...” He said with a bored tone. You frowned before groaning as you sat up. Your chest was sore, breathing was painful but you did find that you felt absolutely famished. Your muscles ached as you reached for the plate on your bed side table and began to eat hastily. Levi’s lips formed into a slight frown at the sight before him.  

“No manners.” He muttered to himself as he flipped through his reports. While you were asleep it seemed, Levi set up shop with you in the infirmary, a small table with a neat stack of forms sat a few feet away from you. Quill pens lay next to an ink well on one end, and on the other sat Levi’s favorite tea set. Levi’s eyes watched as yours scanned over his table and he cocked his brow at you.  

“Mind your business and eat.” He spat, before crossing one leg over the other. You huffed at him before taking a large bite out of your loaf of bread dramatically. The two of you rolling your eyes at each other.  

The silence drew on and as you finished your meal you sat awkwardly on your bed, not knowing what to do with your hands. Erwin hadn’t yet arrived with your new book and your old ones were nowhere to be found. Levi noticed this but decided against going to grab them for you from your old cellar.  

Silently he rose from his seat and poured you a cup of warm tea to ease your aching throat. The two of you sipped your teas in the continued silence before Hange came barging in to check on you.  

They felt your forehead, still a little warm but your fever was definitely dropping. After your routine checkup Hange asked if you were up for a bath to which you desperately agreed.  

“Well, Levi while I watch her in the bath can you change the sheets?” Hange asked with a shit eating grin, though it did little to mask their anxiety for asking Levi to do something like that. Levi frowned as he eyed the sheets over, knowing they were drenched in your sweat put him off.  

“No.” He replied dryly turning his body away from your bed as if to remove himself further away from your sick germs. Hange pouted before hatching a new idea for a solution.  

“If I switch the sheets, you’ll have to take her to the bath–”  

“Fine.” He said with an exasperated sigh, setting his tea cup down gently before slipping out of the door not waiting to see if you follow him or not. You groan and pout in Hange’s direction but do your best to catch up with Levi. Your body was feeling so heavy and weak you looked forward to the bath but not with Levi in the room.  

The partition will help to give you privacy but the dead silence will be nerve wracking. Your inner complaints fell silent when you found yourself walking past many of the scouts you recall seeing in the canteen and outside of the infirmary.  

The scouts gawked and moved out of Levi’s path as he walked on ahead but you slowed down to take the time to memorize their faces. They looked younger than you, well, everyone’s younger than you considering your past but that’s beside the point.  

You gave the young scouts a sheepish smile and a little wave before catching up with Levi. You gave the young boy with those large emerald eyes a curt nod before continuing on. He looked like he wanted to ask a million questions, and you hoped one day to be able to answer them.  

Levi addressed a tall man as he walked towards the baths, his name was Mike. The two men nodded at one another as they passed by and you gave him a small nod of your own. However, instead of returning that gesture the tall man hastily slapped his hand over his nose and backed away from you.  

Mortified, you gasped and wrapped your arms over your body as if to conceal your scent. Was it that bad, really? As if it couldn’t get any worse Levi saw the entire thing and a smug look was painted over his features, probably laughing at your expense. You whined to yourself before continuing to the bath and slipping inside.  

Levi shook his head trying and failing to conceal the smirk on his face.  

“Mike has a strong sense of smell.” He commented as you slid the partition in front of the tub with a frown ever present on your features. You sucked your teeth at the new information.  

“ Great, so I just broke his nose with my ick, ” you thought to yourself. Levi stood across the room with arms folded as you peaked back behind the partition and began to undress. You slid down into the steaming water and released a delighted sigh, allowing your weary muscles relax in the warmth. Any humiliation from you encounter with Mike melting away.

Hearing the splashing water die down Levi excused himself to quickly retrieve fresh clothes for you. He brought back an olive button down blouse, khaki slacks, and a pair of slippers. Swiftly he walked up to the chair next to your bath and dropped the neatly folded clothes onto its seat. You eyed him warily, sinking an inch deeper into the bath but Levi was a gentleman of course, he made no attempt at sneaking a peak at your body and you appreciated that. It was hard to imagine him as the perverted type anyway.

<3

Levi leaned his back against the wall of the washroom near the door, sighing before reluctantly breaking the silence.  

“You remember your name yet brat?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he waited impatiently for your attempted response. You hummed “no”, sounding a bit sad.  

“Troublesome...” He muttered under his breath but you caught what he said loud and clear. You huffed at his comment before reaching for the shampoo bottle and giving your scalp a scrub.  

You hummed delightedly, feeling refreshed and clean. Just as you were stepping out of the bath Levi ordered you to hurry, dress, and get back to the infirmary. Levi stepped into the hall where he was met with a scout pacing back and forth on the other side of the door impatiently waiting for someone to emerge.  

“What do you want brat?” Levi spat waiting for the young boy to explain himself.  

It was Eren Yeager, he had so many questions he’s been wanting to ask about you. Who you are and why you’re here? Just as he opened his mouth to ask as much you stepped into the hall, dressed in your new comfy clothes and drying your drenched hair on a fluffy towel.  

Eren’s eyes scanned between you and Captain Levi, mouth still agape before he finally spoke.  

“You’re a titan shifter?” He interrogated, staring a bit too hard at you. It was a little unnerving how eager he seemed for an answer, an answer you weren’t sure of yourself.  

Awkwardly you shrugged your shoulders looking between the two men.  

“Theres your answer brat, now get to cleaning in there.” Levi ordered shuffling between the two of you to leave towards the infirmary.  

“B-but–” Eren attempted to protest his new chores but he was quickly silenced with an irritated glance from the Captain. Eren deflated before stalking off into the wash room to tidy up to Levi’s high standards. You gave him an apologetic smile before following Levi back to your room.  

There you were met with Commander Erwin, he stood in the middle of the room flipping through a thick book, one you supposed was meant for you.  

“Oh, there you are!” He said with a bright smile handing over the book to you.  

“This is for you, pick whichever one you like most.” He nodded towards the text in your hands, while you looked at him questionably. That is, until you saw the context of the book. Names.  

It was a book filled entirely of names to pick from. Something in your chest twisted almost painfully, you hadn’t realized how heartbreaking it was to have forgotten your own name. However, finding a new identity for your new life felt a bit rewarding and poetic. Grinning with misty eyes you flipped through the pages enthusiastically.  

A knock sounded against the door but you ignored it as you continued to scan the pages with haste. Hange slipped inside and Levi caught them up on what was happening.  

“She's picking out a name...” He said with a bored tone, yet on the inside he was anticipating your choice. Hange gasped and clapped their hands together, excited to finally have a name to call you form here on out.  

You pointed out a name to Hange and watched as their expression soured.  

“I don’t know about Daisy for you...” they said hesitantly, a tentative smile on their face as they flipped to another page to divert your attention from Daisy. Levi’s own expression twisted at the sound of that one too, and Erwin chuckled giving a choice of his own.  

“Mildred?” This time you were the one frowning, shaking your head frantically before snorting a bit at that name. Levi shook his head before adding his suggestion.  

“How about the brat flips to a random page and the first name she finds we use that? Problem solved.” He added, feigning irritation and impatience. You gave him a small smile before taking him up on the offer.  

Closing your eyes, you flipped the pages at random before randomly stopping yourself and pointing at a spot on the page.  

Slowly you opened one eye to see where you landed, Hange leaned eagerly over your shoulder to get a glance themself.  

“Ooo~ I like this one!” Hange exclaimed giving you a playful nudge in the side. Erwin glanced at your finger on the page, his thick eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise.  

“Lucky pick! It’s lovely, do you like it?” He asked, his features softening at the dazed look on your face. You loved it, it felt perfect. You felt like this name was already yours. You nodded softly, unshed tears clouding your vision.  

Levi sauntered over and looked at the name on the page before giving a curt nod.  

“It’s not shitty.” He said plainly. You chuckled before smiling at the page once more.  

That’s when, in 107 years you uttered your first word. Voice soft and trembling.  

“Y/N.”  

[herotheshiro]

so i reread all of behind the desks today lol bc i was thinking abt it last night as i was going to sleep, and also fully read through the epilogue chapters which i don’t think i had done before. which means i read through all of the plot points all at once this time around. i think my thoughts for this readthrough might end up being the length of a regular post so i’m just writing up a new post instead of reblogging my old review of this manhwa. obviously spoilers for the story below the cut

again i like this manhwa mainly bc of 2 things:

i like the juxtaposition of young’s obviously manipulative language with taesung’s innocent language that also sounds suspiciously the same. obviously you know taesung has positive intentions and isn’t a controlling freak like young but it’s such an interesting way to depict the aftermath of an abusive relationship and the difference in intentions despite the same words even though in retrospect that probably wasn’t what the author was trying to do. unless... ?

sunny seo as a character!! on the surface he definitely seems to fall under the standard BL uke tropes of being clumsy and looking pretty and stuck in a love triangle as the shared obj of affection but from the very beginning you already know he’s not a pushover but he just seems like that bc he doesn’t really have or express strong opinions. a lot of BLs tend to have the shared obj of affection be like oh nooo i can’t pick bw the 2 of them... but i mean from the start sunny doesn’t want to be w young and his fear of backlash and change is what motivates his secret-keeping from taesung... also throughout the story they imply that he’s a good match for taesung who canonly likes action stuff by being someone who actually likes high-energy activities/vibes. tl;dr sunny is generally a good character who also has a lot of foreshadowing done for him to reveal aspects of his personality that contribute to the story

anyway onto my thoughts that i had during this specific readthrough

jaeyoon. anyone who read my prev review for this manhwa knows that i had beef w how they used him during the conclusion to young and sunny’s relationship. i now realize that maybe they DID actually give him a face reveal during his wedding when young and sunny split off to chat with a friend each and the friend who spoke to sunny was actually jaeyoon himself... BUT YOU GOTTA FUCKING SAY THAT!! i suspected they were the same guy bc of the hair color and them always hiding jaeyoon’s face until that “random” moment where they give this character who looks like him a face but like i was never sure... no offense to the author or anything but i think you have to put in-text that it’s jaeyoon and not assume readers will know based on your art that it’s him... there are too many side characters who show up so it’s not like we’ve ONLY seen taesung/sunny/young so far so now this 4th person who shows up has to be jaeyoon... i mean maybe other readers ID-ed it as him w no issue esp since he shows up being like ‘dude...’ when that other friend is like ‘well jaeyoon was in rehab and stuff’ but i personally think it should’ve been mentioned in-text esp since that face reveal wasn’t nearly dramatic enough to 100% capture readers’ attentions.

otherwise i think the fact that jaeyoon and taesung are similar is a great plot point. jaeyoon was clearly the only friend in that group who saw young and sunny’s relationship accurately so i’m glad sunny had at least one GOOD friend then. jaeyoon is implied to be someone who takes care of others similar to taesung (even if it’s only sunny he dotes over the most) too. other than young’s general possessiveness of sunny, them being similar also explains why young saw jaeyoon as such a threat. but yeah unfortunately i still don’t think it was handled as well as it could have been.

young’s explanation for his behavior towards sunny... i hesitate to say it was the standard “villain redemption” but tbf i think it was a good explanation for his actions even if it felt a little too clean of a conclusion (young letting go of sunny so easily and also apparently realizing and accepting how damaging he was to him). i say it’s partially redeeming bc it shows that young was kind of trapped in such a specific and damaging way of thinking abt life that it affected how he treated sunny but it’s also not really redeeming him bc like. be normal man lol you don’t have to be like that to others.

separate but related note but young’s mindgaming of taesung... when he was like oh everything abt sunny seo you like is bc of me... like DAMN that’s evil and good (writing-wise). although the thing is that young and sunny also haven’t interacted apparently for 5 years so i mean you do have to realize that by the time taesung reunites w him, sunny has developed enough of an individual personality so it’s not ALL young’s shit. 

in my last review i said i felt like i wanted more of young and sunny’s history... tbh i think they gave us enough actually. all we really need to know is that they’ve known each other for a very long time and that young manipulated sunny enough during an impressionable time (young age, college. ppl know how college can be lol) that sunny felt that young was the only one for him. i was actually surprised jaeyoon’s story/details came up so quick in the story (i think it showed up in the 1st half of the manhwa) but i think it was a good point bc the story had to move on to the middle/2nd half of sunny and taesung trying to get their relationship to work. past me was also apparently looking for this scene in the bar apparently where young explains his “reasons” to taesung lol

not really much to say this time abt the hosung x young endgame. still don’t think they should’ve done it or had hosung have unrequited feelings but whatever i guess. tbh i didn’t really realize/connect until this time around that hosung actually was in freelancing art/publishing which was why taesung had him look at sunny’s work lol... i think last time that part in the epilogue hadn’t been translated yet so i just didn’t have the room to make the connection maybs

the epilogue ending... so i actually never read the epilogue ending or at least its eng translation, and i was like hell yea at the full circle shit w sunny being like ‘oh the cherry blossom petals are falling just like when i first met taesung in the infirmary’ but then the ch kept going w taesung and sunny on the beach... idk i think ending it literally at sunny being like ‘w you i feel alive’ was such an abrupt ending... like maybe if they added another panel of them smiling at each other it could’ve been fine but if the author was running low on time i honestly think they could’ve ended it at the scene of sunny accepting his contest award

also when sunny was like ‘yeah lol all my classmates at the children’s book program also get sick all the time’.... i was like bruh this author is prob speaking from actual experience lmao

the other thing abt the ending that was a little random was the quick aside abt taesung’s mom being against their relationship... i mean it was a reference to the mom wanting taesung to get married in the main story but then they dropped it and then suddenly brought it back up again... randomly adding that taesung had a sister who was his contact w their mom... like i get it, it wraps up the loose end of his mom but wow i was uh ok random ch abt potential family conflicts. also where are sunny’s parents lol but that would’ve been too much to get into too regardless of homophobia or not lol

overall it’s still a pretty solid manhwa. stuff proceeds at a good pace and the conflicts/misunderstandings make sense. i said before it’s kinda like a love triangle but it’s really not which works w me bc i don’t like love triangles that much (they stress me out lol); it’s also good bc young is clearly toxic for sunny and it’s good that sunny knows that rather than sunny being like “oh i know he’s bad but also... hmm maybe i can overlook it”. the manhwa’s not perfect -- i still get the sense the writing could be better even if i can’t really enunciate why -- but enough details are tied together that there’s nothing major i have to extrapolate bw (like i can overlook the jooyeon mishap even though it legit threw me off the 1st time i read through). also yes i know the manhwa is based off of a game w characters essentially already established but my understanding is that the author/artist essentially had to write up a lot of the actual story themselves even if they had a general plotline provided to follow

also the final author’s note abt the author personally preferring fucked up stories... when i started rereading i was like wait isn’t this the same artist for that one manhwa where the characters look like the k!lling st@lking? mains and even if i didn’t remember i would’ve realized w that author’s note lol. i think fortunately for them that sunny isn’t an entirely “pure” character so they had enough room to make him a little more twisted.

[sad-af1121]

To Spice Things Up (One-shot)

Summary: You and Chris decide to spice things up in the bedroom but will Chris enjoy it as much as you? Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, toy usage (female receiving), light bondage, restriction, kinda rough sex, language, fluff A/N: I tried so hard not to make this just porn but oh well! Enjoy 😂 Feedback is welcomed 💜  thank you @one-big-dreamer ! *gif from google* 

“You sure about this?” Chris cocked his head to the side, a smirk threatening to appear on his face as he lifted the bondage rope that rested in the palm of his hands.

You shift, so you sit on your knees, humming in answer to his question. “I’m way too excited to back out of this now.” You playfully bit your lip, suppressing a giggle when you hear Chris growl at your words.

Ever since you told him you wanted to get fucked with your favorite dildo while tied up, Chris had been going crazy for weeks, asking where this thrill of an idea came from and if you were being serious.

You definitely were.

Your sex life was anything but plain or boring, frankly, it was filled with passion and love. Curiosity and the fact that you were horny had gotten the best of you one night when the idea randomly had emerged in your head. Well, not randomly- you wanted to be a little minx and see how Chris would react about it. He was lost for words, nonchalantly saying a small “ok” however, you knew he was going berserk.

You usually didn’t share crazy sex fantasies, but the idea and constant daydreaming of ‘what could’ refused to leave you alone, causing a warm tingly feeling in your stomach and weakness between the legs at night. You knew Chris was okay with you using a toy whenever you needed a quick release but he’d prefer you used him rather than something made out of silicone.

Today was the night that your fantasy will become a reality and the two of you were filled with excitement, nervousness, and anxiety, not knowing if this will turn out for the best. Or worst.

“Lie down for me, baby,” Chris said in a husky tone, licking his lips to the sight of your black lace panties and matching bra. You obliged, slowly lowering yourself on the mattress as the blood in your veins rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin at what was to come. Chris stood in front of you, shirtless and in his grey sweatpants, giving you the perfect sight of the outline of his cock. You bit the inside of your cheek from moaning, the anticipation killing you.

“Did you watch a video on how to do this?” You breathlessly said, yanking your thoughts away from the distraction. Chris simply chuckled, continuing to wrap the ropes around your thighs and legs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, making your nipples hard and pressing against the flimsy fabric of your bra.

Chris tore his eyes away from his work to look up at you. “Yeah, I did. Had to make sure I’m doing this right or I’d be in risk of hurting you and I don’t want that happening.”

Your eyes went soft to Chris’ efforts of making sure you were safe regardless of your fantasy and you admired that. You went to lift your hand to cup his jaw but then you remembered you were restricted. “Oops,” you laughed to yourself, shaking your head as you felt a pinch of embarrassment. Chris huffed out a laugh with you, leaning close by you to peck your lips.

“There, does that work?” He mocked, grabbing another rope and wrapping your arms with it.

“Wow,” Chris swallowed, stepping back as his eyes scanned your body. You were in a frog tie while laying on your back, your calves touching the back of your thighs and your hands and forearms tied together to restrict you from doing anything.

Inhaling deeply, you look down at yourself and the heat returned to your cheeks. But your brows furrowed, noticing you had forgotten to take off your undergarments because now they were impossible to take off unless Chris untied you. “Chris, I forgot to take off my panties…”

Chris was standing in front of the dresser with the dildo in hand as he turned around and walked back towards the bed. “Nah, I didn’t forget.” He toyed with a smirk, crawling on the bed until he faced your clothed cunt.

Your eyes widened at his demeanor, “Hold up Chr- ah fuck,” You moaned, throwing your head back whilst arching your back when you felt the pad of his middle finger rub your bundle of nerves, shooting electrifying pulses through your body. You were already sensitive from the build-up so the friction was the cherry on top, leaving you writhing and needy.

Chris groaned at the scent of your arousal, cupping his dick with his other hand to release some of the pressure, sensing his blood rushing to the head of his member. Your obscene sounds were driving him nuts already and he barely started. He could see your slick seeping through your panties, coating his fingers as he continued to rub your clit.

“Jesus babygirl. You’re already wet. I guess we won’t be needing the lube.” His toned dropped a few levels, sending a shiver down your spine as you rolled your hips, craving for more.

“K-keep doing that,” you incited, your mouth dropping open, the pleasure building and progressing. Desperate to play with your breasts, you tugged at the restraints but it didn’t budge, leaving you defeated and whimpering to get loose.

Chris chuckled darkly at your pathetic attempts, “Isn’t this what you wanted, huh? Of course it is, look how wet you are Y/N.” He grinned, licking his lips as he pulled your panties to the side, growling to the sight of your drenched cunt. Chris clenched his jaw, the hunger to eat your pussy surfaced and it only made matters worse. You happened to look down and gasped, noting how dark Chris’ eyes looked, not a tinge of green or blue but black. They were as dark as a room with no light, sinister and free of his gentle side.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, in fear that you were going to be paralyzed with sincere pleasure.

You cautiously watched as he took the purple dildo in hand and spread the lips of your cunt, slowly pushing in the tip. He wanted you to feel every second of the stretch, observing your jaw going slack and a moan following after. You tried pushing your hips closer to get more but Chris placed his hand on your thigh, stopping you from doing so.

“Please Chris,” You whimpered in a sultry tone, pouting your lips in hopes Chris would take it easy on you, however it was the opposite of that.

He wanted to enjoy, no, savor his time tormenting you, knowing you were loving every moment of it or else he wouldn’t see you come undone like this, a complete mess. Deciding not to waste any time, Chris pushed the entire dildo in your cunt till its base was flush against your pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You hissed, clenching your walls around the toy as your breathing became labored, your lungs struggling for oxygen but the lack of it was intoxicating to say the least, and you couldn’t be more thrilled and satisfied.

Chris pulled the toy out then carefully slammed it back in, continuing this motion as he listened to how wet you were. If only it were his cock instead of the toy, then he’d have his real fun with you. He can practically feel the pre-come on the tip of his cock, his balls pulsating to every moan and whimper that spills out your mouth.

“Look at you… didn’t know you’d look so pretty stuffed like this,” Chris whispered before sucking on his bottom lip. It was the only thing helping him from fucking you himself.

The restriction you were in prevented you from doing anything, especially from moving away from the violation your pussy was enduring. You took what Chris was giving you and you were drugged by it- overwhelmed with its immense pleasure that it left you light headed and yearning for more. You were digging the side of your cheek into a pillow as you tried to hold back your orgasm, not wanting the euphoria to go away.

Chris roughly grabbed your jaw, making you look at him as he growled, “Tell me when you’re about to come.” The command enough pushed you to your limits as you felt the familiar tingle sensation in your abdomen as it tightens, your walls starting to pulsate around the toy. And before you knew it, you reached your climax.

“Chris!” You screamed, releasing yourself around the toy but it was quickly pulled out for you to notice and replaced with Chris’ cock. He pumped his member animalistically, grabbing the ropes around your forearms as leverage to fuck you nice and hard. He allowed his hips to rhythmically move in a pace that had you gasping for air, forgetting that you just orgasmed.

“Fuck, baby. That feels so good. So damn good,” you cried with a groan, biting your lower lip as the sensitivity worsened by the second.  

Moan after moan was music to Chris’ ears, but his cock had been getting the bad end of it, desiring for some kind of release so he couldn’t help himself. Not when you were like this in front of him. How could he not enjoy this like you were. “That's it babygirl. Tell me how much you love my cock in your pussy. I think it’s a perfect fit, wouldn’t you say?” He mocked, gritting his teeth as he could feel you clench around him, causing his jaw to go slack. “I love it when I can feel you squeeze around me,” he admitted, thrusting.

You were beginning to see stars and weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold on for much longer. You knew what he was trying to get you to say, but you refused to say it, not wanting to give in that easily. “At least the toy made me come quicker,” you sassed, earning a glare from Chris.

But he let those words fly over his head as he leaned down and kissed you hard. It was heated and messy yet empowering. The friction from his beard added to how his touches left you needing for more- unable to pull away because it left a fire deep inside you, a fire of passion and love.

You pulled away for air as Chris continued to kiss your jaw then down your neck, greedy to get every inch of you. And with a few more thrusts, Chris aimed for your g spot repeatedly which threw you over the edge. Chris quickly followed behind, not being able to handle how tight your pussy wrapped around his cock- white ribbons of semen spilling and coating your walls.

In all your years of having sex, you hadn’t come so hard and you assume you could say the same for Chris. He groaned as the last jerks of come spill out before he went slack against you, making sure not to put all his weight on top of you.

Once your orgasm subsided, you softly kissed the side of Chris’ sweaty head to see if he was alright in which he hummed as a sign he was good. You whimpered when he tried to move, your pussy quivering due to its severe sensitivity. Chris carefully leaned up on his forearms on either side of you as he looked down with a smirk. “I never thought a toy would lead me to have the most amazing sex ever.” He chuckled, pushing the strands of hair that were glued to your forehead away from your face.

You watched him with hooded eyes, a smirk spreading across your face, “I’m glad you’re turning sides now,” you hummed.

“Baby, you’re forgetting who was doing the real work now,” he reminded, quirking a brow before leaning down to place a gentle, sweet kiss on your head. You playfully rolled your eyes and giggled.

“Get me out of these ropes so I can love you properly.”

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[qveensbury]

ch 5: wouldn’t it be nice

summary: another movie night + pining + fluff. a college au iwaizumi x reader fic.

AO3  | just a little oh a little bit | ko-fi

[iwaizumi: are you coming to movie night?]

[you: yes]

[iwaizumi: good]

“What are you smiling about?”

You found Kaede and Noa staring at you.

“Nothing,” you put your phone away.

“I hope you’re not one of those girls who forgets her friends while she’s dating.” Noa crossed her arms.

Heat climbed over your face. “It’s not like that.”

“Yet,” Kaede added.

“Hey!”

“C’mon, ____. You like him,” Noa made an arc with her finger.

You shushed her, “Cut it out.”

“Are you going to confess?” She looked at you.

“We’re not high schoolers. We’re adults.”

“So, what adults don’t confess? They just magically end up in relationships?” Kaede pressed.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Can’t it all happen on my terms?”

Kaede smiled while Noa shook her head ‘no.’

“As long as you do something.”

The three of you got off the bus near Matsukawa’s apartment and walked the rest of the way.

“Did you invite Sawamura, Kaede?“

“He said he’s got an exam he needs to study for.” She shivered, “It’s so cold.”

“And it’ll only get colder!” Noa mock shouted.

You were happy your friends moved on from the topic of you and Iwaizumi.

You did like him.

You texted him fairly regularly. And saw him after games.

He was starting to be real. Not your version of Iwaizumi: the stoic wing spiker on the men’s volleyball team. He was gaining more dimension the more you got to know him.

You liked him. And it thrilled and terrified you. This wasn’t a high school crush. This was taking shape. It was building walls.

You liked him.

His smile.

How safe you felt when he stood next to you.

His voice.

The way he said your name.

His determination.

All of that didn’t really matter if he didn’t like you back.

“Welcome ladies!” Oikawa opened the door for you.

“Oikawa, let the girls in.”

“Yea, move!” Noa shouldered her way in.

Holding his chest where Noa struck him, Oikawa moved aside so you and Kaede could enter the apartment.

Your heart picked up a little speed when you saw Iwaizumi.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He looked over you. “Hey, Miki.”

“Hello, Iwaizumi-kun.”

“Mikichi!”

Kaede put her hands on her hips. “Matsukawa we’ve been in the same city for months and you never tried to see me. Don’t ‘Mikichi’ me,” she scolded in contrast to the smile on her face. “You are so tall! Matsukawa!”

“How are you the same height?”

“Shut up! Don’t make me headbutt you.”

Matsukawa laughed and Kaede snorted before joining him. The lack of explanation led you to conclude it was an inside joke.

Throwing an arm around her shoulders, Matsukawa led Kaede into the apartment.

Oikawa ruffled your hair before following them.

The silence sprung up, delicately like foam taking its shape.

“So, is it just the four of you and the three of us?”  

“Yea. Matsun is busy with exams so it’s just a Ghibli movie he likes.”

You hummed. “Sounds like fun.”

“Matsun has seen them all a million times.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “He’d recite lines randomly and it was so confusing at first.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

You smirked. “No way.”

“He’ll probably quote the movie as its playing.”

Giggles rose in response to the mental image.

“I was gonna grab the drinks I brought if you want to bring your snacks.”

You looked at the bag in your hand. “Sure.”

The hallway wasn’t truly big enough for both of you to walk side by side. But Iwaizumi slowed down for you. You shoulder kept brushing his arm.

“Isn’t it weird we’re almost done with our first semester?”

“Yea.” Iwaizumi gestured for you to enter the kitchen first.

“Do you think you’re gonna stay in the engineering department?” You took off your coat and put it on one of the chairs.

“Hmm,” Iwaizumi pulled down cups for the drinks. “We’ll see after this semester’s grades. It wouldn’t be too hard to transfer over and graduate on time.”

“Good luck! I know you can do it.”

He smiled. “Do you know what you’ll major in?“

“I was thinking of art history. I have a professor who could help me get museum internships.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“It is.”

“Hey, um, ____.”

“Yea?”

“Do you two need help bringing snacks?” Kaede asked.

“Hmm, what do you think Iwaizumi?”

“That would be helpful. Here Miki.”

She accepted the cups. “Got it. I still can’t believe you know Matsukawa. It’s so nice to see my friends in one place. Oh! ____, we should host something next semester.”

“Yea! That sounds great.”

Kaede nodded as she left the kitchen.

Iwaizumi opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles. “Lead the way,” he gestured for you to go, not meeting your eyes.

Everyone congregated around the kotatsu. You and Iwaizumi added your contributions to the snacks assembled.

Accepting the can from Noa, you glanced at the open loveseat and took a step towards it. Your eyes jumped back to Iwaizumi who was listening to Oikawa.

There was the option of asking him to sit next to you. Or, sitting next to Kaede or Noa.

But sitting next to Iwaizumi would be your first choice.

You sat on it.

All you had to do now was make eye contact. So, you glanced at him from time to time, alternating between looking at him and your cell phone.

From across the room, you finally caught his eyes. The warm expression on his face was different, new.

You could barely keep the smile off your face.

He inclined his head to this left (your right) in the direction of the empty seat next to you.

You nodded, placing a hand on the cushion.

He smiled, walking over to sit next to you and taking a seat after you moved your hand.

The opening notes of the score cut through what little conversation was left.

“Enough. Time for film.” Matsukawa put the remote on the TV stand before taking a seat next to Hanamaki.

Spirited Away was a movie you’d seen before, released when you were in elementary school. It still was just as magical for you as an adult.

When Chihiro bathed the river spirit, your mind began to wander. It seemed like Iwaizumi had something he wanted to say to you in the kitchen.

I wonder what it was.  You placed your hand on the cushion.

Iwaizumi’s hand brushed yours.

Your first instinct was to bring your hand back to your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Iwaizumi jolt, crossing his arms.

Wait.

Was he trying to hold your hand?

Because that would be…

You took a deep breath.

 Why do I keep screwing things up?

Your shoulders fell. The condensation on your drink followed your finger as you drew abstract shapes on your drink.

I would really like to hold Iwaizumi’s hand. You twisted your mouth.

Chihiro mustered her courage to climb a long stairway.

 What if he thinks I don’t want to hold his hand?

You put your hand back where it was and sent signals hoping he’d understand.

Time weaved between the scenes. You tried to be as still as possible.

 What if Iwaizumi wasn’t trying to hold your hand?

A weight settled in the pit of your stomach. Slowly, you brought your hand back into your lap before wrapping it around your drink. The fizz from your soda gave you a small distraction from the dread washing over you.

“Once you meet someone you never really forget them.”

The dialogue from the movie parroted Matsukawa.

“Ugh, Mattsun! Please,” Oikawa whined.

You giggled.

Iwaizumi gently bumped his shoulder against yours. Returning the touch, you pressed back against him.

Before you could stop yourself, you glanced at him and saw he was smiling. The light from the screen giving off a little light.

It would be better if Iwaizumi liked you back but these moments were worth cherishing regardless.

Dropping your shoulders, you settled back into the chair. Your hand settled beside you.

You were starting to tug on one of the couch’s loose strings when Iwaizumi’s hand landed on yours.

Fire crept up your cheeks.

You turned your hand—

He pulled back.

—over to hold his hand properly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You smiled.

His thumb brushed your palm.

Tingles shot up your arm.

You squeezed his hand trying to focus on the movie.

You took a big inhale and then a drink to hide your smile.

Chihiro was getting in the car.

The movie was almost over.

Oh.

Pressing your back into the couch, you sighed.

Iwaizumi bumped his shoulder into yours.

You scrunched your shoulders up. Couldn’t the movie last longer? You rested your head against him for a moment.

He squeezed your hand.

Glancing at him, you pouted.

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Oikawa asked.

Someone turned the light on.

You both released each other’s hands.

The pattering of your heart vibrated through your arm and your arm shook as you tried to casually take a drink.

“You couldn’t finish that in an hour and a half?” Noa raised an eyebrow.

You raised an eyebrow back at her. You held the can with both hands to stabilize it.

Kaede materialized with a trash bag. “Clean up!”

Iwaizumi stood up to help and you followed him with your eyes over your can.

 When did they finish the snacks?

Finishing your drink, you stood up to help clean. “I don’t remember the last time I watched Spirited Away.”

“It helps me with exam stress,” Matsukawa replied.

Hanamaki hissed, “Don’t say that word? We’re in a state of post-Ghibli bliss.”

“How are you all getting home? It’s kinda late,” Matsukawa asked Kaede.

“The bus. Noa is sleeping over so we should be fine.” Kaede fastened the bag in her hands. “I think that’s everything.”

“Leave the bag you should head out.”

Noa pulled up the public transportation app. “We have just enough time to walk to the bus stop.”

“Lemme walk you guys to the stop.” Iwaizumi looked from you to Kaede.

“As long as you don’t slow us down,” Noa threw over her shoulder.

You retrieved your coat form the kitchen before meeting everyone by the entrance.

“Wow Iwaizumi, so chivalrous~,” Oikawa said.

“We should go. Thanks, Matsun!” Noa opened the door.

“Good night.”

The call and response circled the small hallway.

Noa led the way descending the stairs followed by Kaede, you, and Iwaizumi. Kaede walked in step with Noa.

“You don’t have to double-check that we’re going in the right direction. Doesn’t any of this look familiar?”

“Not at all.”

“Geez, Kaede. What would you do without modern technology?”

You giggled. Sifting for something to say to Iwaizumi. The desert of your mind was proving not to be fruitful.

Something brushed the back of your hand and you stilled. You turned to Iwaizumi.

He extended his hand to you.

And, you placed your hand in his.

The second time was just as nice as the first.

You wouldn’t mind getting lost to the bus stop.

A/N: title from Wouldn’t It Be Nice by the Beach Boys. alt. title: Your Hand in My Hand So Still and Discrete

[astarlightmonbebe]

__April Showers

You fell for Choi Hyunsuk in April, head over heels in love, only to lose him as soon as the showers ended.

Pairing: Choi Hyunsuk x female reader 

Word Count: 4,293

Featuring: Byunggon, Jihoon, Junkyu, Keita, and Yoshinori

Warnings: Some a-n-g-s-t

A/N: Hi, hello, I wrote this in the last four-ish hours instead of working on my other drafts. Obviously, this ended up being a whole 4k mess of words, so read at your own risk. Also, the ‘...’ indicate section end/scene change since sometimes the dividers don’t work. Sorry for any mistakes!!!

You fell for Hyunsuk in the beginning of April, when the air was thick with the incoming rain, everything humid. When fate had brought you to a small cafe as it had begun to sprinkle, a cafe that nobody ever visited, occupied by the one lone barista and customer, back to you and newspaper in front of him.

You remembered staring at his back as your ordered, the dark tips of his dyed blonde hair and the curve of his shoulder, swaying silver earrings. The kind of profile you wanted to draw with thin charcoal, outline in dark ink with a splash of glitter gel pen for his jewelry. You stared for so long that he eventually looked back, eyes connecting, hint of a smile.

“Sit with me.” He had called, and you had taken your drink and sat across from him without a second thought. He was your age; straight out of high school but not yet on his way to college, and so tiny you could fit him in your palm, like a little fairy with a hero’s face. “You’re a new face.” He had said, that same smile flitting across his face.

“I’ve never been here before.” You explained, sipping on your drink. He nodded, and you noticed the open notebook in front of him, the music notes doodled thoughtlessly across the margins. “Do you compose?” You asked, lifting your chin at the notebook. He moved his hand over the page, biting his lip.

“A little. Do you draw?” He motioned to the spirals of your sketchbook sticking out of your haphazardly thrown together bag. Blushing, you nodded. He grinned. “Draw me?” He asked, cupping his chin in his palm. You laughed, shook your head; though it was more of the sense that you never drew anyone, not that you didn’t want to draw him.

“Here, how about this.” He had said, reaching forward to tap the top of your sketchbook. “You draw me and I’ll write you a song.” You looked at him, dumbfounded, but he only smiled that blinding smile, all white teeth and lips. It was the type of smile that made you fall at first glance, head over heels in dangerous love with a boy you had just met.

“My name is Hyunsuk.” He, Hyunsuk, said. It was a name that fit him so perfectly, fit his raggedy black hoodie and flashy new sports shoes. His hand was small, thin gold bands tracing up his fingers, inlaid with jewels that were almost certainly fake, but nonetheless pretty. You stared at his outstretched hand, soft and warm.

“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself shyly, shaking that warm hand. His skin smelled like flowers, violet rose. It made you think of petals blossoming in the winter, unfurling against white snow, ice dripping down in a messy aesthetic of sharp color. “And deal.” You added, taking out your sketchbook and one of your drawing pencils, the ones without an eraser so that you only drew and never stopped.

Hyunsuk smiled, biting his bottom lip, and it made your heart beat faster. You watched him bend his head, look down at his paper, already concentrating. Only moments ago you had been imagining tracing his profile on blank paper; now you were in control of the picture, a smudgy nose and soft eyes, messy hair falling in all the wrong directions over his eyes.

The two of you sat in silence as your drinks got cold, focused on each other and the art in front of you. Your sketch of Hyunsuk became a portrait, black and white shading and strokes, while Hyunsuk’s doodles became a song, the blank page filling up with notes over crooked lines and scribbled words.

Hours passed, and then the cafe was closing, and you and Hyunsuk were standing under the awning as it poured. The air was fresh and electric, ozone in the air, and Hyunsuk laughed, rain tangling in his bangs as he ripped out the song, folding it and handing it to you. You took it hesitantly, feeling flushed all over.

“You can keep the drawing. I had enough enjoyment watching you.” Hyunsuk said, waving and then looking up at the sky, thinking. He pulled his hood up, tucking his earbuds in and his phone away, and then dashed across the street. You watched him go in shock, the paper crinkling in your hand as you watched him disappear into the hazy gray night.

When you looked at the song, you saw he had written a number at the bottom, along with the words ‘call me-chs’.

...

You told yourself you wouldn’t call him, but you ended up dialing the number the next night, when the emptiness of your apartment stretched out a little too long. Silence was a lonely companion to have, your fingers tracing over the music notes, wishing you had a voice to sing the tune to you.

“Hello?” His raspy voice asked as soon as he picked up, and you smiled. “Hey, this is y/n. We met the other night, remember?” There was a beat of silence, long enough to make you feel nervous, hand curling around the frayed denim of your cutoff jeans.

“Of course.” Hyunsuk said sweetly. “How could I forgot such a beautiful artist such as yourself?” Warmth bloomed in your chest at the fact that he had called you an artist, not just a pretty human. It made you feel more like you were worth something, more than just your face or your curves.

“Ah, well, the problem is that you gave me a song but no way to sing it.” You admitted shyly. “I can’t sing to save my life.” Hyunsuk mmm-hmmed on the other end of the line, and you heard crackling static, voices mixing away from the call. You wondered if he was with other people.

A moment later he was back. “Hey, wanna go someplace with me?” He asked. “I can pick you up, if you like.” The you you knew didn’t jump into situations randomly, didn’t fall for strangers like a girl tripping on a dress. So why were you nodding, agreeing, falling for this stranger with a smile that would probably break your heart?

“Cool, I’ll text you my street.” You murmured into the receiver, hanging up before you could regret it. You’d wait at the corner, you decided, standing up and surveying yourself in the mirror. Faded and ripped jeans, a loose white shirt, and bare feet. Appropriate attire for a day at home, but you had no idea what this place Hyunsuk was taking you to held.

Moving to your room, you threw on a loose purple blouse and a pair of white shorts, as well as your knee length black socks and chunky white tennis shoes. A little mismatched, a little unordinary, but perfectly you. An artsy, paint stained mess of a girl with hair that was cut a little choppy, unruly bangs, but enough of a look to make you feel kind of cute.

You jogged back out of the room, grabbing your purse—which contained keys to a car you hardly used, your phone, and other essential items—and ran out of your apartment. You felt like you had been electrified, thinking of Hyunsuk running his hands through his blond hair, his rakish smile. Was this what people talked about when they said they fell head over heels in love at first sight? Maybe it wasn’t that bad of a feeling after all.

Hyunsuk pulled up five minutes after you had stationed yourself at the streetlamp on the corner, watching the dimming sunlight. The whir of his motorcycle broke the still air, and your hair fluttered in the breeze as he skated to a stop inches from where you stood. Pushing up his visor, he leaned forward, hands covered with leather biking gloves.

“You look nice.” He said, passing you the other helmet. You fitted it over your head, tugging the straps down and trying to fasten it with your clumsy fingers. Hyunsuk laughed, and it sounded like sunshine and late nights and too many stars to count. “Come here.” He said, motioning you forward. Reaching up, he did the clasp for you, hands brushing the bare skin of your chin. You shivered, not used to contact with others.

“Hold on tight.” He told you as you swung your leg over the back, cautiously wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You asked, your voice coming out strangely teasing and playful. Hyunsuk laughed and shook his head, eyes in half moons when he did.

“No, it’s a secret.” He said, kicking back. “Besides, I want to make our first date have an air of mystery.” You sat back, hands pulling tight around his waist, and the smile faded off of Hyunsuk’s face. “Why, did I say something wrong?” He asked carefully. “Do you not want me to call this our first date? Did I misread the situation?”

You shook your head, knowing that the helmet didn’t hide how red your cheeks were. “No, I’ve just never really dated before—but I do want this to be our first date! I mean, I’m willing to give it a try...I mean…” You trailed off, hiding your face in his back so you wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Okay.” Hyunsuk said, starting the motorcycle up with a roar that shook you. “First date it is, then.”

...

The place Hyunsuk took you looked inconspicuous, a small graffitied entrance to a beat down club. He led you in the entrance, hand loosely holding yours, and you looked around in puzzlement as it opened up into a spacious room. Music was pounding, the lighting a soft pastel, fairy lights strung up. There weren’t many people, but the ones there were obviously enjoying themselves.

“What is this place?” You asked in awe, looking around with your mouth hanging open. Hyunsuk only let out another bright laugh, leading you to a round table in the back, near where the DJ was blasting music. He waved upwards, and the DJ waved back, headphones slipped around his neck.

“This is where I make the magic happen.” Hyunsuk said, letting go of you to spread his arms out, like an announcer. “You said you wanted to hear me sing you the song. I admit I can’t really sing—rapping is more my thing—but I’ll try my best for you, darling. He pulled out a chair at the table, motioning for you to sit down. Four other boys were looking at you, wide eyed and curious.

“Y/n, meet Jihoon, Junkyu, Yoshinori, and Keita. The angsty looking DJ up there is Byunggon.” You nodded timidly, shaking hands quickly with each one of them—except for Byunggon, who was obviously preoccupied. “Now, guys, take good care of her. I have a song to sing and a deal to fulfill.” Hyunsuk said, winking at you as he moved away as quickly as he had come.

“Ah, another girl who fell for him.” Junkyu said, giving you a wide smile. Though you were unsure of what he meant, you offered a thin smile anyways, trying to hide how uncomfortable you were. No matter how kind they were, you still didn’t enjoy meeting new people. Except for Hyunsuk, it seemed.

“She’s already head over heels.” Jihoon tsked, and you slunk down in your seat. Keita hit him. “Dude. I think it’s for real this time.” Jihoon scoffed, and you swallowed, deciding to not pay attention anymore.

There was the sound of a screeching mic, and then the music cut off abruptly. “Hey guys, sorry to interrupt your dance time, but I have a special song to sing tonight.” Hyunsuk said, the mic squealing with feedback painfully. He grimaced, leaning away and adjusting it slightly. You watched him, transfixed.

The lights faded out, darkness surrounding you, and you stared at the stage, the pool of light making Hyunsuk’s edges glow. He took the microphone from the stand, standing back a few paces, and started to sing, the very notes of the song you had written playing over the speakers. You wondered if he’d planned this just now, or had it planned already.

Hyunsuk was right; he wasn’t the best at singing, but his rap was amazing. You closed your eyes, taking in the sound of his husky, slow, sweet voice, like a soothing balm. It felt perfect to you, like a voice that would whisper ‘i love you’ in your ear, read stories aloud at night, play the radio and sing along under his breath.

When he finished, you opened your eyes, a smile spreading across your face. The other boys faded away, and you were only watching Hyunsuk hop off the stage, in his ripped jeans and silky jacket. He waved at you, running over to the table with an expectant look on his face. You slow clapped in his face, unable to keep a silly grin off your face.

“You were too much for words to express.” You said, standing so you were face to face. Hyunsuk practically beamed, grabbing your hands and giving you a quick spin. A chorus of ‘oohhs’ rose from the table as Hyunsuk dragged you down to the dance floor, spinning you out in a twirl.

You let out a loud laugh, feeling something unfurling in your heart, like you were letting go of a ten pound weight that had been holding you down. Your feet felt light as you spun back against him, the floor a moving pattern of squares all lost in a blur of color beneath you. Hyunsuk’s eyes were dark and captivating, and you let yourself spiral into them, dark pools of water with tiny crescent slivers of light.

Through his shirt, you felt the beating of his heart, slamming against his ribcage like a bird threatening to break free. Or maybe that was your own heart—maybe it was both your hearts, beating erratically together. Or maybe you two were sharing a heart now, a wild heart that beat for each other only.

“I’d write a million more songs for you, if I could.” Hyunsuk murmured in your ear, his voice exactly like you had imagined, and you smiled against him, feeling safe for once in your life. “What do you say you give me a chance to do so?” He added, pushing your hair back from your face.

You liked the sound of that.

...

Hyunsuk kissed you on the dance floor, hands cupping your face, bodies pressed together as everyone else revolved around you, a slow burn of emotion. It was perfect.

...

“What would you think of putting your artwork in this gallery?” Hyunsuk asked, holding the magazine up to you. It was a lazy day in late July, and you were sitting in your living room, Hyunsuk’s head in your lap was you both paged through various newspapers and magazines. The late afternoon sunlight was spilling in like honey, criss crossing his face. His hair dye was fading out, a messy patchwork of brown and wheat.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” You hummed, taking it from him and reading through it. “It sounds really hard to get into.” Hyunsuk smiled up at you, warmer than the sun itself, your one beacon of light.

“I think you could do it.” He murmured, pulling you down to kiss him. You ran your fingers through his short hair, feeling the cold metal of his earrings press against you. “Remember the girl who boldly demanded I sing a song for her? Channel that girl and go submit that artwork I know you’re hiding.” He let go, voice teasing.

You blushed. “I didn’t demand you do anything.” Hyunsuk quirked one eyebrow.

“That’s not how I remember it.” You hit him lightly, mood already passing, the entry in front of you seemingly full of possibilities. Hyunsuk was your magic, your inspiration. You had a sketchbook full of pictures of him; in charcoal and pencil, paint and oil, watercolor and crayons. You could fill a million more, all of him, his face and his hands and his necklaces and his jackets and his lips.

“I’ll give it a try.” You finally said, and the smile Hyunsuk gave you was reward enough.

...

For your six month anniversary, Hyunsuk took you for a ride on the highway. You rode with your arms firmly around his waist, watching the lights whip past, that feeling of being able to go anywhere. You fit into Hyunsuk’s shoulder now, head tucked there, feeling the sharp edge of his collarbone.

Hyunsuk pulled off the highway, coasting to a stop in front of the ocean. You hopped off excitedly, peering over the railing and smelling the salt on the wind. “How did you know I’ve always wanted to visit the ocean?” You asked excitedly, hooking your feet around the bottom and leaning out.

“Careful there.” Hyunsuk said, pulling you back. “Come on, let’s go down.” He jumped over the railing, slipping and sliding down the coast. You followed suit—though more carefully than him—and landed in the sand. It was cool when you steadied yourself, the sun having long left it.

Hyunsuk had moved down to the waves, leaving his shoes behind as he waded in. You hurriedly falling in, sucking in deep breathes, trying to keep some of the scent with you. Growing up you hadn’t been close to an ocean, and you’re one taste of the beach had been enough to leave you hungry for more. One of your dreams was a beach house, summers spent with golden sand and salty waves, surfing and swimming and floating.

“It’s cold!” You shrieked, dancing on tiptoes over the frothy tide. Hyunsuk pulled you in tight, arms interlocked. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, and you pressed yourself against the warmth of his body. He was staring out across the waves, and you followed his gaze, over the endless ocean.

“Something on your mind?” You asked, wrapping your arms around him and leaning in close. Hyunsuk smiled lightly, shifting in the slightest, his expression more distant than it had been in a while.

“No, nothing.” He said, and then he splashed water all over you, scooping up a handful and flinging it in a shower. You screamed, stumbling back and slipping. Hyunsuk’s eyes widened comically as you grabbed onto him, silencing him mid laugh as you both toppled backwards, water enveloping you.

You surfaced, bodies tangled together underwater, your faces so close to each other that you could make out every feature of Hyunsuk’s face clearly. He studied you, pushing wet hair back. “I love you so much.” He mumbled, kissing you, and you melted into it—into him—and everything was right again, because he was yours, and you were his.

...

Christmas was cold and loud, you in the center of all of Hyunsuk’s friends, gifts passed around and wrapping paper floating through the air. Hyunsuk had a ribbon tied around his wrist, a bow stuck on his head, and you pulled him close, giggling.

“What, are you my gift?” You teased, kissing his nose, and Hyunsuk laughed, adjusting the bow. His eyes said; I’ve always been yours, but the room was too loud for him to actually say something to you.

“Ugh, the two lovebirds are still going strong.” Jihoon said, wrinkling his nose, and the room faded into uproarious laughter, Hyunsuk throwing his gift at Jihoon, who barely caught it, doubled over at something that wasn’t even funny. Everyone was laughing, and you were laughing too, so much your sides hurt.

Something about Hyunsuk made you so happy it was painful, knowing that this happiness was only yours while it lasted. Still, you let yourself be taken over by this instantaneous joy, this feeling of being full of everything someone needed. Love and friendship and family, Hyunsuk’s hand in yours and his million dollar smile, his voice and the way your bodies fit together, like each curve had been made for the other’s. Two puzzle pieces, finally finding each other.

“You have a pensive look on your face again.” Hyunsuk observed, leaning forward to gently brush wrapping paper out of your hair. You were sure there was even more still stuck there, tape too probably. Junkyu had thrown a whole gift at you, and it had gone everywhere. You smiled at him, grabbing his hands gently.

“I’m just thinking that I’m so happy that I have you, that I have this.” You confessed with a soft smile. Hyunsuk didn’t smile, a vaguely sad expression crossing his face. “And I hope I have you forever.” You added with a whisper, trying to hold back years. “Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh, y/n.” Hyunsuk exhaled, chin wobbling and tears glittering in his eyes. He pulled you in tight, hand on the back of your head. Face buried in the fabric of his shirt, you let tears slip free, wetting it. You felt Hyunsuk’s shaking shoulders, your own shirt damp as well, and clutched him tighter.

Please, never let me lose him.

...

Hyunsuk and you were never perfect. You fought about music and art and politics and what it meant to be in love. You fought about boundaries and limits, about the time Hyunsuk kissed another girl when he was drunk. You fought about getting drunk and going to college and futures that weren’t quite as mapped out as Hyunsuk made them see.

Hyunsuk wasn’t perfect, and neither were you, but your imperfect relationship was working out fine. It was fine, because you had confessed your heart to him, and he had given yours back.

...

One day, you opened the door to the apartment you now shared, and found it empty. Hyunsuk’s stuff was still strewn all over the place, opened notebooks and uncapped pens. Everything was there except for Hyunsuk and his motorcycle—it was your one year anniversary, and he had told you to come home, because he had another one of his spontaneous plans thrown together.

You called him, listened to the empty ringing, and wondered when he was getting home.

...

You waited, and waited, and waited. You called his friends, only to be met with answers that weren’t quite right, Junkyu stumbling over his words in a way that made you wonder if Hyunsuk was kissing another girl again, had his arms wrapped around some other stranger on the dance floor.

...

You called him again and again, but got tired of listened to the repetitive rings. Finally, you threw your phone across the room and slumped against the wall, burying your face into your knees, a curled up ball of pain.

...

Jihoon called you.

...

It was raining, but you ran anyways, slipping and sliding across the ground, tripping and ripping your jeans open, blood dripping down from your cut knees. You ran and ran, drenched and trembling in the emergency room, gasping sobs as you scanned every room for Hyunsuk, Hyunsuk, Hyunsuk.

When you found him, all you could see was red at first, then Jihoon standing at the foot of the bed, hands white and gripping the rails, face twisted into an expression of grief. “Y/n.” He said, and you knew, but you didn’t, you couldn’t.

Please, I asked you to never let me lose him.

“You’re lying.” You were screaming, your voice a crescendo of wavering notes, even though Jihoon hadn’t said anything more than your name. “No no no, you’re lying to me. Hyunsuk...Hyunsuk’s still here. He’s just hurt, right? You’re lying. He’s fine. He’s fine. He has to be fine—!”

You screamed, sinking to the ground, hearing the flatline on a monotone. There was nobody to grab your shoulders, shake you, hold you, because that was what Hyunsuk would have done. He would have hugged you and sung a song in your ear until you could breathe again.

Now all you could hear in your ears was a dull ringing, a repetitive pulsing of red lines behind your eyelids. You couldn’t breathe. Where was Hyunsuk to tell you to breathe? Who was supposed to help you catch your breath when he wasn’t here; when he was the one who was causing you to suffocate?

Your voice was raw, but you screamed on—though maybe you weren’t even making any noise anymore, maybe you had used it all up, maybe your voice had left when Hyunsuk did.

Hyunsuk.

...

“He wrote a song for you.” The funeral was dark and dreary, and you felt like you could barely stand, a swaying shadow on her feet, in the back of the crowd. They had asked you to make a speech. You had walked up to the podium and stared at the mic, remembered Hyunsuk singing to you the second day you had met.

Your voice was still gone. When you opened your mouth, nothing came out. No more ragged sobs, stuttered cries. Your eyes were dry now, too. It was like Hyunsuk leaving had sucked everything he had given back to you away. No more heart, no more soul, no more art, no more smiles.

No more magic.

...

In the darkness of your apartment, you listened to Hyunsuk’s last song, his familiar voice filling your ears. His one year gift to you, his surprise. The studio he had been coming back from, the one where he had finished recording. A story you had found out in bits and pieces, a goodbye you had never got to say and he had never got to tell you.

“Oh baby, I’ll love you forever.” Hyunsuk said in your ears, and you sobbed into your sleeves, the sadness overwhelming, the memories a crushing force.

...

It was April and it was raining outside, a shower that never ended.

[End.]

[mystrangerfics]

Damaged Goods Ch. 7

A/N: This is my first Reader story I’ve really ever written and my first Billy fic. Hope it’s not horrible.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Description: This was a request by @satansparklesworld. “ Can you make a fic about Billy falling for a punk chick who is almost like him (family life and how they deal with the pain) and they learn to trust and be vulnerable with each other. Can she be on thicc side too? ” – This will be a few chapters long as it went with an idea I was working on at the time.

Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six 

Work Count: 4305

Complete Story Warnings: Abuse, Language, Smut, Death & Violence. 18+

Billy felt like he was maneuvering a minefield the next few weeks. You were randomly distant and he would let you be for a little while before he would reinsert himself into your daily life. He wanted you to have time alone, he knew you needed it but he didn't want you shutting him out. You would randomly bicker or say something hurtful. He dealt with the bickering but called you out when you said something bitter. He knew you were testing him in a way, seeing if he would turn on you. He was doing his best to stay level headed and not get upset by it but some days he lost his patience. Today was one of those days.

You had been distant and reserved, you didn’t speak to him much but you had held his hand in the hallway all day when you were together. He knew this was your way of assuring him that you were happy to see him but he was overtired. Neil had screamed at him for hours on end the night before about a bad report from the school and it had kept him up tossing and turning. He was irritable and exhausted so he just kept quiet and didn’t make conversation with you.

“Did something happen?” You finally asked at the end of the day, leaning on the locker beside him as he grabbed stuff from his. He was harshly moving the stuff around and you could sense he seemed on edge. He didn’t answer you as he continued to grab his stuff and then slammed his locker shut. “Billy, answer me,” you said with a sigh when he tried to walk by you, you gently grabbed at the sleeve of his jean jacket.

Billy ripped his arm away from you before he glared back at you. “Stop fucking touching me! If you don’t want to be with me that’s fine but make up your fucking mind already,” he said with a bitter, uncaring tone. “I’m not just going to keep waiting on you.”

“B-Billy,” you said, scrunching up your face before looking down. You felt meek and attacked by his words, you knew you’d been a little distant but you had made a point to try and let Billy know that things were okay between you both. “Billy, you know I want to,” you finally said, not knowing what else you could say.

“Could have fooled me,” he mumbled before he turned and walked out of the school, leaving you standing at his locker. You hung your head as you held your books in your arms and refused to let your burning eyes water. You were just glad no one was around to see it.

__ __

Billy had done everything to keep himself busy, he’d only made it halfway home before the guilt had begun eating away at him. He could see that hurt expression on your face, the shocked betrayal in your eyes, every time he closed his eyes, he saw it. He had turned his music up and blared it, trying to work out. Hoping to let his mind forget what he’d said and how hurtful his tone had been.

He ate dinner with everyone in silence and when he finished he went and locked himself in his room. He found himself pacing with his Walkman in hand and his headphones on, he dialed through the music on the FM radio, trying to find something. He finally let himself fall back onto his bed when Metallica greeted his ears with Fade to Black. He closed his eyes and nodded his head a little to the beat.

It helped for a little while but slowly he became restless again and stood back up, glancing out the window towards your house. He could see your bedroom light was on, he saw your shadow passing the window through the curtain. He watched for a few moments before your bedroom light clicked off. The guilt was back and he found himself looking down, feeling like the worst person.

He changed out of his sweaty shirt from earlier and pulled on a plain white one, before he clicked off his bedroom light and went to the window. He made sure to be as quiet as possible as he pulled open the window and crawled out, dropping to the ground beneath it. He made his way over to your window before he tapped on it quietly. He found himself nibbling on his bottom lip as he waited. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching him and almost jumped when he looked back and saw your face through the glass.

You scrunched up your face before you opened your window, whispering, “What are you doing here?” Billy could tell by your tone that your sadness had made way for anger. You sounded bitter and irritated with him and there was a glare in your eyes.

“Can I come in?” He tried and motioned towards you. He wasn’t too worried about your mother finding him in the house. You hadn’t told him anything but he’d seen her come home the other day with a bag full of gin. He figured she was out cold by this time.

You looked him up and down before sighing and moving away from the window, going to your bed. Billy took that as his invitation and reached up before pulling himself into your room. He managed to get in quiet enough and closed the window behind him before he turned to you. “I need to apologize,” he started and already sounded like he was pleading.

“Yeah, no shit,” you mumbled and crossed your arms. You glanced away from him as he came over and sat himself in front of you. You felt his hand rest on your bare leg and ignored how warm his touch was, how gently he seemed to run his fingers over the skin.

“I was tired and I know that’s no excuse. You didn’t deserve for me to say the things I did. I know you’re still hurting,” he said and you rolled your eyes with a huff. “Listen, I’m trying!” He said with a little heat in his tone. “I don’t...I haven’t done this,” he motioned between you both. “I’m learning as we go,” he added, his tone a little calmer.

You wanted to stay mad at him but you knew you had said much worse to him that night beside the road. Anger made you say things you didn’t mean and act in way you normally wouldn’t. You sat quiet for a moment before you glanced to him. You knew he needed patients from you too. You didn’t imagine Billy had been in many relationships before, at least not one that was supposed to hold any meaning.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled but slowly crawled towards him. “And an asshole,” you added but laid your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Billy felt like a weight was lifted from his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. “I know I am,” he said with a small smile. Billy softly let his hand run up and down your back as you laid against him. You both really didn't get many moments like this. He never got to see you when you weren't at school or in public trying to keep up your facade of being tough and strong. He tried to let his walls down, knowing you didn't get to see him like this much either.

“So Neil found out you're failing science?” You quietly asked as you continued to rest against him. You could smell the faint aroma of his cologne that had worn off some from the day, mixing with a hint of sweat from his work out. You breathed in, letting your eyes rest shut and your mind relax to Billy's presence.

“Yeah,” Billy said quietly and shook his head a little. “I guess the school suggested a tutor so I can pull my grade together before the end of the year.”

“I can't help you there. I'm just passing,” you mumbled before you sat up and let yourself lay on the bed with Billy at your feet.

Billy sat up a little more on the bed and pulled your feet into his lap, letting his hand rest on one of your ankles. “I don’t want to talk about school.”

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, letting your gaze rest on his face.

“How are you feeling? With everything. How's your mom?” Billy asked, knowing you might shut him out but hoping you wouldn't.

“She doesn't talk to me,” you said with a bitter tone and seemed like you might close off. You sighed and decided to talk. “She’s drinking herself into a coma. She’s depressed.” You weren’t looking at Billy anymore, he watched you play with a string on your shirt.

Billy frowned a little, knowing your moms disregard for you made you upset. “But how are you feeling?”

You paused for a moment and Billy swore he saw a glimmer of tears in your eyes. “I'm...I'm angry and it's hurting me so bad,” you finally breathed before you brought the palms of your hands to your eyes as the tears slid down your cheeks.

Billy moved from his spot on the bed instantly and sat beside you, pulling you into his chest. He let his hand gently brush your hair back and rubbed your back. He noted you were making progress with him when you didn't try to pull away, this was a big step for you both. You were letting him comfort you and even if the moment was sad, Billy felt like a million bucks because of it.

“I didn't want any of this to happen,” you mumbled with a wavering voice. “And I see all these kids at school and their lives are so much easier and they don't even know it,” you hiccuped. “Why do we get to suffer and have our lives be so much harder? What did we do?” You asked as you looked at him.

Billy frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know, kitten,” he said with a frown and brushed your hair back from your face. “But we’re strong and we can take it,” he assured.

“Doesn't mean I want to,” you breathed and knew Billy already understood without you explaining.

You both laid quiet for sometime and you relaxed against Billy with your eyes closed. “I know you hate Hawkins...but I'm glad you moved here,” you admitted after a little while. You had been thinking about how different things would be if he had never come.

Billy smiled a little and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I'm glad the cops dragged you back.”

You giggled a little before you lifted your head and looked at him. “Oh, Billy Hargrove. How did I end up falling in love with you?”

Billy felt his chest warm with your words and he smiled at you. This was one of the moments he realized he was head over heels for you. No one made him feel like you did and no one ever would. “I don’t know but I do know I'm the luckiest guy in the world,” he admitted.

“Corny bastard,” you joked and hit his shoulder but he saw the big smile on your face and the bashful way you glanced down.

Billy took this opportunity to press a kiss to your lips and smiled when you returned it. Your arms slowly wrapped around his neck and you both kept close for a moment. “You know,” Billy mumbled after a moment and your eyes opened fully to look into his. “We could do that thing we’ve never finished.”

You were waiting for his signature smirk and were surprised to see a bashful smile on his lips. “You’re going to have to charm me a little more than that,” you teased but smiled. “What happened to the sex hungry Billy Hargrover I used to know?”

“Still just as hungry, kitten,” Billy said, his voice deepening and a chill ran up your spine.

Billy smirked and you felt your arousal grow as lust gleamed in his eyes. You both shifted a little before you found yourself on top of Billy, your mouth pressing against his. He relaxed back on the bed and rubbed his fingertips down the backside of your arms, making tiny bumps appear on your skin as you tensed a little and giggled.

“Didn’t know you were so ticklish,” Billy mumbled with another smirk on his lips before pressing his mouth to yours again. Things started off relaxed and you both were lazily taking your time. Clothes started coming off slowly before you were both desperately pulling at one another. You had waited for longer than you would admit for Billy to be laying on top of you naked. When his hand finally slipped between your legs and his fingers dragged up your slit you huffed out and bit down to suppress a whimper.

Billy mouthed at your collarbone before he nibbled at your neck. He seemed to be completely immersed in you and you felt like the center of his whole world. You hoped your feelings were true because he was definitely the center of yours when his fingers swirled against you before finding the sweet hole that made you whine.

“I love every noise you make,” Billy whispered against your ear and you raked your fingers through his hair, pulling him back enough to kiss. Billy moved his mouth to your shoulder when you broke your lips from his and kissed the skin gently. “I love you.”

Billy’s voice seemed to fill your senses and the gentle moment was appreciated as he paused his movements and let you calm. “I love you too,” you admitted before you pulled him against you, getting him back into the previous mindset.

There was some awkward shifting, mostly on Billy’s part as he got himself situated between your legs. “Did you forget how this worked?” You teased with a smirk that made Billy’s heart race.

Billy shifted and pressed into you, making you tense and your mouth slacken a little. He heard your breath come out heavy and smirked himself. “You tell me? Did I forget?” He asked and pressed himself against you a bit harder. He felt your body tense and press up against him.You playfully swatted his shoulder but you kissed him, keeping yourself from having to answer.

Billy kept his mouth pressed to yours as you found a perfect rhythm together. When he finally pulled away he found himself panting loudly and a groan escaped him when your legs wrapped tighter around his middle. He brought his hand down between you both and began rubbing little circles around your sweet spot, making you whine.

Everything got intense really fast and Billy could barely focus when you started letting out these little moans with each breath. Your sounds soon became whimpers and Billy found himself letting out these breathy grunts with each thrust. Your skin was warm and pressed against him and as it all became too much you both focused on your physical pleasure, the steady build growing inside you.

You cried out loudly and the sound made Billy’s whole body shake. He pulled himself from inside you just in time to press the head of his dick against the inside of your thigh, seeing his pleasure smearing against your skin. He let himself fall against you and you both laid in a heap, panting loudly and lazily touching one another.

Billy hadn’t really planned on it but he hadn’t slept much the night before, and after working out and everything with you, he fell asleep. Your smell filled his senses and your warm body against him made him calm, everything felt okay.

__ __

Billy slowly woke up and ran his hand over the bed, searching for you. He jumped up after a moment, realizing he was alone and turned quickly, kneeling on the bed. He saw you sitting by the open window, a cigarette dangling from your fingers and smoke swirling from your mouth. You raised your eyebrows at him, seeming to question his panic. “Thought I bailed?”

“I-,” Billy said before realizing he had been afraid you had bailed. He figured that was stupid since he was in your house but it had still come into his mind. You both had done something intimate and he didn’t know if that had made you want distance. Billy got up from the bed, he pulled on his shorts as he came over and sat himself in front of you, leaning himself back between your legs. He leaned his head onto your thigh and rested his eyes when your fingers ran through his hair and massaged his scalp.

“Why are you awake? It’s really early,” you said, looking out at the mostly dark sky.

“Why are you awake?” Billy countered but there was a small smile on his lips. He pressed a kiss to your thigh and hummed as he rested his cheek against the warm skin,

“Just thinking about California,” you said and looked out the window like you hadn’t mentioned anything big. “Probably a two bedroom apartment, close to the ocean. You’ll have to bring your car, I’ll follow on the bike,” you rattled off the details as you saw Billy’s head raise and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“You want to go?! You’re going to go with me?!” Billy asked, his voice excited, he kept it low, knowing your mother was down the hall.

You smiled a bit but nodded excitedly. Billy jumped up and wrapped his arms around you, swinging you around in a circle. You giggled but shushed him and carefully held the cigarette away from him, a large smile came onto your face as you saw his happiness.

“I love you,” Billy said and kissed you. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” Billy kept repeating the phrase and pressing a kiss to your lips with each uttering of the three words.

It all felt like a lot but as you saw his smile and shining eyes you couldn't help but replicate it in your own features. “I love you too,” you said before holding his face and pressing a kiss to his lips that lingered. “Now put me down,” you teased with a smile and you felt him slowly lower you to the floor.

“I promise. It’s going to be amazing, everything is,” Billy found himself saying. “We’re going to be together and you’re going to love California.”

You smiled and tossed your cigarette out the window before you wrapped your arms tightly around Billy. You were so happy that you had decided to go with him. You tried to keep your nerves down as you had agreed to such a commitment. You were letting Billy know that he had your complete trust, you just prayed he wouldn’t abuse it. __ __

Billy definitely had a change in spirits over the next month. He smiled whenever he saw you and you knew there was something more behind the smile. It was him knowing that you had given him your complete trust and that you really did love him. He managed to get his grade up in science and was improving everything in general, trying to make sure nothing would keep him from leaving with you in the summer.

“So I talked with my friend Michael, he’s scoping out apartments for us,” Billy said as you both got out of his car in front of his house. “We may have to stay with one of my friends when we get to California. Until we get jobs,” Billy admitted as he unlocked the door.

You followed in behind him and dropped your bag by the door. “Well, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” you began but you felt Billy’s hand on your arm and looked up. You scrunched up your face when you saw him standing back to you until you saw Neil standing in the living room.

“Dad, I didn’t know you’d be home,” Billy said and the tone of his voice made your stomach sink.

“What’s this about California?” Neil asked and the way he held himself so tense and straight made you move a little more behind Billy.

“Dad, it’s nothing,” Billy tried and the weakness in his voice sounded so foreign to you.

“Nothing?” Neil said and raised his eyebrows, his voice taunting. “You think you’re just going to take off and not tell anyone?!” Neil shouted and you flinched back when you felt Billy weaken a little in his spot. “This dumb bitch putting thoughts in your head?!” Neil asked and violently thrusted his arm towards you.

Billy had been nearly cowering but when Neil made such a harsh motion towards you he had moved in front of you, putting you completely behind him. “Dad, leave her alone,” Billy said, his voice finding its footing.

“The hell did you just say?” Neil asked, his face showing angered, shock.

“I said, leave her alone,” Billy returned and you felt his hand on your stomach, pushing you back from him a little. “(Y/N) go home,” Billy said quietly.

“Billy-,” you tried, not wanting to leave him. You knew what Neil would do and you didn’t want it to happen. You had been in Billy’s situation, knowing that as soon as you were left alone with your abuser the pain would begin.

“Go home,” he whispered and he bent down, grabbing your bag from beside the door and handing it back to you.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you whispered with a frown and shot a glance at Neil.

Billy gave you a small smile but the underlying sadness was there. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered and opened the door, gently pushing you out.

“I love you,” you whimpered a little as you couldn’t hide your frown. The feeling in your gut made you want to stay but you knew that sometimes that only made these situations worse.

“I love you too,” he whispered and you leaned forward enough to press a small peck on his lips before you went out the door and he closed it.

You didn’t want to leave the porch, you felt like if you stayed there nothing could happen but you knew it would only anger Neil. You willed your feet to move and by the time you reached the street you could hear the shouting. You wanted to go back but you couldn’t do that to Billy, make it worse for him.

You got home and went inside but stopped when you saw your mother passed out at the table, a bottle of gin sitting beside her and a glass in her hand. You felt your eyes watering as everything built up and you bounced a little in your spot. You growled in frustration before going back outside and heading for your bike. You threw your leg over the bike and grabbed your helmet before you pulled it down over your head and buckled it. You shifted the bag you had thrown over your shoulder and started your bike before you backed yourself up and gunned it down the road.

__ __

You sat in the darkness and looked up at the stars, gravel dug into your back from the position you laid in but you stayed still. You had been laying in the same spot for a few hours now and when you heard movement you shifted your head a bit. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?” You heard Billy’s voice, it wasn’t rude, it was genuine. You quickly sat up before you turned and ran up the steep slope of the hill and hugged onto Billy. “Hey, baby,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” you said as your eyes watered. You pulled back and continued to cry as you hesitated to hold his face. “Oh, baby,” you whimpered, seeing all the bruising and his split lip.

“Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Billy whispered and tried to assure you.

“I’m so ready to get out of here. I want to take you away and just be happy,” you whispered and gently held his face before you pressed a gentle kiss to his split lip.

“You still wanna go with me?” He asked, almost seeming a little surprised.

“Of course I do,” you said, confused why he thought you wouldn’t.

“I was scared you might change your mind with everything,” he confessed. “I went to your house and you weren’t there. I figured you’d be here,” Billy said, glancing over your shoulder at the little cross.

“I’m sorry. I went home and my mom was passed out and I couldn’t stay there knowing you were being hurt right down the road,” you admitted before you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head onto his shoulder.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said and rubbed at your back. He slowly sat himself down and let you curl up in his lap, holding onto him. You started cleaning his face with the sleeve of your shirt, being gentle. He gently wrapped his fingers around your hand before he pressed a kiss to it. “My dad kicked me out.” You frowned before you hugged Billy again and rested your chin on his shoulder. “I got some of my clothes and a few things though. It’ll be alright.”

“One more month and then we’re out of here,” you said to him, trying to stay positive.

Billy smiled. “One more month.”

__ __

Tag List: @kaitlinlexiexx @heda-mikaelson @klanceiscannon14

[popatochisssp]

Snips & Snails  7/7

Series: Undertale Relationship(s): Sans/Reader, Sans & Papyrus Chapter Warnings: Depression, but otherwise none

In another life, in another dream...

AO3 Link

PATIENCE (Optionally Canon, AU)

“…AND OBVIOUSLY, BRANDY WAS DEVASTATED, IT WAS HER FAVORITE ONE! I SWEAR, SHE ALMOST HAD A MELTDOWN THEN AND THERE, BUT SAPPHIRE AND I……… SANS!”

Sans jolts, his skull whipping away from the window. He tries to look like he wasn’t aimlessly cloud-gazing and…probably isn’t very successful. “yeah, Pap?”

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?”

Sans scoffs as if the very thought is ridiculous. “yeah. ‘course.”

Papyrus gives him A Look over the kitchen counter. “OH, REALLY?” he asks. “THEN WHAT WAS I JUST TALKING ABOUT?”

“………”

Sans has no idea.

And guiltily, he realizes that Papyrus definitely doesn’t even look surprised.

“THAT’S HOW I KNOW IT’S SERIOUS,” he says, almost to himself. “NO JOKES. NOT EVEN A PUN!”

Aw, hell.

Sans forces a grin, shooting a cheeky wink Pap’s way. “hey now, if all ya’ wanted was to hear a punch-line, i can—”

“NO, SANS, IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT, NOW. YOU’RE ALL OUT OF SORTS, WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU?”

“…” Maybe it wasn’t too late? “nothin’, i’m just sorta hungry. what’cha makin’?”

No dice—Papyrus raises his browbones emphatically, like Sans had just proved his point.

“I DON’T KNOW, SANS,” he says with impressive sarcasm. “I SEEM TO BE SHAPING SOME MEAT HERE. IT LOOKS SOMEWHAT LIKE A LOAF. I WONDER IF THERE’S A NAME FOR SUCH A DISH, THAT I’VE BEEN STANDING HERE MAKING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU FOR TWENTY MINUTES.”

…damn it.

Sans sighs.

“alright, ya’ got me,” he reluctantly admits. “i’m…m’just a little…tired, i guess… seriously, don’t worry about it.”

“…YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO MAKE ME BRING IT UP, AREN’T YOU.”

“bring what up?”

“THAT YOU’VE BEEN ‘TIRED’ FOR MONTHS?” Papyrus wonders rhetorically. “THAT YOUR ‘NAPS’ ARE GETTING RIDICULOUS, EVEN FOR YOU? THAT THERE MIGHT BE A VERY SERIOUS THING HAPPENING HERE THAT STARTS WITH A ‘D’?”

“…phew. okay, that’s some real heavy stuff, bro, but i mean… if you really think i gotta get laid that bad…”

“YOU DO—………UGH! VULGAR!” Papyrus throws his hands up in frustration. “YOU ARE VULGAR AND THE D-WORD IS DEPRESSION, SANS, I’M WORRIED YOU’RE DEPRESSED!”

If Sans had a stomach, he thinks it’d have dropped at those words.

Or maybe twisted up in a knot. A real fancy, complicated one, too.

His discomfort must show on his skull—he really is losing it lately—because his brother sags a little, looking apologetic.

“I KNOW,” he says, “I KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE LAST THING YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT, AND THAT’S…FINE.”

It sounds a little like it physically hurts him to say that.

Naturally, Sans is wary.

“…is it?”

“YES,” Papyrus assures through gritted teeth. “BUT! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK! YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”

Sans feels a spark of emotion in his soul.

It’s faint, only a flicker, but after months of the alternative, any feeling seems welcome.

Even irritation.

“yeah, sure thing,” he quips. “i’ll just cheer up real quick, problem solved.”

“THAT’S…!” A quiet huff of breath. “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT…”

…Yeah.

Yeah, Sans knows that.

As always, Papyrus is just…trying to help his lazy slob of a brother.

And Sans is…being a total dick to him for no reason.

damn it.

“sorry, Pap…”

“DON’T APOLOGIZE. IT’S FINE.”

Of course it is. It always is, isn’t it?

Even when it’s not.

Sans just…doesn’t have it in him to argue.

“what……what is it i’m supposed to ‘do’?” he asks, trying to act like he cares.

“ANYTHING?” Papyrus tries weakly. “I… WE’RE ON THE SURFACE, SANS! THE THING OUR ENTIRE SPECIES HAS BEEN WISHING FOR, FOR…EVER!”

“yeah. s’great.”

“NOT FOR YOU,” Papyrus frowns. “AND I…I DON’T KNOW WHY IT’S NOT GREAT FOR YOU.”

Sans wished he had the words to explain; the drive to explain.

(How can he be happy when there’s an inexplicable anomaly out there, randomly altering the time stream? How can he care about anything when he doesn’t know if—or more accurately, when—this timeline is going to end? Since the data’s already shown that exact thing happening, happened, going to happen again, over and over and over and over…)

(He can’t trust this. He can’t trust anything. He just wants…)

But he doesn’t have the words. He doesn’t have the drive.

And he definitely doesn’t have the hope his brother has.

So Sans just stares at the kitchen counter and doesn’t say anything.

“BUT…I DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHY.”

…Sans looks up.

“ALL I NEED TO DO…IS BE HERE! AND TO REMIND YOU I’M HERE AND THAT…WE’RE HERE, UP HERE, AFTER SO STUPIDLY LONG, AND ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE! SO YOU HAVE TO GO DO SOMETHING!” An enviable note of steely determination enters Papyrus’ voice as he continues, “PICK UP A NEW HOBBY, FIND A THERAPY GROUP, GET AN EMOTIONAL SUPPORT ANIMAL, I DON’T CARE, JUST…SOMETHING!”

He softens just a little, adding, “I HATE WATCHING YOU JUST…GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS, SANS. I…I NEED YOU TO TRY.”

And that…

Stars above, that’s what breaks him.

Sans slumps, defeated. He finds he…can’t quite look Papyrus in the eye-socket so he turns to the window again.

The sky is blue and the clouds are fluffy and it’s…

However temporary, it is beautiful.

“alright,” he says. “i’ll…i’ll try…. somethin’.”

Sans must mean it because Papyrus looks relieved.

But more importantly, he lets the topic go and gets back to talking about the girls at his work.

And Sans can pretend for awhile that he didn’t just make a monumentally stupid promise.

Again.

He really hates it when he does that.

-

So…a hobby.

That sounds alarmingly like work and Sans has no idea where he’d even start.

Picking an entirely new skill to learn would probably require him to have an opinion and make a choice, and his only investment in…anything…right now is that his bro is a master at puppy-dog eye-sockets and Sans can’t not do the bare minimum to appease him.

Hobby’s out.

Therapy group sounds a little easier—go sit in a circle with a bunch of other sad-sacks and just talk about whatever, right…? —but in practice, maybe not.

Sans doesn’t think therapy groups exist for the shit he’s wrestling with…or maybe he’s just not looking in the right places?

‘TEMPORAL SHENANIGANS RUINING YOUR LIFE – OPEN TO IDIOTS, CRAZIES, AND GENUINE DELUSIONALS ALIKE! WEDNESDAY EVENINGS FROM 6 TO 7 IN THE LIBRARY MEETING AREA. BRING YOUR OWN TINFOIL HATS!’

Sans snorts at the thought and it’s the closest he’s come to a real laugh in longer than he cares to admit.

Papyrus is right, this is bad, even for him.

But self-help group is definitely out, too.

Which pretty much just leaves ‘emotional support animal’ on the table, lest Sans actually have to come up with an idea of his own, and pfft.

He gives the matter some thought and comes to a very profound conclusion.

When it comes right down to it…aren’t all animals emotional support animals?

Sans thinks he likes that logic.

No need to see any professionals or be diagnosed as something, or have to research trainers and qualifications and whatever other rigamarole might be involved in this The Official Way.

Regular ol’ animal shelters are a dime a dozen. He can picture at least five of the damn things scattered all around town, all equally easy to shortcut to, pick something out, go home and be done with it.

In the end, the one he decides on is entirely thoughtless. It’s a little place, one he thinks he probably spotted from the nearby park he dropped Tori and Frisk off at sometimes.

Just as good a place as any to get a pet from, he figures.

Sans shoves his hands in his pockets and strolls on in.

It’s…a ghost town.

The lobby is empty, just a bunch of visitor chairs without anybody in ‘em. It’s quiet, almost dead-silent, and if it weren’t for the distant sound of barking, he might’ve thought the place was actually abandoned.

There’s a front desk, too, with some pens and business cards, but nobody manning it. Sans cranes his neck a little and thinks he can almost see a blur of somebody disappearing into the back.

lunch break, he guesses. just my luck.

He sighs, surprising himself with a stab of annoyed frustration, and starts to turn on his heel.

Out of the corner of his eye-socket, he sees another motion blur—somebody striding purposefully past a doorway. It makes him pause long enough for the blur to double back and suddenly, he’s meeting eyes with…

You.

…Probably the roughest-looking human Sans has seen up here so far.

“Oh, hi!” you say, introducing yourself in a perfectly cheerful voice. “Can I help you with anything?”

But Sans isn’t fooled.

Not with your real feelings written all over your face.

Bags under your eyes, a tense edge to your grin, and a general vibe that just screams frazzled…

You’re busy. You have a lot of really important stuff to do right now and the last thing you want is to be detouring to help this grubby-looking skeleton that just wandered into your shelter.

welp. too bad.

“name’s sans,” he says, extending his hand. “sans the skeleton.”

You courteously reach out in return.

Sans watches your hand intently. He can’t help but notice a mark on it, angry red and alarmingly fresh—a scar?—and it almost makes him reconsider what he’s about to do…

But hey, he’s at an animal shelter. They probably wouldn’t hire dangerous, street-brawling, knife-fighting maniacs to run the place, as tense and on-edge as you might look.

He probably doesn’t need to Check you.

Your hand grasps his and Sans’ favorite melody in the world rings out in the silence of the lobby.

PFFFTTHHHBBBFFFFFFFFTTTT…!

You freeze, your eyes going wide. Time almost seems to stand still in the moment you take to process what just happened, Sans waiting for your reaction to find out the type of person you are.

He sees shock flash on your face, some confusion and maybe just a touch of embarrassment. And then…

moment of truth…

You laugh.

“Hahahaha, oh my god!” You pull back your hand to cover your mouth, like you could somehow hide the broad grin blooming across your face. “Is that a whoopie cushion?! I, haha, oh man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those in real life!”

Sans smiles back and quicker than he has in weeks, he quips, “wow, you poor, deprived human… that’s a shame.”

You snicker and you look…a little lighter, when you’re laughing; softer and leagues more approachable than you were just a minute ago.

Sans was way off: you’re no scary, knife-fighting maniac, just a busy, stressed out human.

One with a fantastic sense of humor, no less.

“well,” Sans drawls, pleasantly surprised, “i came here lookin’ to adopt, but it seems pretty dead. maybe it’s me.”

Undead jokes—they killed with humans every time, and you’re no exception, laughing even as you start to look a little sheepish.

“No, no, it’s…not just you,” you say apologetically. “We’re a little understaffed right now…”

Sans watches you glance over at the front desk, looking a little irritated, but you’re already smiling again when you turn back to him.

“But it’s great that you’re looking to adopt! Was there any kind of pet you had in mind, or…?”

Sans shrugs.

“was thinkin’ maybe a midsize. used is fine, but it’s gotta be good condition, probably somethin’ in a nice black or calico. classy, y’know?”

You’re already struggling not to laugh.

Sans winks at you, chuckling, “nah, m’joshin’ ya’, i don’t have anything in mind. any chance you could just show me around? see if anything tickles my cat fancy?”

“Pfft…! Yeah,” you say, “I think we can accommodate that! Come on back with me, I’ll show you some of our inmates.”

You lead the way and Sans follows after you.

The room you bring him to is lined wall-to-wall with cats—dozens of big eyes in fluffy little faces peering out at him—and stars above, they’re all so friggin’ cute.

A grumpy-looking orange one yowls when it catches him looking at it and Sans scoffs.

“‘innocent,’” he says, rolling his eye-lights, “i bet. that’s what they all say. nice try, pal.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you spoke cat,” you reply, sounding delighted.

And of course, what else can Sans say to that except, “you kitten? m’fluent.”

Your smile is wide and amused and Sans can’t quite remember the last time he had such a good audience.

…Or the last time he cared about having one.

“Feel free to check out the merchandise,” you invite with a playful sweep of your arm. “If you want to spring anybody for some playtime, just let me know.”

Sans dutifully surveys the room of future feline friends under your encouraging gaze.

There’s fat cats and skinny cats, fluffy cats and sleek cats, young ones and old ones all in a fuzzy rainbow of colors.

He talks to a couple, pokes at some ears and paws (and only gets bapped for his audacity once), scratches a chin or two…

But really…

Sans’ metaphorical heart isn’t in it.

Much as his mood’s improved since walking into this place, he’s…he’s still really only here because of Papyrus.

And he doesn’t even feel up to lying about it.

“mmm, sorry to say nobody’s sticking out,” he admits to you with a half-hearted grimace. “y’see…m’kinda just lookin’ for my brother? so, uh…not a lotta strong feelings on this, y’know?”

…Or on much of anything else, for that matter.

Sans weighs the merits of throwing in a quick joke about being ‘dead on the inside, too,’ but decides against it. You don’t seem like the type to appreciate a joke quite that nihilist and there’s no point bringing down your nice mood.

He scratches at his cheek, forcefully injecting some humor into his tone to ask, “i don’t suppose you’d have any expert recommendations, huh?”

Sans isn’t expecting you to actually consider it, or the look of cautious hope that crosses your face.

“Is…is your brother a cat-person, too, or…would a dog be an option?”

“sure,” Sans decides after a moment. “Pap loves dogs.”

It wasn’t a complete lie: it was really just the one dog Papyrus hated, and if Sans managed to come home with an animal of similar temperament, then…

Maybe it’d serve his meddling brother right, trying to force Sans to take care of his mental health.

“Great!” you chirp, heading towards the door. “I think I’ve got just the guy. I’ll take you to the playroom and bring him out for you!”

Your enthusiasm is…odd.

Sans can’t quite put his phalange on why yet, but in a weird way, it’s also kinda…catching.

He’ll give you one thing—he’s definitely intrigued, now.

In short order, you lead him to a big open room full of worn and colorful toys and disappear for a couple minutes.

When you return, you’re holding the leash of a scruffy mop of black and white with a smile almost as winning as yours.

“This is Oreo!” you proclaim as the dog all but trots up to Sans.

He’s a good-looking little fella, with ice-blue eyes and one ear at a jauntily crooked angle, and between his sprightly grin and his wagging tail Sans would bet dollars to donuts that he’s nothing less than a lovable goof.

A perfect fit for their home.

Sans has to wonder for a second if you’d done a cold-read on him or if you were just that good at matchmaking after however long you’d worked at this place.

Sans grins, holding his hand out in invitation. “hey, oreo, what’s cookie’n?”

Oreo happily approaches…and completely bypasses Sans’ hand, dropping his head to snuffle at his slippers instead.

“pfft… ya’ missed, pal.”

Your laughter rings out again. “Yeah,” you say, “he, uh…he just sorta does that? I think it’s how he says ‘hi’ to people.”

“ah,” Sans says, like you’ve explained everything, “language barrier. i don’t speak dog, just cat.”

Oreo eventually finishes his greeting ritual and Sans gives it another shot, reaching out to give the guy a pat on the head.

Oreo’s ears flick back and he ducks away.

Before he can even ask, you’re reaching out to hold the dog and awkwardly explaining, “Oh, that’s…he doesn’t…really like it when people touch his face, he… he kinda only lets me do it so far, but it’s…he’s got a lot of other great petting-spots that he does like!”

……

You’re holding something back.

Sans can see it all over your face, plain as day: that reaction meant something and you don’t want him to know what it is.

He didn’t get saddled with Judgeship ‘cause he was in the habit of letting people pull the wool over his eye-sockets. He’s paying extra attention to you now, every inflection and micro-expression you give him.

You take a knee beside Oreo—making the two of you the same size—and start to scratch at the scruff of his shoulders.

“This is his favorite spot for scratching,” you say, quickly like you’re trying to get control of the conversation.

Your petting fluffs Oreo’s fur all up and gets his tail wagging again. He’s a cute dog but he looks even cuter when he’s smiling, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a dumb, happy pup.

Totally harmless.

“Now, we’re not totally sure what breed he is, but we think he has some hound-blood in there somewhere because he’s big on sniffing—but I don’t have to tell you that, obviously!”

You laugh a little, lightly, and Sans knows a fake when he hears one.

You keep talking, enumerating Oreo’s apparently many merits—smart, a fast learner, great at fetch, et cetera, et cetera—and it’s all just as suspicious as everything else, but what finally makes it click in Sans’ skull isn’t your words at all.

It’s the way you’re holding the dog.

You’re angling yourself ever so slightly away from Sans, gesturing with one hand like you’re trying to draw his attention to it while the other is tucked firmly out of sight.

You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it; pure guilty instinct giving you away.

Unfortunately for you, Sans still remembers the mark he saw on your hand before—the very recent scar.

And Sans knows what you’re trying to hide.

“…and as far as noise goes, he’s usually pretty quiet, I guess he’s just not much of a barker—”

“i’m guessin’ his bite might be a little worse…right?”

You freeze.

“I…how did…?”

You seem to give up on the question at the same time as you give up on your lie.

You crumple guiltily, pulling your hand in to your chest and stroking at the raw-looking mark.

“You’re…you’re right,” you admit reluctantly, “there was…an incident…but! It was just the one! Oreo’s a good boy, it wasn’t his fault! He was…” You look visibly distressed as you try to explain, “He was in really bad shape when we got him in, he couldn’t even see, it’s not like it was…on purpose… He’s not bad, he’s just…just…”

Sans raises his browbones as you cut yourself off, your jaw shutting with a nearly-audible click. Your cheeks are coloring and your eyes are abruptly glued to the floor as you take a deep breath and let it out through your nose.

You think you’ve said too much.

“I’m sorry,” you say after that pause, “you’re completely right. That’s a definite drawback for a pet. You have every right to know the behavioral history of an animal that you’d be bringing into your home. I should’ve led with that.”

…oh.

Sans… doesn’t think he likes this new tone in your voice?

Suddenly, he feels like he’s A Client Being Pacified, like you’ve physically stepped away from him in an attempt to be professional.

That stiff set of your shoulders is back, too, and your smile is gone—the work of his jokes already undone in just a few short words.

He really doesn’t think he likes that.

But you’re already looping Oreo’s lead around your hand, coaxing the dog up and around to leave with you.

“If you’ll wait here a little longer,” you say, “I can bring out a more…suitable candidate.”

It’s pure impulse.

Sans can’t explain it any other way except that watching you turn and walk away from him, looking like the epitome of defeat, makes him feel like…

Like he has to do something.

Sans Checks you.

With a flare of his magic, his vision sharpens, extends beyond the moment and into a theoretical Encounter.

Across your back, he sees your name, your total lack of LV and EXP, and…

The brightest, most beautiful Justice soul he’s ever seen.

It’s glowing, shining, blazing like a miniature sun and Sans is stunned for a moment by how utterly gorgeous he finds it.

It’s only when he tears his eye-lights away from it, though, that he sees the words below your stats—the truth of your very soul in this one moment.

* Just wants everything to turn out okay.

………

aw jeez… don’t we all…?

“hey,” Sans calls, stopping you in your tracks, “wait a minute.”

You turn, confused, with Oreo paused at your heels.

“i, uh…i never said this lil creaminal was a ‘no.’ bring ‘im back over here a sec, i didn’t even get a chance to meet the guy.”

His joke was lackluster at best. Terrible delivery, the kind of thing Papyrus would groan at him over and not even smile for.

…But you look happy, and Sans is… pretty sure it had nothing to do with the pun.

He’s not used to making people happy when it’s not ‘cause of a joke. It’s nice.

Sans decides not to examine that thought and when Oreo bounces back over with you, he gets down onto the floor to meet him, eye-to-eye-socket.

Oreo’s whirlwind wagging tail is his only warning before he’s nearly knocked off balance by the sudden excited animal in his personal space.

Sans can’t help but laugh as a wet nose and tickly whiskers are rubbed all over his skull, sniffing him within an inch of his life. He tries to gently shove the beast back a step and only gets a face-lick or two for his trouble.

Oh yeah…this guy was a lover, not a fighter.

Sans snickers when Oreo finally loses interest in his skull and starts nibbling the sleeve of his hoodie.

“hey, cujo,” he chides, “you’re all mixed up. s’the bones you’re supposed to chew on, not the sleeve.” He turns to you, expectantly. “thought you said this guy was smart?”

“He’s…he’s doing his best,” you say.

You’re laughing again, looking even happier than you were before. It’s a good look on you.

…and it’s contagious.

Of all the real, genuine emotions Sans expected to feel anytime soon, happiness was the last on his list.

“alright, how much?” he finds himself blurting out.

You look startled, so he continues.

“might as well take this guy off your hands for ya’,” he says, as casually as he can fake. “he seems like a decent enough pooch and, uh…i reallydon’t wanna shop around. lotta work, y’know?”

“R…right! I hear you, it’s a total pain in the ass.” Your smile takes a turn for the tentative as you pose, “Or, I guess…a pain in the coccyx for you…right?”

…oh my god.

“snrk…that’d be a fair assumption,” he assures you and watches as you giggle almost helplessly in response.

You’re adorable. You’re hilariously adorable and Sans feels like a king for being the one to get you to tell such a dumb skeleton joke.

If the frazzled look of you when he first walked in was any indication, you’re somebody who could really use some more joking in their life.

Either way, Sans lets you hand him Oreo’s leash and follows you as you practically skip back up to the lobby with him to get the paperwork.

It’s still just the two of you there and as you start rummaging around at the front desk, Sans looks down into Oreo’s pale blue eyes.

He doesn’t know what the hell’s come over him.

He’s never been this impulsive, this reckless, not in his whole life: he’s adopting this…random dog and it’s probably fifty percent convenience, but the other fifty is because he knows it’ll make you happy.

You, some tired, stressed out human he just met.

Sans tries to ask himself why he’s doing this, but the only thing even close to an answer that he comes up with is…

The way your soul gleamed when he Checked you.

Before yours, the only human soul he’d ever bothered to Check was Frisk’s, a bold and blaring red—Determined—that spoke of strength and raw power, the equivalent of the entirety of monsterkind.

Sans thinks he never realized how much seeing it—a child with a soul a million times more motivated and dedicated than he could ever be—may have disheartened him.

What could he ever do against a soul that strong? How was he supposed to just…live…in a world full of souls that strong? Capable of who knows what?

He never conclusively figured out the cause of the time anomalies. It could be anyone, anything; monsters could still end up back Underground at any time, no matter how many years they’d been up here, and if the thing that did it turned out to be as strong as Frisk…

why even bother?

But…you.

You and your soul…

You’re not Determined. You’re not oozing raw power, trying to be a hero and save the world.

You’re somebody who’s just…doing their best, trying to get by, wanting things to turn out okay.

what a fuckin’ mood.

Sans gets that. He feels like he’d probably get you, if the two of you ever had a real conversation, and it’s not like that’d make him feel better about Temporal Shenanigans, but…

He wants to.

He actually kinda wants to talk to you and get to know you—to figure out who you are beyond what he just Saw— and that’s an urge he hasn’t felt for years.

That’s probably why, as he’s scrawling his name and number on the form you handed him, he looks up and asks you, “so where’s the section where you write your number?”

You look at him with wide eyes. “My n……what, like…as a……as a dating thing, or…?”

As cute funny as your bashful expression is, that’s way too fast, even for Weird Impulsive Sans.

“nah,” he chuckles gently, “i just figured you might wanna keep in touch. y’know, get updates on your son an’ stuff.”

That surprises a smile out of you. “Pfft, ‘my son’?” you echo. “Since when is Oreo my son?”

“uhh, since always?” Sans says, as if you’re the weirdo. “ya’ don’t get to pick your family.”

You stare at him blankly. “You…literally just picked him? To be your family?”

Sans just waves you off. “hey, hey, hey now, let’s not bring logic into this.”

You laugh—that delightful sound that Sans has probably spent half his life chasing—and he must’ve really caught you off-guard with that one because somewhere in your laughter, you snort.

It’s an ugly sound and you look a little embarrassed to have made it, but Sans’ eye-lights contract, his soul thrumming with a new sort of energy.

oh, hot damn.

“okay, uh…for the record, a date might not be…totally out of the question.” Sans feels his magic flushing across his cheekbones and clears the throat he doesn’t have. “later. obviously. if, uh. if it works out that way. eheheheh, no…no need to rush stuff…right?”

He’s relieved when you smile, like you like the idea of that as much as he does.

“Right! Yeah, definitely!”

You spare a second to rustle around looking for some spare paper—Sans assumes to write your number on—but before you can find anything, the front door opens behind him with a little jingle.

Ah, well, you’re gonna need to pay attention to the new guy coming in. You’re still on the clock, after all, and Sans would hate to hold up somebody who was actually trying to get some work done.

“don’t worry about it,” he tells you, taking a step back. “ya’ got my number already: you text me if ya’ wanna.”

It takes you a second to process what he said, but then you’re agreeing, “Oh, right, yeah, if…if you’re sure!”

“pawsitive,” he winks. “i’m sure you wanted to hear more of my hilarious jokes, but don’t terrierself up about it. m’feelin’ a lot of petential here. text me whenever.”

And on the heels of your snickering, with naught but a pair of playful finger-guns, Sans leaves the shelter with his brand new dog.

-

He ends up taking the long way home.

It’s more walking, but Oreo gets the chance to soak up some sun and sniff some stuff, and nobody ever said he had to walk fast.

The fluffy goofball has his nose crammed into a bush by the time Sans very flatly tells him, “ya’ don’t look like an ‘oreo,’ buddy.”

The dog does not seem to care about his judgment in the slightest.

But…he is Sans’ dog, now.

He doesn’t have to be ‘Oreo.’

He’s not stuck at the shelter, he can……he can be anything. He can do anything. The possibilities are actually…kinda endless.

Sans isn’t entirely sure he’s still thinking about the dog.

But when his phone buzzes just an hour or two later, with a message from a mystery number and your name in the text, he finds himself smiling at it.

me, from the shelter: Hey, it’s me, from the shelter! How’s Oreo settling in?

sans: [IMG-1]

sans: he’s great, but i went ahead and renamed your son for ya, he doesn’t answer to oreo anymore. sorry, that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

me, from the shelter: Haha okay, so who is he now, then?

sans: same thing you are—my new Buddy. ;)

me, from the shelter: LOL, it suits him, nice choice! :D

Looking at your little smiley face on his phone, Sans thinks that he actually feels…hopeful, somehow.

‘ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE,’ Pap had said and…maybe he wasn’t wrong?

It definitely feels true about you.

Maybe you will end up just being Sans’ buddy, or maybe you’ll be something more. He certainly has no way of knowing and suddenly, that seems exciting instead of demotivational.

Either way…

He can’t wait to drag you by Grillby’s sometime for a lunch break. If anybody could use some good food and bad laughs, it seems like it’d probably be you.

Sans wonders what your opinion is on grease…?

Canon AU, post-pacifist ending of Fur a Good Time, Call…

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies but the work is hard and often gross, and you've been at it for years without much help from your coworkers. You've got a lot of love to give, but you're headed for a burnout and fast!

But maybe the weird, funny monster who just adopted your favorite dog can help you remember how to relax...or at least how to laugh again!

A/N: This is a purely hypothetical scenario--I don't consider it canon to FGTC-- but if you'd like to know your options for how to place this chapter:

Option 1: This is a What-If that never came to be.

Option 2: Frisk figured out how to RESET again and redid the pacifist route.

Option 3: This is what happened on their first pacifist route and when they RESET to experiment with other endings, FGTC happened and they got stuck-- per Chapter 3 of this.

Option 4: This is a completely separate multiverse, happening concurrently with FGTC, and they both exist!

Up to you to choose your favorite! :3

Prev Chapter

[anomaly00-archive]

When Comes the Dawn Writing Update #1

Word Count: 1582 out of ?

Pages: 6

Status: Drafting

Hey! Hi! So...this is a thing now.

Imma be honest, I totally procrastinated on Ch.5--like, I haven’t even finished writing it. I just have a vague idea of cinematic scenes that I want to put in. But, uh, progress is progress, right? Even if it is like five and a half pages of crap. But before we dive into what the happens in Ch. 5, I should probably give you some context.

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LAST TIME ON WCTD...

The story starts with Fenice, 15 years old and absolutely craving for a life outside of her comfy countryside manor, having something similar to a panic attack (I say similar, because I didn’t do much research on panic attacks on writing this scene because I wanted to capture the emotions I wanted without getting side-tracked) because she may-or-may-not have accidentally poisoned her own mother.

After being helped to calm down by her governess Misstress Leda, Fenice is told that her mother is still barely alive but will probably not survive through the night.

Mother and daughter have their last moments together, during which her mother (Titania) warns Fenice to be careful, as the people who targeted her may come after Fenice next.

Titania die at the end of the day

A funeral was held at the capital where Fenice meets her estranged father (the king) for the very first time.

After the funeral, King Dantalion can be seen stressing in his study because oh gods his ex-wife is dead, he just met his daughter after more than a decade and when did she get so big??? and what in the abyss is he supposed to do with Fenice??

Fenice plays a game of chess to prioritize her goals. Strangely enough, it works

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AND NOW, BACK TO THE PRESENT

So, chapter five is primarily to introduce the second main character (who is also, technically, the antagonist?) Prince Charles, the de facto heir apparent. A regular ol’ prince charming with a penchant for sneaking out of the palace walls to have some fun and becomes insanely curious of his new neighbor. You can check out the character intro I made for him here

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Scenes

As of now, Ch. 5 has only two scenes, most of it being comprised of

Scene 1: There are rumors about the palace of a deadborn, a word that Charles doesn’t exactly know the meaning of, thinking that it means a ghost. He doesn’t believe in spirits but does start putting some stock into the rumors when he notices the presence of another person living in his wing of Erthain palace. A wing that he and his servants has been the sole occupant of for twelve years.

It’s not that he’s the sort of person to believe in spirits and superstitions--really, all that stuff is nonsense people say to scare children--so the first few days of people talking about the deadborn was met with scoffs and rolled eyes.

Then Charles started noticing things. Erthain palace held a separate wing for royal children and visiting royalty, and for most of his twelve years of existence, Charles was the sole occupant. It’s why he took note of the extra guards stationed in the wings or the two new maidservants milling about the halls. The maids--twins from the looks of it—always report to the chambers a couple of doors away from his, but whenever he’d ask about his new neighbor, they’d always give a vague answer.

A slightly extended version of this scene is in the character intro post I linked above.

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Scene 2: A flashback scene where Charles iterates his first-ever encounter with the ‘deadborn.’  

The distance between them and the shadows that streaked her face obscured the woman’s features from his sight, but her red hair could never be missed. In Aetier, or even in lands of Southern Raia, the people’s hair ranged from palettes of a sandy brown to  deep obsidian; a rare few, those whose blood originates farther north, could flaunt fair and golden hair. But never red.

To Charles’ knowledge, he only knew of one Aetierian that could boast hair so red.

And the king held a proper funeral for her mere weeks ago.

Shock, awe, indifference, he could not say what emotion it was that came over him at that moment. Only that her gaze rooted him to his spot--that is, if she even noticed him--as if she had cast a spell to turn him to stone.

Who was she?

-----

This is also the chapter that everyone including the author is introduced to Gwyn Aelid, a young Witch Doctor-in-training (or just Witch), whose serving as the apprentice to the Royal Healer/studying to become a Healer (So like, think a nurse practitioner studying to become a doctor). I don’t really know how the hell he came to be, but I blame it on Charles. Gwyn, from an author’s point off view, is like that one character that just randomly appeared on the page. Like, you never planned for him, never thought of his existence, but then he’s there and you already named him, and well, I guess he can stick around. He may or may not become one of my favorite children in the future.

He’s about a year older than Charles, skinny in the way that mothers and grandmothers everywhere are affronted and want to start shoveling food in his mouth, and whose sharp features contrast with his overall soft personality. Despite his somewhat respected status as an apprentice, he comes from humble origins and mostly relies on his benefactor (the Royal Healer) for necessities.

He’s also the unwilling accomplice to prince Charles’ escapades.

“Look, I need a favor from you.”

At those words, Gwyn slumped his shoulders. His eyes lowered, lips twisted as if he was about to release a groan or a sigh but then thought against it. Charles has seen that look more than enough times to know what was coming next.

“Again? Sir, you cannot keep asking me to do this,” he hissed, eyes shifting at their surroundings. “If anyone--or gods forbid, the king— found out my role in your ‘disappearances’ they’ll have my head! Or worse, my career!”

Charles smiled, the corners of his mouth stretched to the corner of his eyes in that charming way the ladies at court praised him for. “Oh don’t be such a worrywart, Gwyn. I’m a prince; nothing is going to happen to you while I’m around.”

“No, of course not. But what if you’re not around because you died or got kidnapped, and the king found out and arrested me for treason. I’ll be a traitor, a criminal! Then I’ll never be able to finish my apprenticeship because I’ll be rotting in a cell and no healer would ever take a prisoner as an apprenticeship because— “

“Gwyn.”

“Shut up?”

“Good lad.”

The Witch sighed, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I get it. You want to go out, but you have to understand that this—” he waved his hands around— “thing isn’t just affecting you.”

As you can see, I’m absolutely shitty at dialogue.

That last bit of conversation (the shut up part) was actually inspired by the dynamic between Prince Arthur and Merlin in BBC’s Merlin, though a more tone-downed version because Gwyn is very much a law-abiding/respect your betters type boy.

-----

Fun Fact: I wrote the entirety of Ch. 5 on a plane during the start of my vacation and haven’t touched it since, except for doing a few read-throughs. I’m probably going to end up changing a lot of this by the time I finish the chapter.

Also, how do 12/13-year-olds talk????? Like? They sound so formal in my wip? But that makes me see them as a lot older than they actually are which really goes against my “timeline”?? Maybe it’s the cause of a strict upper-class education and a sheltered childhood...yeah...

That’s all I have written so far. The next scene I have planned introduces Fenice’s secondary antagonist, Queen Kathleen? Adelaide? Elizandra? god she’s gone through so many names I give up

-----

Here’s a dialogue snippet I’ll be writing/expanding soon:

“Mother?”

“Yes, dearest.”

“What’s a deadborn?”

“Someone you should be grateful for.”

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Taglist (Message me if you want to be added/removed): @schwarzekatze1999​

@aloonycynic​

That’s all for now folks! I’m still trying to figure out where I want this chapter to go, but I think I’m getting close. It’s going to be a bit difficult to continue writing through with school just around the corner, so I’ll be praying for some time and motivation to push me along. Either way, I’m pretty happy with how some of the scenes turned out :)

Signing off!

-Maddie

[nebulous-frog]

The Prince and His Helper Ch. 3 (Finale)

Summary: Dan and Phil work together at Disney World. Dan is Prince Eric’s handler, and, well, let’s just say you never see Phil and Prince Eric in the same place at the same time. Dan really likes Phil. He’s been known to get a little jealous at the most idiotic of times, but his heart’s in the right place.

Part One Part Two

Word count: 11,382 (this chapter- 17,212 overall)

Rating: G

Warnings: Some swearing, food mentions

Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, First Date

Author’s Note: It's finally here! Thank you so much for your patience :) Massive thank-you to @imnotinclinedtomaturity​, without whom this fic probably wouldn't exist and it certainly wouldn't be this good. 

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

Dan was really excited.

He was on his way to Phil’s actual house to pick Phil up for an actual date.

Dan was about to go on a date with a Disney prince and real-life angel named Phil. How his heart hadn’t yet fallen out of his ass from the sheer power of emotion, Dan wasn’t sure. Phil was literally Dan’s ideal man. And Phil had agreed to go on a date with him. As excited as Dan was, he was equally filled with anxiety at everything that could go wrong.

Don’t fuck it up, Dan.

On the drive over to Phil’s house, Dan worried that he had somehow gotten the wrong address, or that his phone’s GPS had sent him the wrong way, or that he’d be late to pick Phil up, or that Phil would have already left his house and moved back to England.

It was ridiculous, honestly, but Dan couldn’t help it. He really wanted this date to work out.

Every red light added to his stress. He kept glancing at the little clock in his car, watching the minutes pass. He was supposed to pick Phil up at 7am sharp, but the time ticked closer and closer, and Dan felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere closer to Phil’s house anytime soon. His nerves grew with every second that passed, and he found himself chewing on his lip in anticipation. He had done his best to leave his house with time to spare, but now that he was actually en route, he wasn’t sure he’d made it out the door in time.

He’ll be so disappointed if I’m late. Dan the Fuck-Up, as usual, can’t even be bothered to make it to a date on time. Classic-

“Arrived,” said the mechanical voice on Dan’s phone, interrupting Dan’s spiral of thoughts.

Dan pulled over in front of a small house. It looked like it might have been white, but Dan couldn’t be sure in the faint early morning light.

He anxiously checked the clock again. It was 7:06.

Bloody typical.

Phil had told Dan to text when he arrived, saying it would be easier than knocking on the door and waking up Phil’s housemates and suffering their persistent teasing. Dan didn’t waste any time grabbing his phone from the passenger’s seat and texting Phil. He didn’t want Phil to have to wait any longer than he already had.

Dan: im here

Phil’s response came within seconds, startling Dan.

He responded so fast, he must have been waiting. Dammit, Dan, why are you always late?! He’s probably mad about it.

He took a deep breath and opened the message.

Phil: gr8 gimme 2 secs i’ll b right there

Dan let out the breath he had been holding. Phil wasn’t mad. At least, Dan assumed so, since Phil said he was coming.

Nervously, Dan’s hands began dancing and tapping randomly on the steering wheel of his car.

He’s coming. Oh my god, the date is about to start. Oh my god.

He looked outside the window, anxiously watching the door of the house- but then he looked away to look at the road because watching the door meant actively waiting for Phil to exit his house, which was stressful in itself because it made him think about how much time was passing and how much time Phil had to change his mind and decide not to come on the date after all.

This date has to be perfect. If it’s not perfect, he won’t want to go on another date and you’ll end up alone and sad.

Dan noticed his leg was bouncing erratically from the nerves and forced himself to take a breath.

It’ll be okay. He wanted to go with you this time, so he clearly must like something about you. Just chill out.

Suddenly, the door to the house opened and Phil stepped out, turning and locking it behind him.

The nerves struck Dan again as Phil approached, manifesting in even more intense finger tapping. Phil’s hair was quiffed up off his forehead, and Dan ached to run his fingers through it. He wore a red plaid shirt, well-fitted to his broad shoulders and making his biceps pop. His black skinny jeans had rips in the knees, giving him a bit of an edgy aesthetic that Dan knew didn’t reflect Phil’s true nerdy, kind personality. Dan was intimidated as hell by Phil’s appearance. How could he look so put-together this early in the morning?? It literally was not fair, and Dan felt inadequate in his own ripped black skinny jeans and cherry blossom button-up. His leg started to vibrate again, and he rolled his eyes at himself.

Get it together, Dan.

They made eye contact through the windscreen, and Phil flashed Dan one of his absolutely adorable smiles. Dan’s heartbeat picked up even more at the sight, and he managed a small smile in return.

He’s so perfect.

Phil arrived at the passenger door and pulled the handle. The door didn’t open. Phil shot Dan a confused look through the window. His brows were furrowed, and there was a cute little wrinkle in the middle of his forehead. Phil pulled the handle again, then pouted up at Dan. His bottom lip was sticking out, and his eyebrows were lifting.

What? Why isn’t it ope- Oh.

Dan sheepishly flipped the “unlock” switch on the control panel next to his arm, then motioned for Phil to try again. This time, it worked, and Phil slid into the seat with a cheeky smile.

“And here I thought you were excited for this date,” Phil teased lightheartedly.

Shit! Now he thinks I don’t want this!

“No!” Dan exclaimed loudly, eyes wide and hands reaching out as if to grab Phil’s arm and keep him in the car.

Phil blinked, tilting his head to the side and furrowing his brow. Clearly, Dan had confused him again.

Dan winced at his own unending awkwardness, then backpedaled to try to salvage the conversation that had barely even begun, god, get it together, Dan.

“I am really excited for this date, Phil, you have no idea,” he began, refusing to look at Phil. “I’m just also really nervous-”

Phil’s giggle interrupted the beginnings of a rant that surely would make Dan feel much worse. “I’m kidding! I know you’re excited,” Phil laughed.

The fondness in Phil’s voice caused Dan to cautiously look at Phil out of the corner of his eye.

Sure enough, the fondest of smiles graced Phil’s lips. Dan could feel himself blushing, and he hoped Phil wouldn’t notice (but he was sure the color on his cheeks was glaringly obvious).

Slowly, Phil reached a tentative hand out to one of Dan’s, gently prying his white-knuckled grasp off the steering wheel to intertwine their fingers. Dan stared at their linked hands in wonder. Phil’s hand was a little smaller and a lot paler, but it looked perfect in Dan’s. Dan felt a clammy warmth coming from Phil’s palm, and he relaxed a little when he realized that must mean that Phil wasn’t feeling as confident as he seemed- at least Dan wasn’t alone in his nerves.

“And it’s okay that you’re nervous. I’m nervous, too.” Phil leaned in closer to Dan to whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, you’re really cute when you blush.”

Dan figured that Phil would probably think Dan was “really cute” most of the date, then, because he couldn’t seem to get his cheeks to calm down. If anything, he was pretty sure his cheeks were getting even more red.

Flustered, Dan didn’t know what to say in response, so he just looked back at the road, shaking his head in slight disbelief.

I don’t know how he could think I’m cute when he’s obviously the cutest person in the universe.

Dan swallowed nervously. “We should- uh- get going. The whole point of getting up before daylight was to get there early, right?” Dan said, deciding to ignore Phil’s comment entirely.

Phil shrugged and leaned back in his seat, releasing Dan’s hand so he could drive.

He carefully checked that the road was clear before pulling into the lane.

Although his eyes were trained on the street, Dan could practically feel Phil’s self-satisfied grin. He couldn’t help the blush that just wouldn’t go away, not when he knew Phil was smiling because of him.

That cute bitch. God, I’m a mess.

Phil must have sensed Dan’s current inability to converse like a proper human being, and decided to take pity on him because he took charge of the conversation.

“I’ve always loved Disney.” Phil said thoughtfully. “I was definitely that kid who sat inside all day rewatching The Lion King until my parents couldn’t stand it anymore.” He chuckled at himself, then continued. “I think they eventually broke the tape on purpose.”

Dan pictured it - a tiny Phil sat in front of a shitty ‘90s television, dressed in absolutely horrendous ‘90s fashion, and singing along at the top of his lungs. He was probably dreadfully off-key even then.

He laughed at the mental image, glancing over at Phil as if trying to picture this adult man in the same situation. “That sounds cute as fuck, Phil,” he said through the laugh.

“Does it really?” Phil asked, sounding surprised. ”Seems a bit annoying, if you ask me. My parents certainly thought so,” Phil mused.

Dan shook his head, and snuck another glance at Phil.

“Definitely cute as fuck,” Dan adamantly assured Phil. He was almost offended that anyone could be annoyed with Phil. “And you know what, The Lion King is amazing, so we are gonna sing it right now, on the way to Disney, because we are adults and no one can stop us,” he declared.

Shit, what if he doesn’t want to, though?

Dan quickly side-eyed Phil, saying, “You know, if you want, that is. We don’t have to.”

But Dan’s concern was unnecessary, as Phil was already grinning and pulling out his phone to find the soundtrack.

“You’ve done it now, Howell. The offer has been made and there’s no going back,” Phil said just as “The Circle of Life” began to play from his phone.

“Naaaaaaans lasagna baby itsy baby!” Phil sang along loudly. He was extremely pitchy, but he didn’t seem to care.

“What the fuck, Phil!” Dan yelled through a hyena laugh. “Those so aren’t the lyrics, oh my god!”

Phil ignored him and continued to sing, moving to the background chorus “lyrics”: “It’s a llama, penguin and a llama. It’s a llama, penguin and a llama.”

Dan laughed harder, doing his best to keep his attention primarily focused on the road.

He’s having so much fun with this. I bet it’d make him happy if I sing like that, too.

Dan would do pretty much anything to make Phil smile, so he joined in, singing, “It’s a llama, penguin and a llama” just as loudly and carelessly as Phil.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could see Phil turn his head to look at him. Dan felt himself absolutely melting under the fond giddiness in Phil’s gaze.

Today’s gonna be such a good day.

They spent a majority of the drive singing along to various Disney songs, sticking to The Lion King at first but expanding to some of their other Disney favorites like Mulan (Dan loved singing his dramatic rendition of “Reflection”) and The Little Mermaid (they couldn’t not. Phil was Prince Eric, after all).

“So, I told you what my favorite Disney movie growing up was, now it’s your turn,” Phil began as the last note of “Under the Sea” faded away. “What did your poor parents have to put up with?”

Dan blushed, his eyes darting over to glance at Phil. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

Phil scoffed. “Impossible. I’m sure it’s perfectly endearing.” Dan shook his head but Phil continued, sounding almost petulant. “Either way, you have to tell me because I already told you mine.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but gave in. Phil could probably make him give into anything. “Okay, fine. My favorite Disney cartoon was Winnie the Pooh. It’s lit-tra-ly why I have such a posh accent.”

“Awwwwww, I love Winnie the Pooh!” Phil cooed. “He wasn’t my favorite, but he was so wonderful.”

Dan glanced over, surprised by Phil’s enthusiastic reaction. Phil was already staring back at him with a small, fond smile.

Just as Dan was about to speak up, maybe change the subject because he still felt a bit embarrassed, Phil spoke again. “You know, I’m not all that surprised your favorite was Winnie the Pooh. You kind of remind me of him, in a way,” he said thoughtfully.

Dan smiled, but couldn’t keep the confusion out of his expression, his head tilting to the side slightly and his eyebrows furrowing.

“I really remind you of Winnie the Pooh?” Dan asked, baffled.

In his peripheral vision, Dan caught a glimpse of Phil. Phil was staring out the window like he was deep in thought, scrunching up his eyebrows slightly.

“Yeah,” Phil answered. “You’ve got this kind of calm chillness about you, but I still know you’ll work hard to get what you want. Like, you work for what you care about but still take it easy every now and then, if that makes sense. And you seem to care a lot about your friends, which is very Pooh.”

There was a thoughtfulness and sincerity to his voice that caught Dan off guard. How does he know that about me already? Does he really pay that much attention? Warmth filled Dan as he considered that maybe Phil liked him as much as he liked Phil.

But then Phil grinned, continuing cheekily, “But I’m pretty sure what you want usually isn’t a pot of honey.”

Dan let out a snort. “Most of that was actually very perceptive of you,” he replied fondly, glancing over at Phil with a soft smile.

Phil shrugged. “No, not really. It’s not that hard to recognize that you’ve never taken a pot of honey to work,” he tried to say casually, but he couldn’t quite keep the amusement from his voice.

Dan groaned and rolled his eyes, but he laughed affectionately. “You’re such a dork!”

“Your mum’s a dork!” Phil retorted in a faux-defensive tone.

“Oi, you leave my mum out of this!” Dan laughed, reaching over to poke Phil’s leg.

The conversation dissolved into laughter and more meaningless, but fun, banter. Dan lost track of the time, his brain in autopilot as he drove them the rest of the way to Disney, and he found himself almost sad when they arrived. The drive had gone so well, what if things got awkward when they were wandering around?

Dan’s worry didn’t last long, however, as Phil continued to talk just as he had in the car. As they walked into the park, they made a quick list of rides they had to go on, and then they were off.

Creepy dolls sang “It’s a Small World” to them (Phil regretted that suggestion; he told Dan he definitely gave himself nightmare material for weeks), they journeyed through the Caribbean with cunning pirates to find Spanish gold, and they took a tour through Neverland. Each ride had a long enough line that they could talk for a short while, but they didn’t feel like they were wasting the day just waiting around.

Big Thunder Mountain Railroad was definitely Phil’s favorite. He made Dan go on it three times in a row. And because Phil just looked too adorable when he was excited (his eyes lit up as he smiled and bounced on the balls of his feet, insisting they had to go go go again right now, it’s so fun!), Dan couldn’t say no. Plus, it was kind of a small cart and they were rather tall. Dan wasn’t about to give up the chance to be squished into Phil’s side.

They wandered into Liberty Square for lunch. Dan had timed it perfectly, because it was just before a parade was supposed to begin. He thought Phil might enjoy seeing the characters and hearing the music as a guest rather than an employee for once, since he was always so excited about the magic of Disney. Dan loved it when the magic would excite Phil; Phil’s inner child would shine through, lighting up his face and making him giggle in wonder.

“We have to go to Sleepy Hollow,” Dan insisted as he pointed to the restaurant with one hand, excitedly tapping Phil’s arm with his other. “They have the best damn chicken and waffles you will ever have in your life, and there’s a little picnic area so we can watch the parade go by.”

“I’m more of a pancakes man, to be honest,” Phil said dubiously. “But I’ll trust you.” He flashed Dan a wide smile.

“These are so much more than a breakfast food, Phil, they are art. They make sandwiches out of the waffle and put this spicy chicken inside and-” Dan moaned theatrically- “I can’t explain it, it’s just so good.”

“Okay, okay, lead the way!” Phil conceded, and gestured for Dan to go ahead of him. Dan reached behind him and pulled Phil after him by the forearm as he hurriedly made his way into the restaurant.

Phil let Dan pick his waffle for him, and then took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey, no, put that away!” Dan insisted, pushing Phil’s arm down. “I asked you out, so I’m paying.”

“But-” Phil started, his hand still reaching into his wallet.

“Nope.” Dan lightly hip-checked Phil out of the way and handed his card over to the cashier. “I’ve got this, okay?” He turned to look at Phil again to see him rolling his eyes, which worried him until he noticed Phil’s small smile.

“You’re ridiculous, but okay.” Phil gave Dan’s shoulder a mini shove to retaliate for the hip-check.

A few minutes later, they retrieved the waffles and sat down at a table near the edge of the patio so they could see the parade when it came.

“Are you ready for your life to change dramatically?” Dan asked seriously as they each picked up their waffle sandwiches.

“Well, now I’m a little scared. That’s a lot of pressure riding on this one sandwich,” Phil teased. He eyed the sandwich skeptically, eyes narrowed in distrust.

“It’s deserved, believe me,” Dan said. “Come on, then. I’m waiting for your reaction.” Dan leaned in closer and stared at Phil eagerly, holding his breath.

Phil eyed his sandwich with a curious expression - part wary and part excited - before he leaned in, opened his mouth wide, and took a big bite.

He seemed to consider for a moment, and then his eyes widened comically. He looked at Dan with pure wonder on his face. His lips were tilting up into a smile, even though his mouth was full of food.

“I know,” Dan said, nodding seriously.

“How - it’s - oh my god,” Phil groaned around his bite of food.

“I know,” Dan laughed. He leaned back in his seat, relieved at Phil’s reaction. “You like it, then?”

Phil nodded vigorously, already going in for another bite.

Dan laughed again, then took a bite of his own sandwich and moaned at the flavor.

“It’s really spicy but it’s so good,” Phil managed when he finally swallowed. He chugged a few gulps of water, then dove back into the sandwich.

Dan felt a strange sense of pride well up in him. Phil had trusted Dan’s suggestion and it paid off brilliantly.

Just then, the front of the parade passed by their seating area. The magic of seeing the characters wasn’t as strong for Dan or Phil now that they’ve done parades and meet and greets before, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying it. Mickey Mouse waved at them, and Phil squealed in delight.

“Hi, Mickey!” he called excitedly, bouncing in his seat a bit and waving his arm wildly.

He’s so precious, oh my god.

“Mickey Mouse waved at me, Dan! I feel special,” Phil exclaimed, looking at Dan with the gleeful excitement of a child.

“You are,” Dan said softly. His body was frozen, his hands half-raised to his mouth with the last few bites of his waffle sandwich, but his eyes wandered Phil’s face, taking in the joy and giddiness. Phil’s happiness was infectious, and Dan found himself smiling affectionately at this excitable man who had somehow agreed to go on a date with Dan, of all people.

Phil’s face flushed, and he broke eye contact for a moment to look down at his food tray, then cautiously looked back up at Dan through his lashes. Dan felt a fresh surge of affection as he saw how bashful Phil got at the compliment.

They stared at each other silently for a moment, faces turning redder by the second, until Dan cleared his throat.

“So, uh, you liked the waffle, then?” He pointed at the sticky mess left on the tray where Phil’s sandwich used to be.

Phil nodded. “Life-changing, as advertised. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Dan replied. He cleared his throat again. “So, after the parade crowd clears out a bit, do you wanna go to the Haunted Mansion?”

“Definitely,” Phil agreed.

It didn’t take long for the crowd to disperse once the parade ended, and then Dan and Phil were off to find the Haunted Mansion.

On the way, they encountered a traffic jam where some families were apparently meeting a character. A huge crowd of people stood in the way, blocking the whole path. Dan felt a twinge of sympathy for the handler, knowing how hard it could be to keep a crowd under control, especially in walkways. As a handler, he hated when people tried to force their way through, but he was a man on a mission. He’d just try not to be too aggressive.

“I’m gonna go for it,” Dan decided, already sending mental apologies to the handler. “Stay close?”

Phil nodded, and Dan pushed himself into the small gaps between people with Phil on his heels.

Except Phil wasn’t quite as on-his-heels as he expected. Dan had moved a little too fast for Phil to keep up in such a cramped space. A hand grasped onto Dan’s wrist, and he jumped, glancing back quickly to see Phil’s arm outstretched.

Phil’s basically holding my hand. It’s fine, nothing to worry about. Totally cool over here. It’s all good.

They finally broke free of the crowd and could stand next to each other again. Dan expected Phil to drop his wrist now that they had room to maneuver, but he didn’t. Instead, Phil’s hand slid down to lace their fingers together.

Dan’s heart beat faster, and he stared down at their clasped hands. Be cool, Dan, he’s just holding your hand.

“Is this okay?” Phil asked tentatively.

Dan’s head snapped up to make eye contact. Phil was blushing and looked like he was making a concerted effort not to hide his face.

“Hm? The hands? Yes, that’s fine. It’s - it’s great. Perfect, really.” Dan fumbled, flustered.

I said be cool, that is not being cool.

Phil’s free hand rose up to cover his mouth slightly, trying to hide a giggle, but the crows feet around his eyes gave him away.

“Nooooo, don’t laugh at me!” Dan whined.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said through his laughter. “You’re just too adorable.”

Dan’s cheeks were definitely bright red by now. “Shut up,” he grumbled. He stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

“Awwww,” Phil cooed. “You’re really not making me think you’re less adorable, if that was the goal.”

Dan let out an exaggerated huff and walked slightly ahead of Phil - just far enough ahead to keep up his dramatic charade, but close enough that they could still hold hands.

They arrived at the Haunted Mansion line and worked their way to the front. Along the way, Dan and Phil took turns reading out all of the silly tombstones of the dead residents. Every so often, Phil would laugh at one of the funny ways of dying and say, “That’s you.”

On the ride itself, Dan cozied up to Phil as much as he dare. The seats were much bigger than Big Thunder Railroad and he - unfortunately - didn’t have to squish into Phil’s side in order to fit. He didn’t want to drape himself all over Phil, but he wanted to be as close as was reasonably possible, so he settled for sitting close enough that their sides touched from shoulder to knee.

Is this too much? Is he uncomfortable? Oh, god, this was a mistake, wasn’t it.

But then Phil’s foot bumped Dan’s, nudging it gently before hooking his ankle around Dan’s.

Dan looked at Phil, happy to know that apparently Phil wanted to be close just as much as Dan, but Phil was steadfastly observing the other side of their cart. Dan rolled his eyes fondly and relaxed into the chair.

Their cart turned a corner, and the ride properly began.

Some of the spooks startled Phil throughout the ride, and Dan laughed at him for it.

“Really, Phil? How didn’t you expect that to pop up?” Dan would tease, squeezing Phil’s hand briefly.

“Shhhh, I just wasn’t paying enough attention!” Phil would reply, squeezing right back.

About halfway through the ride, the cart spun around and began descending a sharp hill backwards. Gravity squished Dan and Phil to the middle of the seat, right up against each other.

Dan breathed in sharply as their bodies pressed together even more than they already had been, and he quickly looked over at Phil’s face. Phil was already looking at him, blushing heavily.

“Hi,” Phil whispered shyly. He flexed his fingers around Dan’s before squeezing gently.

Equally shyly, Dan squeezed Phil’s hand and whispered, “Hi.”

When the cart straightened out, neither of them made any effort to readjust to sit farther away from the other. Dan felt his heart soar when he realized that meant Phil wanted to be close to him, too.

Not long after, the ride came to an end. Phil let go of Dan’s hand to climb out of the cart, then reached back to offer his hand as a support as Dan followed.

“How gentlemanly,” Dan commented with a slight quirk of his lips. Inside, he was gushing about how sweet Phil was and how much he loved the feeling of the soft skin of Phil’s hand against his own. He worried Phil would let go of his hand as soon as he got off the ride, but Phil only adjusted his grip to interlock their fingers again. He brushed his thumb over Dan’s knuckles, and butterflies erupted in Dan’s stomach.

As they left the Haunted Mansion set, they debated where to go next.

Phil’s vote was the Winnie the Pooh ride.

“Come on, it’s such a cute one! Besides, you said you loved Pooh!” Phil eagerly suggested.

Dan laughed and let Phil pull him across the park to the ride.

He wants to make me happy so much. I’m supposed to be making sure we go on rides he likes but he’s over here pushing me to do something for personal nostalgia’s sake. He’s so sweet.

Fortunately, the line wasn’t too long, so they passed through the interactive buttons and animatronics until they made it to the carts.

They had to drop their hands to climb into the carts, much to Dan’s annoyance, but he relaxed when Phil sat down probably closer than was strictly necessary.

Phil leaned in to whisper in Dan’s ear, “Will you hold my hand if I get scared?”

Dan let out a loud laugh, turning his head to look at Phil.

“It’s just Winnie the Pooh, so I doubt that’ll be a problem.” His hand found Phil’s anyway as the ride began to move, already desperate for the comforting warmth and the accompanying rush of giddy excitement that Dan was beginning to associate with holding Phil’s hand. Dan felt a grin breaking out on his face, playing it off as excitement for Winnie the Pooh. He looked around at the walls, quickly reading the giant storybook page that set up the story for the ride.

Just before they entered the ride, Dan looked back at Phil with a soft smile and quietly admitted, “I like holding your hand, even if you aren’t scared.”

Phil bit his lip around a giddy smile, and Dan’s heart just about melted at the sight.

“Oi, you’ll miss the ride if you keep looking at me,” Phil complained, nudging Dan’s elbow with his own.

“Mmm, but I really like looking at you. Especially when I get you to blush like that,” Dan teased, nudging Phil’s shoulder playfully. He relented, though, deciding to enjoy the ride as Phil insisted.

It wasn’t a particularly thrilling ride, by any means. There were a few jerky turns and wobbles, but no dips or spins, and the pace was fairly slow. They both giggled as the ride bounced up and down, mimicking Tigger’s bouncing.

Dan loved it anyway, partly because of the nostalgia of Winnie the Pooh and partly because of how into it Phil was. He never was actually scared, but he pretended to be when they came to the section of Heffalumps and Woozles, squeezing Dan’s hand harder and bringing his other arm to hug Dan’s. Phil’s head came to rest on Dan’s shoulder, and Dan went perfectly still.

Oh my god. He’s so precious. Don’t move, Dan, or he’ll move.

Luckily, it seemed that Phil had no intention of moving away from Dan for the rest of the ride. He stayed snuggled up to Dan’s arm for the last few minutes of the story, then reluctantly detached himself as their cart came to the end.

“That was a great idea, Phil. I’m glad you dragged me over here,” Dan said happily as they exited the track area. He couldn’t get the dopey smile off his face.

Phil gasped, ignoring Dan entirely in favor of pointing to the alcove next to the ride and tugging on their still-clasped hands.

“Look! Tigger and Pooh are there for photos!” He turned to Dan, expression extremely serious. “We have to go get pictures with them.”

Dan was on the verge of saying no. They most likely knew whoever it was in the costumes, so some of the magic was already missing from the experience. Besides, it would definitely be weird if two awkwardly tall adult men got in line to meet Winnie the Pooh.

But Phil looked so excited and happy, Dan couldn’t find it in himself to decline. Instead, he sighed in mock exasperation and gestured for Phil to lead the way.

Phil’s face lit up even more, making Dan smile and shake his head fondly.

He’s such a dork. I love that he’s so willing to let himself be a kid at Disney. He really makes the magic come to life.

The line to meet Pooh and Tigger was significantly longer than the line for the ride had been, so they occupied their time by sharing anecdotes about their childhood experiences. Phil had several stories about the crazy things he did or believed as a kid, like how he thought the “D” in the Disney logo was actually a “G” or how crowds cheering at football matches scared him to the point of tears.

(Dan, of course, found this very endearing and jokingly promised he would never cheer at a football match in front of Phil.)

In exchange, Dan told Phil a few stories about some of his more embarrassing failures and awkward moments growing up, like how he got fired from his last job for selling an axe to a twelve-year-old.

Finally, they made it to the front of the line and got to meet Tigger and Pooh. They each got to hug both characters, much to Phil’s delight. Before they took the picture, they also got to “talk” with the animals. Neither character could actually say anything, but Tigger had some very articulate gestures.

He looked at Dan, then pointed back and forth between Dan and Phil, who was having an animated conversation with Pooh and completely unaware of the attention. Dan wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought maybe Tigger had caught on to their affection. Sure enough, Tigger placed both hands over his heart and tilted his head.

Blushing, Dan laughed. “Yeah, we’re here on a date,” he confirmed in a low voice, trying not to attract Phil’s attention away from where he talked with Pooh. It wasn’t that the date was a secret, Dan just felt a little self-conscious that he was talking to one of his childhood idols - and probably coworkers, honestly - about a date.

Tigger gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up - or at least the closest thing he could get to a thumbs up in his costume. He took Dan’s hand to guide him to Phil, made them hold hands, then moved to stand on the other side of Phil. Pooh stood next to Dan, and they were ready for pictures.

Dan and Phil both blushed profusely at Tigger’s antics, even though they’d already been holding hands all day. It was just a different experience when someone else noticed their feelings and nudged them together, showing Dan that maybe they did work well together. Plus, Dan realized that he was about to actually take a picture while holding hands with Phil, which would immortalize this perfect moment.

They took a few nice pictures with Pooh and Tigger, then bade them goodbye and left the meeting spot, still hand-in-hand.

“That was amazing! Tigger saw right through us, didn’t he?” Phil chuckled.

“He definitely did,” Dan agreed. He swung their clasped hands around slightly, enjoying the sensation of the contact. Casually, he added, “I wonder if it’s anybody we know today… We’ll definitely be hearing about this at work later.”

“Shhhh!” Phil clapped a hand over Dan’s mouth. “That’s Tigger, not somebody we know!” he scolded, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Dan rolled his eyes and smiled under Phil’s hand. “Of course, how could I ever forget,” he deadpanned, though it came out warbled and muffled.

Phil narrowed his eyes at Dan suspiciously, then nodded once. “I don’t know what you said, but I’ll take it as an apology. No more ruining the magic, right?”

Dan sighed dramatically, then nodded.

Letting out a satisfied hum, Phil dropped his hand from Dan’s mouth and looking around at their surroundings. His eyes landed on the gift shop for Winnie the Pooh, and he immediately started pulling Dan towards it. “I just had the best idea!”

“I’m not sure I like where you’re going with this, love, the look on your face screams mischief,” Dan said warily.

Did I just call him “love”? Oh shit, it is definitely too soon for pet names like that. Shit, that was too much.

But Phil didn’t comment on it. If anything, his smile got wider as he mercilessly tugged Dan along.

“Shh, trust me! This will be amazing, I promise.” Phil sounded particularly excited about this idea of his.

When they entered the shop, Phil made straight for the back wall. He let go of Dan’s hand to pick up two Mickey Mouse ear hats, one Tigger and one Pooh.

“I’m buying these and we’ll match for the rest of the day,” Phil declared adamantly, sounding like he’d already made up his mind.

Dan blinked in shock, glancing quickly from Phil to the hats and back again. “Um, what? Phil, those are, like, $30 each. I can’t let you get them for both of us on a date I asked you to, that would be ungentlemanly!” he exclaimed.

Phil giggled. “You think I care about that? You’ve already been such a gentleman so far. You bought lunch and everything! Besides, I want to get them. It was my idea, anyway, it’s only right I pay for them. Plus, you’re forgetting that we get a cast member discount, silly. Come on, please?” Phil stuck out his bottom lip and opened his eyes wider in a puppy pout.

Dan hesitated, momentarily distracted by how endearing that expression was, before contemplating the issue at hand. He didn’t want to push it too much and make it seem like he thought Phil couldn’t afford the hats or something, but he also didn’t want to make Phil pay for them.

Although, he’s right - it was his idea. Surely he wouldn’t have suggested it if he wasn’t willing and expecting to pay for them…

“Alright, fine,” Dan relented. “You can buy us the hats, but I’m buying dinner.”

“You already paid for lunch, though!” Phil exclaimed with a tone. “It’s really not necessary-”

“But I want to treat you,” Dan mumbled sheepishly, tugging gently on Phil’s hand. He looked up at Phil through his lashes as he continued, “I want you to feel special today, you know? This should all be about you.”

Dan’s free hand reached up and brushed some of Phil’s drooping quiff off his forehead, eventually resting his hand on Phil’s cheek.

Phil nuzzled into Dan’s hand slightly, looking a little conflicted for a moment.

“Oh, alright then, if you insist. You can pay for dinner later. But right now, I’m going to get these hats and make everyone jealous of our relationship,” Phil announced with a flare.

Relationship? Does that mean he wants to be boyfriends? Is it too early for that? I mean… I think I want that, but does he? I know we’re still only on the first date, but this feels so natural that it would just make sense to make it official, wouldn’t it?

Dan decided to tuck the questions away for now, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat as he followed closely behind Phil to the registers.

Phil quickly paid and picked up the hats from the counter, turning to face Dan.

“Alright, then, let’s see it on you. May I?” Phil asked, gesturing towards Dan’s head with the Pooh hat and smiling.

My hair is going to hate this…

Dan leaned forward in answer, presenting his head for Phil. Phil slowly fixed the hat over Dan’s head, placing the chin strap under his chin to secure it in place. He reached up and messed with his hair, carefully pulling out a few strands from under the hat. Usually, Dan wouldn’t let anyone fix his hair for him because he alone knew how to make it look good, but he didn’t complain as Phil fluffed the exposed ends. Somehow, he felt like he could trust Phil to do it right. After a lingering moment, Phil pulled his hands away, and Dan tilted his head back up so Phil could inspect the results.

He inhaled sharply and stared at Dan with an unreadable expression.

“What? Does it look weird?” Dan asked, suddenly nervous. He took out his phone to use the camera as a mirror.

It actually wasn’t too bad; his hair was definitely more of a mess now, but he actually looked fairly good with the hat.

Dan looked back up to see Phil still staring at him, now with a beaming smile.

Dan blushed at the attention, and Phil cooed.

“I knew this would be a good idea. You look fantastic,” Phil assured Dan, reaching up a hand again and gently brushing his fingers through the visible floof of hair poking out from under the hat.

“Thank you,” Dan mumbled, feeling the blush continue to burn on his cheeks.

Phil smiled brightly at him, then dropped his hand from Dan’s hair.

“My turn!” Phil thrust the Tigger hat towards Dan’s hand, then tilted his head down so Dan could put the hat on him.

Dan stretched the elastic over Phil’s chin and pushed the hat back onto Phil’s head. He brushed his fingers through Phil’s quiff to make sure his hair wouldn’t look weird, marvelling at the softness for a moment, then removed his hands.

Phil’s head tilted back up, and he was grinning, and his face was so close to Dan’s that, for a moment, Dan’s brain short-circuited.

“Thank you,” Phil giggled.

The giggle was enough to pull Dan’s brain back together in a flurry of thoughts.

Great, my cheeks are going to be permanently pink around Phil, apparently. It doesn’t help that he looks unfairly pretty in that Tigger hat with his stupid gorgeous quiff poking out just a little and he looks so excited and happy and wait what did he say again? Was I supposed to respond? Oh yeah -

“You’re welcome,” Dan awkwardly said a few beats too late.

Phil giggled again, not seeming to care about Dan’s awkwardness, then reached into his pocket for his phone.

“Let’s take a selfie, immortalize the moment,” Phil suggested.

Oh my god, yes. We are too cute, and I need a picture of Phil looking like this so I can look back on this moment and absolutely melt. He looks so happy.

“I’ll take it, if you want. I’ve mastered the perfect selfie angle with my noodle arms,” Dan joked, stepping closer to Phil.

Dan expected Phil to just stand next to him, but apparently Phil was in the mood to murder Dan because he stood closer than he really had to for the picture and then reached out an arm to wrap it around Dan’s waist.

Dan’s selfie arm faltered briefly at the sensation of Phil’s warm arm on his body. He barely bit back a surprised squeak, since he knew that would make Phil think he was uncomfortable and he’d move his arm. That was the last thing Dan wanted. Phil’s half-embrace felt so strong and comforting and safe, Dan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to survive when Phil eventually moved.

“Ready?” Dan asked, voice a little shaky.

“Yee!” Phil replied.

Dan snapped a few photos, changing the angle slightly to try to capture the perfect shot. Normally, for a picture like this, he would give a half-smile, or maybe a smirk, but right now? There was no way he could keep the ridiculous grin from his face.

And then Phil turned his head and kissed Dan right on the cheek as Dan snapped a picture. Dan’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock.

Did he just - he’s still - oh my god. Oh my GOD. Okay, okay, okay, shhhhh, calm down before he gets weird about it, come on, get it together, Dan.

A flaming red blush spread across Dan’s cheeks and his mouth spread in a face-splitting grin for the last few pictures Dan took. Butterflies zoomed around his stomach like they were trying to escape, and a few seemed to find their way out as giggles. A few of the giggles erupted from Dan’s throat, and he covered his mouth with his hand to prevent any more from escaping

Dan wasn’t sure what to say as Phil pulled away from his cheek. He wasn’t even sure where to look. He could still feel Phil’s strong arm around his waist, and it made thinking difficult. His thoughts swirled wildly as he tried to figure out what to do. Should he look at Phil and let him see how Dan was still reeling? Should he run away? Should he act like nothing happened and look at the pictures? And would he ever stop grinning like a madman?

He opted for sending Phil a shy, happy glance, then pretending like nothing had happened (which was a little hard to do around his grin, but he tried to ignore that detail). He cleared his throat and looked at his phone, opening the photos app and scrolling through the selfies he took.

“There’s probably at least one good one in here,” Dan said to distract himself. He looked through the pictures, quickly skimming past the ones where Phil was kissing him to find the first photos.

“Wait - Phil! You’re not even looking at the phone in any of these!” Dan exclaimed, looking over at his date in mock irritation.

Phil was already looking at him with a fond smile. “Of course I’m not looking at the phone. How could I, when you’re here in front of me?” he asked softly. His face was open and honest, and the fond smile twitched until it grew into a full grin.

Dan’s cheeks darkened again. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a sort of strangled, “Oh.”

Phil giggled, his tongue poking through his teeth.

How does he keep getting more and more adorable, oh my god. This man will be the death of me.

Phil’s arm dropped from around Dan’s waist, much to Dan’s disappointment.

“Come on! We’ve got more rides to go on!” Phil reminded him gleefully.

He quickly re-discovered Dan’s hand (making butterflies zoom around in his stomach again) and began pulling him out of the shop again, already going on about how he wanted to go on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad again.

Dan shook his head fondly, but followed Phil anyway.

A few hours later, they had ridden all Phil’s favorites another time as well as the Winnie the Pooh ride, this time with their Pooh and Tigger ear hats, and they realized they were both starving.

They meandered over to Pinocchio’s Village Haus for a quick dinner (Phil got chicken nuggets, which Dan found endearing as hell), and then headed back out for a few more roller coasters before they had to find a spot for the fireworks.

“Phil, I know you love the roller coasters, but we really have to go pick our place to watch the fireworks!” Dan laughed, tugging Phil’s arm to get him to stay out of the line for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. “Besides, we’ve already been on this one three times. Haven’t you had enough?”

“You can never have too many pirates, Pooh!” Phil exclaimed excitedly. He tugged right back on Dan’s arm in a desperate attempt to return to the Pirates ride.

Dan rolled his eyes in exasperation. “But the whole point of coming here was to show you the fireworks!” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout and batted his eyes at Phil. “Pwease, Phiw?”

“Awwww, now that’s just cheating,” Phil whined. He pouted in return, but Dan wasn’t having it.

Dan jutted his bottom lip out even further, and Phil cracked.

“Oh, alright then,” Phil sighed. “Lead the way.”

A smug grin made its way onto Dan’s lips. “That’s what I thought. Follow me, my liege,” Dan said with a mock bow. He took a great deal of joy in the soft giggle he heard Phil make.

When Phil had agreed to the date, Dan had immediately made sure to reserve them a spot in front of Cinderella’s Castle, where the view would be best. They headed to that area now, waiting for an attendant to allow them into the reserved section directly in front of the castle.

Even though it was still light out, there was a long line of people waiting to get into the reserved area, so Dan and Phil took their place at the back and hunkered down to wait.

“So, where do the fireworks come from, again? Like, which way should I be looking?” Phil asked, inspecting the area around them as if he expected a firework to go off any moment.

“There’s a whole song and show and everything that’ll be around the Castle,” Dan told him.

Phil nodded absentmindedly, still looking around the park.

Dan took the quiet moment to appreciate the memories of the day. He thought about how excited Phil had been that morning, and how happy Phil had been when he learned that Dan loved Winnie the Pooh, and how insistent Phil was about the Winnie the Pooh-themed hats they were both still wearing. Dan thought about how good and right the whole day had felt, with the never-ending conversation and playful flirting and hand-holding. God, the handholding. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his hand gently clutched by Phil’s. Sometimes, Phil would run his thumb over Dan’s knuckles, sending all coherent thought flying desperately from his brain and attracting all the blood to his cheeks, making it painfully obvious how much he adored Phil’s actions.

As they waited for the fireworks, Dan tentatively moved his own thumb over Phil’s hand, wondering if Phil would have a similar reaction to Dan. The blinding smile Phil sent Dan told him that yes, Phil liked that just as much as Dan.

Phil took a small step in so their sides were entirely pressed up against each other, then leaned in to be even closer.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered with a light smile. “Today’s been great.”

Dan beamed. The whole goal of the day had been to make Phil as happy as possible. He was proud to say that he firmly believed he had accomplished that goal, and they hadn’t even seen the fireworks yet.

“But you haven’t seen the fireworks yet. That was supposed to be the great part of the day,” Dan reminded him.

Phil laughed gently, reaching up his free hand to carefully cup Dan’s cheek. Dan’s heartbeat quickened as he subconsciously leaned into the touch.

“Oh, Dan,” Phil sighed happily. “The great part was spending time with you, no matter what we did.”

Phil’s thumb caressed Dan’s cheek, and Dan’s brain shorted out.

He- I- Great? My face? His hand? My god.

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, all Dan could think to say was a breathy, “Oh.”

Phil’s responding laugh brushed delicately against Dan’s face.

“Speechless, Howell? That’s surprising,” he teased. “I like seeing you all flustered. I’ll have to keep making it happen.” He winked at Dan in his special Phil way, where it’s more of a blink than a wink, then let go of Dan entirely and turned towards the line, which had finally moved forward to allow people into the reserved section.

Dan blinked in surprise.

What just happened? I didn’t even notice the line move. What is this boy doing to me?

He shook himself slightly, quickly catching up to Phil and re-clasping their hands.

Should I address what just happened? What would I even say? I’m not sure I know what happened, anyway.

Dan chanced a glance at Phil and saw a smirk playing at his lips.

That’s a dangerous smirk. He looks mischievous - he’s way too pleased with himself. It’s probably best if I just move on, before I make more of a fool of myself.

“Phil!” he began, louder than he expected. He winced internally, begging himself to be less awkward. Clearing his throat, he tried again, lowering his voice to a normal volume this time. “So, are you ready to see the most beautiful, captivating thing you will ever see?”

A full smirk formed on Phil’s face.

“I’ve already seen him. He’s actually somehow letting me hold his hand,” he said teasingly, swinging their hands pointedly.

Dan groaned, looking towards the heavens as if asking for God to come save him from this dork, but he couldn’t disguise his smile, nor his accompanying blush. “Oh, that was cheesy as hell. I walked right into it, too, didn’t I?” He looked back at Phil with a shake of his head.

“You certainly did.” Phil grinned, bumping Dan’s shoulder with his own. “And now you’re all blushy again, how adorable!”

“You’re a menace. A danger to society. Too pure for this world,” Dan deadpanned.

Phil snorted. “One of these things is not like the other.”

In a sing-song voice, Dan replied, “But all of them describe you perfectly.”

Phil bumped Dan’s shoulder again, harder this time. “Your mum’s a description.”

“What?!” Dan shrieked out in a hyena laugh. “That- that doesn’t even make sense!”

“Your mum doesn’t even-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Dan warned teasingly. “Leave my poor mum alone.” To make sure Phil didn’t take him too seriously, Dan squeezed his hand lightly. If his heart raced a little faster when Phil squeezed back, well, no one had to know.

“So, where are we going to watch the fireworks from?” Phil asked.

Dan hummed in thought, looking around the open area for a good spot. “How about right there?” He pointed to a place near the front of the section, but far enough back that they wouldn’t block everyone’s line of sight with their tallness.

“Perfect,” Phil agreed with a content nod.

Phil followed Dan to their spot. Once they got there, Dan hugged Phil’s arm with his own free arm and rested his head on Phil’s shoulder.

Dan looked up at Phil from his shoulder. “Is this okay?” Dan asked. He felt Phil nod.

“It’s perfect,” came Phil’s fond reply. Phil squeezed Dan’s hand once, then brushed his thumb over Dan’s knuckles again.

If he hadn’t been leaning on Phil already, Dan was sure he would’ve fallen over completely in a swoon. Phil somehow knew exactly what to do to make Dan unbelievably happy, and Dan was living for it.

For a few minutes, they stood in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence and the feeling of their bodies pressed together as they waited for the fireworks.

The lights around the crowd went out, and Cinderella’s Castle lit up.

“Is it starting?” Phil asked.

Dan resisted the urge to sass Phil, because honestly, what else could be happening? Disney shut down the park with everyone still in it?

Instead, he hummed quietly in affirmation and snuggled closer into Phil’s shoulder.

Music began, and the crowd was entranced. Oohs and Ahhs rang out in the plaza with every new animation and special effect. The lights and the music, combined with the magical experience that is spending a day at Disney World, always delivered a spectacular performance.

But Dan wasn’t really paying attention.

Dan was looking at Phil. Well, some would call it staring, but Dan couldn’t bring himself to care.

Phil’s expression was so relaxed, so happy. Every new piece to the show had him gasping in delight, a childlike wonder in his eyes. Dan couldn’t get enough of it.

And then Phil seemed to notice that Dan wasn’t watching the fireworks. He turned his head slightly, looking at Dan, who was still carefully resting on his shoulder despite the Pooh ears.

Normally, Dan would’ve been embarrassed to be caught staring, but all he could feel was an overwhelming affection for the man who had spent the whole day trying to make sure Dan had a good time, even though Dan was meant to be treating Phil.

A fond smile grew on Phil’s face as he and Dan got lost in each other’s gaze.

“Hi,” Phil whispered just loud enough to be heard over the fireworks and music. His free hand moved up and carded through Dan’s exposed fringe slowly, then came to rest on his cheek. His thumb delicately traced Dan’s cheekbone.

If he could, Dan would have purred at the gentle motion of Phil’s thumb. Instead, he sighed through his nose and leaned into the touch with a smile. He trailed his fingers along Phil’s forearm, appreciating how Phil shivered at the sensation. “Hi.”

Phil’s eyes quickly flickered over Dan’s face, and his smile grew. “You’re pretty,” he stated simply, as if it were just a fact that the whole world should know.

Dan turned to hide his face in Phil’s shoulder in embarrassment.

“You can’t just say things like that,” he whined. “They do weird things to me and make me feel all soft.”

Phil’s hand moved from caressing Dan’s face to rest comfortingly on Dan’s waist. “But it’s true! And I love seeing you blush when I tell you so.” Phil wiggled his elbow. “Come on, let me see your pretty face.”

Grumbling false complaints, Dan slowly lifted his head to look Phil in the eye.

“There it is,” Phil whispered adoringly. He shifted his hand up from Dan’s waist to gently cup his face, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb.

Dan felt his blush intensify and looked away for a moment to try to regain his composure. When he finally felt ready to look at Phil again, he found that Phil’s gaze moving slowly over his face, taking in every detail.

It was a whole new feeling. Dan had realized throughout the day that, yes, Phil did actually kind of like him, but the way Phil looked at him now was so much more - more even than just moments before. This was an intense gaze, which intimidated Dan a little, but mostly he was just overwhelmed with happiness at the brilliant realization that Phil liked him. Dan felt wanted in a way that stretched beyond just the physical, and he was overcome with emotion.

His eyes could no longer stay still on Phil’s. They trailed over his features, just as Phil’s were doing to him, and took in the sharp cheekbones, the beaked nose, the freckles and spots, the way his pink lips contrasted his pale skin. And then all he could look at were Phil’s lips. Their soft curve into Phil’s small half-smile, the way they pouted out slightly. They looked soft. Kissable.

Are they as soft as they look? Would he kiss me if I asked?

Dan somehow managed to pull his eyes up from Phil’s mouth to see his eyes instead. He wanted to know what Phil was thinking and know if he had any chance.

Phil was still looking at Dan’s face, but it seemed his sights were stuck on Dan’s mouth. Dan felt a shiver course through him when he thought of what Phil might be thinking. His shiver seemed to jolt Phil out of his thoughts, as his eyes snapped up to meet Dan’s.

They stood still. Dan’s thoughts were caught in a constant loop of kiss me, kiss me, kiss me as he tried to work up the courage to ask, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to say the words.

Come on, just ask! You want to, and he seems like he wants to, and you just have to go for it. Just say it. He won’t say no. But what if he does? What if I’ve been reading the whole situation wrong?

As Dan’s internal crisis continued, Phil took a small step forward, eliminating the last traces of space between their bodies. Phil’s lips remained ever so slightly apart, like he wasn’t sure he had Dan’s permission.

Emboldened by Phil’s move, Dan made a decision. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered closed, and he leaned in the smallest bit so their lips brushed.

Phil’s hand on Dan’s cheek slid back into his hair, just below the edge of the Pooh hat, and brushed his fingers through the curls. Dan sighed into the kiss, and Phil’s lips moved softly against Dan’s.

It was a little tentative, and their noses bumped together awkwardly at first, but it felt right. They kept it slow and purposeful, just exploring the feeling of each other. Dan wasn’t sure he’d ever had such a perfect first kiss, and he drowned in the sensation.

They pulled apart not too long after the kiss began. Bashful smiles grew on their faces as their eyes opened, and Dan bit his lip in an attempt to keep from grinning too much. Phil’s tongue poked between his teeth a little, and Dan’s heart melted.

Phil’s fingers disentangled from Dan’s, and Dan panicked.

He doesn’t want to hold my hand anymore? What did I do wrong? Did he hate the kiss? But then why did he smile? What no-

Dan’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of Phil’s now-free arm wrapping around Dan’s shoulder and pulling him in to cuddle into Phil’s side. Phil’s other hand found Dan’s again, and he clasped them in front of their bodies.

Oh. Dan giggled. That’s better, then.

He rested his head on Phil’s shoulder, careful to tip his head far enough backwards that he wouldn’t dig his Pooh ears into Phil’s neck.

This is the best first date ever.

They had missed most of the fireworks just staring at each other and kissing, but they caught the grand finale. Phil periodically made small noises of wonder and amazement that Dan wished he could bottle up and keep forever.

Too soon, the fireworks ended. Phil turned to Dan with a tired, but happy, smile, which Dan returned.

They made their way back through the crowd and to the parking lot, still hand-in-hand. It was a bit of a long walk, given the number of people trying to leave and the crazy distance from the park to the parking lot, but they were content to walk it in silence. The silence was comfortable, like a warm hug or a soft kiss. Dan wished the moment never had to end.

They eventually made it to Dan’s car. Dan held the door open for Phil and shut it behind him, then went to open his own door and sit down behind the wheel.

Phil let out a deep, happy sigh. “That was really fun.”

“Yeah, I had a really good time,” Dan sighed happily as he started the car. He didn’t move the car yet, though. Instead, he sat back in his seat and looked over at Phil with a small smile.

Phil’s hand crept forward and caught Dan’s over the middle console, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry you missed some of the fireworks, though. That was kind of the whole reason we came,” Dan said plainly, like he felt like it had to be said. He wasn’t sorry at all, actually, as what made Phil miss the fireworks was infinitely better than the fireworks themselves. He was also fairly certain Phil wasn’t too bothered by it, but he felt like it had to be said, anyway.

“Hmm, I’m not. But, hey, that gives us something to do next time,” Phil said casually, looking over at Dan, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

It took Dan’s brain a moment to process Phil’s words

“Next time?” he asked hopefully, a wide grin spreading across his face. Please, this was amazing.

“Yep. Maybe we’ll go to Epcot to see those fireworks, instead.” Phil smirked. “Or maybe we’ll miss those, too.”

Dan’s heart skipped a bit and red flooded his cheeks.

Fuck. He wants to kiss me more? He wants to do this again. Oh my god.

Laughter outside the car jolted Dan out of his thoughts. A family walked past, and Dan watched them find their car.

“Well,” he began. “I guess we’d better start driving home.”

He put the car in gear and moved them towards the line of cars trying to leave the park. Phil started talking about his favorite funny moments of the day, and Dan chimed in with a few Phil missed. Phil also insisted that Dan tell him he was right about the Pooh hats.

“They were the most important thing. They completed the whole picture. You’re the one always going on and on about aesthetics! There’s no way you think they weren’t the best idea ever,” Phil argued playfully. He had a smug grin on his face and he poked Dan’s arm a few times to drive his point home.

God, he’s cute. He so wants me to agree with him, but I can’t give up that easily, Dan thought mischievously. A smirk formed on his face as he started to rile Phil up about it.

“Well…” he drawled. “Winnie the Pooh doesn’t fit my aesthetic, especially not right now. Yellow ears with this pink and blue shirt? Major clashing goin’ on here. I definitely look ridiculous.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phil’s jaw drop in mock outrage. Dan’s smirk grew as his plan succeeded.

“Winnie the Pooh fits everyone’s aesthetic! There’s never a wrong time to wear Pooh ears, and looking ridiculous is the best part of it! Plus, we looked so cute together that it had to have been worth it,” Phil declared indignantly.

“Hmmmm…” Dan hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose we were a little cute, maybe.”

Phil squawked. “A little? Only a little? I’ll have you know we were definitely the cutest people anyone saw at the Magic Kingdom all day,” he insisted. “Everyone was jealous of us.” He crossed his arms with a huff, shooting Dan a sour glare. “It was the best idea.”

Dan finally couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore, letting it out in a loud burst absolutely drenched in fondness. He reached a hand out and pried Phil’s arms apart so he could hold Phil’s hand.

“I’m just messing with you, Phil! I loved the hats and the cute couple aesthetic and how jealous we made everyone else. They were the best idea.” He chanced a glance over at Phil, who had finally relaxed back into his seat after tensely arguing his points. Dan sent him an affectionate smile. “Thank you. They made my day. Well,” he added after a beat, “maybe not quite. The fireworks would be hard to beat.”

Phil blushed heavily, biting his lip to hide a grin. “Good. Great. The hats and the… fireworks.”

Dan pulled their clasped hands to his face and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of Phil’s hand, delighting in the quiet giggle it tugged from Phil, then let go of Phil’s hand to put his hand back on the steering wheel.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, they moved on to talking about their jobs and why they worked at Disney, describing the incomparable feeling of bringing the magical joy to everyone who visited. Somehow, these conversations led them all the way back to Phil’s house. Dan wasn’t sure where the time went, but he wished it would come back.

He pulled over in front of Phil’s house and put the car in park, resting his hand on the middle console.

I really don’t want this to end.

Apparently Phil didn’t want it to end either, as he made no move to get up. He just sat, staring at his house for a moment, then he turned to Dan.

“I really did have a great time,” he said quietly, reaching out to play with Dan’s fingers.

Dan smiled softly, meeting Phil’s gaze. “Me too,” he whispered fondly. He moved his hand slightly so it was holding Phil’s, and he squeezed gently.

“Thanks for treating me. It was sweet of you.”

Dan’s cheeks flushed, and he looked down. “You deserve to feel special,” he mumbled.

Soft fingers brushed against Dan’s jaw, carefully raising his face so he would look at Phil.

Phil’s so beautiful. How did I even get here?

“So do you,” Phil whispered. “So, if it’s okay with you, I’ll take you out next time.”

Dan nodded slowly. He was completely speechless with happiness. Phil had just confirmed that this would happen again, and Dan was thrilled and just a bit overwhelmed, especially with how Phil’s hand caressed his cheek and how close Phil’s face was to his.

And then Phil’s face came even closer, and Dan’s eyes closed as their lips touched.

It was a soft and sweet kiss, shorter than the ones earlier that night, and it left Dan wanting more as Phil pulled away.

“Goodnight,” Phil whispered, his breath fanning across Dan’s face.

“Goodnight,” Dan replied softly, his eyes locked on Phil’s. He wished the night didn’t have to end, that he could spend more time with Phil, but he didn’t push it. Maybe a different night, but not right now. The rest of their day had already been perfect, anyway.

Phil smiled, then turned and got out of the car, quickly walking up the walkway to his house.

Dan stared after him in a daze, reaching up and touching his lips with his fingers. He let out a lovestruck sigh, then smiled wide as he started to drive back home.

A memory came to him as he drove, and he smiled, then laughed.

He definitely didn’t need to worry about some six-year-old coming and stealing his Phil away.

[magicalfantaesies]

Dangerously In Love // Bts/Got7 ff {Ch.1 pt1}

Sooo, i wrote this trash. And if you like said trash, I'll continue 🙂.

----

Boom, Boom, Boom!

Min Yoongi's eyelids flickered but did not open.

Boom, CLANK, CLATTER!

His eyes instantly opening, he sighed loudly in irritation. What the fuck. That was his first thought on his first morning in his new house.

*Flashback 2 weeks ago*

"Pleeease," Hoseok whined for the 30th time, waving the paper at Yoongi. The older boy didn't even look up. "HELL NO,". Pouting, Hoseok threw himself into the rolling chair beside him. "You didn't even consider it," he mumbled.

He was saddened at his hyung's reply. He needed everyone to sign the paper in order to participate in the new project. The Housemate Project was started to help kpop groups bond with each other and form friendships. They lived together for a 1 year period, had a debut as one whole group, and had a tour in the last few months. It was something several groups were signing up for, vying for a chance to be with groups they looked up to. Hoseok thought the idea was too fun to pass up and had managed to convince everyone except the boy he sat in front of.

He took a deep breath. Fine Yoongi. I know exactly how to get you. He pushed his face between Yoongi's slouched figure and the disorganized desk. Mustering the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he could manage, Hoseok wrapped his arms around Yoongi's neck, pulling him close. "Hyuuung~" he whined, eyes seeming to sparkle as he looked at Yoongi. There were only two things in this world that the older man had as a weakness: his crush and his best friend, Hoseok being the latter.

Yoongi groans in irritation, pushing Hoseok off of him and onto the floor. He knows the boy won't stop asking until he agrees, having been at this for weeks. He furiously scribbled his signature on the paper handed to him then dropped it in Hoseok's lap. "THERE. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!!" he yelled. Hoseok grabbed the paper and shot out the door before Yoongi could change his mind, yelling a "THANK YOU!" down the hall. Sighing, the older boy questioned exactly what he had just gotten himself into.

*In the Got7 residence*

"No," Mark said as he turned away from the young boy. "Oh, COME ON" BamBam whined dramatically. "There are enough idiots here, I seriously can't handle anymore,"Mark said with a yawn. "But hyung, PLEASE," the boy begged again. Pausing and laying on his back, Mark looked up at BamBam. "I know exactly why you're doing this,".

BamBam's eyes flickered away and he blushed. "What do you mean?". "Let me ask you, who was the group you were going to suggest we partner with? BTS?" he asked. BamBam's blush deepened and he stumbled over his words.

Mark chuckled knowing exactly what was running through his head. "You know what?," he took the paper and scribbled on it, "Go for it Bam,". He ruffled the boy's hair and turned out the light. When BamBam walked out of the room, he sighed.

One step closer.

*Yesterday*

"Are you fucking kidding me" Yoongi said, angrily.

"Yoongi, watch your language" Jin said calmly, paying more attention to the small tatter that had appeared in Jungkook's sweater. Both groups were all gathered in the large, lavishly furnished living room in their new condo. It was large and expensive, and overlooked the ocean through big, stainless, glass windows from the living room. They had only brought suitcases and bags full of clothes and other personal items. The home had already been well decorated, and even stocked with the largest refrigerator they had ever seen and several cleaning supplies.

"Yes, seriously, we have to share rooms. There are only 7 rooms, and 14 of us..," Jinyoung said impatiently. "If you guys don't all ready have preferences, I'm going to randomly group you guys together,".

"Okay," he said when they had finished, "so the roommates are:

Jungkook & BamBam in Room 1

Yoongi & Jimin in Room 2

Taehyung & Hoseok in Room 3

and Youngjae & Yugeom in Room 4 on the left side of the hall

Me & Jaebum in Room 5

Jin & Namjoon in Room 6

and Mark & Jackson in Room 7 on the right side of the hall.

Any questions?".

Everyone shook their heads. "Good, everybody let's unpack,".

*Flashback end*

Yoongi glanced at the clock. 9:32. He angrily threw back the covers and trudged downstairs to find Jinyoung and Jin cooking breakfast. Most of the others were around the table stuffing their mouths and chatting loudly. "Hey! Why the hell are you guys so loud? Not everyone gets up this early!" he yelled, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere.

Everyone looked at him. "Actually we're not early, you're just sleeping in," Jackson said in a matter-of-fact tone. Yoongi glared at him and he held up his hands in a surrender motion. "Yoongi, since you're awake now, go wash up then come down for breakfast," Jin said. Yoongi rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Jin looked around the table. The only people not awake were BamBam and Youngjae. So when Jin mentioned this to Jinyoung, he said "Jackson, go wake BamBam and Youngjae,".

Jackson stopped mid-bite and looked up in irritation. "Why do I have to go get them? They're your 'children' !". Jinyoung slowly turned and stared at Jackson calmly. "I mean.... of course! I'll go get them right now!" he said running out of the room.

Jackson trudged upstairs, stopped in front of BamBam's room, pausing before opening the door. Who would be hardest to wake up?

Definately Youngjae.

So BamBam would go first. He knocked on the door then entered when he didn't recieve a response. The room was ice cold and BamBam was bundled underneath the covers, snoring. "BamBam," he said shaking him. The boy grunted, turning away from his hyung.

"Dude, get up. My food's gonna get cold," Jackson whined pulling at the covers. BamBam groaned, snuggling deeper into the covers that already swallowed him. Jackson shook him repeatedly until he got annoyed, snatched the covers all the way off the bed, and smacked BamBam's leg. "Oww, what the fuck ?!" BamBam yelled sitting up. "What a rude way to wake someone up," he grumbled.

Jackson just walked out of the room and two doors down to Youngjae and Yoongi's room. He sighed deeply. Please let him wake up quickly. He tried shaking Youngjae.

Nope.

He tried yelling.

Nope.

He tried jumping on him and screaming. Youngjae just pushed him on the floor and rolled over. So Jackson snatched off his covers and pulled him out of the bed. Youngjae groaned. "Jackson hyung~ leave me alone,".

"Jinyoung says get up. You know he'll come up here if you don't come down," he warned the younger boy. Youngjae grunted and shuffled over to the shower.

**5 minutes later**

Jungkook watched his hyungs in disgust. Namjoon and Jin were feeding each other, the love between them sicking (but still cute). Mark was enduring was a similar situation. Jinyoung was wiping the syrup from Jaebum's chin when they began cooing and shooting heart eyes at each other. "God, you guys are sickening," Jungkook said turning up his nose. BamBam added by making a gagging sound, causing Jinyoung to glare at him.

"They're always like this," Mark mumbled. "I could tell you so many disgusting stories about them. Like that one time when he discovered Jinyoung has a choking kink,". He cringed at the thought. A furious blush appeared on Jinyoung's face. "Mark. I'm gonna kill you later," he stated calmly.

"You think THAT'S bad," Taehyung said shoving eggs into his mouth, "you should have been around on Valentine's Day,". Everyone in Bangtan groaned except for the couple. "What happened?" Jackson asked. "KIM TAEHYUNG DON'T YOU DA-". Jin's words were cut off when Taehyung yelled, "JIN HYUNG WAS BEING SPANKED BY NAMJOON HYUNG IN A NURSE UNIFORM,".

Jin's fork fell from his hand, clattering against the plate. Yoongi cackled seeing the look on his "parent's" face. Jin hurriedly stood, put Taehyung in a choke hold and dragged him out of the room. Everyone ignored the screams that followed shortly. "I've got something way worse. I walked in on them-" Jackson gestured to Jinyoung and Jaebum, "ACTUALLY HAVING SEX. And let me tell you-". His words were cut off by a grape launching into his throat. Jinyoung smirked obviously pleased with what he had done. "MOM!" Youngjae gasped at his hyung's actions.

When Mark finally helped Jackson stop choking, he picked up a strawberry and hit Jinyoung in the eye. "You tried to kill my boyfriend!". Jin and Taehyung returned and everyone continued to laugh, tell embarrassing stories, and throw fruit (much to Jin's dismay). "Why are we friends with these people?" Jungkook whispered to BamBam. He shrugged, shaking his head. "I wondered that even before we started this,".

-----

I wrote this on Wattpad and some of the chapters are too long for Tumblr so I'll have to do chapter parts ig ㄟ(ツ)ㄏ

[freechoicedreamer]

Body and Soul (Ch.1)

AO3

Opening theme

For the almost 1.5 million inhabitants of Maine, whose capital is Augusta, autumn continues its natural course indifferent to an equally natural autumnal course overlapping theirs in that same - albeit another - Maine, one where enchanted lands and waters, paradoxically so close yet so far away from them, constitute the United Realms, whose capital is Storybrooke. In these magic domains, isolated from theirs by an invisible barrier, autumn follows an especially ‘sweet’ summertime that brought together Wish Killian and Wish Emma to their new home, in Storybrooke. Their arrival in the town inaugurated a period of unprecedented harmony whose intensity, while vibrating in frequencies of light, peace and love, foreshadows other frequencies, warped in the shadows, synchronized with disharmony, conflicts and challenges. Although the citizens' awareness is still oblivious to these hidden plots, the subtle energies of intuition are already being activated at a collective unconscious level, as if to prepare everyone for what is coming…

*

Storybrooke, the Swan-Jones home, late at night

Silence is not an absolute quantity and does not necessarily translate into a sound scale. Silence may be the state of two souls at rest, peacefully floating and dancing in an atmosphere that is vibrating in harmony with Billie Holiday's voice echoing with her orchestra in the dimness of the room in almost silent quietude. Silence may be the calmness of two naked bodies relaxing after their fusion in a rite of love. And in silence is how Emma and Killian, lying on their bed, communicate in this autumnal night: without words, simply two lives synchronized by the beating of their hearts deeply and eternally enamored with each other.

“... You know I'm yours for just the taking Oh I tell you I mean it…”

"… I'm all for you, body and soul!"

Breaking their silence but not out of the pace, Killian sings softly and along while turning to Emma, who smiles back at him, snuggling into his arms.

"And in what distant fields was the fertile mind of yours wandering, out of this body and soul that is so all for me, may I know?" Emma asks mischievously.

“Quite impressive, Swan, you almost hit the mark”, he nods admired, “the fertile mind of mine, out of this body and soul so very much all for you, was wandering in Persephone’s gardens”, he continues, muttering enigmatically with a slight wink, “but let Zelena not hear us!”

After a pause reflecting on Killian's last words, Emma smiles with the satisfaction of who deciphered a riddle. “You mean in the garden of Hades’ wife - actually, Hades's widow”, she corrects herself before concluding, “in the Underworld, isn’t it?”

“Aye, it is indeed. Persephone’s myth has been always associated with Hades’ although, obviously, by the time he disintegrated they were not together anymore,” he conjectures. Then, elaborating more for an attentive and inquiring Emma, he clarifies, “You see, Zelena may have been Hades' True Love, the one that unleashed the curse on his heart, but in the perspective of his very long – and now we know - quasi-immortal life, she was not his only love. In fact, we can't dismiss the importance of Persephone in his story - he committed a lot of insanity for her sake, even though his ‘love’ for her may be morally questionable and deeply driven by bad form.  Of course, the moral compass for gods is based on a different standard than that for mortals but… I have known Zeus, Poseidon and Hades so, in my own way, I can draw parallels and state that, knowing Hades as I did, none of his well-known behavior surprises me. Hades was inclined to abuse and cruelty. And I could add: taking Persephone’s myth as a reference, inclined to non-consenting sex, driven by an egoism that is characteristic of serious personality deviations. Even his ‘true love’ for Zelena was not able to bring out the best of him; on the contrary, it was able to accentuate his worst side. Our good Cricket, Dr. Hopper, would have had a unique opportunity in Hades to study the nature and origin of many mental illnesses. At least, I guess, in his own distorted way, he truly loved Zelena and Persephone. And that leads us back to Persephone and why I was thinking of her garden.”

After Emma's expectant nod, he goes on to explain: “Based on my knowledge of Greek mythology, she used to spend six months of the year as queen of the Underworld alternating with the other six months on Earth and Olympus. What I'm not sure about is why or when she broke this cycle of alternating permanence between worlds. I’m not even sure if she really broke it. That's because the Underworld, as we have known it, is only a tiny fraction of an infinitely larger kingdom; we only got to know a Decayed Storybrooke, Underbrooke, built by Hades to impress Zelena.”

Stopping to absently curly a lock of Emma’s blond hair spread on his arm, Killian reaches out to turn off the playlist and thus, more literally, to plunge with her into the deep silence of the night with all the chirping and chilling it brings. Hugging tight his wife as if seeking courage and warmth to continue, he then whispers: “You know, Billie Holiday's piercing voice chanting such meaningful words ignited the memories of my unique experience of stripping myself of my body and finding myself in my essence, in my soul - in other words, my experience of dying. And then, from thinking about the life-death dichotomy to strolling around Persephone's gardens only took a small leap of thought, I guess…”

There are silences that precede confessions; there are silences that anticipate the intimacy and complicity of knowing how to listen, in silence. The silence that followed Killian's words was broken, this time, by Emma. Nestling in his hug she magically covers their bodies with a blanket, closes her eyes to focus her attention on his next words, and says warmly “I’m listening…” thus giving him the comfort and the pass to continue.

Though unresponsive at first, Killian also closes his eyes, searching for the thread that will lead him to the recently interrupted thoughts. Finding them, he reopens his eyes, fixes his gaze on the ceiling as if it were a huge canvas ready to receive the vivid strokes of a painting, and re-starts:

“Persephone is closely associated with both death and rebirth because of the alternation of the autumn-winter season, while she is in the Underworld, and spring-summer when she returns to the world. As a result she has been portrayed as a liminal figure, a symbol of the inexorability of life and death. There is a poem, the one I was thinking about when you asked me where my mind was, written by an English poet, Swinburne, that explores this complementary nature of life and death. He draws a comparison between this garden in the Underworld, associated with Persephone (whom he calls Proserpine), and earthly life. He describes the Garden as a place where the world is quiet and peaceful - although in a comparison seemingly less favorable to the Garden. I mean, while Earth is colorful and productive the Garden is pale, deathly, and incapable of sustaining life.”

A new pause follows, as if he is not sure if she is still with him, thus a new propelling impulse comes from Emma: “And… so?”

“So, while the flowers in the Garden are necessarily bloom-less,” he continues, “the flowers of the Earth are periodically bloom-less during the winter, implying that life is full of little deaths, so to speak, because everything in life is temporary. Everything in nature is constantly cycling similarly to how, inevitably, Persephone alternates from death to life every year, or at least, to how she used to do. Anyway, because of this inevitability of death being a part of life, I believe that an immortal goddess such as Persephone inevitably would keep her cyclic dwelling. Even though we haven’t seen her during our stay in the Underworld, I believe we should (have seen) because by that time it was winter on Earth, maybe she was in another sector of the Underworld. You know, Swan, having been there as a soul without a body, as a bloom-less flower, sometimes makes this old ‘man wander…”

There are silences that foretell a response that is up to long and reverent silences and expresses the impulses dictated by the deepest layers of the heart, such as in Emma’s reply while stroking his chest hair, randomly combing it:

“Oh Killian, my adored dashing rapscallion pirate, I did not experience death on my skin as you did, but… as the other side of the same coin, I can imagine the impact it has had on you based on the impact it has had on me. I say this because the trauma extended to me, an active instrument for all that drama to unfold. Truth is: I went through many stages of regret, sorrow and grief, that I did, but it was your soul that endured the worst part, the torture imposed by Hades added to your own regret, sorrow and grief. It was your soul that went through the death of your body, but… you also went through the plenitude of experiencing your body's resurrection, your rebirth, which brought fullness and eternal happiness to my soul - and to my body, by the way...” She smiles, pensive, before concluding, “You see, I feel that as a result of death or of the simple passage of time, life, like a flower, or like a young skin, eventually finds its end, but we are living proof that love transcends human life and is eternal. Besides, your description of Persephone as a harbinger of death is contrasted with her association with spring and rebirth, never forget that...”

“Never, Emma, never…” he sighs and completes: “I think it is time to sleep, my love, have sweet dreams, Swan,” followed by a slow kiss on her strawberry scented hair as they both board the sleeping ship that will rock them for the rest of the night.

“Good night, Killian, while it's still night and we still can sleep at least for a little while… Soon, our solar child will come to cheer us up!” Emma remembers with a yawn before immersing herself into dreamland.

Storybrooke, the Sweet-Jones home, early in the morning

Storybrooke is waking up as slowly as the sun, whose first rays still don't compete with the glow of the streetlamps. Despite that, as the recent beginning of the school year officially marked the end of summer, in student-friendly homes the day's movement has already begun. In the streets, the first passers-by have quietly started to circulate – mainly workers who, from behind the scenes at the bakery, at Grannys' diner and at the docks’ cafeteria, will set the stages for another day's curtains to open.

Yawning, Emma inhales and exhales slowly her good morning before stating that “the days are already taking longer to dawn and the mornings are much cooler. I had almost forgotten what autumn mornings were like”. She then looks up at the grey sky through the window curtain, over their bed, feeling Killian's movement beside her as he turns his head towards the window and pulls an extra blanket over them, nestling in the warmth of her arms as he mutters “and our bed gets warmer and inviting for a morning love session, don't you think?”

“That would be great but I need to pee first,'' Emma replies with a peck on Killain's lips while uncovering and getting off the bed. The abrupt gesture of getting up quickly, however, causes Emma to lean against the headboard slowly, as if unsure of her surroundings, as if fearing to lose her balance and fall to the floor.

With a shout, “EMMA!” and a lightning jump, Killian rushes to catch her. "What is happening, love?"

"I’m dizzy," replies a completely pale Emma, "the vision darkened, then brightened, and is now red with little lilac spots flashing."

Killian helps her lie down, adjusting the pillows so that her body is slightly raised. "Just lie down a bit, love, I'll get you a glass of water and will be back in half a minute."

With her body still shaking, Emma reaches out her cold hands to take the glass of water with a trembling "thank you".

"Still dizzy?"

"No, it's gone, but I'm shaky and still needing to pee, will you help me, please?"

"Sure, lean on me... Hey Luna, good morning Missy, excuse me, you two!" he says kicking the two pets lightly.

"Not now, girls," Emma also addresses them as they follow closely while she creeps under Killian's support, "wait a bit and we'll get you some attention and your breakfast potions, okay?”

…

One hour and a shower shared with Killian later, Luna and Missy are already fed and Emma feels much better. Her morning uneasiness is just a reminder now, a topic of conversation over a frugal breakfast — just tea, juice, toast with jam and some light fruits - to keep from weighing in on her stomach. Still worried, Killian insists on persuading her to see a doctor this same day, but she doesn’t think it’s necessary, not yet.

"Killian, we have talked about this and, hypothetically, considered the possibility... Since our encounter at Hearty Island, we have been making love on a daily basis completely and utterly unprotected and without attention to my fertile periods." Taking another sip of her juice and already teary-eyed, Emma continues with a voice choked with emotion, "It has been amazing but we have always been aware of the risks. So, my period is long overdue, though my cycle used to be punctually lunar. Adding to that: the need to urinate more often, my aching breasts and this morning dizziness, and... "she can't even finish the sentence, cutting it with a loud sob and bending down her head.

Taking her hands to hold them tenderly and lifting her chin to look into her eyes, Killian whispers, "Emma, Sweet, listen to me. If what we suspect is true… this means that our life will be complete with a new life, the product of our love. This little miracle of creation is a divine blessing that you and I will embrace with gratitude and love. I know it is scary, believe me, I am scared too, but we are in this together. If you trust your intuition and what your body is telling you through so many signs, who am I to not trust you too. It’s just…It is one thing to guess around hypotheses; it is another to look reality in the face. As incredible and wonderful as it may be, it is natural that the magnitude of this huge reality takes us by surprise. It’s just telling us that it is happening!!” At that, as if realizing for the first time the dimension of the facts, he also begins to cry, almost sobbing too, “it’s happening, Emma… you see, for me, despite the deep love I feel for Alice, despite the wonderful parenting experience she brings me, experiencing pregnancy with you, my love, is an infinite grace that I cannot describe with words. It’s unbelievable yet true, our little bean or… would be beans…?” he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, looking at her belly pensive, before concluding “…the bean - or the beans, is/are already here, with us!" A smiling Killian then gets up from his chair, kneels before Emma in reverence, caresses her belly with adoration and lays his head on her lap, holding her legs and crying silently while her fingers absently comb his hair and tears run serenely down her face. They stay in this position for a few more minutes until they get up and head for the sofa in the living room, which welcomes them like a mother's warm lap. Cautiously, Luna and Missy approach and join them, snuggling into their favorite pillows.

…

“Thank you, Killian Rogers Jones, for being an active part in making, with me, this dream come true.” Emma confides, after having processed the news for a little while. “You know, even with my biological clock still in full swing, it is a gods’ blessing to revisit motherhood now, 39 years old, and to enjoy the privilege of having you as a partner in such unique adventure. I was so young, so naive and inexperienced when Henry was born. Everything was so... different from now. You know, I feel like I’m living another life, as if my soul has reincarnated in my own body bringing with me another worldview while keeping the memories of my past life. From them, I keep a wonderful son, who is now a young adult discovering romantic love with his Violet, many good friends from a transformed realm, and the longing of those who have gone to the afterlife. And in the present life, after having found my true love, a new home, a daughter, two daughters in law, a new family, new friends, two pets… receiving now the grace of a new baby overflows my heart with happiness. And I concede, you're right; I'll soon consult with a doctor to unravel the mystery you have just planted in my brain with this creative and imaginative mind of yours, this 'hypothesis' of twins!” She reckons mischievously.

“Right, right,” Killian gets up, feeling like entering a new configuration of time and space, and helps her up, hugging her tightly and protectively, as if instinctively he needed to make sure that she and the baby were safe from any threat. "I would suggest to keep the news only between us until we go see a doctor but… since I don't know too much regarding Storybrooke's healthcare system, it might be good to share the news with Emma Swan or Snow, I'm sure one of them, or both, will lead you in the best direction to be taken. I remember hearing someone commenting about the Minister of Health, Dr. Victor Whale, a general practitioner, like the doctor who everybody used to call in any emergency. Ah! Killian once mentioned something about his origins, a sort of Dr. Frankenstein tale, but it seems that said Doctor has modernized himself and is, in fact, very competent and reliable. Anyway, we’ll find out."

“We may find out sooner than you thought”, Emma ponders. "That’s because I was planning to go grocery shopping this morning and, after that, having lunch at Grannys'. That could be an opportunity to invite Emma, or maybe even the Swan-Joneses, thus including the whole pack, to lunch there with us. I see no problem in sharing the news with them all, so you and Killian – and Hope, could be there too.” With the sound of what she just said, she adds, “It is still weird when we refer to them with our names, and that is practically inevitable, since their names are our names too. Perhaps, in addition to meeting them and their sweet little child we both adore so much,“ she pauses to dream of the adorable girl for a bit, “we could practice with the names she taught us: her mom is Emma, I'm (aunt) Emm, her dad is Killian and you're (uncle) Key! What do you think? I’m thinking about starting to call you Key, it kind of suits you, you know…”

“Actually, I don’t know… but it doesn’t matter. You see, I used to be called Hook, then Rogers, now Key… What I mean is whatever name we use for calling ourselves won’t change who we are. So, we can do that, no problem, why not? But, when we are alone, I’m Killian and you are Emma, okay? Other than that, thinking on practicalities, you are right, my dear Emm!” Killian agrees with a wink.

Awakening at the same time from their nap, Luna and Missy get up from their pillows and utter happy meows and barks of approval.

Storybrooke, Grannies', lunch time

From the head of the table, with Mommy and Daddy on her right, and Uncle Key and Aunt Emm on the left, a very talkative Hope brightens the scene and reigns over the conversation.  "Mommy, please, tomorrow's lunch has to be at Aunt Emm’s, cause Luna and Missy cannot be alone…” she tells Emma and then, turning to Emm, she asks: “you promise they're alright, Aunt Emm?”

“I promise, honey,” Emm answers reassuringly. “This morning Uncle Key and I took them for a little walk before he went to work – with your dad - and I went to the grocery store. They ran a lot during our walk and I think they got tired. When we got back home they had lunch and needed to rest - they love to take a nap because they weren't used to a colder weather. You know, before, on the island where we lived, the weather was always warm during the day and only at night, sometimes, a little cold..."

"I know! I remember the island!" Hope exclaims waving her little hands excitedly. "I went flying over there a lot, and I knew that Uncle Key was bringing you home!" The four adults don’t say any questioning word but exchange significant glimpses, multiple raised eyebrows and slight smiles at the girl’s words, reacting as naturally as they must to her unexpected tirade.

“About that…”, Key clears his throat and scratches behind his ear before resuming the conversation, "about bringing new beings to live among us," he smiles reluctantly, glancing over at Emma, Killian and Emm and, even more timidly over Hope, "Emm and I would like to share some good news with you..." he pauses to look at them, reticent.

“Wait a minute,” Killian cuts him, “Does this mean what I think it means? Guys, that’s great news, congratulations you two!!” Killian exclaims stretching over the table to pat Key on the back, “welcome back aboard the baby parenting club, mate!!”

“I’m so happy for you two!!” Emma also reaches out to hold Emm’s hands, both women nearly crying, “These are great news on so many levels, you know? Each new life is a new promise of more life cycles to come. I'm sure you'll be immensely happy with the arrival of your baby... Hey, that means…” she thinks for a bit and then adds, “I think it'll be around spring of next year, isn’t it? Do you know the due date?"

“Thanks for your support, Emma, it means the world to us,” Emm responds, “and no, we don’t know the due date. Actually, we don’t know for sure about the pregnancy, I mean, technically sure, because we haven’t seen a doctor yet neither used any domestic test. But the evidence is too strong for us to deny it. You see, despite our intense activity we never used any kind of prevention or protection and there have been so many reliable pregnancy signals lately, all of them practically pointing towards a ‘positive’ result that they left us with no doubt. I mean, morning dizziness, check; extra sensitive breast, check; my highly emotional mood – much more than usual, Key has been really patient with me, check; and my late period when the usual is a punctual lunar cycle… check!”

“Don’t I know that? Perfectly lunar cycles, a patient Killian… check!” Emma winks reassuringly, with the complicity that only non-wish and wish people could understand, and then proceeds, “look, it will be a pleasure to help you with these formalities and technicalities on your first steps into pregnancy in a modern world. You could make an appointment with the same doctor who accompanied me, Dr. Maturin, he was great with us: really competent and considerate, a nice person. Like almost all of us here, Dr. Stephen Maturin is known outside our realms as a book (and movie) character - in his case, from a series of nautical tales. Anyway, it was his navy-related origin – and that the books got right - that caught our attention. Killian and I really like him. About him, I know that he came from the Land of Untold Stories and has since worked with other surgeons at Storybrooke Hospital – one of them we know and is also a very good option for you, Dr. Victor Whale, although he has been busier now because he accumulates the duties of Minister of Health. Anyway, there are more names, but I think these are two good ones for you to choose.”

“MOOOMMYYY!!! DAAADDYYY!!!” Hope cuts them shouting at the top of her voice, drawing everyone's immediate attention to her. In a flash, Emma reaches out to pat the girl’s hair while asking softly “what is it, Sweetheart?”

“We need to protect everyone: you, daddy, me, Uncle'Key, Aunt'Em, ba-baby, baby, everyone, everywhere, pleaaasssse!!!” she screams, scared, between sobs.

The four get up immediately and stand around the girl. Emma, already with her daughter on her lap, whispers comforting words in her ears, walking out of the diner and motioning for the others to follow her. “It’s okay, honey, everything's alright, nothing happened, you see? Everyone's here, we’re alright, don’t worry sweet baby… it’s okay… schhh… schhh… it’s okay…”

“What happened? We heard a commotion…” ask the diner owners, Granny and W.Granny, coming from the kitchen.

“The Swan-Jones girl”, says a customer, “she looked like she had a scary vision, a premonition, maybe. They went outside with her, I think the situation is already more under control and the little girl seems calmer,“ he says, looking out through the window.

…

Embracing her father's neck, the girl still sobs but is calmer. They are all sitting at the diner garden tables, waiting a bit to get inside and pay for the lunch. Hope refused to elaborate on what she has seen rather than explaining that she doesn’t understand what it was but she didn’t like it - and no one insisted on her. She seems relaxed, more confident. Turning her head to Uncle Key and Aunt Emm, she tries to comfort them, "The babies will be alright, okay? We will protect them, no problem, I promise."

"Ba-babies?" Emm mutters under her breath.

"Babies," Hope nods with a playful smile.

Shaking his head and hugging Emm, Key smiles, muttering "I was kidding this morning but who would know…maybe there'll be indeed an ‘I told you so’ here! We need to see a doctor, love, more than ever now. Let’s make an appointment with this… Dr. Stephen Maturin, what do you think?"

“I agree, let’s do it.”

“Very well then, I’ll send you his contact,” Emma says, already picking up her cell phone to send the contact. "Emm, have you gotten used to everyday technology?"

"Easier than I thought, I think spending six years watching all of you from a distance was an excellent training about this kind of routine, it prepared me well..." Sensing her phone vibration, Emm picks it up and confirms, "I've got it, I'll just wait another half hour because of lunchtime, and then I'll call this number to make an appointment. Thank you, my dear my sister in every way possible."

The embrace that follows between the 'sisters' is intense, as deep as the bond that connects them. Witnessing the scene, the other 'twins' exchange silent glances as Hope slowly begins to relax in her father's lap foreshadowing a nap. Due to the incident, Key suggests they go to the loft, which is much closer to Granny's, so Hope can play with Luna and Missy when waking up. Besides, it's also closer for him and Killian to go to the police station in the sequence. "Go ahead,” he says, “I'll just go inside to pay for lunch, I’ll catch you in a minute.” Noticing Killian’s gesture, he adds: “and don't even think about sharing the bill, Killian, you were our guests today."

“Thank you, mate," Killian sighs deeply, letting the women move forward to exchange a few words with his brother. “I'm still stunned by what happened inside. This afternoon we need to contact David. Since becoming the Minister of Defense he has traveled a lot, I hope he'll pick up his phone. We know that today he and Snow are in Camelot, as well as Regina, for the closing ceremony of the Summer School held there. Perhaps he is aware of any recent anomalies, anything unusual in other realms..."

"Aye, I thought the same; you have no idea how worried I am. Even here in the capital, there may have been some incident that has not yet been reported. Anyway, this afternoon we'll see.” Also sighing, Key remembers, “Emm and I finally got together, breaking the last barrier that still separated us, thanks to your daughter’s intuition guiding you three into a magic aid; we are living proof that Hope’s visions are to be taken very seriously. But you know that more than I do, of course. Anyway, let's go onwards, this story is just beginning, I'm afraid. "

Enchanted Lakes, Camelot, in the afternoon

Snow, Guinevere, Gideon, Jasmine, Aurora, Tiana, Ella (Ashley), Cindy (Henry's wife), Ariel, Abigail (Kathryn), Merida and Elsa gather in the round table room to celebrate and evaluate the First United Realms Summer School, promoted and coordinated by the Education Minister, Snow White. In parallel, in an enclosed office, David, Lancelot, and Regina also gather in an emergency meeting to address the notifications David has been receiving in the last few hours from some realms.

Clearing her throat and with an affectionate look directed at those present, Snow starts her speech. “Over the course of two weeks, nearly 500 students from all realms, aged 5 to 17 and housed in three different sectors of the Merlin Tower Lodge, participated of 4 Light Magic workshops, 2 Astronomy & Astrology workshops, and 2 Mythology & Literature workshops conducted by experienced teachers, writers, wizards, fairies and scientists from all realms. Each workshop was offered in 3 versions, adapted for school-level children, pre-teens and teens, which required special logistics and a large number of monitors and assistants. The courses gave them a broad overview of the many cultures, costumes and approaches practiced everywhere. In addition to these knowledge-integrating activities, they also participated in social-integrating activities, culminating in the First Lake-Nostos Festival, with music, dance, painting, theater, sports and cuisine from various regions. I consider this event to have been an enormous success and I am immensely grateful to all of you who have committed yourselves to the organization of the School and have ensured its success. I know that many people from your realms in special  your partners, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters and your in-laws, who could not be here today, supported the hard work of coordinating the logistics of the event, ensuring the comfort and safety of all. I therefore ask you to convey to them my deep gratitude. I hope this was the first summer school in a series of many summer schools to come. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, my dear friends."

…

“So… in short, David, you're saying that from four different locations came reports stating that almost at the same time - around noon today, frightened seer children, frightening everyone in the process, predicted a scary threat hanging over our heads. They do not know exactly what they saw but did not like it at all.”

"Exactly, and one of these children is my granddaughter. Regina, we know Hope - and someone could say ‘just a 2-year-old girl’, but we also know that she has the lucidity and premonitory precision of an elder visionary. She was specific about the need to protect everyone. She practically said that everyone is in danger."

After a pause when the three remained pensive, David continues. “As far as I can see, trying to map a network of widespread evil in the United Realms today, it's possible to spot only one outbreak of a more intense evil radiation – I’m not referring to villainy usually associated with different degrees of sociopathy, which is sadly present everywhere, but to that combined with dark magic. Although they have been permanently monitored and, apparently, have had no suspicious behavior, we know that Wish Pan and Wish Cruella have teamed up and are living in the castle that once belonged to Wish Rumpelstiltskin. Therefore, obviously, from the meeting of those two we can expect nothing good. Besides them, according to Aladdin and Eric, Jafar has been kept paralyzed – and safely hidden; that means that he has been neutralized. Furthermore, fortunately there is no Dark One threatening us anymore. Finally, it seems - I think it's good to confirm with the Minister of Science and Technology, Captain Nemo - in the Enchanted Sea there is no dangerous villain we have heard of...”

“David, Regina,” a worried Lancelot intervenes, “I was thinking… before the reports of these events arrived, you were just telling me the good news about the Dragon moving to the United Realms and taking a prominent position in the newly created Ministry of Communication at the same hierarchical level alongside Maleficent and Lily. Then the reports began to arrive so quickly that I didn't even have time to comment with you that I really liked this news because I know the Dragon; he traveled to Camelot earlier this year to visit Merlin’s Museum and commented about his magic having now fully incorporated the technology from the Land without Magic. This means that he can develop and produce media devices that combine Magic and Technology with unprecedented performance. Now, more than ever, he could come in handy. You see, news of the seer children premonitions can run fast, escalate and spread panic in the population, it is important that you, Regina, as Queen of all realms, be prepared to quickly address, in a broadcasting, a reassuring message so that everyone will stay calm.”

“Yeah… you are right, I’ll contact the Dragon right way and ask for his help on this task. Even Sydney could help on that, now that he has managed to forgive me and is able to get in and out with freedom from the Mirror World. In the meantime, we gain time to pursue the more investigative and preventive work, especially on tracking the latest activities of Wish Pan and Wish Cruella - could you make sure of that, David? Other than that, I think it's time to interrupt the round table meeting and share the bad news with them. I hate to do that. I was looking forward to be there celebrating with them, appraising and applauding them for the huge success of the Summer School; it’s really frustrating to cut their celebration this way…”

“But you must to that,” Lancelot advises reassuringly and, trying to lighten up her mood a little, he adds, “look at the bright side: you’ll have in front of you a unique opportunity to gain time in gathering many heads of state, most of them are already here, with the important addition of Gideon. He is a powerful wizard with an enormous knowledge on the legacy of his father. I know that Wish Rumple was not his father, but he might be a great advisor on smart strategies for us to approach Wish Rumpelstiltskin’s castle.”

“You know, Lance,” David remarks, “you just reminded me of another possible source of evilness, one that I hadn’t considered yet because of its low likability but who could tell…. Actually, it might be a huge one and I'd have absolutely no idea on how to deal with it if my suspicion turned out to be true: the Underworld. Would that be possible? And how would we know the answer to that? How could we try and find out? Contact Arthur’s soul, maybe? I have no clue…”

“Questions… questions....” Regina mumbles in between teeth as she walks self-assertive to the door that separates the adjoining office from the round table hall, opening it and transposing it after a break to breathe deeply: "Ladies and Gentlemen please excuse me..."

Elysium, sunset in the timeless eternity

“This landscape reminds me a lot the landscapes of the Edge of Realms: a beautiful painting with vibrant colors foreshadowing, then, the everlasting that we would meet in the afterlife…” Belle turns to Rumple and smiles.

"Similar but with some fundamental differences, Belle," Rumple returns the smile and walks along the axis of the plateau, extending his arms over the abyss. ”We can establish two levels of difference. First, let's look at your case: a mortal woman whose body could not stand alive if she jumped from a height like this. But for your soul? Nothing would change, your soul was already vibrating in the frequency of Light, Peace and Love, regardless of whether being in a physical body or not. Intimately, you were already living in your private Paradise. However, despite all happiness we found there, deep down, your kind, compassionate, heart was also suffering. You suffered because of a man whose soul was trapped in the artificial immortality of his body and the only way for him to want to be mortal, again, was to live the experience of witnessing your death, of losing you. So, let's think about my case. The Dark One immortality prevented my body from dying, but my soul, for centuries, was nearly dead already, erased, enslaved by an ego clinging to material power, to power over other people exercised through fear – which was imposed by dark magic. Fundamentally, the difference between the false immortality, which imprisoned me, and the eternal life I experience now, beside you, Belle, is what I call Inner Peace. The period we lived at the Edge of Realms, in that landscape looking so much like this one, represented for me the closest to the feeling of inner Peace in many years, perhaps in all my long life on earth. So, having tasted that sample of real, true, happiness was enough to give me the strength to fight for our love, for us, for our everlasting.”

“I know, my love,” Belle replies, “whenever I thought of you, your image was reflected by the calm waters of the lake in front of our house and on the banks of which many of our friends live. I could, then, watch you from here and I know how hard and challenging your path was - but I never lost my faith in you… and after everything you went through, I’m so proud of you, Rumple. Now, in the eternal now, from the perspective of a timeless realm, our past struggles are just that, an abstract past, a distant memory still pulsating in our ethereal hearts; they became just another painting on display in an art gallery.” Belle smiles as she walks, arm in arm with her forever husband, during an apparently late afternoon. “Our lives have become beautiful canvas, a beautiful sunset: eternized by a divine artist in a painting that does not correspond to the end of the day and beginning of a night. However, for those in the Wheel of Time, in the duality, the cycles are still happening. Now I’ve finally realized that all that dichotomy like day-night, chiaroscuro, good-evil, all that bipolarity… they were essential for the learning by comparison, which is the only way to learn discernment  between right and wrong. And, most importantly, without falling into any ego’s trap, without escaping through loopholes like the ones you've always been so good at identifying...”

"Sometimes I wouldn't mind being able to identify any of those loopholes just to be able to visit Gideon, or Alice, the daughter my heart adopted, or some friends. I miss them, Belle, and I know you do too..."

Still walking, they talk about their life on the resting place known as Elysian Fields. Belle remembers reading about them – and she realizes that the books got a lot right, but not everything. As described by the books, there are two distinguished Elysian realms: the islands of the Blessed and the Lethean Fields. They live in the first, also known as the White Islands, an afterlife realm reserved for heroes and virtuous people. They are not trapped there, though. In fact, as they are allowed to travel to the second resting place by crossing the river Oceanus, they have been there once, travelling in Captain’s Liam ship in the company of a group of souls who, in other circumstances, would never agree to fraternize in a journey together. However, having gained the right to access Elysium through heroic acts, they have freed themselves from old enmities that would have prevented them from gathering in a ship. Among them, the closest ones are Belle’s mother(s) (Collete and Wish Collete), Merida’s father (Fergus), Wish Gepetto, Dorothy’s aunt (Em), Baelfire with his brother (Wish Baelfire) and their mother (Milah), Liam’s mother (Alice), Wish Snow, Wish David with his mother(s) (Ruth and Wish Ruth), Merlin with Jack, his Apprentice, Midas with his wife (in both versions, wish and non-wish), Marian (Robin Hood's first wife), and Ingrid with her sisters and brother in law. The second Elysian area is also an underworld realm with pleasant fields: an afterlife to initiates of the Mysteries. The gods of the Mysteries associated with the passage to Elysium are chaired by Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld.

“These Mysteries really intrigue me. I know that they are called Mysteries for a reason”, Rumple gushes, “and once a Mystery they are not supposed to be decoded, I know that, but I would love to understand them on a deeper level, beyond that of an initiate. You see, during our trip to the Lethean Fields, Merlin and I talked quite a lot about these Mysteries and for him, too, there are still many riddles to decipher. The concept of a heroic act or the code of morals and ethics governing the gods’ judgments, what would they be? Certainly one of the biggest mysteries concerns the afterlife sector in which we find ourselves, also known as White Islands. In one thing Merlin and I agreed one hundred percent: to us, supposedly characters of tales and mythological legends, the codes of morals and ethics differ from those that govern the conduct of mortals at the Land without Magic. Otherwise, there would be none of us left in the Elysium!!" Rumple and Belle laugh, imagining how they would all be forbidden to cross the Gate to Paradise.

“By the way,” he recalls, “besides Eva and Leopold, I mean, (W.) Snow’s parents, whom we met during our travel to the Lethean Fields, I’ve heard that Cora and Henry Sr., as well as Robert - David’s father, and the two Hunters - Graham and Wish Graham, are also living there,” Rumple comments, “ah! and Liam and Killian’s father, Brennan Jones, with his second wife, actually, according to Merlin, with both of them to be more precise, in other words, his Wish and Non-Wish second wives. Can you imagine that? A real paradise whose permanence can only be guaranteed by the waters of oblivion provided by Lethe river!” both chuckle at Rumple’s keen sense of humor although, jokes aside, feelings like jealousy are no longer part of their existence neither of the Lethean Fields' souls.

“I see what you mean, Rumple, and that intrigues me too. I don’t get how the gods of the Mysteries judge and decide about who has been hero enough to come here or to go the Lethean Fields. We do know that those fields are crossed by the gentle river Lethe, whose name means oblivion, and we also know, because we talked to many souls we visited there that, probably because of the effect of their river waters, have totally forgotten former events of their past lives. Although we have eternity to find out the criteria, the Mysteries seem to be endless, it seems that they amount to infinity and the more we know and decipher them the more we need to know. I really would love to find a book with a more detailed explanation about the afterlife; I should go the Elysium’s Library more times, I guess, I have so many doubts... For instance, I’m not sure exactly how reincarnation works in the Underworld...” Belle wonders.

“Why, Belle, thinking about going back?”

“No, it’s not that, although I miss our son quite a lot. I asked out of curiosity, I mean, once a bookworm, eternally a bookworm…” she claims and continues, “It’s just that... I was thinking about those souls in eternal suffering, those who do not want to evolve, to find the Light. Or even, those souls who may desire not to have existed at all, or for humanity not to have existed at all - so why would they desire eternal life instead of eternal oblivion? ”

“You’re talking about the souls who go Tartarus after being in Underworld sectors like the one ruled by Arthur, isn’t it? Well, I’m not sure about them; I guess their punishment may be associated with an eternal loneliness subordinated to the duality evil versus good. They become slaves of not being ever sure of what they really want other than to hate and blame all the rest of humanity for their own fate and their own faults. Considering the evolutionary cycles, though, they should be allowed to evolve through reincarnation cycles. Perhaps, as you said, they are locked to the idea that they don’t want to evolve, or to exist as just a soul without a body. Perhaps they are slaves of the idea of never ceasing to exist in the physical world even if the price is to become a dark soul. I know from experience, Belle, darkness doesn’t accept the body’s – neither the ego’s - mortality.”

After a silence, Rumples concludes, “about reincarnation for souls from our realm, I know that it is possible, usually to accomplish a special mission or, perhaps, to ascend to more subtle levels of energy and bodies. Anyway, apparently the two Elysian realms are sometimes tiered - a soul which reincarnates and has won passage three times to the Lethean Fields will, with the fourth death, be transferred to the Islands of the Blessed for all eternity.”

“I see… the four reincarnations could, if fulfilled correctly, be the equivalent to heroic acts like the ones that gave us a pass to the Islands of the Blessed. I wonder about how could we be given a pass to the Olympus, I mean for a visit… what should we do to deserve that? I guess we should be allowed to visit the Olympus. Can you imagine having a personal conversation with the gods in their own temples or palaces, how great that would be?” Belle continues dreamily, “I would have so many questions…”

“As far as I know, Belle, normally only gods can be there. Except for Meg, who is Hercules’s partner, I’m afraid I have never heard of other souls of mortals living or staying in the Olympus. But I agree, we should be allowed to visit them sometimes, they go down to earth, to visit the mortals whenever they want…“

“But they are gods, Rumple, they can do everything whenever they want!!”

“I know, but we could try and find out more about them. If the gods can visit the mortals, the other way around should be valid too… If we think and look at it more closely, even eternity may take us by surprise. You see, we tend to think of Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, and the other siblings as being the ultimate powers but I know, and you know as well, that these Olympian gods weren’t the first—or even the second—group of immortals who had a hand in shaping the world. Remember the books?”

“Yeah… I see where you are going with this line of thought: Rumpelstiltskin, the loopholes’ hunter” Belle winks at him.

“That may be... Anyway, if you remember what you read, first there was…?”

“Chaos!!” Belle exclaims, excitedly.

“Exactly, from which came the Earth (Gaia) and love (Eros),” Rumple continues, “then, occasionally, Tartarus, the Underworld, was created from Chaos. Want to continue?”

“Right…” she sighs and takes on the narrative, “You know, these are ancient stories, there are contradictory narratives and some of them are twisted versions of others - just one more reason to visit them, to know the truth from the real source… One of the books I read said that Gaia gave birth to the Sky, to the Sea, and the Mountains and married one of her sons, Uranus (the Sky), giving birth to Cronus, a Titan. Cronus, in turn, took his sister Rhea as his wife and only then, from their union, came the original Olympian Immortals Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Hestia, Hades and Zeus, the youngest. Eventually, they surpassed Cronus in power... What a tale, no wonder their moral code cannot apply to the mortals’ world.”

“And they called me a Villain!!” Rumple giggles. “Loopholes apart, what should we do if we needed to talk to them, to ask them a favor, such as to intervene on earth in exceptional occasions? Belle, I think we should visit the Wish Charmings and talk to them, I know that they have been able to contact their daughter while she was trapped in the Heart Shaped Island…”

“Let’s do that then, Rumple, let’s wish to be in their house.” At that, hand in hand, both disappear and reappear in front of Wish Charming’s farmhouse.

Nautilus, evening under the Enchanted Sea

Sitting at the pipe organ, Nemo plays the chords that accompany Ursula's enchanting voice. The calming sound waves, undulating in harmony with the finally placated ocean, do not reveal the turbulence that has been overcome a few hours ago. The crew of 3 Joneses, 2 lieutenants  and their Captain relax at the sound along with Wish Ariel, who arrived with her aunt soon after the greatest perils had passed.

Eyes closed, souls pacified after the storm, they open them occasionally to look around as if certifying about their safety and to sip the special vintage wine served by Nemo. Then they close their eyes again, internalizing the feeling of being alive and having survived the suddenly raging sea.

"Beautiful," Brennan mutters after the last chords echo in the air, "sublime balm.... Nothing better than the softness of your voice, Ursula, to placate this old soul of mine and make me forget this afternoon's fright, what the hell was that?"

"Nor do I know, Brennan," Ursula replies, "a few times I saw the sea creatures so agitated; it was as if some kind of dark magic controlled them. I felt the effect too, all the nymphs and mermaids as well, but our nature allowed us to resist it. Nevertheless, neither my brother nor I could counteract the dark magic; a direct intervention from our father was the only way to placate the creatures. I talked a little with him, after the incident, then I came straight to the Nautilus to see how you were doing, but the little he said was that it didn't seem a magic coming just from this world. According to Poseidon, the source of the turmoil seemed to be a combination of dark magic coming from multiple realms, perhaps from the Upperworld and Underworld, now that I’m thinking about.... Perhaps a visit to cousin Persephone would be in handy; maybe she'll be able to clarify, or at least to have an idea about what happened. Anyway, the anomaly served to wake us up and keep us more alert. "

"Indeed," Nemo agrees, "since the epic adventure of Wish Realm's Killian and Emma, a complete harmony reigned so intensely in the Enchanted Sea that we forgot that, quietly, in the shadows, evil is always plotting. Liam Senior, we need to get in touch with Queen Regina to find out if there were any occurrences inland, could you help me with that? And if you can't find the Good Queen, try talking to one of the other 'triplets', Wish Regina and Split Regina. I remember seeing Queen Regina explaining to you the means to contact them, am I right?"

“In part.” Senior explains. ”She only gave me her Wish sister’s phone number; it seems that she doesn’t live far away from the seashore near Storybrooke. As for Split Regina, I’m afraid I don’t know how to contact her, but I think that it won’t be necessary. I mean, I hope so…”

"For beards and mustaches of the Sacred Shrimp!" Wish Ariel exclaims, "These form of treatment we use, including ‘Wishes’ and ‘non-Wishes’ sound so weird but, ‘Split Regina���? What even is this? That is another level of weird! Wouldn’t there be a smarter way for us to recognize ourselves and call each other? Nemo, as the Science & Technology Wizard you could find a more sophisticated solution to this identification problem..."

"Minister," Liam Jr. corrects her in a flirtatious way, "Minister of Science and Technology..."

"Whatever you say, Liam..." W. Ariel replies even more flirtatiously. “But...the problem remains,” she winks at him.

“I don't see much alternative, Wish Ariel,” Nemo replies. “You see, I could develop badges/electronic displays for people to use, but the difficulty of addressing them wouldn't be resolved like that. Imagine the 3 Reginas in the same room: they are physically identical. Last time I met them, I suggested a numbering system, they wondered a bit and asked for a time to think about but still haven't given me their answer. In this system, Queen Regina would be Regina 1, Wish Regina, Regina 2 and Split Regina, Regina 3. I really believe that the simplest method is numbering but it’s up to them to choose. Particularly, here at Nautilus we have our system well equated, but our case is atypical: Liam Jr is 34 years old and Liam Senior, for choosing not to submit to the rejuvenating magic, kept his 53 years, then he is physically distinguishable from his brother. As for Brennan, his non-wish counterpart is not alive, so in this world, he is the only Brennan Jones. As for you, Ariel, and your sister, also Ariel, it's best to use the good old ‘Double U’, or even the word ‘Wish’, as a prefix, a treatment pronoun - a title! We could call you Princess Ariel, but chose Wish Ariel, instead. What do you think?”

“I think that's okay for when the two ‘versions’ are in the same room, or when we want to refer to one of us, I agree that the treatment pronoun is necessary to differentiate the two. But, if my twin is not nearby, I think that the best treatment would be just ‘Ariel’. What do YOU think?”

“I think that your suggestion is perfectly reasonable, let’s make it a deal,” Nemo replies raising his glass and everyone agrees cheering up.

“Now, back to the bigger problems,” Brennan reminds them, I propose we retreat now, after such an intense day, to rest a bit and renovate our energies. Then tomorrow, if the Captain agrees, I would like to go to Storybrooke, to learn of the events inland, if there was any, and meet my sons. I'm really worried about my Killians and their families..."

"Wise advice, old'friend, we should go there all together," Nemo agrees, and addressing Ursula and Ariel, he invites them to stay on the Nautilus and go with them to the capital.

"Thanks for the hospitality, Nemo, after today I really need a change for a while and I guess Ariel needs that too, so we accept your kind invitation."

"Captain," Liam Senior approaches them; “could you please help in accommodating our guests on their cabin? Meanwhile I will try to contact one of the Reginas and find out how things are going on solid ground..."

“Well, then…” Nemo nods and signs to Lieutenants Harris and Martin, who were heading to their quarters, to open the way to Ariel and Liam Jr. They are followed by Brennan and Ursula, who takes Nemo's arm singing melodiously as they float on the seabed...

"Now it's time to say good night Good night sleep tight Now the sun turns out his light Good night sleep tight Dream sweet dreams for you Dream sweet dreams for me. Close your eyes and I'll close mine Good night sleep tight Now the moon begins to shine Good night sleep tight Dream sweet dreams for you Dream sweet dreams for me. Close your eyes and I'll close mine Good night sleep tight Now the moon begins to shine Good night sleep tight Dream sweet dreams for you Dream sweet dreams for me.

Humm... Humm... Good-night... Good-night babe..."  

*

[thedefinitionofbts]

A Story that we paint (Ch. 1)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Epilogue

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Taehyung x Reader 

Genre: College Au, Future, Scifi, Slight Fluff and Angst

Words: 9K

Description: Butterfly Dream: In which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.

You think you can remember his touch, the sound of his voice, the scent of his freshly washed hair against the cotton pillowcase. In your dreams he is real, he is everything you knew and everything you didn’t need to know. You could always find him in the crevices of your mind no matter how elaborately your thoughts are tested or how convoluted the maze of your consciousness is intertwined.  

“But if you happen to get lost, you had faith that he would find you”

 “Welcome to Virtual Universe 101. My name is Professor Kim Namjoon, and I will be your primary instructor this semester. ” Your eyes follow the tall and surprisingly youthful looking man as he walks to the front of the lecture hall. He smiles kindly at the crowd of students and proceeds to look down and expertly types some commands into his hand held tablet device. The screen behind him immediately opens to display the introductory slide of his presentation.

Virtual Universe 101 was one of the first classes added to the new university curriculum that aimed to combine the traditional liberal arts and the engineering sciences, two major fields of study that had always been divided by a wide gulf due to their contrastingly different ways of thought. Virtual Universe, or VU, is a technology developed sometime after the discovery of true artificial intelligence (machines with consciousness) and slightly before the invention of brain downloading (the process of downloading yourself into a virtual world where you could live and do things as you would in the real world). Now it’s officially a class students can take as an elective in college, and its especially appealing to those who have a knack for both the arts and the STEM subjects, in other words, the overachievers who pride themselves in being equally creative and logical.

“I assume most of you have a general idea of what VU is, so I’m going to go over the introduction rather quickly.” The screen flips to the next slide, giving a brief description of the history of VU and its real world applications. “As you all know, VU is an interdisciplinary area that essentially combines every subject you’ve studied in your educational careers up until now. It’s as thought-provoking as it is rewarding, so if you’re up for a challenge, you’ve come to the right place.” He smiles again, an action that causes his lips to stretch from ear to ear, and a pair of deep set dimples to appear at the corner of both his cheeks.

Professor Kim Namjoon was right. VU was as interdisciplinary as it gets, as it involves the design and implementation of an alternate world, which meant it wasn’t a standalone class. Signing up for VU 101 meant you had to simultaneously take Storyboarding (a literature class taught by the quirky Professor Kim Seokjin, who apparently jokes around more than he is serious), Design Engineering (and art and structural design class taught by the lively Professor Jung Hoseok who you’ve heard is literally the manifestation of the sun), and Mental Environment Homeostasis (a course intended to aid in the maintenance of psychological wellbeing taught by the mysterious Professor Min Yoongi who no one really knew much about).

“This semester you will be assigned a semester long project which requires you to build a virtual world.” He begins to go over the syllabus. “VU has various applications in the real world, ranging from video game design to medical research simulation.” He flips to the next slide. “For this course, you will be randomly assigned a genre for the virtual story you create.” He continues to go over all the due dates of homework assignments and midterms, which didn’t look too bad, since most if not all were just parts of the project divided into different stages to prevent students who had a habit of procrastinating from leaving everything until the day before it was due. “Lastly, at the end of the semester, you will have the option of deciding whether you want to live the life you create.” There’s a glint in his eyes, fleeting, but you were able to catch it before the crowd of students began to stir.

His last statement earned him his first audible reaction from the crowd who had been silently listening and taking notes up until that moment. Gasps erupted through the lecture hall as the students began whispering to each other in hushed yet alarmed voices. You didn’t know what the professor meant by that last sentence, but it sounded like he was implying you could download yourself into the system, which was something you had heard of being previously done, but still uncommon in real world society.

The whispering dies down as Namjoon begins to speak once again; his lips are still curved upward into a smile. “I know it sounds confusing now, but it will become more clear as we proceed into the semester.” He reaches the last slide, which contained all the usual contact information, office hours, and miscellaneous information. “The TAs will be available to help if you can’t make it to any of my office hours.” He says. “Oh, and don’t forget you also have your other professors who I am positive will be more than happy to answer any question you may have.” And with that Professor Namjoon dismisses the class.

You gather your belongings and make your way out of the lecture hall. Many of the students where still chattering amongst themselves, all this project talk had gotten everyone overly excited, which seemed a bit excessive and naive in your opinion. Little did they know of the challenges that lie on the road ahead, as the design and implementation of VU was very complex to say the least. You briefly glance at your phone, taking note that it was almost noon. You had agreed to have lunch with your best friend Park Jimin today, something that had basically become a tradition ever since you met him freshman year.  

As he had promised, he was waiting for you outside the engineering building. You could recognize that smile of his from a mile away.

“Y/N!” He shouts as he spots you walking through the large group of students that had just gotten out of class. He stands on his tippy toes and waves his hands in the air as if you hadn’t already seen him.

“You can put your hands down, Chim. You’re kind of hard to miss.” You joke as you approach him.

He laughs, eyes disappearing into half moons. “So how was class?” He asks as you walk across campus to the noodle shop a block down.

You sigh, and proceed to explain the whole project thing to him. Jimin wasn’t exactly up to date with VU technology, so you gave him some background info on that too, sparing him the confusing he would otherwise be met with later on. As the two of you stroll along the oak tree lined sidewalk, and across the autumn leave covered lawn, you tell him about the things Professor Namjoon had mentioned, VU applications, designing a virtual world…

“You can choose to live in your self-constructed universe?” Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise after you mention that little teaser Namjoon had hinted at during lecture. “Isn’t that still taboo???” He huffs, eye open wide as they go. He was listening so intently, he didn’t even notice the waiter place his steaming bowl of noodles in front of him.

“Yeah, I mean, that’s what I thought, but I guess this professor is more open about these things than society is” You shrug, pulling your hair back and leaning in to eat some of your noodles that were still piping hot.

 …

 “VR2000 is an artificially intelligent operating system that will act as the canvas of your virtual world. It is located in the Human Computer Interaction Lab, the place where I assume most of you will be spending many sleepless nights over the course of the semester.” Namjoon’s voice echoes through the lecture hall once again. There were sounds of students typing notes on their laptop and the occasional cough of some kid four rows over. Namjoon was going over the logistics on how to get started with the project and the resources available to get started. “It provides a human-machine interface where you will be able to enter the world you are building and experience it for each test run. This allows you to make adjustments as necessary, fix problems as they occur, or just optimize user experience.” He explains, while simultaneously showing a demonstration on the big screen.

“Wow” You hear Jimin voice directly into your right ear. He had decided to tag along and sit in on your lecture, even though he isn’t in your class.

“Calm your ass, you’re not the one doing this project” You roll your eyes. “I still don’t understand why you’re even here.”  

“What?” Jimin responds clearly offended. “I don’t have class in the mornings, and I just wanted to see what this class is like. You were the one who made it sound cool.” He blames. “Besides, I may or may no want to take this class next year.” He grins, eyes narrowing into half crescents.

You shake your head defeated. “Again, I don’t understand why a psych major like you would ever want to take this class. Aren’t you afraid it’s going to mess up your psychological wellbeing or whatever? Especially with the whole ‘you will have the option of deciding whether you want to live the life you create’”. You mumble, imitating Professor Namjoon’s voice when he had voiced that particular sentence.  

“Isn’t that what ‘Mental Environment Homeostasis’ is for?” Jimin smirks, knowing he had just won the argument with one rhetorical question.

You mentally facepalm, completely forgetting that, that is exactly what ‘Mental Environment Homeostasis’ was for, and realizing that your own argument was now invalid.

“You have all the tools you need to successfully complete the project at your disposal. I advise you all to use the university’s resources wisely.” Professor Kim Namjoon’s voice pulls your attention back to lecture. “Each of you will be paired up with another student in the class, and each group will be assigned a genre.” He pauses, as the students begin whispering and partnering up before he was finished. “As I was saying” He raises his voice and a hush falls through the crowd. “The genre each group will be assigned will be dependent on random draw, so I don’t want to hear any complaints about unfairness or requests to switch topics.”

“What do you think he means by ‘genre’?” Jimin whispers to you.

“Shhhh” You hush him before the professor gets annoyed again.

“You may come up to the front after class, with your partner, to receive the your project packet which will contain the genre and all the requirements listed.” Namjoon says. “But the one warning I will continue to reiterate throughout the semester is that you must take responsibility for what you create.” He pauses once again, but this time, not because he was waiting for the students to quiet down because the lecture hall was so quiet that you could hear him sigh into the microphone attached to his collar. “Any form of artificial consciousness deserves to be treated as a human.” He slowly looks around at the students in the crowd with deep philosophical eyes. You didn’t fully understand what he meant, but there was no doubt in your mind that he had just shared with the class the most important piece of information about the project.

A student in the crowd raises his hand.

“Yes?” Namjoon looks over at the dark haired boy in an oversized white t-shirt and beanie.

“How are you defining artificial consciousness?” the boy asks.

Namjoon smiles and looks down at the floor for a millisecond before raising his head and answering the boy’s question. “To put it simply, any person you create in your artificial world who has his or her own thoughts and is an independent agent.” He claps his hands together. “I hope that answers your question, and with that, I will give you guys time to partner up.”

“Wooow, this class is awesome” Jimin comments as the other students begin standing up and finding partners.

“God Jimin, your not even in this class. Do you know how hard this project sounds?” You groan, thinking about all the work that’s coming ahead, long sleepless nights trying to get programs to work and who know what other frustrating endeavors.

“But hey, at least you get a partner” He pats you on the shoulder with a wide grin.

Shit. You think to yourself before frantically looking around. You had totally forgotten you were supposed to be finding a partner right now. Half the class was already in line getting their packets, while you were here screwing around with Jimin.

Jimin notices you biting your lower lip and nervously looking around the room. “How about that guy over there?” He suggests, knowing exactly what you were thinking at that moment

Your eyes trail over to the person Jimin was pointing at and low and behold, it was the guy who had asked the question earlier, the one in the white shirt and beanie. He hadn’t even stood up and was just staring at the dark screen in front of the lecture hall like he was waiting for his partner to just magically appear.

“B-but, I don’t even know him” You stutter, weighing out your options.

“Do you know anyone in this class?” Jimin retorts.

You tsk and glance at him annoyed. “Fine, I’ll ask” You mutter while making your way over to the boy who was seated three rows in front of you.

As you approach, you notice that he was kind of zoning out, so you had to wave your hand in front of him to grab his attention.

“Hey, ummm, sorry to bother you…but I was-“

He looks up and interrupts you before you could finish your sentence.

“Partner?” He says with an anticipating smile.

You somehow get lost in his innocent doe eyes for a fraction of a second longer than you had intended before managing to nod your head slowly.

“Cool” He says, as he stands up and proceeds to get in line behind the rest of the students. You stand rooted in the spot, not quiet registering what had happened and wondering if this was all real. Ironic because this was happening before the project even started. “You coming?” He turns and asks after realizing you were still in a trance of some sorts.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah” You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind and quickly hop over to his side.

“The name’s Jungkook by the way” He comments as the two of you wait in line patiently. There were shouts from students in the front who had opened their packets and got assigned genres that they were probably hoping to get.

“Y/N” You respond with a smile.

 …

 Given the choice, what kind of story would you choose to live out with the love of your life?

“Think of it as a choose your own adventure game, and try to have some fun with it.” Professor Kim Namjoon’s voice echoes in your head as your eyes attempt to focus on the words printed on the first page of the packet.

This was insane. You had expected to be tasked with making some sort of video game, adventure simulation, or something more practical, but a love story? Unbelievable! At this day and age? But the words on the page were concrete and undeniable. That was the genre you and Jungkook were given. The objective that would inevitably dictate all the hard work you would sacrifice for the entire semester. A love story. 

“It’s so lame” You sigh as you toss the packet on the table and burry your face in your arms.

“I thought girls liked these things,” Jungkook comments. He picks up the packet to flip through it one more time. He re-reads the guidelines as he twirls his pen in his free hand.

You guys had met up to discuss the first steps after Design Engineering class with Professor Jung Hoseok, who you soon found out, was indeed the embodiment of the sun itself. That guy literally never stops smiling and he walks as if he’s dancing ballet or something.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe we could make anything interesting with a topic as boring as romance.” You remark, as you sat across from Jungkook in the large library study area. Since it was the beginning of the semester, it was relatively empty. If this were finals week, you’d be lucky to even find an open table.

“Love stories aren’t always centered around romance” Jungkook replies as he lifts his pupils from the pages to glance at you. “They can be…tragic.”

“What? You mean like Romeo and Juliet?” You finally lift your head to look at him. He looked really young, fetus-like almost. His baby face made you question if he was maybe younger than you, but at the same time, his body was quite developed…not that you were directly taking note of that in particular. “We just met and you’re already trying to kill me off?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant” He defends, shaking his hands. “Besides, they both die in that story don’t they?” He voices after remembering the actually ending of the age-old classic tale.

“Oh yeah, never mind then” You mutter.

“We could just base our project off of some really famous romance novel. They’re all pretty cookie-cutter anyways.” He says.

“We could…” You pause to think, realizing that you didn’t want to just settle for something generic. You had an entire semester and the world’s most advanced tools to make something amazing and novel. Why waste that just because you didn’t get an “interesting topic”? There was a limitless amount of room to be creative, the possibilities were endless. “But, I want something unique, something never written before. Something that could be deemed the greatest love story in the history of love stories.” You state in a resolute tone while looking up at the stain glass ceiling of the library, sunlight was pouring in and changing all sorts of colors due to the painted glass.

“Wow, your mindset changes in a hurry” Jungkook says with a side grin. “Good thing we have Storyboarding class next.” He says as he stands up from his chair. “Let’s hope Professor Kim Seokjin has some good advice about coming up with a plot.”

…

 “Good afternoon, class” Professor Kim Seokjin greets the students who all looked very enthusiastic and eager to get started, to your minor annoyance. “I heard you’ve all received your project genres this morning. I hope you all have some amazing ideas swimming in your minds because in this class we will be doing a lot of creative exercises and brainstorming.”

Storyboarding was a new Lib-Ed class adapted specifically for students enrolled in Virtual Universe 101. It had been adapted from the more traditional literature classes such as Creative Writing and the like, and as unnecessary as it sounded before getting your project genre, you appreciated how it managed to help get you reoriented with the project goals after the disappointment you were met with this morning in regards to the project genre you received. Professor Kim Seokjin had said something along the lines of figuring out the main characters of the story before you start planning each stage of the story in separate steps.

“Aren’t our main characters just….us….?” You voice cautiously, after the professor had called for discussion time with your partners.

Jungkook sits up from slumping back in his seat and clears his throat before replying. “Not necessarily” He says. “According to the packet, our story is from the perspective of one of us, not both.”

“Oh right” You murmur, turning to look the other way before Jungkook can notice the flush in your cheeks. You bite the inside of your lip, scolding yourself for being so direct and inaccurate about the words escaping your lips. Of course, how could you forget? The packet specifically stated for you, the participant, to choose the love story you would live out with the love of your life. Not ‘come up with a love story between two people’.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. You jump a little in your seat, startled by the clarity in his voice. “I was thinking that we just have to decide which one of us goes into the simulation as the perspective side, and then we can decide whether we want to create a second main character or just have the simulation work its magic.”

You’re lips part as you try to register what Jungkook had said. “You mean, like the concept of soulmates?” At this point, you didn’t even know what you were saying anymore. You didn’t even believe in soulmates, in fact, the idea had always made you want to scoff.  

Jungkook pauses and furrows his brows ever so slightly. “Sure, I guess if that’s what you call it.”

“That’s probably easier anyways.” You cut in, while laughing nervously. “I can’t imagine trying to create an AI.”

“Yeah, an AI….” Jungkook whispers to himself at a barely audible volume.

“I guess I can volunteer as tribute.” You shrug. “Unless you want to.” You look up and notice Jungkook had that blank look in his eyes again, just like the way he was the first day you “asked” him to be your partner.

“Huh?” Jungkook hums, snapping out of his thoughts.

“The perspective roll. I can be the one going into the simulation.” You repeat, waiting for him to either agree or suggest he go in instead.

“Oh, yeah. You do it.” Jungkook says, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ll monitor the stats while you’re in the simulation.”

 …

 The weekend hits you like a breath of fresh air after being locked up in a dusty attic for days. You needed a break from the project, even though the hard part had barely even begun. The creative process was harder than you thought, and you blame it on the lame topic you were stuck with. It was obvious you still weren’t over the “unfairness” of random draw because you had spend a full half an hour complaining about it to Jimin on Saturday while the two of you were grabbing a late lunch at the café near campus.

He had tried to make you feel better, insisting that love stories could be overwhelmingly emotional and there were a lot of elements you could play with, but it hardly changes your opinion because Jimin was into that stuff, as opposed to you, who brushed it off like it was all generic and uninteresting. Despite the futility, you still appreciated his well-fought effort.

It wasn’t until two days later, on Monday, that things started to get interesting. Because two days later, you receive a call from Jungkook telling you to meet him in the Human-Computer Interaction lab, aka the place where the project simulation was supposed to take place and the place you would be spending most of your time in the next coming months. He hadn’t contacted you since Storyboarding class on Friday, and you thought he was just out drinking with his friends or hungover the whole weekend, but as it turns out, he had actually been cooking up a surprise. A real one (figuratively, or so you think…).

“Wow, I’m impressed. He’s…he’s… fucking hot.” You comment, as you stare at the sharp features of the man on the screen. He had large sultry eyes, a tall perfectly shaped nose, and full lips. His skin was smooth and sun-kissed, hair a dark shade of golden brown.

“Well, I figured you’d want someone physically attractive, since you know, he’s going to be the male lead of your love story.” Jungkook says as he places his hands on his hips, proud that his past 48 hours of non-stop work had paid off.

“You mean, our love story,” You correct with a smirk. “I’m just playing lab rat here. He’s not real.”

“Oh, but he will be.”

You freeze in place at Jungkook’s last comment. “What do you mean?”

“Artificial consciousness.” He states. “I made him fully conscious. True AI.”

“W-wait, what?” 

Jungkook chuckles. “It won’t make for an interesting story if I’m just controlling him the whole time, especially since you and I aren’t actually lovers. It should be as real as possible, right?”

You feel your face heat up at the mention of being lovers with Jungkook. “Yeah, of course. What was I thinking? We could never be lovers. Not even close.” You lie, hiding the fact that you hadn’t felt what you did the past few days when you were with him, and pretending that it was the farthest thing from your mind.

“It’s less work for me, and it’s more natural for the story.” He says, eyes still looking at the young male on the screen. “He’s so good looking, I’m almost jealous.” He’s still admiring his work of art.

“H-how did you do it though?” You question, remembering that this was not an easy feat, in fact, not long ago, it was literally impossible to make truly conscious AI.

“Hours of coding, help from the awesome resources the university provides, and a small part of my own brain.” Jungkook grins, looking at you and waiting for your praise. 

You feel your lower jaw drop. “You downloaded you brain into the machine?”

“Yup” Jungkook nods. “Do you know how long it would take to make him fully from scratch? Probably couldn’t even finish it if I spent the whole semester fully on that.”

“So doesn’t that mean he’s basically….you?” You raise your eyebrow.

“He’s 50% similar to me, the other 50% he’ll evolve into as the simulation goes.” Jungkook explains. “In a sense, I’m part of him. Or more accurately, part of him is me. The difference is subtle, but it’s there.”

A moment of silence passes, and the only sound that can be heard is the loud rumbling of the lab machines.

“I shouldn’t have made him so hot” Jungkook finally blurts out after the sort of awkwardly long pause where neither of you spoke. “It’s hurting my pride a little.”

“I’m lucky you’re only realizing that now that you’ve finishing making him” You grin, throwing the joke back at him.

“Ouch” Jungkook says, pretending to grip his chest.

The two of you burst into laughter, and you get a glimpse of the way his nose and eyes scrunches up until they disappear. It was a heartwarming sight, even though your own laughter prevented you from seeing him as clearly as you wished at that moment. You had only known the guy for a week, and it already felt like you had been friends with him for years.

After the laughter dies down, you glance back at the virtual image on the screen, taking in the idea of the pending adventure ahead.

...

“So how are your projects coming along?” Professor Kim Seokjin had been checking in with all of the groups on Monday, making sure everyone was progressing at a good pace, when he finally made it to you and Jungkook.

“Oh, it’s going” You reply, startled by his near silent approach.

“You two are partners I’m assuming?” Seokjin questions, eyeing you and Jungkook back and forth.

“Yeah” Jungkook replies, nodding his head so that his bangs bobbled up and down.

“May I take a look at your topic?” Seokjin requests. You turn to dig through you backpack for the project packet and finally find it hidden amongst your other papers fully of sketches from Design Engineering.

Seokjin takes the packet from you and glances at the front page. “Love story?” Seokjin voices as his eyes glide across the words written in bold. “Interesting.” He looks up and glances at you and Jungkook with a mischievous expression.

Jungkook clears his throat and averts his eyes.

“We’ve already decided on the main characters.” You quickly announce, hoping that Professor Kim Seokjin’s mind wasn’t traveling to a place you didn’t want to deal with right now.

“Oh?” Seokjin raises his eyebrow.

“Umm, yeah, it’s going to be from the perspective of me and an AI that we, or Jungkook, built over the weekend” You explain, hoping that he wasn’t going to point out some major problem with what you guys had planned so far. It didn’t occur to you until now, but it probably would’ve been better to get the plan checked out by Professor Namjoon before going ahead and creating a being who was artificially conscious, as Jungkook had claimed it or he was.

“AI?” Seokjin repeats. “Simplistic model or conscious?”

“He’s –“ You begin, before Jungkook cuts you off.

“He’s conscious” Jungkook says.

Seokjin nods slowly, expression on his face very difficult to read from what you could tell. He doesn’t speak for a good minute, clearly taking his time to register what Jungkook had said. “Have the two of you spoken with Professor Min Yoongi in Mental Environment Homeostasis yet?” He suddenly asks.

“We’ve been going to class, but we haven’t spoken to him directly.” You respond, recalling the black haired professor who always looked tired yet retained an unexplainable type of sharpness in his eyes. You wonder why Professor Kim Seokjin would suddenly bring that class up, after all, the simulation stage had yet to begin. Surely people weren’t having mental breakdowns yet were they?

“I’m assuming you cloned part of your own brain circuitry into the Connectome?” Seokjin says, turning to Jungkook.

“Y-yeah” Jungkook nods, eyes widening and body stiffening up. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and you weren’t sure why he seemed so nervous. You had no idea what cloning brain circuitry entailed, but it must’ve been what Jungkook meant when he said part of the AI was him.

Seokjin nods again, and finally smiles. “Impressive.”

You faintly hear Jungkook breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of the professor’s warm smile.

…

That evening, Jimin invites you to study with him at his dorm. He was one of the more well off students who could afford to have his own room in one of the more “luxurious” residential halls. Luxurious as in, he didn’t have to share his bathroom and his room came with a little kitchenette so he could prepare simple meals on a stovetop rather than be limited to using the classic microwave. Since, you had already agreed to work on the project with Jungkook that day, you decide that it couldn’t hurt to bring him along to Jimin’s place. Jimin practically already knew who he was anyways.

“Come in! Come in!” You hear Jimin’s high-pitched voice vibrate through the wooden door that you had just knocked on. You turn to look at Jungkook who just shrugs, waiting to follow after your steps.

“I brought Jungkook” You announce as you open the door, in case Jimin wasn’t prepared (as in dressed) to receive extra company. Even though, he should be dressed somewhat decently knowing you were going over anyways, but since Jungkook was still a stranger to Jimin, it was only respectful to give him a heads up regardless.  

“Oh, great!” Jimin chirps, poking his head out of his opened bathroom door. “The more the merrier.”

You roll your eyes at his optimism and invite Jungkook to sit on the couch under Jimin’s lofted bed.

“So I heard you two made a real person,” Jimin says as he walks over to the two of you, completely unaware of how he conveniently arranged his words into a sentence that could be taken the wrong way.  

“Yeah, well” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck. “He’s not real per say. He’s just conscious in the virtual world.”

“Ohhh” Jimin says, pretending he understands the weight of Jungkook’s words, which he doesn’t. “So he’s fake real”

“Uh, no…he’s real real” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. “He’s me but not me”

“R-right…” Jimin says, nodding as if it would help him understand if he kept telling himself he understood.  

“Ok, can we just get to work?” You cut in, barely able to handle another minute of this nonsense. “We still have to plan our plot and begin putting our designs in the code,” You sternly remind Jungkook, who nods and quickly pulls out his laptop.

“So does this person look like you too?” Jimin asks Jungkook as he scoots closer to the chocolate haired boy. He was evidently not yet finished with the previous conversation.

“Ummm, heee’s…” Jungkook stretches out the pronoun to buy time to think of a response. “…better looking“ Jungkook finishes.

Jimin bursts out laughing. “Is that even possible?” He says in between his giggling.

Jungkook’s cheeks flush a light shade of pale rose. “Yeah, ask Y/N…she can confirm it.”

You feel both of their eyes rest on you, tentatively waiting for a response.

“Yeah, like he’s super attractive, but he’s not human, so….” You trail off, trying to figure out exactly what you were trying to say, because at this point, you didn’t even know yourself.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier if you two were the main characters of this whole story thing?” Jimin blurts out. “I mean, I can totally see you two as a couple.”

You’re eyes widen in horror and you hear Jungkook choke on the water he was drinking.

“Shit.” He mutters, trying to dry the water that made his white shirt half see through. “You mind if I use your bathroom to dry off?”

“Sure, go ahead” Jimin answers, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

When Jungkook had closed the door and was out of sight, you punch Jimin in the arm. “What was that?” You whisper angrily.

“Ow” Jimin yelps, while rubbing the spot you had probably left a light bruise on. He’s not in pain for long because he starts giggling at your angry expression. “Stop pretending like you don’t find him attractive. I’ve known you long enough to tell when you like someone.”

“We’re just project partners.” You sternly remind him.

“You like him” Jimin repeats, still looking at you with that knowing smile of his.

You bite your bottom lip, and turn away. “It doesn’t matter”

“There’s nothing holding you back”

“He clearly doesn’t feel the same way.” You huff a laugh. “I mean, he created a virtual person just so he didn’t have to play the role of my lover.” You say. Although it might not completely be true, that’s how you decided to interpret it as.

Jungkook comes back from the bathroom before Jimin could come up with another “unreasonable” response about how you should still go for it anyways, or you shouldn’t come to conclusions so soon.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook apologizes, as he sits back down.

“It’s fine.” You and Jimin reply simultaneously. You turn to him, making a threatening face to prevent him from saying another sentence that would throw you back into the inescapable depths of embarrassment.

“So how about we start planning the first meeting?” Jungkook says, completely avoiding the topic you guys were discussing before.

“Sounds good.” You quickly reply before Jimin could interrupt in any way.

Jungkook sits back down next to you on the couch, while Jimin pulls out his labtop and begins doing his own homework, finally getting the hint that the two of you needed to work things out on your own.

“So there’s the classic, meet accidentally, destiny type stuff.” He begins. “Then there’s the love at first sight ‘soulmate’ scenario.” He continues, emphasizing the word “soulmate” like the concept was absurd, which you would agree, was. As he’s talking, you just stare into space, listening to his slightly husky voice, iterating all the options he was probably just pulling out of his ass on the spot. “fairytale meet in the magical woods, male lead saves your life, or just the plain old classmates, new neighbors...” He trails off, probably realizing that it all sounded very scripted.

A long moment of silence passes between the two of you, in which only Jimin’s typing on his laptop can be heard. Jungkook finally sighs and turns to face you, giving up on his brainstorming part.

You casually turn to face him. “Surprise me” You say.

“What?”

“You decide. I mean, you did design the dude. Why don’t you also decide how he navigates the world, responds to stimuli, and ultimately behaves in the simulation? I’ll take care of my half of the work, and you take care of his or yours or however you want to refer to the you/him dynamic as.” You reply, nonchalantly, reasoning that it’ll all work out more naturally if you don’t purposefully try to make this story all lovey dovey. “I mean, of course we’ll work together designing the world, but I’d rather not know everything he’s going to do before witnessing it.”

Jungkook pauses again. “I-I guess, that works too…” He says, trailing off again. “It’s just….”

“What?” It was your turn to ask the question he had previously shot at you.

Jungkook jumps a little on the couch. “Uh…nevermind” He answers quickly.

…

The day of the simulation came quicker than you expected, or even wanted it to. This was it, test run number 1 out of who knows how many to come. The past week had been hell, and that was putting it nicely. Long hours of coding, taking all those sketches and blueprints you and Jungkook had conjured up during Design Engineering and making it a virtual reality. The initial design process was still fresh in your mind, long and confusing, reminiscent of all project beginnings where you didn’t even know where to begin.

Thankfully, Professor Jung Hoseok was more than willing to help at the time. He wasn’t one of those kinds of professors who were more focused on their own research than genuinely helping their students succeed. He was extremely compassionate and had given you and Jungkook an array of starting ideas about the physical world that you were constructing.

“Normally your story genre dictates the setting of the physical world that you’re aiming to build, but in your case, you can really make it any way you want.” Hoseok had explained when you told him you and Jungkook were building a world for the setting of your self-designed love story. “ You can start by considering time periods. Figuring out if your story is set in the past, present, or future. Or you can make the setting ambiguous, and design a world which combines things from the real world and fantastical elements.”  

After speaking with Professor Jung Hoseok, both you and Jungkook agreed that it would be more interesting to make the setting ambiguous. A completely innovative design would be more fascinating, and in your opinion, a love story would need all the help it can get to be even remotely intriguing.

The outline of your virtual world was built by taking inspiration from nature, the real world, and fictional worlds from classic books and movies. Since you were the main character, much of the features included in the design would be tailored to you, and you didn’t want to be thrown in completely unfamiliar territory, while at the same time, you wanted there to be enough room for creative engineering. And so you both agreed that your story would take place on Earth, in an alternate universe, and the time period would be in the present. Jungkook thinks that it’s better to focus on the visual effects of the simulation rather than coming up with a bunch of random things that don’t exist in the real world. “You can’t fall in love with a person if you’re too focused on other things” He had said. Meaning that if you felt lost and uncomfortable, it’d be hard to enjoy yourself in the simulation, which surprisingly made sense when you thought about it.

“Like we should focus on making the colors of plants more vibrant, and the structure of natural landforms more… grandiose ” Jungkook suggests, while the two of you were sketching in Design Engineering.

“Just sounds like more work,” You mumble, hoping he isn’t able to detect the lack of motivation in your voice.

…

Simulation Test # 1 “The First Meeting”

The rays of the distant sun were beating down on your face, causing beads of sweat to form on your exposed forehead. Fluffy clouds drifted across the smooth bluish gradient that was the canvas for the sky, occasionally blocking the solar glare and casting your surroundings under a cooling shadow.

As the physical world comes into view, you notice the giant arbors of forest green trees, planted behind park benches. A man was selling large oval shaped balloons, their colors captivatingly vivid and their movement jumbled and light as the breeze swept them against each other.  

You hear sounds of children laughing, a girl giggling as her boyfriend whispers something into her ear, the voices of people you didn’t know, and….screams?

Your eyes dart around in search of the source, there were fences, colorful machinery-like contraptions, a booth selling pink and blue cotton candy, some fake horses attached to poles, decorated, and arranged in a perfect circle.

“Real funny, Jungkook. This is exactly what you should refrain your boyish mind from letting you do.” You say out loud as if he could hear you while you were in the simulation. You roll your eyes as you realize you were standing in the middle of an amusement park, and the scream you had hear seconds ago was from a group of people on a roller coaster.  

“Jungkook?” You hear someone say as they approach you. Turning to identify the person, you instantly recognize him as the hot guy that Jungkook had designed, aka the male lead of your story. He was even hotter in person.

“Are you looking for someone?” The brown-haired male asks, confusion evident in his baritone voice.

You have no idea what is going on, but you’re desperate to get answers. “Ok, can you just stop pretending for a second and tell me where it is you’re going with this story. I’m not about to fail this class because you wanted to play games, fyi I didn’t give you a pass to do whatever you want with this project, you know.” You shout into the surrounding, unsure if Jungkook can hear you from the other side. There is no response, and you can feel the mild annoyance bubbling up, which you address by placing a hand on your temple and begin rubbing to relieve the irritation.

Hot dude’s lips part slightly, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip. He’s still staring at you, but you’re looking around the park to see if there’s someway to contact the real world in this made up reality. After a good five minutes of fruitless attempt, you sigh and decide that the only thing you can do is play along until the simulation ends.

“So what’s your name?” You ask, turning back to Mr. I’m-too-hot-to-be-real, like literally.

He blinks a few times, and you almost being to question if Jungkook even gave this guy a name. “M-my name is Kim Taehyung.” He finally blurts out. “and yours?”

“Y/N” You reply, narrowing your eyes and wondering if Jungkook is working some controller on the other side of the virtual world you see in front of you.

“Uhh, you want to go on one of those rides?” You ask, thinking what the heck, might as well do something while you’re stuck in this simulation.

Taehyung turns his head and looks at the roller coaster you were pointing at, trying to take in the new piece of information you had presented and calculating how to respond to such a novel type of stimuli. Seconds later, he turns back to you and nods his head eagerly. There’s a familiar spark in his eyes that you swear you’ve seen before somewhere else, but the fraction of it that is foreign prevents you from recalling where exactly you’ve seen such stars.

The two of you get in line. People look normal, in fact, so normal that it almost feels like you’re in the real world. None of them were acting out of the ordinary or as robot-like as you had imagined before entering the simulation.

The two of you were sitting side-by-side, waiting for the cart to begin sliding down the path outlined by the tracks. Glancing over at Taehyung, you notice he looks a bit stiff, like he was really nervous and anxious.

“Are you ok?” You question, looking at his face intently.

“Uh-y-yeah” He swallows, causing his Adam’s apple to bobble up and down. Then his pink tongue pokes out again and wets his bottom lip. “I’ve just never been on one of these.” He adds.

Oh right. You think to yourself. All of this was new to him. He was literally “born” two weeks ago.  

“But I’m somehow able to recall being in love with thrill rides like these.” He continues to explain, making you take back your previous conclusion, and throwing you into a state of confusion.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“My older brother took me to amusement parks all the time when I was little, and I’ve never stopped loving roller coasters.” He says will a silly smile plastered on his face.

What the hell was this dude talking about? Older brother? The fuck? You think to yourself as the cart finally begins to move. “But you just said you’ve never been on one” You shout, as the speed of the cart picks up and the wind is blowing loudly in your ears.

“Yeah, I haven’t” Taehyung shouts in between loud giggles. “Ahh, this is so great!” He laughs happily as the cart makes its speedy descent down the steep slope.  

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the approaching thrill of the pending first drop.

After the ride ends, you make a mental note, reminding yourself to tell Jungkook to change Taehyung script or something because a lot of what he was saying was evidently contradictory. You think it might be some bug in the code or some mistake in writing up his dialogue.

In just a half an hour of walking through the park, you learn that Taehyung really like animals. Dogs in particular. He can’t stop cooing and petting them, hopping around like a little kid who just received his long awaited birthday present, and in return they seem to be unable to stop jumping all over and licking him. Taehyung is also quite the foodie. Literally requesting to eat something from every other food stand you guys strolled past, and still complaining about being hungry afterwards.

“You want some?” He says, turning to you and holding out his icecream cone, offering you a lick of the half scoop of frozen confectionary placed atop a perfectly shaped waffle cone.

“Umm, no that’s ok” You reply, politely rejecting his offer. You watch as he smiles and takes another lick of the creamy concoction. “So…Taehyung, why did you come here today?” You question, wondering how omniscient his AI was. Was he aware that he was part of a simulation? Did he know he was a product of this project? He didn’t seem to know about Jungkook, at least, judging by his confused response when you had shouted the latter’s name upon meeting.

“I…I don’t really know” He responds, mid swallow. “I just came because the rides looked fun, and when I saw you, I thought you were really pretty, so I approached.” He looks at you and flashes you another one of his boxy smiles.

You feel you face heat up ever so slightly, but before you could get caught up in feeling flattered that you just received a compliment, you shake your head and remind yourself that this wasn’t real.

“Is that all?” You poke, wanting to make sure you could collect every last bit of information about him, so you could make adjustments as needed.

Taehyung takes a bite out of his waffle cone before replying. “Yup” He chirps.

The two of you continue to walk in silence, with on the sound of other people at the park. The sky was growing dark and you wonder if this was also part of Jungkook’s plan of meeting your “lover” for the first time at the amusement park. The wind picks up, and you feel cold water pellets hit your exposed forehead. It wasn’t long before they became more frequent, and you and Taehyung were rushing to find cover.

“What luck” You huff as you attempt to dry off your hair that had quickly become soaked from the rain. Just as you had voiced that last sentence, you vision gradually blurs.

“Y/N….?”

You hear Taehyung whisper you name one last time before you find yourself back in the pod with wires connected to your skull.

………….......................

“Jeon fucking Jungkook!” You shout when your eyes flutter open.

His eyes widen when he sees you charging towards him angrily right after you hopped out of the pod. He raises both of his hands in the air in surrender.

“I-I can explain”

“Oh, you better think you can” You spat with an annoyed huff. If this was some kind of joke on his part, you were going to threaten to switch partners.  

“He looked bored, and I couldn’t think of a better place to give him his first adventure.” Jungkook explains. He points at the scene displayed on the computer screen. “He just looked so lonely, and I felt bad for the guy, so I thought an amusement park would be a fun first meeting spot.”

You peer over at the man who appeared on the large projector screen in front of Jungkook. It was Taehyung, and he was sitting on what you presumed to be his bed, in a small apartment in some city that didn’t quite exist. His hair disheveled from towel drying it after getting soaked in the rain, and he had changed into his striped pajamas.

“We can watch him from here?” You question in astonishment.  “Wait, he’s actually real? Like he does things when I’m not in the simulation???”

“Yeah…about that…..” Jungkook begins cautiously. “Didn’t you hear what Professor Kim Namjoon said? The part about us having to take responsibility for any form of consciousness we create. He may be ‘artificial’ but he’s…alive”

You’re mouth drops at the realization. Jungkook hadn’t exactly explained this to you fully, in a way that you could understand correctly, prior to creating Taehyung, or maybe you hadn’t taken this artificial consciousness thing serious enough because this is starting to sound like something you did not sign up for.

…

“I’ve heard that all of you have begun the simulation phase.” Professor Min Yoongi’s voice rings through the classroom. The students confirm unanimously. “Good. Now this class can really begin.”

You ears perk up at his statement. Mental Environment Homeostasis had gone on for over two weeks, and you’ve even received homework assignments. What was this talk about really beginning? You pray that he doesn’t mean there will just be more work because that was the last thing you needed after the first round of VU testing.

“Those of you who went into the simulation. How did it feel?” Yoongi questions the students in the crowd. He waits patiently for a student to raise their hand and offer feedback.

“I was fully aware that I was in a simulation, although, I did reach a point where I was confused as to what I was doing and began to question the main objective.”

“How long were you in there?” Yoongi asks.

“Two days.” The student replies. Some of the students in the crowd gasp.

The professor only nods his head before proceeding. “You got lucky then.” He says. “I wouldn’t go over the 6 hour mark on your first test.” He pauses. “You see, the longer you are in the simulation, the more your brain becomes accustomed to its environmental stimulations.” He walks over to his computer at the front of the room and pulls up a few graphs from past studies on human-computer interaction onto the big screen. “Studies have shown that a person’s psychological state can be altered in a way which makes them think the simulation is not virtual.”

“But isn’t there a way to bring a person back even if they’ve been confused by the simulation?” Another student in the crowd blurts out.

“Only if their conscious mind is still rooted in reality.” Yoongi replies. He looks down at ground, seemingly recalling something for a brief moment. “If their minds have consciously fully merged with the virtual world, they are said to have reached the point of no return.” He changes the slide on the screen. “In such a scenario, said person will believe that the virtual world is the real world and vice versa.”

…

“Butterfly Dream” Jungkook says, startling you as you were just about to drag the scene you had designed into your virtual universe.

“What?” You turn your head to see Jungkook look up from his laptop.

“You know, the phenomenon coined by a famous philosopher some thousand years ago.” He explains. “When you lose your point of reference and you wake up from a dream not knowing if you’re awake or dreaming?”

“Wow, that was the worse explanation of said phenomenon I’ve ever heard.” You reply sarcastically.

“It’s like what Professor Min Yoongi said, when you lose your grip of reality and start to believe the virtual world is actually the real world and the real world is virtual.” Jungkook explains.

“What, you afraid I’m going to go in and not come out?” You smirk, saving the work you just completed and preparing to go in for round two.

“Uhh…” Jungkook pauses, and you can literally feel the hesitation in his voice.

“Calm yourself, I’m not planning on staying in that simulation for longer than 6 hours.” You retort. “You don’t have to worry about losing me to the void.”

….

[trexrambling]

Until It’s Gone - Ch.6

Overview: Both brothers had loved and lost her. One night, Sam gets a phone call that changes everything.

Characters: Sam, Dean, Reader

Warnings: mild language, hunting vibes, protective Winchesters (yay!)

Word Count: 1,880

A/N: This is the sixth chapter in my newest ongoing series. Thanks to @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie for being my letter checkers and fellow fangirls :) My writing soulmate and sole sister...life wouldn’t be the same without you. There’s a good bit more Dean in this chapter, and it ends with a bang. We’re going hunting... Feedback is always loved and appreciated!

Read (Ch.1) (Ch.2) (Ch.3) (Ch.4) (Ch.5)

My tags are way down below. Let me know if you want to be added to anything that I write :)

Sam felt Y/N slowly slip out of his arms in the morning, but he kept his eyes shut and remained motionless to feign sleep. He heard her make her way to the bathroom and close the door behind her before the sound of running water reached his ears. Sam smiled to himself. Y/N always took a shower in the mornings. It was a habit that had been lovingly picked at and teased over when she’d lived in the bunker.

Sam got dressed for the day and made up the bed before going to the kitchen to search for breakfast. Y/N joined him a few minutes later, her cheeks still flushed from her shower and her hair pulled back into a neat braid. He noticed her attire and set down the second half of the bagel he had been working on.

“Y/N… why are you dressed to go hunting?” It was her lace up, waterproof boots that gave it away. She always and only wore them on hunts.

She walked to the fridge and pulled out the carton of orange juice. “Because there’s a hunt a few towns over,” she said with a shrug, not meeting his gaze and instead opting to search for a glass in the pantry. “I was going to send the details over to you guys like I’ve been doing, but I checked my news app and there was another kill this morning.” She poured the juice, set the carton down on the counter, and finally turned to face him. “So… we’re going.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck as he thought through his options. Y/N was staring him down over the rim of her cup as she steadily chugged the orange liquid. He knew that look, and he prepared to advance with caution.

“Ok. What’s the case?”

“From the sound of it, a freshly turned werewolf.”

“Only one?”

Y/N nodded. “The pattern doesn’t suggest a second. The kills are randomly staggered, but each one was sloppy and in the same area.”

“Alright… But are you sure you’re up for this? It’s been awhile since you’ve hunted and –”

The slam of Y/N’s cup hitting the countertop cut Sam off mid sentence. He watched her demeanor turn from determined to infuriated in less than five seconds.

“I’m not broken, Sam!” she practically shouted.

“Hey,” Sam said, somewhat shocked, “I never said you were –”

“No,” Y/N snapped, “I can see it in how you’re looking at me. Last night didn’t change anything. I’m still Y/N, and I can still hunt damn well no matter how long I’ve been out of the game.”

Sam reached out a hesitant hand to place on her arm, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Y/N… I’m sorry. You’re right.” He searched her eyes and was thankful to see some of the anger fading. “I’ll get my stuff together and text Dean so we can head out, ok?”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed quickly. “Why do we need Dean?”

“Well a car, for one, because I’m not riding on your bike’s handlebars. And backup, for another, because Dean’s one of the best hunters there is, and I’d always rather have him there.”

“Fine,” Y/N grumbled, snatching Sam’s discarded bagel half off the counter, “but if he’s not here in twenty we’re stealing my neighbor's car.” She stalked out of the kitchen and Sam sent a quick text to Dean.

Werewolf hunt a few towns over. Be here in 20. – S

It was only a few seconds before he got a response.

Hunting? Are you serious? – D

Tried to talk her out of it. Bring that extra case of silver bullets. – S

I know how to kill a werewolf. Be there soon. – D

To say that the ride from Lebanon to Wolf Creek was tense would have been a drastic understatement. Y/N sat in the back, her gaze firmly fixed out the passenger side window. Dean’s eyes never wavered from the road, and Sam had already tried and failed to start four different conversations. Besides the initial briefings on the specifics of the case, the car ride had been silent.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot of the small park that every victim had been found at, Sam was so on edge that he practically bolted from the Impala as soon as the wheels stopped turning. Y/N quickly followed him to the trunk and joined him in picking through the odds and ends of weapons. She picked up “her” gun, the one she’d always used, and released the clip to start loading it with the silver bullets from the case. Dean was leaning against the driver’s side door, his head tilted towards the sky.

“It looks like rain.”

Y/N snapped the fully loaded clip back into place. “You won’t melt, Winchester.”

Sam rolled his eyes and closed the lid of the trunk.

To say that the hunt had been easy would have been another understatement. The newly turned werewolf, a male, might as well have held up a huge sign identifying itself and then stood still with its hands in the air. It was dusk when they saw it vault from the woods and leap onto the unsuspecting pair of females that were out for a jog. Y/N had gotten off the first shot, purposely wide to startle it so it would release its victim, before Dean hit it in the chest. The werewolf dropped dead on impact, and Y/N had quickly gone over to check on the two girls, flashing a fake badge and effortlessly soothing them with a bullshit story she had more than likely made up on the spot. When it was all said and done, the two girls walked away with only a few bruises and scrapes, and Y/N was left standing with her arms crossed over the burning pile of werewolf flesh. Dean stood a few feet away, his arms propped up by the shovel he’d used to dig the shallow grave.

“You almost seem upset that nothing went wrong,” Sam said as he walked over to join them. His nose scrunched involuntarily at the rancid smell of burning hair and flesh. When she didn’t answer, he looked over and could practically feel the frustration radiating off of her. “Y/N…?” he asked hesitantly.

“It didn’t help.”

“What do you mean?”

She gestured down at the werewolf burning below her feet. “This. Hunting. Killing this thing. Saving those girls. It didn’t help.”

Dean glanced over at her, but remained silent.

Sam sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I think we should talk about what happened last night, Y/N. Running around, trying to bury it beneath something else’s blood, it’s not going to work. You –”

“Want to get drunk?” Dean spoke for the first time, effectively cutting his brother off.

Sam whipped his head towards his brother. “Dean, do you really think that –”

“Yes.” It was Y/N who cut him off this time. She picked up her own shovel and started to pile dirt on top of the werewolf body. “But let’s head back to the local bar by my place. Bartender owes me a few rounds.”

Sam would have said something about Y/N’s impulsive decision to overload her system with liquor, but if he’d learned anything in the years that he’d known her, it was that blatant opposition just led to a stubborn forefront. So he’d kept his mouth shut and joined them at the bar, sitting protectively close and glaring at any guy who even so much as looked at her the wrong way.

“Easy, Sam,” Y/N said, signaling to the bartender for another round, “pretty sure you made that last guy shit himself a little, and all he did was offer to buy me a drink.”

The corners of Dean’s mouth quirked up a bit before he took another pull from his beer bottle. Sam just scowled at her. “Look, Y/N, I still don’t think this is the right way to –”

“Sam, I swear that I’ll talk to you about everything later, ok?” she said, placing a hand over his and squeezing slightly, “but for now, I just want to drink this whiskey and forget for a few minutes. Forget everything that happened, accept some free drinks, and,” she smiled at him and leaned a bit closer, “you owe me a dance, good sir.” She nodded her chin at the jukebox in the corner that was currently playing some small town country song.

Sam forced the hunch out of his shoulders and made his muscles relax. He did his best to replace the grim features on his face with a smile. “Ok, Y/N.”

“Ok?”

“Ok!” Sam said with a chuckle, managing a real smile this time.

She grinned back at him. “Well good, because you are…y-you…” Her voice trailed off suddenly, her eyes going wide.

Dean, who had been watching their whole interaction, immediately leaned forward to see better around Sam’s tall frame, “What is it?” She didn’t answer them, but her jaw had clenched, her hold on Sam’s hand had taken on a vice grip, and the fear was evident in her eyes. Both brothers turned to follow her gaze.

A man had just entered the bar. He was tall, strongly built, with blonde hair and blue eyes that cut like ice through the people in the room. His scan of the small space stopped once his eyes fell on Y/N, who at that point was reflexively cowering into Sam. A dark smile took over his features, and he spoke as he walked over to the three of them.

“Y/N! Long time no see.” He stopped a few feet away and cocked his head to the side. “You ran off so fast, I never got a chance to thank you for our…lovely date.”

“Wait, is this the dickbag?” Dean asked, his focus returning to Y/N. She somehow managed a tiny nod, and Dean and Sam immediately rose in unison. Sam moved in front of Y/N, shielding her with his body, and Dean moved to stand beside him, calmly crossed his arms and catching the man’s eye.

The blonde haired man chuckled. “Oh come on, Y/N,” he said, trying to peer between the cracks of the Winchester’s frames, “let’s go talk things over. You know I didn’t mean –”

“If you have any common sense, you’ll shut your damn mouth,” Dean said, cutting the man off mid sentence. Dean’s voice was even and calm, the kind of calm that could send shivers up spines at the deadly weight that it carried. He caught the man’s gaze again. “But my brother and I, well, we would love to have a nice, long talk with you.”

“Look man,” the guy started, “I’m not sure who you are, but if I want to talk to Y/N I have every right to –”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Dean’s fist connecting with his jaw knocked the words right out of his mouth and simultaneously ignited a wild pandemonium that quickly spread throughout the entire bar.

- Read Ch.7 -

My Forever Lovelies: @wheresthekillswitch @pinknerdpanda @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @hannahindie @ruprecht0420 @jotink78 @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @super-not-naturall @aiaranradnay @percywinchester27 @rosie-winchester @nanie5 @feelmyroarrrr @mogaruke @escabell @mrswhozeewhatsis @katymacsupernatural @deanssweetheart23 @oneshoeshort @claire-of-the-country @greeneyesinlaceandangelsgrace @keelzythe2nd @angelsandwinchesters @writingmisha @canadianjelly @findingfitnessforme @nikkilaf

Until It’s Gone tags: @vinylwinchesters @smalltowndivajessica @tas898 @supernatural-fangirl13 @sleepdeprivedchildren @wayward-girl @sandlee44 @crowleys-niece @riversong-sam @winchesterprincessbride @queenquack @charliebradbury1104 @tiny-friggin-human @poukothenerd @allinhishands @emptywithout @thelasttardistech @charred-angelwings @myrabbitholetoneverland

It won’t let me tag some of you and I’m MAD! *angry huffs*

[finnbaelorxx]

Unbreak My Heart Ch.2

@romanempressfics

Braylin's moment alone was ruined by a voice she had missed hearing, but hearing it at that very moment, made her sick to her stomach. The raspiness, and softness of Finn's voice was one of the things she loved about him.  

"Braylin are you alright?" Finn asked, walking closer to where she stood.

Picking her head up, Braylin looked at him in the eyes, and she could not stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. "I'm fine" She told him quickly, before grabbing her suitcase and walking past him down the hallway.

"Braylin wait. Can we talk sometime? I think I owe you an explanation" Finn told her.

"I really can't Finn, I'm sorry" Braylin replied, shaking her head, and continuing her walk away from him.

Finn stood there, as the silence filled the hallway, as he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. A year ago, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was happy with Braylin. He just didn't want a stable relationship with her, because he wasn't sure he was cut out for it. He knew Braylin wanted more than a friend with benefits relationship with him, but he would not give in. She told him time and again she wanted and needed more from him, but nothing changed for months at a time. But deep inside he wanted that too, and he was too afraid admit it to anyone, especially himself. He didn't want to be known as the guy who slept with a different girl every night. He wanted to be guy that was with the same girl every day. He wanted that girl to be Braylin, but he's pretty sure she hated him, and he did not blame her one bit. Sure, he thought about what it would be like if the 2 of them were in a relationship, but he didn't want to settle down. He wasn't ready to commit to her, if his whole heart wasn't in it. She deserved someone that was 100% invested in her, and at the point where he is in his life, he definitely couldn't do that right now. Finn left the empty hallway, more confused as ever.

Braylin made it outside the building, stashing her suitcase in the girl's locker room. She needed air, and time to think. She knew she would have to see Finn every day, because they were both on Raw, and Finn was out with his own injury, having injured his shoulder at  Summerslam last year. Finn's face was permanently stuck in Braylin's mind when her eyes locked with his. Sitting down on the curb, Braylin grabbed her phone and unlocked it. Her lock screen staring back at her. It was a picture of herself and Finn the day he won the NXT title from Kevin Owens. She was there in Japan with him, and he spent a couple days showing her around Japan, and everything there was to see. He introduced her to Japanese food. Braylin fell more in love with him, when she saw him in the ring in front of the people that had made him the wrestler he was. When the whole arrangement started, Finn would randomly bring her coffee, send her good morning texts, send her flowers just because. They drove to towns together, were even plane buddies. Everyone backstage started to call her 'Finn's girl' as a joke, but to her it meant a little more. As the months went on, all of those things had stopped, and the only time Finn had texted her was for a late-night hook up. Braylin contemplated time and time again whether she should end the thing between them, but the devil on her shoulder always won, and she would go fulfill his want for her. The next couple of months had flown by, with her love for him growing stronger, and his want for her starting to fade away. Braylin questioned if he still wanted her. He wouldn't look at her in the eyes anymore when he fucked her into the mattress of the hotel bed, his eyes always shut. That made her feel like she was some kind of useless hooker he found on the street. She knew she was worth more than that, but she loved him, so she did anything to make him somewhat happy.

The day it all came crashing down on the both of them. She could still remember the night they had their fight that ended it all.

Finn and Braylin laid in their shared hotel room, wrapped up in not only the blankets but each other. They had been apart for a couple days, due to Braylin flying home for her sister's wedding. Minimal words were said between the pair, with Finn grabbing Braylin and dragging her up to the hotel room. Clothes had come off, with the only sounds coming from sweaty bodies slapping against each other mixed with Braylin's moans, and Finn's grunts. Both of them had come undone together, Finn collapsing on top of Braylin. Braylin ran her fingers through Finn's sweaty hair, and with a giggle Finn rolled off of her.

"Not that wasn't fun, we need to talk" Braylin wrapped the sheet around her naked chest, and turned her head towards Finn.

"What about?" Finn asked, sliding his boxers on.

"Whatever this is. I need more Finn" Braylin told him for the 100th time since their whole arrangement had begun.

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Finn replied.

Braylin sighed, before she spoke. "Because you won't give me a straight answer, when I try to have the same conversation with you over and over. It's getting old"

"Then don't bring it up again" Finn raised his voice. "I keep telling you time and time again that I don't want a relationship right now. You and I both know how complicated our job is"

"What's wrong with being happy with me? Are you even happy?" Braylin seriously asked, curious to hear his answer.

When Finn didn't say anything, Braylin got out of bed, and started getting dressed. "There's my answer. No need to say anything more"

"What do you want from me Braylin? You agreed that this whole thing was about sex, and nothing more" Finn explained.

"Well I'm kind of sick of being used anytime you want to get your dick wet Finn. You make it seem like that's all I'm good for" Braylin fumed, putting her jeans on, along with her shoes, and t-shirt.

"You know that's not true" Finn shook his head.

"It is true! When have you ever just called me up lately and said 'Hey want to go grab lunch' or 'Do you want to grab some coffee'. It's always a text, telling me what room you're in, and you give a time when I should meet you at said room. I wish we had never started this whole thing, because now I feel stupid for wanting more from you. I was selfish enough to stay as long as I did, because I didn't want to lose you" Braylin tried her hardest not to start crying in front of him. He didn't deserve the tears that were threatening to fall.  

Finn sat there in silence, not really sure what to say, as she packed her suitcase. Braylin turned him, the tears welling up in her eyes, were now streaming down her cheeks.

"I've fallen in love with you" She says through sobs. He looks over at her from his spot on the end of the bed, and just shakes his head.

"You can't love me. We've been over this. I'm not the relationship type. We agreed this was nothing more than sex when this whole thing started between us" He simply replied, noticing more tears falling down her cheeks.

Wiping the tears off her cheeks with the sleeves of the sweatshirt she was wearing which happened to be his, she picked her head up, before her feet hit the ground. "Then we're done here. Whatever this was is now over"

"You don't mean that" His face suddenly fell, his whole body turning towards where she stood.

"I do mean it. We both knew something like this was going to happen, so I'm ending this now. When we're at work, we act professional, other than that we have nothing to do with each other" She replied sniffling.

He shook his head. "Don't do this"

"I didn't do anything. I wanted to mean more to you then just a fuck buddy, but it's clear that all you want is to run around and fuck everything that walks like a little boy. Grow up. I'm done with this, and I'm done with you" She added in, grabbing her bags, and taking a last look at the guy she's fallen for, leaving him and her feelings for him behind.

As much as Braylin tried to forget Finn, she knew that she couldn't erase him from her memory and more importantly from her heart. The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts, as she answered it, not looking at the name. "Hello?"

"Bray it's me. Please don't hang up" Finn's soft voice spoke on the other end.

"Finn please. I really can't talk to you right now" Braylin told him, tears beginning to well up in her eyes once again.

"Then just listen. I really owe you explanation, it's been a year"  

"Exactly it's been a year Finn. You could have given your explanation a year ago"

Braylin heard Finn sigh on the other end of the phone. "Let's just leave everything in the past where it belongs Finn. I gotta go" Braylin ended the call, and locked her phone. Avoiding him at all costs was going to be harder than she thought. Getting herself off the curb, she headed back into the building, her eyes looking everywhere to make sure she didn't run in to Finn yet again. Heading towards the girl's locker room, she needed to get her head around the whole Finn situation. On her walk, she came across Eric Young of Sanity.

"Well well well. Look what we have here" Eric eerily said with a creepy smile.

"Eric" Braylin squeaked out. She was obviously creeped out by him a little bit.

"Aren't you pretty" Eric added in.

"Thanks. If you would excuse me" Braylin said trying to push past him.

"Hold on there just a minute" Eric reached out, before grabbing her wrist tightly.

"Ouch Eric that hurts" Braylin winced at the pain, shooting up and down her arm.

"What's going on here?" They heard a voice say say from behind them. The 2 looked to where the voice came from, and Tye Dillinger stood there.

"Nothing. Nothing at all" Eric let go of Braylin's wrist, before walking away.

"You alright?" Tye asked, walking closer to where Braylin stood.

"Yeah, I'm fine thanks Tye" Braylin offered him a smile, rubbing the red spot that was now starting to appear where Eric had grabbed her.

"No problem. See ya" Tye grinned before walking away.

Braylin stood there, before making her way towards the women's locker room. Once she reached her destination, without even knocking she walked in. "Ugh I have no idea what I'm going to about this whole Finn situation". She looked up hoping to see her friends, but there in front of her was Finn sat on one of the benches, with Charley Caruso on his lap, and his lips were attached to hers. Braylin's eyes got wide, and her mouth dropped open, but no words were coming out. Quickly leaving the locker room, before anyone saw her, her heart was about ready to come out of her chest. Her breathing had gotten heavy, and her eyes still widely open.  Braylin felt sick to her stomach, and the only thing she could think of was the reason he didn't want a relationship with her, was because she wasn't what he was looking for at that time. Apparently, he changed his mind.  Before either of them saw her, she hid against the wall, not wanting to be seen. She saw Finn walk out, not noticing Braylin standing there. Braylin's mind immediately went wandering.  

What was really going on between Finn and Charley?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HEY EVERYONE IT'S ASHLEY HERE BACK WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER! A HUGE THANK YOU TO EVERYONE THAT LEFT COMMENTS, REBLOGGED, AND LIKED THE FIRST CHAPTER, YOU GUYS ROCK HARDCORE! I APOLOGIZE IF THIS CHAPTER ISN'T AS GOOD AS THE FIRST ONE, I'M STILL NEW TO WRITING, AND I PROMISE I'M TRYING MY BEST! SO PLEASE ENJOY, AND PLEASE DON'T BE AFRAID TO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!  

P.S. I DON'T OWN FINN, OR ANYONE AFFILIATED WITH WWE. I ONLY OWN BRAYLIN, AND ANY OTHER CHARACTERS YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE!