#starting a new and probably infrequent tag i guess

[shootingstarrfish]

i'll tell yall about a funny obm dream i had a while ago, all my belphie dreams have been scams so far i want a refund >:v

so i can only assume id just been on an outing with the brothers and it was the end of the day. they were all squished into my itty bitty car to the point where asmo was sitting on my lap while i was driving (it was weird dream logic so he kept alternating between sitting on my lap and sitting on the floor at my feet??) of course lucifer being the insufferable eldest sibling was in the passenger seat beside me, belphie was directly behind me and i believe levi was beside him in the middle? i cant remember what satan mammon and beel were doing lolll they were never particularly relevant in this one but i know they were there

anyway i tell them all we're almost at the train station and ill drop them off there and it should be easy to get home by train, and i hear a chorus of groans behind me so i figure it's not too far out of my way to just to drive them directly home and decide to offer to do so, to which they all cheer except lucifer and...

i hear belphies voice directly behind me suddenly try to get my attention, and i get really excited because belphie is talking to me. i turn around as best as i can to face him "oh whats up belphie?" i ask casually, trying not to seem too excited or anything. im curious though, again it's belphie we're talking about. i have to admit im happy he's talking to me. clearly in this dream au im quietly pining after him so im delighted. he shuffles around a bit, not speaking yet. i think to myself that he looks very cute. i wonder what he's gonna say. is this the development of our dream au relationship? he awkwardly opens his mouth to speak:

"uhh, i think i'd rather walk home honestly..."

my entire world shatters. the one person i wanted to be there suddenly wants to leave? (for some reason ignoring that asmo, who i also love very much, is sitting on my lap) i try not to seem too upset tho and let him leave to walk.

i set up my GPS and play some music, i specifically decide to play anime openings because i know levi will vibe with it. he starts trashing my taste in music

and then i woke up

[siarven]

I made this for cara but thought I should use it to FINALLY make a proper pinned post on here! (image descriptions in alt text)

Hello everyone (:

I thought I'd use this to properly re-introduce myself. These days I have a lot going on irl, so I'm not as interactive on here as I used to be. However, I love making new friends and getting to know their projects :D Some of my most important friends are from here, even if most of them are no longer active on writeblr (we have migrated to discord), so if you think we'd vibe pls shoot me a message!!

What you can expect:

Started out as an artblr, then turned into a writeblr, now it's mostly me collecting inspiration, art and writing references, with some infrequent original writing wip/art posts ✴︎ — more info about tags and writing below the cut — ✴︎

✴︎ — #queer tag - I reblog a lot of queer related posts, particularly about aro/ace and gender related topics

✴︎ — #inspirational - art, writing, photography, nature/environmental issues related topics, history, paleontology, archaeology; things I find inspiring and fascinating :D

✴︎ — i love all of the creatures, fictional or real, but less in a "cute videos" and more in a "I love how our world works" type way. I worked at a wildlife sanctuary for a year after school and learned a lot there. one day i will be the forever home for an old cat nobody else wants

✴︎ — sometimes I still post art and or writing, though I guess there'll be more art on Cara if you wanna follow me there (less AI threat)

✴︎ — i study concept art, work as a freelance illustrator, and am currently working on my MA thesis project "Fragments of the Infinite"

✴︎ — my main wip novel (Dream's Shadow) is probably finally getting close to being Finished. Feels somewhat surreal. idk if it's even worth querying it because it really doesn't fit into the current publishing world but it's not actually finished yet anyway so... we can worry about that later

✴︎ — very into fantasy with cool worldbuilding in particular. don't much care for elves/dwarves/.. fantasy preindustrial england type worlds, but dungeon meshi is my current obsession so if it's deeply developed and interesting enough I don't really mind :)

✴︎ — hopepunk my most beloved! i do love when characters get put through the wringer to get to their hopeful ending though. Sometimes, things are tragic in a bittersweet way, and that is okay too

✴︎ — deeply nuanced, complicated, messy morally grey characters driving the narrative

I am open to tag games, but will probably only manage to respond to like 10% of them... it's not you, it's me

Always open for DMs or asks <3

I try to tag everything as well as I can, if i forget, ask to tag <3

If you're into TMA, I have a podcast/TMA blog @moth-song-archives; my rambling animals/shitposts/memes/other fandoms/... blog is @lirhin, and I have a dedicated art blog @siarvenart

a hopepunk dark fantasy story with creepy/horror elements set in another world; small scope that transitions into epic fantasy later on

Status: draft 6.5 completed at 141k; currently mini-beta round. First in a trilogy

✴︎ —1st, 2nd and 3rd person limited, present tense ✴︎ — hopepunk, sibling dynamics, dysfunctional family, power of kindness & love, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, secrets, tragedy, lies, betrayal, loss of innocence, holding on & letting go, cute creatures, (in)humanity, trees, religion & belief, growing up, monsters, dreams, nightmares.

When Ava and her parents arrive at the hospital, they find her older brother Ben in a deeply unnatural coma - and nobody can tell them what happened. Despite the magical abilities of the Asim Healers, there seems to be no way to save him. But then, why do they still keep him alive? As Ava slowly learns the magnitude of how terrible Ben's situation (and impossible his future) truly are, she finds herself embroiled in a larger conflict, ready to hook its claws into her as well. And the one person she cares about most - who always had her back - is gone. So despite everything, there's only really one choice: Find out how to save him and try anyways.

the travel journal of a young scientist, documenting the cultures, places, people and creatures she encounters on the way (art/text)

Status: storyboard/script 2nd draft completed; beta feedback

✴︎ —1st person present ✴︎ — 66 double pages of art accompanied by ~10k text ✴︎ — hopepunk, (body) horror, religion & belief, nihilism vs making your own meaning, platonic love, queer characters, queer-embracing worldbuilding, transitioning with magical body horror means, mental & physical trauma, light & dark, deep worldbuilding, eldritch monsters, loss of innocence, SO MANY creatures

Features: a tidally locked planet orbited by 5 moons and populated by giant eldritch monsters; two trans aroace main characters; body horror; so much art; the most gratuitous worldbuilding project; character driven narrative

When the fifth moon hatches during Thorn's own naming ritual, making her one of 2 people who saw it happen, she knows she's been chosen. But back at home, nobody believes what she saw, choosing to instead take the moon's disappearance as a sign of celebration as it mirrors religious scriptures. So Thorn sets out to find physical proof, and uses the opportunity to document her travels. She doesn't know that her view of the world will be thoroughly challenged, but she also doesn't know about the friends she'll make <3

I have various other wips, some of them are linked in my header. I'll return to them at some point, but these 2 are my current projects for 2024:)

[sepia-stained-sunset]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @cephalog0d💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

79, 130!! (I wayy underguessed before I checked)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

DC (specifically the Batfam), but I do occasionally write for any piece of media that catches my eye

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Chaos; An Unfortunate Universal Constant , Play Stupid Games, Win Stupider Little Siblings , Keep My Body From The Fire , Days I Have Held (Days I Have Lost) and Infinity Times Infinity Times Infinity in that order (No surprises there honestly. I, too, am a fan of batfam shenanigans first and foremost)

5. Do you respond to comments?

No, but I do read every single one and I cherish them all<333 They make my day🫶

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This one's tough because I'm a sucker for happy endings so I try and drive the characters towards them (or towards some semblance of them), but I guess either The Longing Will Outlive or Where All Things Are Silent because I like my Brutalia angsty with a side of emotional hurt.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All That Remains but because it was my take on Damian and Dick trying to reach out to each other when they first started as Batman and Robin, I'd say the ending is more hopeful than happy, but also considering who we're talking about, that's about as close to happy as they'll get probably

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really, or if there is any, I've never seen it (and I'm happy to leave it that way!)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. I'd never say never, but both reading-wise and writing-wise they don't really appeal to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, so hopefully no?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I would be beyond excited if any were!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but I'd love to, especially if it's with a friend:)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Brutalia. As evidenced by my Tumblr blog and the fact that I never shut up about them

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Oh let's not even go there...

16. What are your writing strengths?

I honestly have no idea. I'd like to say descriptions and metaphors, because those are the things that draw me to other people's works, so I'd love to think that I have a similar strength.

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh too many to count!! The worst is probably that I can't sit down to write unless my brain thinks I'm in the Goldilocks-zone for writing, which occurs pretty infrequently, because my brain also likes to keep handing me new goalposts to determine the 'perfect' time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

For languages I speak, as a reader, it breaks my immersion completely when there's a language-switch in the fic unless it's something I expected from the start. I have a similar problem as a writer too, since translating in your brain quick enough to keep ahold of dialogue ideas is a real pain, so I try and avoid it as far as possible.

19. First fandom you wrote for? 

Batfam, because I looked at the thousands upon thousands of comics they have available and I thought 'hmm..my blorbos need to appear in more content'

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Oh boy...probably Infinity Times Infinity Times Infinity because I wrote it in a series of perfect afternoons and it's the fic that made me happiest after I finished (although I have been informed that the fic itself is a tear-jerker)

No pressure tags for @love-laugh-daydreamarevolt, @roseandgold137 and anyone else who wants to join in<3

[terresdebrume]

Buh bye 2021

(Aka : Oh look, I missed the day... oh well)

I don't think the whole planet has entered the future yet, tho y'all will join us soon enough, I figure :P

Anyway. Last year was... A Year. I started it with the realization that I would never see my dear Pouet again, and that hurt unbelievably hard. It took me a long while to get used to it and I'm still now okay with her absence, but I'm used to it now, I guess.

Then we had a lockdown (which I thought was in 2020 but no, that's the rest of the world) then some "social dialogue" at work that started off with the Big Big Boss lying to us in the first 10 minutes...so now I'm jobless xD I mean, I'm glad of it because I really didn't want to work there anymore but it's still not something that can last too long x)

I also lost my paternal grandfather, which, well. We didn't have much of a relationship so it's not too hard in itself, but it did bring to the forefront the fact that my parents aren't getting any younger and I'm far away and I'd like to have a relationship with my dad again if I can so...lots of questions I suppose, which was a bit intense.

Fortunately for me, the second half of the year provided some pretty good improvements : new, much bigger apartment, a kids' class that I really liked, a new kitten !!

Okay, so the kitten came in at at time when I was already overworked and super tired, with fairly intense medical needs, and he was really a strain for the last two months of the year but he's ready to join us in the rest of the apartment now, and I get to watch him play with Am (and since they both need a lot of attention I'm hoping they'll keep each other busy xD) and we're getting to smoother waters now, meaning I get to enjoy the cats more !

Creativity wise, I didn't quite get to write as much as I wanted to, but I had a blast making a lot of fic covers so I'll probably do some more in the future (when I'm done mourning my canva education account ;_;). Besides, I still did manage to publish a little over 18k words of actual fanfiction AND work on my witcher project for Nano* (I got to 25k and frankly given my levels of exhaustion, I'm pretty damn proud of myself for it xD) So...actually not bad, all things considered x)

I'm also having like. Feels about another concept hanging around my tags for the Witcher, and signed up for both the Superbat Reverse Bang and the Yennefer Big Bang so hopefully that'll motivate me to keep going.

AND on top of all of that: I just sweeped my bedroom for the first time since October. So, against all the expectations I had going in (and some of the vibes along the way) 2021 was not my best year but I'm at least starting 2022 on a good note, and I really can't complain about that x)

*I'm not giving more details than that anymore because I'd like to try and enter it for the next Witcher Bigbang but I will say that I'm deeply grateful to @weresehlat for indulging my ramblings about it at very infrequent times of the year.

[kanzakinao]

tagged a while back by @rukinosaki ! thanks so much michelle! 🤗💖💖

why did you choose your URL?

because of her 🥺💞💕

i don’t post liar game as much anymore, but nao is still so so dear to me with her honesty and kindness and very being! still can’t believe i was lucky enough to snag her url tbh! 

any side blogs? if you have some, name them and why you have them.

i have @maelstromsbolt - which is an attempt of a side blog but i haven’t actually used it in abt two years fsdfs. i intended it to be a place where i reblog more text heavy/resource posts for myself and for fandoms i don’t rly blog abt - should probably get back to using it lol

i also have @spherehunting and @saltflakesnow, but i only really use them for testing out themes that catch my eye!

how long have you been on tumblr?

according to my archive......... since 2010 💀💀💀

do you have a queue tag?

nowadays, no! i tend to reblog in bursts now rather than putting things in a queue. back when i was more active i think i used #uniqueuesity and #q p infrequently

why did you start your blog in the first place?

got bored of gaia online and was in my pop punk bandom phase lmfao

why did you choose your current icon/pfp?

yuffie’s dffoo stickers are the cutest thing... i cleaned one up just to use em! 🥰

why did you choose your current header?

i recently changed my theme for yuffie’s dlc release! and yuffie’s magical girl introduction is just perfect!! unreal how much that brought a smile to my face tbh i love yuffie and her dramatics soooo much 💚💣✨

what’s your post with the most notes?

this one! made back when i was your local jo harvelle editor for the supernatural fandom lmao. not my most favorite edit tbh - though it’s a nice reminder of my old editing style i guess!

how many people do you follow?

78......... i know few of them are deactivated/inactive too lol... i should def clean up my follow list and follow more ppl 😅😅

have you ever made a shitpost?

nah don’t think so

how often do you use tumblr?

daily/every other day or once a week if i get caught up w work. i try to catch up to the posts i missed and tend to like posts to reblog for later!

did you ever have a fight/argument with another user? who won?

uhh i don’t think so!

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this post’? 

signal boosting is good! i can understand why ppl may not rb them tho. it’s also important imo to fact check the post’s contents or at least search online a bit to verify that you’re not spreading any misinformation

do you like tag games? 

yea they’re fun! 😊👍

do you like ask games?

sure!!

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? 

prooobably some ppl in the video game fandom? not super sure lmao

do you have a crush on a mutual? 

maybe a couple friend crushes here and there but nothing past that lol

rules: choose 1 picture from your camera roll without downloading anything new to sum up your personality and then tag 5 people

i don’t rly save a lotta memes and w/e on my phone tbh but probably this one bc it best represents me w the content i reblog:

tagging: @collabels​ @lancres​ @ghostmay​ @catboydeklolynch​ @harukaozawa​ @createandconstruct​ (only if you want to! 💖💞💕)

[cowboyshit]

twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th!  where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her!  biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

[qonqr]

I’m Still Here

Many of you may have been asking yourself where did Silver go? Is anyone still working on QONQR?  I admit I’ve been very quiet the past year and from the outside, it looks like not much is going on.

 Before I give my QONQR update I want to share a major accomplishment for me. I’m a little less of a hoarder than I was a month ago. As the 11th year anniversary approached, I decided I had too much old QONQR merchandise I needed to get in the hands of my players. However, I hate shipping. I should be the spokesperson for one of those shipping providers that make shipping easy because I hate doing it so much. Many of you know that the player Rayndel has an Etsy store where she sells QONQR merchandise with my permission. I sent her a 65lb (30kg) box of QONQR stuff. Coffee cups, T-shirts, dog tags and stickers. She is liquidating all of it for me. You can find it all right here.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/DragonHoardCrafts?section_id=19648949

 2020 and 2021 have been challenging for most people, and I’m no exception.  Both our kids are off to college. We are getting older and so are our extended families. Medical issues become more frequent for us and them. The stress of the pandemic doesn’t help. There are days when I can sit at my computer all day, and never write a line of code. Things are hard, they impact our ability to work as hard as we once did.

 A little over two weeks ago, QONQR hit its 11th birthday. The milestone passed quietly. I always spend time reflecting on how QONQR has changed my life and the stories you’ve shared about how it has changed yours. We’ve built something great together. Together we keep it going.

 Despite outward appearances. Things are happening at QONQR. I am working, albeit at an admittedly slow pace. I’ve let go of the stress of pushing QONQR as fast as I can, and instead I’m working on QONQR at a pace that is comfortable. It is important to me and my family that I end my day without being drained of all my energy by the awful decisions and quality that Apple and Google hand me every day.

 The next release of QONQR will include the following features. Many of these are mostly done, so I’m happy to share them, with the caveat that I have no idea when these will actually hit the store. Tons of testing is still needed.

 New Sync Lock Rules

 Sync lock will now last much longer, perhaps a week or even a month before it automatically expires. Along with that Sync Lock Protection will also last longer. The more times you gain sync lock protection, the longer it will last. We want to protect legitimate family members from daily locks, but also want to avoid situations where multi-scoper can get infrequent help to unlock an army of devices and accounts. In addition to longer locks, Sync lock may also hurt resource collection with your bases depending on how play testing goes.

 As with everything pertaining to multi-scoping, it is a blurry line between stopping those who play unfair, and those that are punished for inviting family and friends to play.

 Notifications

I have wanted push notifications for most of the past 10 years. In fact, we were very close to having them implemented about 5-7 years ago, but Google changed their push notification system. We used a unified messaging system created by Microsoft to push to both Google and Apple simultaneously. There were incompatibilities between the new and the old Google system for a long time. We gave up on trying to finish that implementation back then, waiting for Google and Microsoft to get their stuff fixed, and it was years before it became a priority again.

 I spent most of the past 3-4 months working on notification. This area is quite possibly one of the worst technical implementations I’ve had to work with in all my time working in software. For example, if you kill an iPhone application, you also remove the ability to get push notifications until the next time you start the app. It appears to be almost random when Android will decide to beep your phone when receiving a notification, and when it will be silently added to the notification center. For both Apple and Google, the documentation is frustratingly inaccurate or out of date. There are multiple different ways a notification can be processed depending on whether the application was terminated by the user, suspended by the operating system, in the background or in the foreground. Was the notification scheduled locally or sent from a remote server?  Honestly, as a developer, it would be difficult to purposely design a worse system.

 The good news is that I believe I have it working as good as it can possibly work. In the next release you will be able to enable or disable notifications as a whole, or selectively choose which notification you want to receive. Notifications will include: Atlantis, New Wire messages, Mentions in Chat and Forums, Bots and Bases Full.

 A Major Overhaul to the Scope

The changes to Sync Lock mandated that overheat have additional logic to control bots and energy regeneration. More significantly, if we want to have a notification that your scope is full, so I needed to know exactly when the scope would be full.  Currently your regeneration rate is based on the number of launches in the past hour. Launching a few seconds before or after an old launch rolls off that 1 hour mark can mess up the prediction of when you will be full again. To make that prediction accurately, without checking every minute to see, “Are my bots full now”, we changed the formula for when bots will be full, and scheduled a notification based on that time.

 The new regeneration is very similar to the old, but we predict you may get 1 or 2 more launches per hour. I’m hedging the formula towards more not fewer launches to make sure this is seen as a positive change.

 As long as we are messing with the scope, let’s talk about the Bot Regen Accelerator.  Hard core players have pointed out that players who launch on a timer, always hitting the “optimal” launch interval, don’t gain any advantage when purchasing this $0.99 upgrade. In the new release this upgrade will reduce your overheat level by 1 level and you will never be in maximum overheat due to deploying bots. The impact of the upgrade will be noticeable by everyone with this change. The name of this upgrade will probably change to “Scope Coolant” or “Heat Diffuser”. Send me your name ideas.

  Subscriptions, Ads and Elite Players

This is a change that probably won’t be in the next release, but it is something I’m thinking about before the end of the year. Apple has had a bug in their subscription logic for years. If you purchase a subscription on an iPhone, then get a new iPhone, you need to cancel the subscription in the App Store, then renew from your new phone. Apple keeps charging you, but the new device can’t see the subscription, so QONQR doesn’t know you are a subscriber. Why wouldn’t Apple fix this? Well Apple only takes half the percentage of a subscription after the first year. By making you start a new subscription, they can double their cut of the money you pay QONQR for the subscription. Another problem with subscriptions is that they result in many support requests because they honestly aren’t 100% reliable in either Apple or Google’s implementation.

 Many people know that earlier in the year, Apple introduced a change to advertising that blocks tracking. This is great in theory, and I get it as a consumer that I don’t like to be tracked, but this tracker blocking also blocks my ability to make any revenue on advertising. Why would I continue to give away free advertising?

 Elite players are those that have spent over $100 in QONQR over the life of their gaming experience. Over the years the benefits of being “Elite” have dwindled. Features have changed, and incentives have ended. I’d like to invest more time and energy to build features for players that continue to support QONQR but I think it makes more sense to lower the bar and make the benefits for “active” spenders.

 With these three things in mind, there is a chance that QONQR will move to a monthly “pass” option rather than a subscription. There seems to be a trend with games, where players buy a monthly pass that offers benefits, rather than using subscriptions. Subscriptions are buggy and in the case of Apple, a shady business practice.

 The same benefits available to subscribers would remain under the “pass”, but you would have to explicitly purchase the pass each month.  Secondary missions may move to the “pass” model with non-pass players getting only a handful of secondary missions per month. Ads would be completely removed from the app in this scenario since they no longer generate much revenue.

  What’s in the Plans for 2022?

 If you have read my blog over the years, you know that Apple and Google make it harder and harder to stop cheating (primarily multi-scoping).  It is being reported that Windows 11 will have the ability to run Android apps. I don’t know yet how that will impact QONQR, but I’m guessing it won’t be good. At best it will have no impact because I’ll be able to stop QONQR from running on Windows, at worst it could be a nightmare.

 March 2022 will mark the 10 year anniversary QONQR hit the Apple App Store. I can say with a high level of confidence that QONQR is now the longest running location-based, multi-platform, mobile game.

 Personally, I think 2022 needs to be a transformational year for QONQR. I’m not sure we can survive if the game doesn’t change. Apple, Google, and Microsoft have never cared about supporting mobile developers. Outrageous fees and abusive rules (recently acknowledged by the US Congress) have been part of the ecosystem from the start. There are dozens of apps that you can download from the official Google Play store that make it a simple tap to attempt to hack and manipulate an Android app, so players can do something the developer is attempting to prohibit. Once again Microsoft broke the tools I use to help secure the app from hackers, causing weeks of work to find a solution that would maintain the same level of security.  Apple and Google both purposely hide information from developers that would help them ensure real people are using their apps instead of bots. They do this under the façade of privacy, but ignore simple solutions that could maintain privacy, while helping developers ensure the integrity of how their apps are used.

 I’ve said for years, the only way to stop hackers and cheaters in QONQR is to make it irrelevant. That requires a major shift in gameplay. Together, you the players and me the developer, we need to decide if we want QONQR to have such a major shift. I don’t know what that shift would look like, but 2022 might be the year we figure it out.

 2020 was a year of making sure QONQR can survive. Through tons of work that year, massive software rewrites and updates, I was able to cut the cost of hosting QONQR. Today the cost of hosting QONQR all year, matches what we spent in three months during 2019. So far 2021 has been a year of slow work toward significant improvements to the game, but without major strategic impact to your daily playing. I’ve taken my time to avoid burn out. I’m enjoying the pace of my current work week. It has been good for my family and me.

 I’m not sure what 2022 will look like for QONQR yet, but I’m excited to try something new. Maybe we’ll break things, maybe we will create something ten times better than what we have had for the last decade. Time will tell. We’ll figure it out together.

 Thanks for keeping the lights on.

-Scott (aka Silver)

[babysdrivers]

thank u @jedivszombie for tagging me 💗

1. why did u choose your url?

i saved it after seeing baby driver (my main url at the time was edgarvvright so it matched) + when i made this blog I thought it was fitting bc u know. babies be driving

2. any sideblogs?

yes, this one! also a side for saving art refs and one for saving writing refs. my main is @andysambcrg

3. how long have u been on tumblr?

since 2010 😳

4. do u have a queue tag?

i don't queue on this blog but on my main everything is queued so a queue tag is kinda pointless? but i used to use the tag 'kids today with their texting and queues' when i mostly posted spn

5. why did u start your blog?

i was always scared of posting f1 on my main so i thought it was best to move to a different blog

6. why did u choose your icon?

i just remember seeing seb with the towel on his head and thinking it was super cute? and now here we are 3 years later

7. why did u choose your header?

happy seb 😋

8. what's your post with the most notes?

honestly i have no idea. on my main i have some really big posts but here i think my most is like a couple thousand, probably a dumb text post

9. how many mutuals do u have?

not a clue, is there even a way to check that lmao? also having a sideblog makes it difficult to track bc i follow from my main

10. how many followers do u have?

1,527 - have been losing followers a lot since last year bc i haven't been able to liveblog as much rip 💔

11. how many people do u follow?

534 but idk how many of them are f1 blogs bc again i follow from main. i don't follow many new people bc my dash is already Too Much

12. have u ever made a sh*tpost?

idk what that means tbf? i have made dumb posts i guess

13. how often do u use tumblr?

i check it a couple times a day but don't usually spend a long time on it

14. did u ever have a fight with another blog?

only with anons who are too scared to fight me face to face :)

15. how do u feel abt "u need to reblog" posts

i don't feel anything abt them i usually just ignore them, i just don't like telling people what to do! also it'd be hypocritical from me bc for a couple of years i reblogged infrequently bc i had this anxiety thing where posts had to match each other? it's hard to explain look at my main circa 2018 to see what i mean sjsj

16. do u like tag games?

yeah! makes me feel less like i'm yelling into the void bc it reminds me people perceive me

17. do u like ask games?

yes but i don't usually get many responses so they kinda make me feel sad

18. which mutual do u think is famous?

uhh lou, zeal, and bryce are all legends and sometimes i wonder why they follow me, a humble street urchin

19. do u have a crush on a mutual?

no

tagging: @mahindras @alexanderalbons @teddy-laurie @callumilott @allthewayabt @foolishhitt

[imnotrevealingmyname]

For fanfic writer questions: All. Of. Them. Alternatively: 15. 21 and 25

Lmao 😂😂😂😂❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm doing all of them.

1. Phone, on Google docs. My phone is an absolute mess.

2. Fanfiction? About two years ago. Don't ask about original stuff. Oof

3. Loki fics, poems.

4. Both? Both. Both is good.

5. Terrible. Ok I'm kidding, I'd describe it as poetic, in a way? Overly poetic is good, ig. But it's also overly dramatic- something I hate seeing in people. Which makes me a hypocrite, ig. Lmao.

But in all honesty, I'm pretty flexible in my writing. Even while writing poems, I can easily shift from writing about EXTREMELY dark stuff (trust me, you don't wanna know) to something light and fluffy, which is a good thing, I guess? But it also feels a bit suffocating sometimes because I have a habit of reading my stuff from the POV of a reader, once I'm done with writing it. So I try to make it as bearable as possible. People nowadays don't always like intense stuff, and since I'm a freaky gal who started reading Shakespeare in third grade, it becomes difficult for me to give up my very intense style of writing. I probably don't make sense, but, uh. Whatever. Point is, I'm not perfect.

6. Random stuff. Seriously. My cupboard can set me off in a writing frenzy- most of the time,however, I don't even know what inspiration is. I meet her very infrequently- so infrequently that she's very forgettable :')

7. No? Sometimes? A couple of my fics were inspired by songs, I suppose. I also unpublished one, if I remember correctly.

8. The title. Oh god, that always makes me lose sleep. And also, the descriptions. Either I'm overly descriptive, or I end up writing a whole one shot in less than 300 words. Why Am I An Idiom is going to be the name of my autobiography, if I ever write one. (And yes, it's is Idiom. Long story.)

9. I don't really have any fixed place for writing. I've been known to write poems in the bathroom, so

10. Do I have a current WIP? I honestly have no idea what I'm doing with them. All I've been writing lately are one shots.

11. I don't count, but I have over 45 drafts

12. If you're talking about fics, then there's this fic I wrote, called Alien Ardour, a few months ago. I unpublished it due to several reasons, but I honestly love it. Also, I really like my one shots Scandalous and Silenced.

13. Like in total? What's 63+48+9? And it's ongoing.

14. Loki. Duh. And death. I love writing about death :')

15. OCs if it's multichapter, reader insert (NO Y/N, PLEASE, TAKE THAT AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS POSSIBLE) if it's a one shot.

16. Repetitive question.

17. The Soul Trade. A few chapters were for aesthetics, but ok.

18. Loki. Only Loki. And uh.... Drarry. That's my fricking OTP.

19. @caffiend-queen. I love several other authors but she's always the first to come to my mind when I'm asked this question.

20. No

21. Coffee shop AU 😂 I don't even regret this

22. Idiots to lovers

23. 2 years. Fun fact: my first fic was a Drarry fic. I love it so much that it's still on Wattpad, even though I've not updated it in like a year.

24. Haven't we all?

25. Motivation? Who? What? Okay I'm kidding, I read fanfics. Seriously. Either I reread my own and edit them to sorta get back the feel of writing, or I end up reading a new fic. Smut who?

26. I was eight when I started writing, for heaven's sake. I don't remember.

27. If you're talking about fanfiction, then it's definitely @ohhhmyloki and @latent-thoughts (Tumblr won't let me tag y'all, for some reason). I used to write before I read their works but I quite literally began my journey with smut after reading their fics. And I don't think any of my fics written before that even exist anymore. But if we're talking about writing in general, then it's O Henry and Bernard Shaw. Maybe Gerald Durrell. Did I mention that I love Gerald Durrell?

28. Loki.

29. Idiotic. Messy. Freaky.

30. Um, I don't really wanna say this, but it's Just A Kiss Goodnight. It may be my most 'famous' fic, but it's definitely not the best. For one thing, I wrote it in less than a week, and I haven't edited it. And there's no fucking smut. I'm not saying that smut is necessary to make a fic good, but it doesn't have any intimacy in it. It's definitely not boring, I'll give it that, but it's childish.

31. Wtf is the difference

32. What kinda question is this

33. One shot? Depends. I can be freaky fast and write one in less than fifteen minutes, or I can take literal weeks to finish one.

34. Dude, what's the normal font in android? I have no idea. But one of my favourites is monotype corsiva, when I'm on my laptop.

35. Both.

36. I don't

37. All of my works, oof 😂 well, no. But there's this fic I've written, called Let's Get Drunk Together. And another. It's called Three Isn't A Crowd, After All. Cringy af

38. Smut. Dark poetry.

39. WHY ARE SO MANY QUESTIONS REPEATED? It's idiots to lovers, ffs

40. On Tumblr? Average is 60, I think.

41. Yes

42. Writing.

43. All the time

44. Yes

45. I can be as thirsty and smutty as I want without being judged, bless fanfiction.

46. The "WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO MY HEART WHAT ARE YOU DOING AHHHHHHHHHHHH AND WHY AM I SO AROUSED AT THIS TIME OF ALL TIMES AND WHY IS THIS ANGSTY GIVE ME FLUFF" feeling. Not to brag, but I'm very good at that.

47. I can do anything and everything I want. I can make a unicorn fuck a werewolf and nobody will judge me. Or maybe they will.

48. Yes- Wattpad and Ao3.

49. Google docs, word.

50. Fucking Y/N. Like, not literally fucking Y/N, but uh- I mean, I'd totally fuck my clone? But Y/N isn't me, I hate Y/N. And I hate people who just comment on your fic to promote their own fics. We write for your happiness, please at least do the courtesy of appreciating that and not disrespecting our efforts. Most of us spend nights lying awake to give you stuff to read. And also, people who just comment to say,"Update," two minutes after you've just updated. That's RUDE.

51. High school AU

52. Cock, pussy, salacious, sepulchral, pulchritudinous....... I don't have a one track mind I swear

53. Giggled. FUCKING GIGGLED. I don't understand WHY people have this tendency of writing,"she giggled," and,"he chuckled." I don't know why but GIGGLED sounds like something not EVEN a simpering schoolgirl would do. I don't giggle. Not once have I seen peeps who write GIGGLE associate GIGGLE with men, which is something that I find very disturbing and sexist. Call me biased, go on. But I might not even have been here now because I'm from THAT orthodox and sexist a family, and if they'd been any more sexist, I'd have been killed after birth, so don't even dare to come near me with a ten foot pole if you're sexist.

54. Well, yes, I think. I certainly don't hate it, or I wouldn't write.

Dang, I spent over half an hour writing that. Hope that made even an iota of sense.

[nooooooooooooooooooooone]

50 questions tag game

@slytherinoftarth Yay, thanks for the tag :)

What is the colour of your hairbrush? I don’t brush my hair (it’s super curly, so to brush is instant death), but my wide-toothed comb is light blue

Name a food you never eat: oysters bleurgh

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Hmmm well I don’t mind being a bit cold but I hate being too warm so I’m gonna go with too warm

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Helping my mum full-screen a livestreamed church service from Geneva bc she is technically challenged

What's your favourite candy bar? ooooh I love those old raspberry choc logs

Have you ever been to a professional sports game? Maybe three times? Once to the cricket and twice to rugby (World Cup games)

What was the last thing you said out loud? “*GASP* HELLO MR POODLE” which is just an embarrassing thing i say to my dog when I want to get his attention. it’s not even his name lol

What is your favourite ice cream? Gonna go with cookies and cream or anything cheesecakey

What was the last thing you had to drink? Waterrrr

Do you like your wallet? I mean it’s tiny and it’s falling to bits and it doesn’t latch properly any more but we’ve been through a lot the two of us

What was the last thing you ate? Weet-Bix with milk (which totally gives away my nationality)

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? During lockdown i’ve literally been wearing the same three raggedy old outfits on rotation, so... no

What's the last sporting event you watched? Probably when I had to live-caption the tennis for work. Can’t even remember which comp it was

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? not a connoisseur, but so long as it’s plenty salty and kinda buttery I’m happy

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? One of my best mates from uni

Ever go camping? We used to go ALL THE TIME as kids, up until I was like 14. Those are some of my best memories

Do you take vitamins? Nooope

Do you go to church every Sunday? My parents do, but I haven’t for ages

Do you have a tan? Hhahahahahahahahaha. no.

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? PIZZA

Do you drink your soda through a straw? Not usually

What colour socks do you usually wear? depends how much my shoes reveal. If you can see them, black or white. If you can’t, it’s literally anyone’s guess

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? *whispers very quickly* istilldon’thavemylicence

What terrifies you? Yikes. Many things, but a massive one is disappointing people

Look to your left. What do you see? Two loaded clothes horses and lots of paintings

What chore do you hate most? Vacuuming and mopping because I get obsessive about it and that makes me anxious

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Our neighbours across the ditch, mate. Also Steve Irwin. Also my Voice tutor from drama school

What's your favourite soda? Pepsi Max

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? I just go in, when I go, which is infrequently

What's your favourite number? I don’t know if I have one. If I did, I think it would be nine

Who's the last person you talked to? My motherrrr

Favourite cut of beef? not a massive fan of beef tbh

Last song you listened to? some romantic-era piano piece I can’t remember the name of for the life of me

Last book you read? Still Fire and Blood. I started The Silmarillion but got distracted, gotta pick it back up

Favourite day of the week? I don’t really have one. Maybe Saturday

Can you say the alphabet backwards? I’ve never tried, so probably no

How do you like your coffee? with a small amount of milk and an obscene amount of sweetener don’t judge me

Favourite pair of shoes? shoes make me nervous because my feet are too big and I have no sense of fashion, but the shoes i’m most attached to are an old second-hand pair of stage shoes that I wore as Susan in The Marriage of Figaro. The heels have worn off now, but they were clacky and fun and I got to wear long white socks, a skirt and a corset with them. I’ve never laughed so hard as I did rehearsing that show

Time you normally get up? Depends on my shift, so anywhere between 5 and midday usually

Sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets.

How many blankets are on your bed? Two - one woollen, one faux mink

Describe your kitchen plates. Ye olde willow pattern

Describe your kitchen at the moment. looking pretty respectable tbh

Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? when you say ‘favourite’...? I mean my go-to is vodka, but also I’ve had so many baaaaad experiences that the smell makes me feel physically ill

Do you play cards? hahaha no I suck at cards. I even suck at Snap

What colour is your car? um well my family car is silver-grey

Do you know how to change a tire? From American to British spelling, you mean? Of course! tire = tyre. (otherwise..........no)

Your favourite state? We lived in America for nearly four months when I was nine, and we sort of roved around the western states, visiting all the national parks - I don’t wanna pick, they were all so beautiful. But we mainly stayed in Utah

Favourite job you've had? The one I have now is good. I write captions for TV

How did you get your biggest scar? (@slytherinoftarth duuuuuuude I have dermatillomania too, what a shitshow) Not a cheerful answer, but self-harm

tagging @wildlingoftarth @resthefuture (or anyone!!!)

[inscrutable-shadow]

Broken

For @flashfictionfridayofficial​, my sixth piece. A breakup? A little over 1k tbh... From my WIP Biomech, featuring Nova Alterion (they/them), Aster Gemini (she/her) and Lana Highvale (she/her).

Content warning: alcohol use

"You're ashamed of me!"

Aster sighed. "That's not true," she said, quietly.

"Well you sure do a poor job of pretending otherwise! And you can sleep in your stupid ship tonight, I don't want to see your face again!" Nova stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Lana and Aster with a good deal of food remaining on the table, and the surrounding patrons gaping at them in surprise.

Everything had seemed fine before then. Both biomechs had been stuffing themselves full of various edibles Lana had never seen before (though they were taking the time to teach her how to eat the few things she dared to try), a little girl had been fascinated with Aster's seven-foot height and asked to take a tri-film with her, the chef who seemed to know them had brought out a cake at no charge. Lana had been having fun until the conversation had turned to an eventual return to the stars.

"I've been doing the drive burn calculations and I think I can get us back on schedule if you don't mind spending a good month in deep space with no landings, Lana." Aster took another deep draft of what was probably beer.

"Oh, uh, I guess I'll find out if I mind. I've never done that before but I'm not sure what will happen if I'm late for my assignment. Though they might give me a bit of leeway since it wasn't our fault we got hit..."

The smile fell from Nova's face a bit. "Oh... do you two have somewhere to be? The quantum drive's not really that broken is it?"

Aster blinked confusedly. "Of course it is, why would I have told you I needed to rebuild it if I didn't?"

"I thought it was, you know, an excuse to come see me and everything... You... didn't actually mean to come here at all, did you."

"I have a visiting schedule, and this was definitely early, babe. It's nice to be here and all, but I do still need to get Lana to Alpha Centauri. You did order those parts, right?"

Nova put down what they were eating. "Yeah, I just thought they'd be spares or something. You're really careful about taking care of your ship, I guess I assumed you were combining getting to see me early with giving me extra money in a way I wouldn't refuse. In my head, it was really thoughtful of you."

"I'd give you anything you asked for," mumbled Aster through more food, "you just never ask for anything and refuse what I do try to give you."

"Maybe I'd let you do things for me if I felt like you actually wanted to see me once in a while."

Aster actually stopped eating. "What?"

"You only come to see me once a year, when you do you only stay for a week or two. Your letters are short, infrequent, and newsy, and your new friend didn't even know you had a partner, did she?"

"You did refuse to answer that question," Lana reminded, unhelpfully.

"You asked me if I had a boyfriend, which is a completely different question, and I still don't have an answer for it. They're my partner, we don't use other words for each other, it's not-"

"You refuse to let anybody know I exist! Gods forbid that anyone knows the great Aster Gemini has feelings!"

"It's not about that-"

"Where's the bracelet I gave you?"

"What?"

"When we started dating ten years ago I gave you the other half of my broken-heart necklace, you wore it as a bracelet until you left and I haven't seen it since. 'I give you my heart,' I said, and you won't even wear it. Where is it?" Aster's eyes met Lana's as if looking for help, none of which she could provide.

"It's on the ship."

"Where?"

"Somewhere safe."

"You don't know!"

"Of course I know! It's in a box, under the floorplates, by the quantum drive's maintenance board."

"Oh, yes, because nothing in your entire place can look like you have a partner!"

Aster sighed. "What do you want me to say?"

"What do I- I want you to admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"That you're ashamed of me!" Lana wasn't even sure they heard Aster's quiet protests as they stormed out. The tall biomech sighed deeply once again and continued to eat.

"Wait, you're not going to go after them?" Lana stared incredulously at the still-hungry alien.

"There's little point to that. Talking to them doesn't really get them out of moods like this. Plus, someone's got to finish this food."

"You guys have this argument a lot?"

"Not infrequently."

"Also, you only come see them once a year? That's a little crazy, they must miss you something awful..."

Aster drained another pitcher of some kind of alcohol and let another sigh leak out of her. "What Nova doesn't understand, because I'm too much of an idiot to be able to tell them, is that I love them so much that I can't come see them more often. People I care about die, Lana. Always. With one hundred percent certainty. They die young and painfully. I... can't stand to lose Nova. I can't. If there's no evidence that I have... an attachment... no one will come looking for them as a way to get to me. I can disguise the visits as business, I can hide every present they give me, I can bury my emotions inside of me, and I do because I have to. If something happened to them because they chose to care about me... I'd never forgive myself." Aster's voice broke slightly, she cleared her throat and took another drink. Lana had never seen her cry.

"You should head back to Nova's. I'll finish up here. You can bring the stuff back to the ship if you like, or stay there if they'll let you..." Lana started to speak but was cut off. "No, go on. I'm liable to get blackout drunk tonight anyway..."

Lana pulled her bag off of the chair and exited the restaurant, returning to the afternoon sun and its reflection off of the oily streets and buildings. Somehow, it was no longer beautiful...

Tag list for Biomech: @n1ghtcrwler​

[honey-piie]

Rule: tag people you would like to get to know better or catch up with.

@amazingbouncingassbutt tagged me in this thing so here we go!

1. Three ships in any order

Okay I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t really been consuming much media that I’ve found to have shippable characters in it lately?? Okay so I’m sort of still a little bit stuck on queliot... also I reread the lord of the rings books recently and man... Frodo and Sam really is the relationship and I will never get over it. For a third??? Uum I guess andreil from the foxhole court is still like up there, it’s like a go to for short fics and stuff and I do love em.

2. Last song

Leon by the Japanese house I think was the last one I put on myself but I’m not sure if it’s the last one I listened to cause me and my family and cousins were all cuing songs so actually I have no idea

3. Last movie

Probably Colette I think. It’s been a few weeks and I don’t think I’ve watched anything else since but I’m not entirely sure.. I watch movies very infrequently

4. Currently reading

Oh god... the question of shame. Okay so I don’t know if some of these even count as “currently reading” anymore, like how long can it go between picking a book up for it to count as “currently reading”? Okay but the ones that are listed as such on my Goodreads right now are Ovids metamorphoses which I haven’t been actively reading for like a year and a half, Arcadia by Iain Pears which I haven’t been actively reading since September, the death of the animal by Paola Cavalieri which I doubt I’ll actually finish but I still maybe want to, the world without us by Mireille Juchau which I kinda want to finish but I’ve not picked it up in too long so I’ve forgotten a lot and that makes it a pain to get into again, and lastly whiskey when we’re dry by John Larison which has taken me more than a month to not get even 40% into but which I really want to finish cause it’s a queer “girl dressed up as boy” western, which sounds like it should be great and so far I kinda like it but it’s also a liiitle slow going. Also I’m probably gonna start assassins quest by Robin Hobb tomorrow cause I finished royal assassin yesterday and I’m really enjoying the series! so like what I’m getting out of this is that high fantasy on audiobook is really where it’s at for me right now cause that describes the last four books that I’ve actually finished

5. Currently watching

Really not much.. I’m almost finished with queer eye season 5 but that’s about it really. I’ve been debating whether or not to watch the last season of the magicians even though they fucked up big time but I’m not sure yet. Also I’m gonna watch the new season of killing eve sometime in a near future hopefully and with all the atla stuff on here right now I kinda want a rewatch

6. Currently consuming

Some toast and a cup of lemon balm and mint tea fresh from my garden. I have so much lemon balm and the mint is spreading... I don’t know what the hell to do with them except tea so yeah.. here we are... it’s good though!

7. Food I'm craving atm

Right now I’m craving everything and nothing at the same time. I’m kinda hungry which is weird considering I’ve eaten a lot this evening, but I’m also not really in any mood for anything specific. Okay that’s a lie actually.. I’m always in the mood for some chocolate, preferably something with sea salt in it

I’m gonna tag @howyoutalktoyourgrandma and @themagicalmedusa if you wanna do it!!

[twotwinks]

a thing i was tagged in a long time ago by @rochc93. i am, believe it or not, attempting to catch up on these things. i always intend to do them but it’s either not a good time when i think about them or i’m not thinking about them. sorry i’m a mess

Who were you named after?

First name, nobody bitch. That’s all me. Middle name, like twenty different characters who are important to me but all on accident because I didn’t realize we shared the name until after I’d picked it. Notable instances include Rita Rose Vrataski from Edge of Tomorrow and also Amy Rose (a recent discovery). Last name, Gary King and also because I like confusing people about my gender by deliberately using a “male” title while presenting female (though hopefully not for much longer) and also being nonbinary. (Also s/o to ladies who call themselves king instead of queen. Yes I’m thinking of Kagamine Rin in the WanOpo songs Death Should Not Have Taken Thee and Our Adventure Log Has Vanished.)

Last time you cried?

two weeks ago to the day, when my dad let our dog Koko get hit by a car, things have been Extra Bad around here since then

Do you like your handwriting?

No. When I was little everyone always used to tell me how pretty it was but then I started trying to be a Serious Writer and my penmanship degraded as a result of how fast I had to get the words out of my head. Now my mom whines all the time about how messy and illegible my writing is.

What is your favorite lunch meat?

TURKEY

Longest relationship?

Umm....about two years ago for about three months-ish? I think? Maybe two months? I don’t know, we were dating for Christmas and then I broke up with him right before Valentine’s Day because my mental health couldn’t take it. I realized I was aro shortly after. Who would’ve guessed, huh?

Do you still have your tonsils?

Yep!

Do you bungee jump?

no and i never will

What is your favorite kind of cereal?

Dude this changes like monthly. Sometimes Honey Bunches of Oats. Sometimes Frosted Flakes. Sometimes I get a ridiculously strong craving for Strawberry Awake or Lucky Charms or Honey Nut Cheerios. I just get to eat cereal so infrequently that I can’t really have a favorite, I just have to indulge whatever craving I currently have because I only get the chance to eat one box every three months or so.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

Yes because when I was little my mom ingrained into me that not untying my shoes first would ruin the backs of them way faster than they should. In all fairness we were poor and couldn’t afford to buy me new shoes that often because my feet are so sensitive that an actual comfortable pair costs $100.

Do you think you’re strong willed?

oh fuck no i mean have you ever spoken to me??? i’m the biggest baby pushover to ever live

Favorite ice cream?

Either that Death by Chocolate stuff they serve at Purdue’s dining courts sometimes or mint chocolate chip. It has to be green though or it loses something sdkhsdhk

What is the first thing you notice about a person?

Usually like their shirt, I guess? I don’t know, this isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about. Maybe it’s also if they have one of those annoying faces or voices. Or if they have a queer vibe. Look I’m not good with people ok.

Football or baseball?

Football but only because marching band and/or soccer

Favorite doughnut?

Okay this is going to sound weirdly specific but. Chocolate cake donut with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Also on a related note I once let a girl in high school copy my homework (that I myself had found the answers to on the internet, it was a really unfair English assignment). She was so happy that she said she’d buy me a donut for breakfast the next day (she made a donut run for herself once a week as a special treat). I gave her my oddly specific request, but since I knew it was kind of a rare donut to find I told her anything chocolate would work. The next day, lo and behold, she showed up with the perfect donut. She had them make it special for me (insert Discord’s pleading face emoji). That was the day I learned my lesson about judging “dumb blondes”.

What music are you listening to?

I’ve been back into Touhou doujin arrangements again lately, especially eurobeat. However I’m also hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog again so the game soundtracks and the Crush 40 albums are starting to show up in my frequent rotation on Spotify.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

The obvious choice is mint green but I could also very easily be a lime green or a glittery ruby slippers red.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

I believe I talked to my grandma a little bit on my mom’s phone not that long ago? Other than that according to my phone it looks like I took a call from my dad back in April?

Hair color?

that real deep almost black brown. i nearly got into a fistfight with some boys in second grade who insisted my hair was black. it’s not black it’s just very thick. it actually looks much lighter if you just separate a smaller chunk and look at it.

Eye color?

Hazel. Brown with some green flecks. Or possibly green with some brown flecks. Also both of my irises look different up close but you can’t tell unless you’re really up in my face.

Favorite food to eat?

pasta but it can’t have red sauce

Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings all the way

Last film you watched in the cinema?

do you really expect me to remember this. i honestly do not fucking know. i have no brain when it comes to movie theaters. i was gonna do a double feature of birds of prey and the sonic movie the tuesday before spring break (cheap prices for students!!!) but i ended up having a headache that day so i couldn’t go and then shit hit the fan and there was no theatergoing. i have tried and failed to get my parents to rent the sonic movie since. i’m very unhappy about it now that i’m hyperfixating again.

What color shirt are you wearing?

well i think it used to be white but it’s really old so now it’s like off-white. also it has a big snake on the back. i don’t even like snakes i just enjoy this shirt.

Favorite holiday?

Christmas!!! I don’t necessarily actually enjoy celebrating the holiday (thanks fam) but I love the idea behind it and the aesthetics. Also it’s peppermint season!

Beer or wine?

Listen I am super picky about alcohol. I haven’t liked any of the wine I’ve tried, but the first two wines I had other people told me it was bad (and then they took me out and bought me alcohol I would actually like because I’d never drank before and apparently getting me tipsy in Ireland over spring break was an Honor for them I literally didn’t pay for a single drink that night) and the third wine I had was paired with the wrong type of food (we couldn’t get the Right wine bottle open). I didn’t really mind the beer I tried in Ireland though, so I guess beer? I really like cider best though, and apparently I can also handle vodka.

Night owl or morning person?

night owl i wish i could be nocturnal

Favorite day of the week?

Friday. It has all the joy and anticipation of the coming weekend without the curse of my dad being home or the responsibility of homework looming over everything.

Favorite animal?

HEDGEHOG yeah i never really got past that from when i was little. but i also just love pretty much all animals. except like. snakes and spiders but sometimes snakes have their moments.

Do you have a pet?

Yeah. We have a lot of “family” pets but I consider Patches (cat) and Gabby (dog) to be Mine Specifically. If my mom hadn’t forced me out of therapy I’d probably be bringing Patches with me to college next year as an emotional support animal.

Where would you like to travel?

Europe babey. I just wanna hang out in France and England and Scotland and also go back to Ireland. I miss Ireland so much y’all.

ok that’s it. that’s all for this one. i’m not tagging anyone because i’m sure it’s already made the rounds among everyone. but if it missed you and you still wanna do it go for it. consider yourself tagged. poof.

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Ephemera Chapter Nineteen (END)

Ephemera: In art, transitory written and printed matter (receipts, notes, tickets, clippings, etc.) not originally intended to be kept or preserved.

Alternatively, things that exist or are used for only a short time.

Description: Nobody knows who Vante really is. Everything about the popular artist is shrouded in secrecy: from his face to his name to everything in between. After years of working for his art gallery, Y/N feels she may just be the closest thing he has to a friend. Between her success at work and her relationship with campus hot-shot Jeon Jungkook, Y/N’s life has never been better. But is Jungkook truly who he says he is? And who will Y/N protect now that she knows Vante’s livelihood may be on the line?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) Reader x Taehyung

Word Count: 7.0k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Gang!Au, Art History Student!Reader, Film Student!Jungkook, Art Student!Taehyung

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol, although infrequently

A/N: GUYS THE ALBUM!! THE MV!! JAMAIS VU, MAKE IT RIGHT, DIONYSUS!! TRULY THE BOPS OF ALL BOPS I CANNOT BELIEVE THE LEVEL OF ARTISTRY! EVERY TIME I THINK THEY’VE GOTTEN AS GOOD AS IS HUMANLY POSSIBLE, THE DO SOMETHING BETTER!! God, I loved it. Anyway, this chapter! Haha we’ve finally reached the end of our journey! I can’t believe it, really. Anyway, please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later, so for now check my masterlist to find previous chapters!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all! And concert videos!!

ALSO BIG UPDATE: I’ll be taking a couple weeks off from writing series’ until after the BTS concert on May 4. I don’t want to get into a posting routine only to have to throw it off for that weekend. That said, I’ll be working on finishing REALLY OLD requests that I haven’t gotten to yet, so I’ll be posting! Just not series. (Although, I do have my next series planned and started. If you guys want spoilers for that, plz send me an ask hehe)

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

My daughter,

I’m sure this letter comes as a bit of a shock to you. It’s a bit of a shock to me as well. I don’t know exactly where to start.

Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make. But now that you’re older, I hope you can understand me. Even just a little. You were the biggest hope in my life, but I didn’t feel worthy of you. I didn’t want to raise a daughter whose only mother was dependent on someone else to support her. I didn’t have any options in the countryside, but I thought if I went to Seoul and came home successful…maybe you’d grow to respect me.

It sounds selfish writing it down. It was selfish. I am selfish.

To be honest, I didn’t intend on reaching out to you. As it stands, I’m working for a small company as a web designer. Not exactly the lofty dream I had when I left. I didn’t want to face you until I’d made something of myself, so you’d understand why I had to leave. But…well, things change over time I suppose.

I keep a close eye on the tabloids in Seoul because of my job, and when the news about Vante dropped I was intrigued. Truthfully, I’d been trying to get in with him for years. Ever since he showed up in the art scene. I wanted to help him market himself online.

I was perplexed, however, considering the fact that he seems quite reclusive and yet had a female companion with him in almost every photo. For a while, I was trying to figure out who that girl was so I could reach out to her. And as it turns out…you know the rest.

I don’t want you to think I’m exploiting you. I’d never want to do something like that. I’m really glad you were the girl, and not just for career aspects. I was shocked when I found out, and I immediately called a PI to find your address. It wasn’t cheap. But being able to speak with you after so long is a blessing.

I’d love to meet with you in person. Catch up. Talk about what you’ve been up to all these years. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young lady, and you’re doing so many exciting things. I’d love to hear all about them.

Please meet me at the address below on Sunday at 1 PM if you can. It’s a little coffee shop I like. I think it might be a nice place to reunite.

And I apologize for not writing a return address. I’m not sure how you’ll receive this, and I don’t want any legal trouble should you decide this letter is worth litigation.

Hoping to see you there.

Sincerely,

Mom

I’d read and reread the letter enough times to burn the script into my mind forever. If I shut my eyes, her words still floated around on the blacks of my lids. I’d never expected to hear from her again, and was content living my life independently from hers. Perhaps some deep, dark part of me was hoping to rub my success in her nose somehow, but…not like this. The nerve of her. To reach out to me after all these years…

Just because I knew Taehyung.

Something about that stung me in a place that was too tender to look at closely. I didn’t know why the pain was so visceral, but it felt deeper than just a blow to the ego.

I stared at the letter sitting on my coffee table, wrinkled and worn from my chronic folding and unfolding. It had only been a day, and my mind was still swimming in the letter. What right did she have to disrupt my life this way? Who was she to me anyway to be able to affect my waking hours? To consume my thoughts?

I sighed and flipped it over so I only saw my address. What a joke. She thought I might hand over the letter to the police or something? Everything about the letter disgusted me.

So why was that address now burned in the back of my mind?

I touched my pointer finger to my necklace, the ruby one Taehyung had given me so long ago, as I waited in the Sanyo Industries reception room. Yoongi sat beside me, playing with his hands. As decided during our meeting, Yoongi and I were dressed sharp: him in a nice pair of slacks and a pressed button-down, and me in my work skirt and a blouse I had to steam to get the wrinkles out. The reception area was vast, a wide room with wide windows and lots of empty space. The employee behind the desk eyed us now and then, and it was clear by the way she’d received us that she knew exactly who Yoongi was. She’d practically stuttered out her greeting as we entered the modern-looking office.

“Why should the son of a CEO have to wait in the reception office?” I mumbled under my breath with a sigh.

I hadn’t bothered asking Yoongi if he’d gone to meet Nara like I suggested, mostly for his own sake. Emanating from Yoongi’s very core was a jittery sense of anticipation. His eyes flashed wildly around the room, toward the elevators, toward the front doors, toward the marble floor. I’d never seen him so visibly nervous. He was always like Troy, impregnable. But it seemed his father was his own Trojan Horse, his undoing. I eyed him, awaiting a reaction, but none came. Almost like he didn’t hear me at all.

I gave his arm a poke and raised my brows as he jumped and looked at me with wide eyes. “Huh?” he asked, swallowing hard.

I sighed and crossed my arms. “Yoongi, you don’t look so good,” I said, tone softening as I watched him with furrowed brow.

He inhaled sharply and held his breath for a few seconds before letting it out in a puff that startled the receptionist. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

I smiled, attempting a gentle pat, but he was so jumpy that the touch of my palm on his shoulder almost made him shout. “If this is too much, you can go. Honestly, we mostly needed you to get me inside,” I said, then rolled my eyes and glanced out onto the street where Namjoon stood, smoking a cigarette. “Well, me and that idiot.”

Yoongi shook his head and braced himself on his knees, knuckles white as he held on to the tops of his knees. “No,” he said, shutting his eyes with a steadying breath. “I’m not here just to help you guys.”

I nodded. “Listen…you wanting to take responsibility — for yourself and for Nara — it’s really noble. I respect it. But…well, if you don’t mind me being a little nosy, you seem super rattled. I don’t know if this is the best move for your sake,” I said, watching him for any reaction.

He only opened his eyes and nodded, somber. “It’s probably stupid,” he said with a humorless laugh. “But…after spending so long with my head in the sand, I guess the guilt of it is catching up with me.”

“Guilt?”

He shrugged. “How many innocent people have had their lives ruined by my dad’s business? How many people like Nara have I just…left behind? Because it was too much responsibility?”

I raised my brows. “This is the first time I’ve heard you talking about reformation. You seemed a bit ambivalent,” I said, then shrugged. “Like Seokjin.”

“Neither of us are ambivalent, Y/N,” he said seriously, finally meeting my eyes head-on. “We both grew up seeing all the corruption and didn’t see any ways of making it better. Rather than ambivalent…we became cynical.”

I smoothed down my skirt, thinking. “I bet you’re not the only ones to become disillusioned,” I said, recalling that letter on my coffee table with a scowl. “Sometimes all we can do is accept that things are messed up and try to do the right thing on our own.”

He shook his head. “But what if I can’t accept that anymore?” he asked, brows knit as he implored me with his tender gaze. “What if I’ve been accepting it to avoid doing the right thing? Because the right thing is hard?”

I blinked at him, disarmed by the vulnerability in his eyes. “Yoongi…”

“I don’t deserve a free pass,” he said, serious as he scanned me. “Not when people are getting hurt.”

“What do you plan on doing?” I asked, raising my brows.

He settled back against his seat and his jitters slowed, knees stopping their anxious bounce. He anchored his gaze on something far away, perhaps something not physically here at all. “I’m gonna fix it.”

“Fix it?”

“The company,” he said with a steady nod. “From the inside. I’m gonna make it so that people don’t get hurt anymore. Like Ori.”

I watched him for a long moment, watched the way his jaw went staunch against his neck, and couldn’t help but admire his determination. Righteous outrage and a little bit of guilt. I exhaled in a puff and smirked, eyeing him sidelong. “Min Yoongi,” I said, and he glanced at me. There was an innocence in the rounds of his eyes, in the expectation in his parted lips. “You’ll do great,” I finished with a smile. I gave his shoulder a pat and nodded once.

He met my eyes and, slowly, a halfway there smile touched his features and he returned my nod. “Thanks,” he said, chuckling once, sharp.

“Excuse me?” called the receptionist, sounding uncertain. She had risen to her feet and was staring at us with her hands clasped in front of her stomach. She gave a smile I recognized from wearing it myself at work. “Mr. Min is ready to see you.”

I nodded and gave her a bow before catching Namjoon’s eye outside and jerking my head toward the elevator. He quickly stomped out his cigarette and rushed inside, smelling strongly of nicotine. I gave him a grimace and he responded with a smile, resting his hand on the small of my back and leading me down the hallway toward the elevator.

“Ah! Do you need help finding the office?” the receptionist called, craning her neck to peer after us.

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head, waving at her as he called for the elevator. “I think we’ll be okay. Thank you,” he said with a smile her way.

She blinked a few times before adjusting her hair and bowing, her head disappearing back around the corner. And, in silence, the three of us entered the elevator.

The CEO of Sanyo Industries was not the imposing man I was expecting. Perhaps I’d built him up as some sort of malevolent deity, but looking at him sitting in a chair that looked several inches too big for him, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, it was hard to see Mr. Min as the ruthless businessman I knew he was.

The office was spacious, like the reception area, and decorated with classic mahogany browns and deep reds. It looked like the sort of office you’d see in a rich man’s mansion. But Mr. Min himself didn’t quite match it. Mousy in the face with sallow skin and salt-and-pepper hair, he looked like someone’s quiet uncle, the one you only see at family get-togethers who you have trouble even making small talk with.

He cleared his throat and stared up at Yoongi and I, raising his brows. “Son,” he began, then chuckled, rubbing his nose bridge and shutting his eyes. “Is this some sort of marriage announcement?”

Yoongi sighed. “You’d know about any marriage before I would, Dad,” he said, eyes going dull.

“Well then, what brings you two here?” he asked, eyeing me. “And furthermore, who are you if not a fiancé?”

I glanced at Yoongi, waiting for him to speak. But he simply kept his eyes ahead, perhaps trying to tether himself to reality somehow. It wasn’t a part of the plan for me to be too vocal. And besides, I wasn’t so sure it was safe to speak much. If what yoongi said about his father was anything to go by, I’d be smart not to oppose him.

Namjoon had planned everything pretty meticulously. For the first time since arriving, I felt concerned that I’d mess up my role. And with Namjoon himself waiting outside the office so as not to spook Mr. Min right off the bat, I felt ill at ease with all of his attention squarely on me.

I played with the pendant on my necklace. “Uh,” I began, meeting the CEO’s eyes once more. “I’m, uh…I…work with Yoongi.”

He cocked a brow and smirked. “Ah, another criminal?” he asked, scoffing. “Really, Yoongi, when are you going to come to your senses and get serious?” His tone had taken a shift. Gone were the fleeting moments of jest and teasing. In its place was nothing short of frightful intensity, his gaze on Yoongi, boring into him through thin-rimmed glasses.

“Today,” said Yoongi, facing his father. “If things go well.”

Mr. Min leaned back and coughed a little, one of those innocuous old-man sounds that once again threw me for a loop. Was he any suburban dad you might see at the Han River or was he a cutthroat criminal?

“That’s…very good news,” he said, then eyed me with a scowl. “Although if you’re looking to get your friend a job, I can confidently say not a chance.”

I was nearly hurt by his comment before remembering just what sort of company he ran. I took my bruised pride and, clearing my throat, crossed my arms. “I’m not looking for work,” I said.

He hummed. “Well, Yoongi, I can’t say I’m unhappy to hear about your change of heart,” he said, giving Yoongi the ghost of a smile.

Yoongi cleared his throat and rubbed his palms together. “There’s a condition.”

“Condition?” asked Mr. Min, his expression darkening.

“Call off your hit on Ori.”

He chuckled. “You think having you under my wing is worth letting my biggest competitor go?” he asked, raising his brows. “That’s shockingly confident. Even for you.”

Yoongi shook his head. “No,” he said, locking eyes with his father. “I know that’s not enough.”

“Then what’s the rest of your bid?” he asked with a smirk. “You know you can’t prove I’ve got a hit on Ori.”

I cleared my throat and took a step forward, rifling through my bag to grab my phone. “That’s,” I began, but had to pause since my phone was hidden beneath my wallet. I chuckled to myself, nervous, and continued once I had my cell phone in my hand. “That’s where I come in.”

Mr. Min stared at me, but his teasing once again halted. Quietly, I pressed play on my cell phone. The recording played and I took the moment of respite to lean back, inelegant and unceremonious, to knock on the door twice, alerting Namjoon to his cue.

Mr. Min’s gaze went hard like obsidian and it locked on me. “That’s Kim Seokjin?”

Yoongi stepped forward, crossing his arms. “Take action against Jin and we’ll release the recording and tell the press. You might not be aware, but Y/N has become pretty intimately familiar with news outlets these days, being Vante’s secret woman and everything.”

Mr. Min’s face flushed and his eyes skittered between us like a cornered animal. “You’re her…,” he said with a nod. He rubbed his temples and an almost childish smile touched his face. Shutting his eyes, he nodded again as the door opened and Namjoon stepped inside. “You’ve outplayed me, haven’t you?”

Yoongi adjusted his cuffs and cleared his throat. “Sorry, Dad,” he said, sighing. “But I can’t sit back and watch you ruin people’s lives anymore.”

His father opened his eyes and they were sharp, angry, but there was a margin of respect in them. “So this is your offer? You come on under me and you don’t air Sanyo’s dirty laundry?”

Yoongi nodded once sharply. “Yes.”

He smirked and glanced at Namjoon who had taken the spot at my other side. “I suppose you’re here to discuss the logistics,” he said, chuckling. “You two can leave. This is a discussion between businessmen.”

Namjoon grinned and pulled out the plush chair in front of Mr. Min’s desk before settling in. “It is,” he said, turning around to smile at Yoongi and me. “I’ll meet you two downstairs when we’re done here,” he continued. Yoongi and I each turned halfway toward the door, and as my fingers clasped around the doorknob, Namjoon called, “Oh and Y/N?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Yes?” I asked, eager to leave the intimidating place.

He smirked. “Have your friend send her resume to my secretary. She’ll schedule her for an interview with my hiring department.”

A small smile spread across my face as I opened the door. I nodded and he returned it, grinning. “I will,” I said, leading Yoongi out into the hallway once more.

I awoke to pounding at my front door. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself upright on the couch. I must have fallen asleep shortly after returning home from Sanyo. Namjoon had emerged two hours later with a big grin and a new contract with Yoongi’s father stating neither company would attack the other moving forward. And although Namjoon hadn’t been the one to strike first, his strategic prowess had proven extremely useful as by the end Mr. Min was offering a collaborative project. Namjoon wouldn’t tell me whether he’d accepted the project or not, but I suspected I knew his principles well enough to know exactly where he’d told Mr. Min to shove that offer.

Yoongi had stayed behind to hash things out with his dad, and he told me not to worry about him. Of course, I worried anyway, because as his back retreated back toward the elevator, he looked so small. Too small for this big corporate world.

But my worries were quickly assuaged as he turned slightly before entering the elevator and shot me a playful smirk and a wink. As I moved to respond, he quickly hopped into the elevator and that was the last I saw of him.

Once I’d gotten home, I’d practically fallen into a puddle on the couch, turning on the TV and letting whatever cable show was on play as my mind wandered away from me. I wasn’t sure when I’d fallen asleep or how long I’d been out, but the knocking was incessant and demanding.

Groggy, I wandered toward the door and opened it without checking the peephole, rubbing the back of my head with a groan. “Hello?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

I pried my eyes open and saw Taehyung fuming in the doorway. I furrowed my brow and blinked at him. “What time is it?”

He sighed. “It’s midnight. Why are you still dressed up?” he asked, finally scanning me before shaking his head and waving his hands. “No, that’s not important! Why did you keep this whole plan from me? Don’t I have the right to know?”

My senses had returned to me and, gently, I took his forearm and led him inside the apartment. He followed, albeit unwillingly, and pouted down at me. He was dressed in leisure wear, likely having run here from his apartment once Namjoon told him what happened without so much as grabbing a jacket.

I sat him down on the couch and smiled. “I’m sorry,” I said.

He opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly with a sigh, gripping his nose bridge. “Shit,” he mumbled. “I can’t scold you if you apologize first.”

I laughed and nodded. “I know,” I said, then shook my head. “I really am sorry, for what it’s worth.”

He eyed me from between his fingers and cocked a brow. “Why didn’t you tell me, though? Really?”

I rubbed his arm with a smile. “I didn’t want you to take this on too,” I said. “With everything that happened with the gala…I figured you’d do something unnecessary again. You’d handle things on your own and demand I stay out of it,” I began, pausing to rub my hands together. “I know it’s annoying, but I thought that there had to be a way to fix things without someone sacrificing themselves.”

“What about your friend? That Yoongi kid? Didn’t he sacrifice himself?” he asked.

I chuckled, remembering that mischievous wink, that boy with his head in his computer, that guy who saved a stray dog and bought expensive food for it. “No,” I said, smiling. “He’s found something new to be passionate about.”

Taehyung sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I hate that I can see your point,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish I could’ve helped you more.”

Gently, I touched the pendant on my collarbone and smiled at him. “You did help, Taehyung,” I said, and his eyes flashed toward me. “More than you can possibly know. You showed me that I’m stronger when I speak out. That I have what it takes to advocate for myself.”

His shoulders slumped with a sigh and he glanced toward the coffee table where Mom’s letter still sat, wrinkled. “You would’ve figured it out on your own eventually,” said Taehyung with a pout.

I smiled. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t think I would have.” I sighed and watched the letter as if it might change the longer I looked at it. “It took you to shake it out of me.”

“Well…that’s one contribution at least,” he said with a sigh.

“It bothers me.”

He sat upright and stared at me wide-eyed. “Huh?”

I shook my head. “Not that you’ve been helping me, but that it took someone else pushing me for me to finally get myself together,” I said, brow furrowed as I leaned back against the couch cushions. I crossed my arms and stewed over it, still staring at the letter. “I feel like everything I’ve done has been because of either you or Jungkook.”

Taehyung stiffened. “Wait, what?”

I sat up and frowned. “Yeah. The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get,” I said, thinking about that stupid letter. If not for Taehyung, I probably would never have heard from my mom again.

“Y/N, you just got home from blackmailing a billionaire CEO,” he said, raising his brows. “I don’t think any of that had to do with me or Jungkook.”

I shook my head. “I dunno,” I said, trying to name the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Taehyung sighed and leaned into the couch, glancing up toward the TV. “What’re you watching?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, reclining beside him albeit uneasily as my thoughts kept swirling.

We both watched the screen for a moment and I felt the call of sleep beckoning again. Why with Taehyung did I always fall asleep? Perhaps he was a comfortable person. Our relationship had after all began when he left me trinkets while I slept at work.

“My agent wants me to start thinking about doing a documentary,” he said, like the thought couldn’t remain in his head.

I hummed. “Weird,” I said with a nod. “About you?”

“Yeah. Since public interest is so high right now, she thinks it might be a good time to start working on something,” he said, then shook his head. “But I don’t wanna be followed by a big film crew that I don’t know and everyone she’s suggested has been awkward.”

“Hm,” I said, resting my head against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut.

“I just want a small company, you know? If I’m going to do it, that is,” he continued, but his voice was growing more and more distant.

And before I knew it, I was asleep.

“Hey-wait, what the fuck?”

“Oh…sorry.”

“I…you…what are you even doing here?”

“I fell asleep.”

“Why were you here late?”

“Because I-…ah, forget it.”

I groaned and rolled over, tumbling off the couch and onto the rug. I stared up at the front door, the source of the noise, and saw Jungkook in the doorway. Smiling, I gave him a wave and pushed up to my bottom.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

Jungkook gave me a pout. “Don’t give me that cute face,” he said, jerking a thumb at Taehyung who, by that point, I’d only just begun to register as being in my apartment at all. “What’s he doing here?”

“He came over last night to scold me,” I said, standing to my feet with the help of the coffee table. My fingers brushed Mom’s letter and I recoiled like I’d touched a hot stove.

“Scold you?” asked Jungkook, eyes round. He tuned to Taehyung and frowned. “Why were you scolding her? And why didn’t you do it during business hours?”

“Jungkook,” I said, laughing as I approached. I gave his shoulder a pat before breezing past him into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I’d slept in my work skirt and blouse, so both were horribly wrinkled now. Great, and I still had to get to work in a few hours. “What are you doing here, Kook?” I called out into the hallway.

But to my surprise, both boys had followed me in to the bathroom and were beginning to cram themselves into the small space with me. I shouted as Jungkook shoved my pelvis into the countertop with his hip so he could perch on the toilet seat. Taehyung left a more reasonable distance between us and lingered in the doorway.

“I heard about what happened with Yoongi. Jin told me Yoongi’s leaving Bangtan and gave me an out too,” he said, then gave Taehyung a cautious look. “Can I talk about this with him?”

I chuckled and nodded, swishing my mouth with water. “Mhm,” I said.

Taehyung hummed. “So you’re leaving the shady business?”

Jungkook, his defenses lowering, nodded and returned his eyes to me. “Yeah. I want to do what I love instead.”

“What do you love?” asked Taehyung.

“I wanna make movies,” said Jungkook with a soft smile. “I bet you’d get it, being an artist and everything.”

Taehyung smiled and nodded. “Boy do I,” he said with a sigh. “Deciding to leave home and go it alone was really tough, but once I did it I never regretted it. Not even for a second.”

Jungkook grinned. “That’s comforting to hear, at least.”

I glanced between them a few times as the beginnings of a scheme began working in my brain. “You two are actually really similar, now that I think about it,” I said with a nod.

Jungkook scoffed. “No way,” he said with a snort.

I shot a warning glance at him and he quieted down. “I mean it,” I said. “You both see beauty in the ordinary and want to capture that.”

Taehyung raised his brows. “Is that something you’re interested in, Jungkook?”

He pouted and shrugged, watching the floor. “Yeah, I guess.”

Taehyung chuckled. “Man, I wish I would’ve known sooner! I take photos, so if you ever want to go and get some material, I’m free.”

Jungkook glanced up with wide eyes. “Huh?” he asked.

Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. Video is really dynamic, but I don’t have an eye for it. I’d love to see your process.”

Jungkook smiled, just a little, and sat up straighter. “Wait, you mean it?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Taehyung with a laugh. “Give me your number and we can plan something.”

I smiled knowingly and leaned back against the wall so the two could exchange contact information. “You know,” I began, rubbing Jungkook’s shoulder. “Jungkook’s working for a film company now.”

Jungkook stiffened. “N-Not yet! I just sent off my video, but-,”

“But you’re in. I saw that video, Kook. And, as an art curator, I’m telling you it’s good,” I said.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide. “For real?” he asked.

Jungkook shrugged, his knees spread wide as he sat slumped slightly. “Yeah. Probably, anyway.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Well…I might have a really big project for you guys if you’re interested.”

Jungkook stiffened. “What?”

“Let’s chat about it today. Y/N, do you mind if I steal him for a while?” asked Taehyung.

I smiled and gestured toward Jungkook with both hands. “He’s all yours.”

Jungkook glanced up at me, wide-eyed. “Wait, what’s happening?”

I chuckled. “Meet me after work, okay?” I asked with a smile, patting his shoulder as I slid past both of them to get ready for my shift.

As I was getting ready to leave work, I noticed a few text messages on my phone from while I was working. Smiling, I unlocked it and read over the text.

Nararawr: I’ve got an interview with Ori.

Nararawr: The receptionist said I had to interview properly if I wanted the job, no handouts.

Nararawr: IDK you did, but…thank you. I’ll be sure to do my best!

Nararawr: Yoongi came by my class on Monday. I assume that’s also your doing :P

Nararawr: He said he had some things to explain to me, so we’re meeting up on Friday to talk about everything. Methinks it’s a…*gasp*…DATE?!

Nararawr: At any rate, thank you. I won’t waste this opportunity. Thank you for letting me get this myself. I appreciate you more than I say.

I ran a finger along my screen and chuckled. Of course he’d gone. I knew he would. Gently, I typed out a response.

Y/N: Hey, I didn’t do much. I’m just glad everything worked out. Let’s meet up on Saturday to chat! I’ve also got some things to explain to you. And besides I wanna hear about you…*gasp*…DATE?!

I smiled and slid my phone into my purse, removing my ascot and stuffing it inside along with it. The shift was quick, quicker than usual as I’d been scheduled during a busier time of day. The midday rush had died down by the end, and Areum gave me a four-fingered wave goodbye as I made my way back toward the exit from the break room. But as I stepped into the hall, Mr. Kwon jogged up behind me and grabbed my shoulder. I jumped a little and spun around to face him.

“Y/N! Thank God I caught you,” he said with a breathless laugh.

I smiled and gave him a bow. “Is there anything I can help you with, Sir?” I asked.

“If you have time, I’d love you to join me for a meeting right now,” he said.

“With who?” I asked.

“It’s-,” he began, but paused with a chuckle.

He grinned and glanced over my shoulder as the elevator dinged and out walked a few familiar faces. No way. Two of the Japanese philanthropists I’d sold paintings to all those weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime. I bowed deeply at each of them.

“Hello,” I said once I stood upright once more.

“Ah! Are you going to be in the meeting as well?” asked one man with a smile.

I took a peek at Mr. Kwon who gave me an encouraging nod and a smile, and turned back to the philanthropists. “Um…yes,” I said with a smile.

“Wonderful!” he said. “I was telling Mr. Kwon that we’d love to have you.”

“Have me…?” I began, but Mr. Kwon simply laughed and shuffled me back into the gallery, leading all of us to his office.

I stared at the letter on my coffee table, now dressed in my favorite turtleneck and the same skirt I’d worn to meet Jungkook for our study date, months and months ago. Any minute, he’d show up in his car, awaiting my arrival so we could go somewhere. Anywhere.

And still, here I was. Staring at that stupid letter. What did I think would happen if I kept looking at it? Would it suddenly sprout wings and fly away? Would it burn up in flames?

My phone buzzed and I knew he was here. I leapt to my feet and, without thinking, swiped the letter and pocketed it before rushing out the front door to meet Jungkook downstairs.

Jungkook and I sat beneath the dome stars, resting on a blanket in the grass at a park by my apartment. One I hadn’t been to in a long time. Neither of us was saying much, not after the initial flood of information exchange. How he was going to be in touch with Taehyung regarding that documentary, how the two are actually pretty compatible, how everything had gone with Yoongi at Sanyo.

Now there was just silence. The comfortable kind.

I knew I had to tell him about what had happened in the meeting today. If anyone needed to know, it was him.

But I let myself indulge in the silence for a moment longer. “My mom wrote to me,” I said, resting on my palms as I stared up at the fresh, cloudless autumn night sky. Stars splayed out like paint splatters.

Jungkook glanced at me, eyes wide. “She did?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. She wants to meet me.”

“She…she does?”

“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “I thought…I thought I might feel really vindicated when this moment finally came, but I kinda just feel…empty.”

“Empty…,” repeated Jungkook softly.

I nodded. “Because she wants to meet with me to get to Taehyung,” I said with a nod. “Isn’t it a little pathetic? Reaching out to your estranged daughter once she can benefit you?” I chuckled. “And what’s more pathetic is that I’m actually considering going.”

“Y/N,” said Jungkook softly, chiding. “I’ll support whatever choice you make,” he said, eyes boring into me intently.

I smiled and leaned toward him, giving him a chaste peck, and nodded. “Thank you,” I said with a sigh. “You know, it’s been bothering me for a while now,” I said, touching the ruby necklace where it met my skin. “I wonder what I’d be on my own. Who I’d be. Without you or Taehyung or Dad or Nara or anyone supporting me.”

“That’s a sad thought,” said Jungkook softly.

I shook my head. “It’s not,” I said. “I wanna know, Jungkook. All my life…I’ve been holding on to people so tight that I forgot I’m also a person worth holding on to. I forgot that I’m a person at all.”

Jungkook reached out and laced our fingers gently, inching closer. “I understand.”

“And I appreciate you for that,” I said, chuckling. “But…I wanna know what I’m made of when I’m on my own. Up until now, the only thing making me move forward has been circumstance. I haven’t done anything by myself. I haven't grown because I actively wanted to become better, but because I’ve been forced to through my relationships with you. With Taehyung. With Namjoon. With…everyone.”

Jungkook nodded. “You wanna stand on your own two feet.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna see what you’re capable of,” he said, smiling.

I smiled too. “Which is why I’m gonna take a job offer in Japan.”

Jungkook coughed a little, sputtering, before staring down at me with wide eyes. “Wait, what? Where the hell did that come from?”

I laughed. “Today, my boss at the gallery offered me a year-long position at a new gallery they’re opening in Tokyo. He’s been having these talks with a bunch of philanthropists who I sold paintings to. I guess they really wanted to have me on the team at least for the first year to train new employees. I’ll be done with my degree in a few months anyway and I’ll be a manager,” I said, watching his expression change from shock to something like respect, mingling with a tinge of sadness.

“I…Y/N, that’s incredible,” Jungkook said, laughing as he swept me up in his arms. “I mean, I’ll miss you like hell but this is an amazing opportunity. You’d be crazy not to take it.”

I smiled and held on to him tightly, inhaling the sweet, gentle scent of his cologne, feeling the firm expanse of his chest. He rubbed my side, tender, and pulled back to press his palm against my cheek, smiling. “Let’s call it…our test period,” I said with a grin. He raised his brows. “After everything that happened, I can’t say I trust you one-hundred percent.”

He nodded. “I get it.”

“So…this year abroad,” I began, resting my hand atop his as he smoothed his fingers against my cheek. “If we still feel the same way about each other when I get home, then we can start again. For real this time.”

He swallowed hard and smiled, his thumb rubbing circles into my warm skin. “A test period,” he repeated with a nod. “I know I’ll pass.”

I laughed and gave his stomach a poke. “Don’t get cocky. I also have to pass,” I said with a smile.

“I’ll make sure you pass,” he said with a wink.

I shoved him away and stuck out my tongue, miming gagging. “We’ll see,” I teased.

He smiled. “I’m really proud of you,” he said.

I raised my brows. “You are?”

He nodded. “A few months ago, you wouldn’t be able to take this opportunity. You would have held yourself back and let it go to someone else.”

I blinked at my lap as I thought. “I…I guess so, huh?”

“The you from before…I don’t think the you today would like her much,” he said with a chuckle. “Do you?”

The letter suddenly felt heavy in my pocket, like it was burning a hole. Without another word, I pulled it out and stared at it, off-white, worn at the corners. And I took it in both hands before yanking each corner, tearing it clean in half. And again. And again. And again and again until the pieces were small as confetti. Then I opened my palm and let the gentle, chilly breeze carry the scraps away, gone forever into the streets of Seoul.

“That was brave,” said Jungkook from beside me, rubbing my back.

I smiled, a sense of ease washing over me, and turned to him. “I’m about to do something braver,” I said, meeting his curious eyes with a smirk.

I reached out and clamped both hands on his cheeks. He gasped a little as I yanked his face down to meet mine. I tried to convey with a kiss exactly what I needed him to understand. That he wasn’t a bad person, just lost for a while. That he deserved to be happy. That he was strong and smart and talented and so full of potential. That what I felt for him wasn’t something transient, like receipts, like a memo. That it was forever.

He leaned into the kiss, deepening it slightly with a tilt of his head. His lips were sweet with chapstick and soft, never pushy, gentle always. And as I slowly let my fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, I felt him growing flushed, the heat from his face reaching mine through the small fraction of space between us.

Slowly, I pulled away and met his eyes, smiling. “I love you, too,” I said finally.

His eyes glittered with growing moisture and he smiled slightly, scoffing. “Jeez, baby,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You surprised me,” he mumbled.

I chuckled and reached around to the clasp on my necklace, removing it and holding it in my fingers. Slowly, I took his hand and flipped it palm up. I dropped the necklace and smiled at him.

“What’s this about?” he asked, eyeing me.

I closed his fingers around the necklace and patted his fist. “Hold on to that for me,” I said. “And don’t give it back to me until I come back from Japan.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll only take it back when I’ve proven that I can stand on my own two feet,” I said with a nod.

He furrowed his brow before meeting my gaze once more. “You want me to keep this for a year?”

I smirked. “It’ll also keep other girls from getting too cozy if they see that in your room.”

He gaped. “Y/N!” he shouted. “You really think I’m gonna be seeing other people while you’re gone?!”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Wait…are you gonna see other people?!” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger my way.

“I dunno,” I repeated, giggling.

He frowned and leaned down to press a pouty kiss to my lips. “You’d better not or I’ll fly over there give you an earful.”

I laughed, ruffling his hair. “One year…are you sure you like me enough to hold out that long?”

His expression softened and he took my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my palm. “That much and more,” he said gently. “I’ll wait as long as I have to.”

And with that, I smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. I didn’t know where life would lead us, or what might change in a year. I wasn’t sure how I’d tell Dad, how I’d tell Nara. But I knew enough. I knew that the people in my life were good, that they deserved to be beside me. I knew that the ones who walked away from me weren’t meant to stay, and that they weren’t meant to come back either. I knew that the person I was becoming was someone I could finally believe in. And I knew that I could trust the people I loved to be there, always.

[phan-of-the-pen]

what a plot twist you were

My last @phandombigbang fic is here!!! Enjoy you guys!!!

Thank you so so much @blockdedibujo for making the art to this fic! Reblog the art here!

Tags: fluff, angst, getting together, getting drunk, alcohol, minor swearing, bartender!Dan, implied/referenced cheating in past relationships

Word Count: 14.2k

Summary: Dan works as a bartender at nights to pay the bills. His night just keeps getting worse and worse however: some guy tried to grope him, he had three drinks spilled on his shirt so far, and he was tired as hell. But he manages to exit the fray with a new best friend, a man named Phil Lester who has had his heart broken one time too many and has sworn off love. What happens, however, when they fall for one another?

(ao3!) (check out my other fics!)

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan just wanted to go home and fucking sleep.

His day had been particularly miserable. He'd nearly lost all of his groceries and K.O.'d himself trying to walk up the stairs to his flat, he'd stubbed his toe not once, but three times on the same table corner, he'd lost his earbuds, and his laptop had a meltdown about seven seconds into Dan trying to actually use the ancient thing. So upon him coming into work, he already hadn't been in the best of moods.

But in Dan's normal luck, his day only got worse.

It was a Saturday night, so Dan had already been expecting a load of people, but tonight everyone and their mum had apparently decided to go out for drinks because Dan's bar was flooded with people. And all of them were seemingly seeking out to get absolutely smashed.

In translation, that meant Dan earned a shit ton of money, but his shift was hellish.

It was rounding eleven o'clock at night and he still had several hours left of his shift, which looked like he'd be spending in a tequila and margarita soaked shirt because he's had at least three drinks spilled on him so far. To make things better, he'd also had to practically scream for the club's bouncer because a guy drunk one vodka had nearly vaulted over the bar to grope Dan's ass as he was trying to keep up with the drink orders flying in.

So really, Dan was just angry and exhausted, and would probably saw off his arm to curl up in bed at this point.

"Rum and Coke," Dan called, sliding the glass down the bar where an older guy was waiting. He immediately started mixing another—this one a complicated but down-right delicious margarita—the front of his shirt plastered uncomfortably to his body and sticky with half-dried alcohol.

After about fifteen minutes of god-like bartending, a fair amount of the people had left to some other part of the club to dance or flirt, or whatever else anyone does when they're half-way between trashed and tipsy.

He poured the martini into it's glass, added a few olives, and handed it off to the woman waiting. She slipped him an extra tip and a smile after a sip. A man who looked a little older than Dan slumped into the seat of the bar farthest away from everyone else, shoulders slumped together. Dan made his way over when he had the chance.

"What'll it be?" he asked, keeping one eye on the drunk pair of guys practically making out on his bar counter. He'd have to call Al—the bouncer—if they took things any farther. "What?" He asked after he realized that they guy had answered him, but Dan hadn't heard a thing.

"A Black Sunday."

Dan almost asked the guy what he wanted to drink a third time. Surely he had to have heard wrong.

He served a lot of people in a night, sure, and while he was operating in a smaller-scale club, he still had a few people that were here for nothing but the chance to drink their worries away, not to pick up strangers and have fun that they wouldn't even remember the next morning.

The guy's voice was gruff and warbled, but Dan could tell that it wasn't from alcohol. He turned his full attention to the man before him. He was dressed in rumpled clothing that looked as if it had been what he'd slept in the night before and his pitch-black hair was pulled back in a messy quiff—if you could even call it that. There were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and tear stains rolling down his cheeks. Regardless, Dan couldn't ignore his inherent beauty. His skin was that pretty pale you saw on Instagram, his face sculpted and angular. His eyes were a crystal-blue that reminded Dan of one of his specialty drinks—a fruity cocktail that was fairly popular.

"Okay," Dan said slowly.

A Black Sunday was a hard-core drink. The least potent ingredient was an ounce of 101-proof Wild Turkey Bourbon, and the ounce of  190-proof Everclear vodka added made it have a higher alcohol content than illegal American moonshine. The drink itself was sought after so infrequently, Dan could count on his hands the amount of times he had been asked to make one in all of his years of bartending.

Dan added the bourbon to the cocktail glass, followed by a generous amount of black cherry soda to keep it from tasting like antifreeze. He passed it to the guy who ordered it, and watched in near horror as he took a large gulp without even flinching.

Jesus, there's no way I'm messing with this guy. He's got some serious nerves to be drinking Bloody Sunday's like that. They’re almost straight fucking alcohol. 

Dan's attention was called away by a group of people siding up to the bar, all talking loudly. Dan makes their drinks just in time for more people to come. The cycle continues like it normally does every busy night for a while—one order leading to another. The guy sticks around, not saying anything to anyone besides the one time he asked for a refill from Dan.

Eventually, the stream of constant people vying for a drink ebs a little before one in the morning, and Dan finally gets a chance to breathe. The alcohol that had been spilled on him early on had dried, leaving a vague alcoholic stench on Dan's being. His feet hurt a little, and he was starting to get tired of dealing with loads of drunks.

"Another, please."

Dan scooped up the empty glass, holding it for a moment and not immediately filling it.  "You might want to slow down with these, mate, they can knock people out cold for like, a whole damn day if you have enough."

The guy didn't say anything back, just started with his red eyes, something hurt in them. Signing, Dan picked up the Everclear.

"I can't believe you've had so many of these, they taste like shit." Dan said simply, putting the bottles back where they went. He handed the now-full glass back to the guy, who nodded in appreciation, taking a large swig.

"They really do," He said, looking at the dark liquid in his hand as if it had personally offended him. Dan smiled and rolled his eyes.

"At least you know that you're torturing your taste buds, I guess."

The guy snorted.

"Yeah, a rude awakening from my normal fruity cocktails," he muttered, sipping his drink.

"Oh my god, there's no way that you drink stuff like that if you're here, on your third Black Sunday and still looking like you need about seven more to get smashed."

"Hard to believe, huh? God, if anyone that knew me could see me now. Or even if I just, I don't know, told someone they'd still never believe me. 'Phil, you cringe at gin and tonics there's no way that you'd drink that' is probably exactly what they'd say." Phil deflated a little, his lip pulling down like he just remembered something that he'd rather forget. "Well, I'd bet anything that it won't take me seven more, but if that's what I need to forget fucking everything," Phil downed almost the rest of his drink, the bottom of the cup clunking back down to the bar, "then by all means I'll do it."

Dan's anxiety spiked a little. He didn't really like it when there was conflict, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that this guy was going through some shit. He decided to change the topic.

"Phil, huh? I'm Dan," Dan said, throwing a glance down the bar, making sure that there still weren't any new customers.

Phil hummed in reply and swallowed down the last dregs of his Black Sunday.

"Another please, Dan. If you can't tell I don't even want to remember my own name."

Frowning, Dan complied, even if a little reluctantly.

"You know, it's probably really bad business, but alcohol is absolute shit for you," he said, passing Phil the cup. Their hands brushed.

"Is that like your doctor telling you that there's more side effects than actual things that help you in a medication?"

Dan laughed. "A little specific, but yeah, I guess so. Are you speaking from experience?" Dan asked, leaning on the bar.

"No, but I did have a really bad experience at the gym."

Dan snorted. Hasn’t everyone? 

"No! Really, I did!"

"What'd you do, trip on the treadmill? I hate to break it to you, Phil, but everyone does that."

"I haven't! Besides, that's not what happened at all."

Phil launched himself into an in-depth story about how he'd hired a trainer to help him out, show him the ropes, give him something easy to do, and how it had gone horribly wrong. Dan listened in rapt attention, horrified at what had supposedly happened. In fact, he'd given Phil so much of his focus that when a younger girl asked for a drink, Dan had nearly fucked it up royally because he wasn't paying attention to the cocktail that his hands were trying to independently make.

They kept talking, and if Dan was honest, Phil was more than fun to converse with. They were able to trade stories and even a few jokes. The fact that Phil was extremely attractive even in his severely rumpled state was just an added bonus.

As it rounded three-thirty, there was a surge of people, anxiously drunk for a few last minute drinks before they stumbled their way home or into someone else's arms. The influx carried Dan away from Phil for probably twenty minutes, throwing a wedge into their conversation. Dan, for his part, tried to make the drinks as fast as possible because he wanted to continue where they'd left off—Phil trying to get Dan to believe that a stranger had once walked up to Phil and woofed in his ear.

When he finally returned to Phil, he could tell that it wasn't going to happen.

Phil was slumped over his drink, scowling and clearly buried in his own thoughts. There were tears brimming in his eyes, and the drink that he'd done less than look at in he and Dan's hour long conversation was almost gone. When Phil saw Dan approach him, he chugged the remainder and held it out for Dan to take.

"Another."

Dan's heart pained him.

"Phil…"

"Another." Phil said, his voice so hard and cold, yet so raw.

"No, Phil, I'm not serving you another Black Sunday. You've had too much and I won't be responsible for your liver committing suicide right in front of my eyes!" Dan huffed, his arms crossing. Phil's expression turned sharp, something in his eyes turning dark and jagged. Dan shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He was unnerved, yes, but Dan stood his ground even if his insides felt like they were grinding together.

Lip curling up into the beginning of a snarl, Phil dropped his hand down, the cocktail glass coming down so hard and fast that Dan feared it would shatter.

"Love. The whole thing is fucked." Phil growled suddenly.

Dan knit his eyebrows. What?

"I mean," Phil said, glaring at his empty glass, "it doesn't feel like it at first. It's all fluffy and happy, skipping classes in secondary school to make-out and holding hands and just...love. And then, oh fuck, then it just gets better. You graduate, both go to separate uni's but out of some miracle you make it work. You move in together. And god, you're so in love it hurts. You spend all of your time together and you love each other and…" Phil drifted off, the knuckles on his wrist blotchy and white, but Dan was too drawn into the soft words Phil was speaking to fear for the safety of the cocktail glass. "And then, he leaves you for one of your friends. But not before fucking the other guy first, and ripping your heart out of your fucking chest and stomping on it." Phil was shaking by the end, a mixture of fire and endless pain in his eyes.

"It hurts so bad, having to try and pick your life back up again from where it was scattered into such small, jagged pieces. Nothing's right either because you're stuck in a constant state of missing. It's been you and him for years at this point—how the hell are you supposed to just move on?" Phil shook his head. "I don't even care. Love isn't supposed to reduce you to sobs, and I want no part of it for the rest of my life," Phil said, practically spitting the last few words, distaste clear on his face.

"Phil...I…" Dan started when it was obvious that Phil wasn't going to say anything else, but he didn't know what to say. Fuck.

With Dan's horrified words, the spell was broken. Phil's head snapped up from where it had been gazing at the table. He stared at Dan for a moment, all of his emotion sprawled out before it all melted away in a single heartbeat, smoothing out into an impenetrable wall. He stood so abruptly that in his intoxicated state, he nearly toppled over. But Dan didn't have a chance to help him before Phil was pushing and shoving his way through the crowd.

Dan felt something heavy settle in his heart. He'd been a bartender for a fair amount of time, and he's had more than his fair share of sob stories. He hated hearing them and knowing that people were hurting enough to fall down the horrendously slippery slope of alcoholism. But the reality was that he could only offer words of comfort, maybe a few free drinks and some advice, but that was it. He'd have to watch as they left.

"Can I get a goddamn drink?"

Dan ground his teeth, turning himself away from where Phil disappeared into the crowd. A thirty-something guy was leaning on the bar, obviously hammered. He carelessly gave his order, eyeing up a pretty blonde a little farther down the bar. Dan made it on autopilot.

The rest of the night was a blur. Business picked up in the remaining few hours, and Dan was working hard to keep up with the orders. Nevertheless, he did it, and even did a relatively above average cleaning job after Al threw out the last of the drunks passed out on the dancefloor.

The rest of the night, he didn't see even a glimpse of that messy black hair.

~~~~~

The next few nights business passed as normal.

Dan took his late shifts in stride, none of them sporting crowds near the likely record that there had been on Saturday. Wednesday, however, at what was an estimate of two-am, a sullen and melancholy voice called out behind him.

"Black Sunday, please."

Dan turned, unable to stop the twitch of his upper lip trying to form a smile when he saw Phil.

Phil was wearing a different button-up, and while he looked to have the same rumpled aura, the shock of black hair seemed to be not quite as tangled and his shoulders were not as drawn in.

Then again, Dan might have just been projecting his wish for Phil to get better onto the man.

"Back again?" Dan asked, sliding a cocktail glass off of it's rack. Phil tossed him the skeleton of a little smile. Dan handed the now-full glass to Phil, and not having a moment to stop and talk, turned back to the other waiting customers.

After a lull in customers opened up he took the opportunity to turn his attention back to Phil. It had been probably about half an hour since Dan had given Phil his drink, and the glass was empty in Phil's pale hands.

Dan frowned, reaching for one of the water bottles he kept behind the bar and setting it down in front of Phil. Phil looked up, confused.

"You're not getting another Black Sunday out of me unless you drink at least this whole thing."

"What? Since when is that a thing?"

"Since you had a billion of them the other night and they have enough alcohol in them to knock out a gorilla."

Phil's brow was still crinkled, but he didn't protest further, curling his hand around the bottle. He sat like that for a moment before looking back up at Dan. 

"Are you calling me a gorilla?" he asked softly, confusion still on his face, head tilted. Dan's eyebrows shot to the sky and he swore he rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his head.

"Is that seriously all you focused on? Jesus, Phil."

"Hey!"

"Here I am, being all kind, giving you water-"

"Dan."

"-and looking out for you-"

"Oh my god, Dan."

"-and you ask me if you're a fucking gorilla?" Dan finished incredulously. Phil was laughing, his tongue poking out from between his teeth, the action making Dan's chest feel warm. Feeling inexplicably and suddenly giddy, Dan continued.

"You know, Phil, I expected better of you, really. Hydration isn't a joke and you of all people should have-"

"Shh!" Phil laughed, reaching up easily against Dan's frame leaning over the bar and clasping his hand over Dan's mouth. And, miraculously stunned, Dan shut up.

Normally, when a customer would touch Dan anywhere—arm, shoulder, waist, hip, or anything else outside of the route of possible and normal physical contact of handing off a drink or collecting a payment—Dan would either chew them out or call Al over depending on his mood that day.

But Dan couldn't tear his eyes away from Phil's clear blue ones, his face happy and giggling, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol in his first Black Sunday. In fact, he didn't do anything but stand there with his upper body braced on the bar by his elbows, paralyzed by Phil's warm palm on his lips, his face so close, eyes so bright.

Phil pulled away after a second or two, and yet it still felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

Dan didn't really know what to do with the knowledge that a touch so casual and obviously careless by a man he'd just met could throw him off like this.

Pulling himself out of his head, Dan forced himself to act somewhat normal, looking behind him to partly look for if there were any other customers waiting, and partly to look like he was keeping an eye out for customers, but instead using the moment turned away from Phil to collect himself.

Dan brought his head back only for Phil's eyes to instantly lock onto Dan's. Phil smiled.

"Where were we?"

They got to talking, and just like the other night, everything just flowed. They even had a heated debate hours later on which Muse album was the greatest while Dan was mixing drinks for a group of college kids.

"No, it's without a doubt Origin of Symmetry."

"I'm not saying that it's a bad album! But The Resistance is easily the best!" Phil said excitedly. He took another sip of his second Black Sunday of the night. He had a certain slur to his words that pointed to his slowly increasing drunkenness, but considering how easily Phil had thrown them back last time he was here, Dan considered it a win. "James and I would always-" Phil stopped so suddenly that Dan's head whipped around, concerned as to what was wrong. Phil's eyes were wide and brimming with tears, a distressed look on his face. A sob escaped his trembling lips, and Dan heard it catch in his throat.

James and I.

It suddenly clicked in Dan's head, and he could feel his own eyes widen. He fumbled with the liquor bottles in his hands, trying not to drop them like his hands had wanted to a heartbeat ago.

"Phil, talk to me." Dan said, setting the ingredients onto the bar closer to Phil and working there, willing his hands to measure and stir and pour faster. Unfortunately, Dan was fighting a bit of an uphill battle with several people waiting for drinks.

Another sob escaped Phil's lips, and to Dan's horror, a few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.

"One of Muse's songs, that was our song. We…" Phil trailed off, hiccuping, full-on crying now. Dan barely understood his garbled words. Phil dropped his face into his hands. Dan practically threw the drinks at the people as he managed to conjure them into existence, throwing himself headfirst into making the next one.

"What did I do wrong?" Phil sobbed. "W-we were happy and w-we loved each other and I was going t-to marry him! And he cheated!"

It felt like the carpet had just been yanked out from under Dan's feet. His heart ached in sympathy for Phil.

Fuck, they were going to get married and this James guy cheated? That's fucking horrible.

Some of the people waiting for drinks were casting glances in Phil's direction, and Dan wanted to scream at them to mind their own business. Moreso, he wanted to drop everything and wrap Phil up in a hug.

"Phil," Dan said desperately, throwing together a handful of shots in seconds, "I know it may not seem like it but this James guy is an arse. You didn't deserve to get cheated on, not at all. You deserve better than him." Dan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see if any of his hasty words made it through to him, but Phil's barstool was empty, and minus the empty cocktail glass, there was no evidence that Phil had even been there.

~~~~~

Phil didn't show up again for almost two weeks.

Dan would have liked to say that on the nights he worked the bar during those two weeks he didn't keep a constant eye out for the man with the sad eyes and hunched stature, but it would have been one of the worst lies he'd ever told.

When Phil did show on a lonely Tuesday night, Dan didn't know if he should be excited or not. On one hand, Phil finding his way back into Dan's bar meant that Phil still, on some level, wanted to be around Dan (or the drinks he made, Dan's subconsciousness helpfully provided. Dan told his subconsciousness to shut up). On the other hand, it could easily mean that Phil had just slipped far enough in his sorrow that he once again needed the company of alcohol, and the thought made Dan's heart throb in shared sorrow.

But as Phil flashed Dan a smile, the edges of his shy-blue eyes crinkling, Dan was hopeless to the grin that spread over his features as a result.

"Hey."

"Hey back. How's the world of Dan...what's your last name?"

Dan raised his eyebrow a little, but still responded. "Howell."

"Great. How's the world of Dan Howell, then?"

Dan snorted and shook his head, but the smile on his face didn't falter with Phil's quirk.

"Not bad. Today's kind of empty, so I've had more time to relax than normal." Dan pulled up his stool, sitting on his side of the bar, directly across from Phil. "How's the world of Phil?"  Phil pouted, and it really shouldn't have been as adorable as it was.

"You aren't going to ask my last name?"

"I was counting on the fact that you'd tell me."

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm already the only one holding up this whole relationship." Phil whined. Dan didn't really say anything, but the word relationship threw him for a loop. It bounced around in his skull, making his thoughts sizzle to a stop for a moment before they limped back into place. Phil, however, being himself, didn't notice Dan's half a second reboot and just kept going.

"Anyways, since you won't ask, I'll tell you." Phil leaned forward, easily catching Dan's gaze. And fuck, this man shouldn't have this much power over him. "It's Lester. Philip Michael Lester," he said. Dan's attention didn't leave Phil's unearthly blue eyes, but he was all too aware at how Phil's lips were moving.

God, he needed to keep his shit together.

Dan hummed in response and swallowed, holding what was left of himself together with what seemed like only his bare hands.

Phil waited another moment before he pouted again, stronger this time.

"Dan! Ask me!"

"Ask you what?"

"You know!"

Dan leaned forward on the counter, and devilishly decided to give Phil a taste of his own medicine. However, Dan wasn't as effortlessly angelic like Phil, so he put in the work. He brought his chin down onto his hand and looked up through his lashes, making sure to soften his gaze. Dan let his shoulders relax and gave his head a little tilt, stretching his neck.

"Fine, how's the world of Philip Michael Lester?" he purred. It was obvious he was flirting. Obvious.

Phil's eyes widened, and Dan was close enough to hear the breath catch in his throat. He saw the way Phil's gaze drunk in everything Dan was offering.

And then Phil looked away, shattering the moment and bringing the reality of what Dan just did crashing down. He tried to hit on a guy who was dealing with a horrible break-up with the love of his life. God, Dan was so fucking stupid, and callous, and cruel—

"You, know, it's honestly going really, really good," Phil said, bringing Dan back to the present. Phil's gaze came back, and Dan was relieved beyond belief at it's warmth. He pulled himself back and schooled his emotions—not to mention getting himself in check.

(Dan ignored the flicker of disappointment that he swore danced across Phil's features. It was nothing but Dan projecting his own interests on the poor man.)

A couple walked up to the bar, looking expectantly at Dan, who stood as soon as they approached. He turned to Phil.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Phil smiled a little, resting his head on his palm like Dan had just been doing before. His posture was remarkably the same, but fuck with the dancing lights of the club floor highlighting his features and the downright ease at which he commanded all of Dan's attention, it was so much better than what Dan could ever pull off.

But once Dan felt his heart tug at his ribcage, he knew that he didn't really care if Phil was more attractive than him.

"Yeah," Phil said, his voice soft but still reaching Dan's ears effortlessly, "I'd like something light. I really want to remember tonight."

~~~~~

Maybe if Dan wasn't so drunk on Phil's company, he would have thought about how well they got along with each other was too good for reality. How easy it was for their friendship to click would have given Dan pause in any other frame of mind because all of his relationships with people were carefully cultivated after dozens and dozens of hours at the very least. But with Phil, Dan doubted that he could count all of the hours they had spent together on two hands. Yet, as Dan laughed at Phil's stupid jokes and their banter played off of each other effortlessly, it was easy to fall into the feeling that they had known each other for longer than reality.

Yet…

Dan wasn't paying any of that to mind.

No, right now, he was so immersed in Phil's slightly-tipsy attention that it seemed nothing but normal.

It was late—nearing three in the morning—and Phil had only had two weak drinks, good on his word. The whole night they hadn't stopped talking once. Even as Dan was mixing drinks for customers or taking orders, he was still listening intently to Phil ramble, or refusing to stop his little sarcastic interjections just because he had to do his job.

By the time Dan was nearing having to close up the club, he honestly felt that he knew Phil as well as other friends he had, if not better. No topic seemed off the table tonight, and yeah, Dan strayed away from asking stupid questions that would have obviously crossed a line or upset Phil. However they still bounced so freely from topic to topic that Dan felt he could name a thousand new things about this man who kept coming into his bar.

Video game interests, music, professions, where the hell they wanted to end up in life, what made them happy, the stars, a whole half an hour of Dan monologues about candles, different tragedies they've endured...and so much more.

The entire thing was insane. And good. It made Dan smile giddy and forget that he was a wreck.

And a hour later, as Dan wiped away the stickiness of dried alcohol on the many tables in the bar, he was left in what he could best describe as a state of awe. Never had one of his shifts passed that fast, and never has he ever enjoyed himself so much in one.

In his back pocket, Dan's phone vibrated. He slipped it out, and even though he had his assumptions as to who was texting him this early in the morning, the confirmation still made him grin wide enough to hurt.

>> From: Phil I expect you to finish that story about your piano teacher next time im there kay you left me on a cliffhanger, mate

He clicked back a quick-witted reply and pocketed his phone, continuing to clean up with a smile on his face. In the pocket of his jeans, Dan could swear that the plastic of his case was still warm from where Phil had touched it earlier—giving Dan the precious gift of instant communication to who was quickly becoming one of his favorite people—before waltzing right out of Dan's club doors, a bounce in his step and a swing in his hips.

~~~~~

>> From: Phil psst….

>> To: Phil psst

>> From: Phil work is super boring :(

>> To: Phil u were the one to pick a publisher as a prof. mate

>> From: Phil :(

I expected some sympathy and maybe a "phil you brave soul I'll come save you"

>> To: Phil *insert eyeroll*

Im in the middle of tesco and ur at work I cant just "save" u

>> From: Phil youre not going to try?

>> To: Phil whats in it for me?

>> From: Phil my time? my presence? my charming good looks? my humor??? me???

>> To: Phil ur not full of yourself at all huh

>> From: Phil :(

I need a new best friend *you* wont even rescue me :(((

~~~~~

>> From: Phil dan its 3am get off twitter

>> To: Phil phil its 3am get off ur phone

>> From: Phil dannnnnn

>> To: Phil :p

>> From: Phil come on you need sleepppp

>> To: Phil I could say the same for u

besides

staying up late is my job if anything this is training for work

>> From: Phil >:(

>> To: Phil why r u up anyways?

>> From: Phil I cant sleep

>> To: Phil James?

>> From: Phil … … yeah...

>> To: Phil dont apologize for ur feelings phil

…

idk if ur tired or not but do u want to watch a movie?

I mean

we would obvs watch it separately but we can text through it like we're sitting next to each other

…

that way ur mind can be off of James and we can keep each other company?

…

…

we dont have to

>> From: Phil that sounds pretty perfect

~~~~~

Over the following month, Dan and Phil spent an absurd amount of time texting each other. In the beginning, things were a little awkward with neither man knowing how to really proceed, but a week after Phil first typed in his number into Dan's phone and another in-person visit from Phil, things between them flowed. Not a day went by without at least a single conversation, even if it was nothing more than a dumb pun. Dan wasn't completely sure how Phil was faring with the new dependency on each other, but Dan knew that he had accidentally neglected a handful of customers this week because he had been typing out something to send to Phil.

And...the thing was...Dan was happy.

Now, it wasn't as if he had been upset with his life before per se, but more of like he had been merely content with it. He didn't jump out of bed, excited for the day, but he also didn't dread the thought of waking up again. Peculiarly, Dan found himself rolling over and checking his phone for a notification from Phil before he had even really woken up yet, already searching for that spark between them. He found himself smiling more, and more genuinely.

It was a good change.

Dan laced his fingers together above his head, stretching with a yawn. It was the early morning—around three—and he was tired. He couldn't wait to close up, text a sleeping Phil a story about one of the drunks tonight, and fall asleep.

When he spotted a familiar black head of hair, he frowned.

It was unbelievably late, not to mention that Dan knew that Phil had work tomorrow—what the hell was Phil doing awake, and hell, here?

Dan watched as Phil made his way through the crowd, and Dan's heart sank as the apparent reason why Phil had decided to show tonight made itself known.

He was disheveled, a large frown on his face, and a slump to his shoulders. His skin was paler than normal, yet there was still a flush dusting his cheeks, and Dan knew without a doubt that it was from alcohol.

Dan's heart throbbed painfully as he watched Phil stumble onto one of the barstools.

Dan stepped forward and automatically tried to reach out to offer Phil comfort, but the near complete lack of recognition startled him, making him suck in a breath. Could Phil have really forgotten him after some drinks? Dan had thought that their friendship had been worth more to the man.

He tried to get the thoughts out of his head. His hurt feelings didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that Phil was seemingly self-destructing. God Phil, how much alcohol did you have already?

"I wa't a vodka." Phil slurred, a spark finally lighting behind his eyes. "Dan!" He said, sounding cheery for a moment before his sour mood returned. "I 'eed a drink."

"Phil," Dan started, stepping as close as he could with the bar separating them, "how much did you drink before? You're already smashed I don't—Phil, no-!"

Phil frowned harder and tried to get up, the motion near unsuccessful on his uncoordinated and drink-heavy legs. Dan immediately lunged over the bar, grabbing Phil's sleeve and pulling him back onto the stool. He worked with drunks, so it was easy for Dan to tell that upon standing, Phil had more of a chance flying than trying to walk out the door. He most likely would pass out at this point.

"Look," Dan sighed, frantically thinking of a way to keep Phil here, "I'll get you a drink, okay? I'll get you one. Just...just don't leave."

Dan filled a shot glass almost all the way with water. He then threw in a dash of vodka—just enough to get the general taste of it. Phil was too far gone to tell that he was being tricked, but Dan wanted to make sure that the vague flavor of vodka would reach Phil's taste buds just in case Phil was a particularly adept drunk.

He set the glass down in front of Phil, and immediately Phil threw it back, holding it out in an unsteady hand for another. Dan compiled, however this time didn't put any vodka in, just water. He mimed pouring vodka in the glass with his back turned, put the unused bottle of vodka back, and gave it to Phil. Dan paid close attention to Phil as he drank it, but he showed no sign of knowing what he was drinking.

The last hour of Dan's shift followed a similar pattern—he gave Phil as many shots as he wanted, all of them water. Phil didn't say anything, didn't really show much evidence that he was comprehending where he was, and what he was doing, minus the occasional grunt to get Dan's attention for another drink.

The whole thing worried Dan to bits.

By the time Al was making his rounds, ensuring that all of the people had left, Dan had to stop him from tossing Phil out onto the streets.

"No!" Dan had said, panicked, almost dropping the bottles of alcohol he was restacking, "He's a friend, Al. I'll take care of him, promise."

It took a few tries to get Al to believe that Phil wasn't going to be a problem for Dan, but he eventually nodded, telling Dan to call him if he needed anything and walking out, his job done for the night.

Dan sped through the rest of the clean up, and sooner than expected he was standing outside of the locked bar, Phil half asleep and leaning all of his weight onto Dan who was desperately trying to hold him up. Dan paused for a moment, at a loss. He didn't know where Phil lived, let alone have a key to Phil's place, and wasn't sure if Phil could make it a whole night by himself in the state he was in—the last thing either of them needed was blackout-drunk Phil to accidentally hurt himself or decide to take a midnight stroll.

He glanced at the sleepy man in his arms and tapped his foot, weighing his options before letting out a huff and slipping his arm around Phil's waist, starting off down the block where Dan had parked his car. Phil tried to help, but he could barely get a step in with how uncoordinated his legs were. In circumstances other than trying to carry another man nearly as tall as him, Dan might have laughed, but Phil was heavy.

Through a lot of stumbling and a dozen almost-falls, they made it, and Dan was just barely able to get Phil into the passenger seat after ten minutes of Phil trying to move his unresponsive limbs in an effort to help, and Dan trying to stop him because it was only making things worse. By the time Dan buckled himself in and started the car, he was breathing heavily as if he'd ran the whole way to his car.

Getting Phil up to the floor of Dan's flat was simple enough due to the elevator, but getting him past the door was horrid. Phil was asleep and complete dead weight in Dan's arms, and Dan had to drag him through, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe by accident.

Once inside the flat, Dan didn't really make it very far. He rolled Phil onto the couch and collapsed onto the floor, his breathing labored. Did he sometimes have to lift heavy things while working at a bar? Sure, but that was nothing compared to an unconscious Phil.

Dan caught his breath and pulled himself back up on his feet—he couldn't rest yet. Dan removed Phil's glasses and rolled Phil onto his right side so he was facing away from the back of the couch. He then put the little trash can that he had had in his bedroom on the floor in line with Phil's head; that way if he threw up he would hopefully do it in that and not on Dan's floor. Once Dan was certain that Phil would be fine by himself for a little, Dan retreated into his bedroom and stripped himself of his bar uniform, putting on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He thought about bringing something in with him to change Phil into so he wasn't sleeping in jeans, but decided against it—there was no way to know if Phil was comfortable with Dan doing that, and Phil's possible inability to sleep well with jeans was irrelevant when he was unconscious and drunk off his ass.

Dan threw his dirty clothes into the hamper, brushed his teeth, and pulled the duvet and the pillows on his bed off, piling them on the floor in the lounge next to the couch. He went right back to his room and pulled one of his fluffiest blankets out of his closet.

Once he was back in the lounge, he let the blanket fall so he could pick up the duvet and then draped it over Phil, tucking in the corners to keep him warm. Dan slid a pillow under Phil's head and pushed the coffee table away to make room for himself before caccooning his body in the blanket on the floor, facing Phil.

It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions and his back would probably hurt tomorrow, but there was no way in hell that Dan was going to let Phil alone by himself.

It was a while before Dan's mind quieted enough for his eyes to drift closed, but the last thing he saw was Phil's peaceful face, lulled to sleep.

~~~~~

The night turned out to be more eventful than he had hoped, but no less than he had planned for, and Dan was glad that the day before he had had a good night's rest because his sleep turned out to be interrupted at best.

Phil threw up twice, and Dan both times Dan thanked his past self for putting the trash can down.

Phil hadn't been properly conscious for the first time, and it had taken Dan a half an hour to clean up a sleepy Phil and help him brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush Dan had found crammed under his sink. By the second time, Phil had sobered up a little (mainly because he had vomited up a large portion of the alcohol he had ingested). He had reached down, clutching at Dan's upper arm with one hand and the other yanking the trash can as close as he could get it. That time, Dan was awake in time to rub Phil's back and card his fingers through his hair, soothing him as he retched. Both times, while Phil went to sleep quickly afterwards, but Dan couldn't fathom another minute of sleep for at least an hour after. His focus was pinpointed onto the man on his couch and utterly convinced that Phil would need him even if Dan shut his eyes for a moment. Dan wasn't sure what the time was when he managed sleep, but grey morning light was already seeping into the apartment by the time his exhaustion had settled over him.

Dan roused close to ten in the morning, eyes heavy and body sore. His eyes fell immediately onto Phil who was still sleeping, his face peaceful and tranquil in unconsciousness. He watched Phil from his makeshift bed on the floor for a few minutes—was that creepy? Too much? If Phil was up would he be freaked out by Dan's stare?

The thought made Dan's eyes slowly shift away from Phil's pale skin. He ended up crawling out from under his blanket and finding his way into his kitchen where he had a bowl of cereal, rubbing at his eyes frequently. Since Phil undoubtedly needed his rest and was still sleeping soundly, Dan decided to just let Phil get up by himself.

Dan made his way to the shower, where he spent at least fifteen minutes on the floor of the tub, letting the hot water hit his curled up frame. It soothed the muscles in his body, acting like a balm to his overactive thoughts. All of which were about the man laid on his couch and the way his shoulders sagged with pain, the curl of his smile, and the starbursts in his eyes.

Dan didn't understand how there was someone out there who could give up a man like Phil, let alone cheat on him.

When he emerged from the bathroom, steam curling from the doorframe and his curls towel-dried on his head, Phil had switched positions. Instead of laying on his side like he had been all night, Phil was on his back, head turned to the junction connecting the armrest to the back of the couch. His mouth was parted and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, likely from a dream he was currently experiencing.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good sleeping, Dan thought, his feet pulling him closer on instinct until Dan was sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the sofa and the blanket he had been using all night curled around his body.

He felt uncomfortable continuing to stare at Phil with the innate knowledge of his own personal attraction to the man and knowing how much Phil was falling apart with this breakup, so Dan pulled his ultimate social crutch out—his phone. With pink-dusted cheeks, Dan pulled up the first app his fingers found, and soon enough, he was forgetting all about last night and this morning.

When Phil stirred however, Dan's attention immediately snapped to him.

Phil was now in a similar position that he had been all night, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely.

"Phil?" Dan asked, putting his phone onto the coffee table and scooting closer to where Phil's head was. Phil just looked up at him, eyes sleepy and expression tired.

"Dan?"

"Yeah. Do you remember last night?"

"Hmm? No, I don't think so…" Phil paused, his eyes falling to the duvet he was snuggled in, cold realization settling into his posture, "I got drunk, didn't I? My head certainly feels like I did" He asked in a small voice. Dan gave him a pained smile that he meant to be reassuring, but Dan had a feeling that it wasn't in the slightest. He picked up Phil's glasses from where he had discarded them when they had first gotten home and gave them to Phil, their hands brushing more than Dan was certain was necessary.

"You were absolutely smashed before you even showed up at my bar."

Phil groaned and covered his face with his hands, sighing so deeply that it sounded pained.

"God, I'm sorry."

"Phil…"

"I promised myself I was going to stop drinking my feelings away. Look how well that turned out," Phil said bitterly, frowning heavily. His eyes were wet, looking ready to cry. Dan wrapped his fingers around Phil's wrist to get his attention, not even thinking about the action.

"Phil, you've been through a lot, and you aren't dealing with it very healthily, but acknowledging that is the first five steps to moving past that."

Phil didn't look convinced, his gaze sliding back down to the blanket, shame and remorse in his eyes. Dan squeezed his wrist, willing Phil to still pay attention to him.

"You seemed to be doing really good with managing the want to get drunk for a while there, and I know that relapses are a very possible thing, but I think you should just do what you were doing before, you know? You seemed really happy when I saw you, and even texting you were so much more joyful than when we had first met. You were doing really good, and I think you can keep doing really good."

At this point, Phil's attention was back on the blanket.

"That...that's harder than it sounds. What I was doing...I don't know if I can keep doing it."

"God, Phil, were you on drugs?"

"No!" Phil gasped, looking up in shock.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dan, I'm sure. I just...I don't really know how to explain it, but you know how sometimes you find something new, and it like, fills a hole in you that you didn't know existed? It's like that, but it just...scares me I guess. Because I don't know how to handle it? I didn't even know that I needed it until I had it but now I try to picture myself without this new...thing and I can't. And I don't know what to do, because I'm not supposed to feel like this."

"Who says you're not supposed to feel the way you do, Phil? You can't pick and choose what you feel—the heart doesn't work like that. It's like how you're hurting because of James and what he did to you; you don't have a choice in the matter of the pain or joy you feel, and you can't selectively mute the negative without obstructing the positive." There were tears in Phil's eyes, a few fat drops slipping out and sliding down his cheeks. "And," Dan said, wiping away Phil's tears with his hand, "I think that if that thing—whatever it is—makes you happy, it's worth a little bit of terror. You don't deserve to make yourself suffer more just by denying your feelings, Phil."

Phil was full on crying now, and the tears were flowing faster than Dan could wipe them away. But before he could disentangle himself just long enough to conjure up a box of tissues, Phil tugged Dan forward into a hug. Phil broke down, sobbing into Dan's shoulder, blubbering about James and how lost he felt and the guilt he had. It all just...tumbled out, and Dan wasn't sure if Phil even meant to be spilling everything, but Dan had a feeling that these were tears and emotions that Phil had never let himself have.

Sure, Phil had mourned the future he had lost, but had he let himself mourn the pain he was feeling? All of the trust he had lost as a result? All of the misery he had endured? Dan didn't think so, and the thought broke him.

And as Phil cried into his shirt, Dan just held him tighter.

~~~~~

Hours later, Dan was having more fun than he had had in the company of another person in a long time.

He and Phil were nestled together on the couch with blankets piled on top of them, cocooning them together. Phil had showered and called out sick for work for the day after managing breakfast and, at Dan's insistence, two big glasses of water to make up for the alcohol-induced dehydration he had endured last night. And as it was, neither of them wanted Phil to get back into his dirty clothes, so Dan let Phil borrow some of his and told Phil that he'd wash them. And when Phil had first emerged from the bathroom in one of Dan's soft jumpers, a pair of joggers clinging to his hips, Dan had cursed under his breath, instantly knowing that letting such an attractive man wear his clothes was a mistake.

Thankfully, Phil hadn't seemed to notice.

What either of them had also seemed to have failed to notice, was that Phil wasn't technically supposed to be in Dan's flat.

At first, it was 'oh, your clothes are still in the washer'.

Then it turned into 'well we might as well have lunch while you're here'.

Then it was 'hey Dan you have Mario Kart? I didn't know that—can we play?'

And now, well, now it evolved into zero space between them, Dan's heart seizing in his chest as they watched Wonder Woman together on Dan's couch.

Phil inhaled deeply as on the screen Diana ignored Steve's protests and ran across the battlefield, her shield in front of her.

"Oh my god," Phil breathed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes wide. Dan, for his part, was happy that he had seen the movie already, because with Phil pressed to his side in his own clothes, he wasn't paying it any attention. The rest of the movie passed in a similar manner, and soon enough the credits were rolling and Phil was crying from the ending, still clutching onto Dan's arm where he had latched onto when the tension was running through the roof earlier.

"That was horrible! They deserved to stay together! How are you not crying?" Phil cried, looking at the credits still as if they would fade into a "jk lol that's not the real ending".

"Phil, I can't really change the ending of a movie. Also, maybe because I've seen it before?" Dan replied helplessly. He didn't really cry after movies. Phil just sniffled and wiped away the few tears that had leaked out of his eyes.

"I need a pick-me-up after that. Did you want to watch another movie? Though I have to put in a request for something that won't make me cry like a baby."

Dan looked at the clock in the lounge and frowned, disappointment settling heavily in his ribcage.

"We don't have time for another movie since I'm going to have to get to work soon," Dan started, and Phil's face fell, but Dan nearly tripped over himself trying to fix it, "but I can do pizza? That's enough of a pick-me-up, right?"

"Are you sure? I can leave, god, I didn't even ask if I could stay-"

"Phil," Dan interrupted, knowing where that train of thought was going and needing to stop it immediately, "you're fine, I promise. Today's been really fun and I'm glad you're here. C'mon, let's order pizza."

Dan watched as the frown that had been forming on Phil's face flipped instantly into a blinding smile, and he'd have been lying if he didn't say that the sight made the edges of everything glow as well.

And even hours later, when Dan was at the bar serving drinks to people, he couldn't stop the smile on his face—not when he was riding on the high of spending the day with Phil combined with Phil currently blowing up his phone with "I miss you" texts.

~~~~~

The golden feeling didn't even last a week this time though.

Things had been going insanely well. Dan and Phil had spent the next day—Dan's day off—together. Phil had called out of work once again, insisting that he made more than enough money and that he didn't need to be worrying about missing another day's pay when Dan protested. This day was one spent out and about, the two of them acting like absolute idiots together, window shopping and having too many snacks from food vendors.

Everything was perfect, and Phil was looking at Dan like that, and Dan wanted the whole day to be the rest of his life, because fuck they were so happy.

But the following night, when Phil stomped into Dan's bar at two in the morning, anger and pain in his eyes, Dan knew that the Phil he had been spending all of his time with recently was gone.

Phil asked for a drink, giving Dan less than a glance. He watched in horror as Phil threw back the shot without pause and asked for something stronger.

And goddamnit, but Dan wasn't working alone tonight, and before he could decide if it was better to confront Phil here and now or tomorrow after letting him get piss-drunk, his coworker had already given Phil what he was asking for and moved onto the next person.

The last two hours of Dan's shift ended up passing in a similar manner. Dan filled some of Phil's orders, trying to talk to Phil about how Dan was worried for him, but Phil would just ignore it. Other times, Dan was legitimately busy with other customers, and his coworker gave Phil the hard liquor he wanted without a second thought.

When Dan was clocking out at four-AM Phil was still there, holding out his glass as he waited for Dan's coworker—who was still working the bar—to fill it. When he saw Dan, he grunted and turned to Dan instead.

"'ere, Dan, 'ou can get th's," Phil slurred, drunk. Dan, who had been quickly put into a terrible mood at Phil drowning himself in alcohol, frowned and the glass out of Phil's hand. He left it on the bar counter with enough money to pay for Phil's tab. He grabbed Phil's arm by the elbow and hauled him up to his feet wordlessly, dragging Phil forcefully out of the bar. By the time they hit the cool night air Phil had recovered enough to protest.

"Dan, wha' the hell are 'ou doing?"

"My shift is done, Phil," he replied evenly, "You're drunk, once again trying to bloody kill yourself with alcohol, and I'm not letting you go home by yourself. That leaves you one option, and that's to come home with me."

It took Phil a few stumbled steps to make sense of what Dan said, but when he did he tried to pull back.

"Wha'? No, 'm going back," he mumbled, but Dan just tightened his grip and walked faster, Phil nearly tripping behind him.

"No, you're not. You're wasted and I'm not going to let you give yourself alcohol poisoning."

They were in Dan's car and speeding away soon enough, Dan's grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles a blotchy white.

Once they were inside Dan's flat he gave Phil his duvet and a pillow, and showed him the couch. When Phil tried to protest Dan gave him a firm "get to sleep, we'll talk in the morning" before he went into his bedroom and changed into something comfortable enough to sleep in. When he got back into the lounge with a blanket for himself, Phil was already unconscious. Dan sighed and started arranging himself on the floor, tired and angry and hurt. He fell asleep quickly, but when he woke up, his exhaustion didn't seem to have been satisfied.

He showered and cleaned up where he had slept by the time Phil started stirring. Dan took another sip from his coffee as Phil stretched, audibly wincing with a hiss of his teeth—it was probably his hangover, and judging at how Phil didn't have a sip of water last night, it was most likely remarkably worse than the last one. After a groan Phil propped himself up, blinking sleepily. His eyes landed on Dan sitting at his kitchen table, coffee in hand. Phil swallowed hard, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Morning."

"Was I as drunk as last time?" Phil asked after a moment, biting his lip.

"No," Dan replied quietly, "but nearly."

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Dan. You shouldn't have to cart me around and take care of a drunk me. I-"

"Phil, I'm your friend. I don't care if I have to support you and help you when you need it. But I'm not going to just sit by and give you alcohol whenever you want and take you home afterwards. Our friendship is worth more than that." The words made a defensive look cloud Phil's face.

"Didn't you just say that you would support me?"

"Yeah, and I also just said that I wouldn't enable your shitty choices, Phil." Dan bit back, properly angry all over again. Phil's face darkened, the former softness leftover from sleep gone.

"That's great support, Dan, thanks. Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of been trying to handle things, alright? I have a lot of shit to work through. Sorry if a little compassion is too much for you to handle."

"You call drinking until you can't remember the day before handling things?" Dan asked incredulously.

"You call whatever this is supporting me?" Phil cried, his voice raised.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you become an alcoholic, Phil!" Dan exploded. "And I'm certainly not going to help you become one! So, if you want to keep getting drunk off your ass because you're 'working through things' then you can go to some other bar because I'm not going to let you use me to self destruct! Do you know how many regulars I have at that bar? People with sadder stories than yours, who can't get by without at least a pint in their system at all times. People who are going to be dead by forty from liver failure. Do you want to become one of them?"

Phil was quiet for a moment.

"Do you really think that I'm using you to get drunk? What about two days ago, or the one before that? What about all of the texts?" Phil asked quietly. "You're my friend. You always come first over the alcohol."

"It doesn't always feel like that," Dan said softly, but no less harshly. He wasn't burning with anger anymore. He was tired. He just wanted to cuddle with Phil on the couch, but this was something that they needed to work through.

They both fell silent, unsure what to do, what to say, how to act. Phil sighed. 

"It's never an intention. Sometimes it just...hurts to the point where all I can think about is a way to numb it. Sometimes I'm okay, like when we were out the other day together And other times I'm in my flat and I just get so overwhelmed that it hurts too much. I can't deal with it." Phil said, near whispering. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "All I ever wanted was to be enough for him." Phil breathed, the tears spilling out of his eyes, crashing through the barrier that had been erected between them since the first drop of alcohol had passed Phil's lips last night.

Dan was up and out of his chair faster than he realized, nearly knocking over his coffee. They both pulled each other into the embrace, Phil gasping into Dan's neck through his sobs.

"It's okay, Phil, it's okay," Dan mumbled, clutching at Phil just as much as the other man did him. Dan desperately petted at Phil's hair and rubbed his back to comfort him. He ignored all of the emotions in his chest tangling together and simultaneously trying to force themselves out. Phil was more important right now.

"You're more than enough."

~~~~~

Phil ended up staying for the rest of the day like last time, but everything was just on this side of different. Both of their emotions were swirled together in a jumbled, confusing, unpredictable mess, which made for a few interesting interactions. There were several points in the day where one or both of them started crying due to one thing or another, and even more instances where one of them would snap at the other, sometimes sparking a quick spat before the inevitable rushed and sincere apologies.

Even more importantly, they patched all of the threatening cracks in their friendship and came to a greater understanding of each other. Their relationship was now one more attune to each other and less toxic for the both of them.

Dan pulled the blanket up higher over his body. It was late and the two of them had ended up on the couch, watching an absurd amount of Marvel together. Dan was sure that the blanket had essentially materialized, for he had no memory of Phil getting up to retrieve it and he was certain he hadn't. He wasn't complaining, however. The blanket quite literally softened the atmosphere around them and gave him an excuse to cuddle up to Phil's side.

Hours later, they were in the same spot. Phil however was out cold, his body half-slumped over Dan's, head on his shoulder. Dan didn't mind in the slightest. Phil was an incredibly cute sleeper, and being able to properly hold this wonder of a man was more than enough compensation for being his pillow.

On the screen, the characters were in the middle of the climax of the movie, fighting for their lives. Normally Dan got into scenes like these, but he was too wrapped up in soaking in all of the time with Phil he could get.

Dan knew that when the movie ended he'd have to wake Phil—he had work tomorrow and needed to get back home—but that was something he'd think about when the time came.

Dan watched Phil's eyelids flutter as well as his nose twitch, both by-products of whatever dream Phil was having at the moment. Dan smiled at it, an ache in his chest flaring at the sight of Phil so content.  God, he was so whipped for this man.

Dan's hand settled in Phil's soft hair, running his fingers through it as he twisted his body to let Phil lay more comfortably against him. Dan settled back into the couch, letting the warm feeling in his bones seep through his whole body as he cherished the last few minutes he had with Phil before he would leave him.

~~~~~

It became a habit.

Whenever Phil would wind up at Dan's bar he would go home with Dan and stay the night.  Even as Phil's self-destructive drinking habit started to shrink, and the need for Dan to make sure he lasted the night no longer became relevant, he still found himself waking up at Dan's the next morning.

A different product of their unspoken arrangement was that Dan's flat slowly became infused with Phil himself. He had a drawer in Dan's bureau, a toothbrush in the bathroom, and a permanent claim on the guest bed. But more than that, there were little reminders of Phil everywhere. A discarded shirt whose original owner had been long forgotten, a knick knack that Dan had no recollection of buying, an extra box of Dan's cereal for the mornings because Phil liked to snack on it and Dan was tired of having to run to Tesco's because he wanted breakfast. It was Phil having a key to the flat, and knowing how Dan made his coffee, and his lanky, relaxed form a regular and comforting presence in Dan's home.

It was so gradual that Dan didn't really notice the change until it had already happened. And by then, there was nothing he could do; Phil was properly rooted into his life and Dan was absolutely powerless to try and remove him.   

Of course, Phil was over more than regularly without the assistance of alcohol. They grew awfully close with the sudden co-dependence and the company they provided each other. Dan didn't even want to know how many hours they spent together, nor the insurmountable number of texts they exchanged while they were apart.

Dan had even been around Phil's, but every single time they would gravitate back to Dan's. Phil said it had something to do with the "feel" of Dan's flat, something about energy, but Dan didn't really believe him. Judging from the lack of personalized decor Dan had seen, Phil didn't really spend that much time in his apartment. And knowing what he did, Dan easily knew why Phil tended to avoid his own flat.

Dan just wondered why Phil hadn't changed any of it yet for a fresh start. It had been quite a bit since the breakup, and all of the lingering memories had to hurt.

There was also something growing between them. Dan could see it in the unnecessary brushes of their fingers and the prolonged touch of a hand on the other's shoulder. How much they sought after each other clear as day in their glances and smiles as well. Dan tried to keep his hopes from rising too high out of the ashes—Phil was dealing with a harsh breakup, and there was no telling that Phil would even want to act on feelings (that might not even be there, Dan's anxiety reminded him)—but it was like fighting an uphill battle.  

Dan was certain that he would be fine just as friends, but the guy had all but moved in and in the process showed them both what a domestic life together would be like, and it was so good it hurt.

Almost three months after Phil had last gotten properly smashed and broken down, he wandered into Dan's bar at around midnight. Dan hadn't seen him for a while, as odd as it was for them, and Phil coming around to Dan while he was at work had become even more rare.

He couldn't help but notice how good Phil looked with his hair quiffed, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, and his eyes sparkling. Dan was also extremely aware of how shit he himself looked.

"Hey," Phil said as he slid onto one of the barstools.

"Hi, stranger."

Phil grimaced. "I know, I'm sorry. But, the good news is that my department's work for the project is finished, so I should totally be working normal hours now."

"You're not going to leave me all by myself anymore?" Dan asked. He didn't even try to mask his excitement. It was lonely without Phil there to fill the cracks anymore.

"No, now you'll wish you changed the locks on the doors while you had the chance."

Dan laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded a little nervous and a little unsure. There was something glinting in Phil's eyes that Dan hadn't seen before.

"Can I get a drink for you? I doubt you came all this way to tell me that you were done being exploited by your company when you could have said as much through a text."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you." Phil said, leaning on the bar.

"Ha," Dan responded, copying Phil's movements, "don't make me laugh."  

Phil leaned in further, close enough that Dan could smell the mint on Phil's breath and see the swirl of color in his eyes. The sudden closeness forced the air in Dan's lungs to freeze, and he was sure he was staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil's eyebrow crinkled a little, and Dan knew it was because of Dan's self-deprecating comment.

"Would you like me to prove it?" Phil murmured, his voice an octave lower than before and fuck that made a shiver run down Dan's spine and his stomach drop to his toes. If he wasn't supporting himself on the bar Dan was sure his knees would have given out under his weight because jesus christ his legs felt downright weak.

Dan opened his mouth to try and respond, but the words didn't surface right away. He managed some garbled response, but what he even said he couldn't recall. Was it even English? He didn't know, but it made Phil laugh and lean back in the process, and with it their atmosphere from earlier returned—from wherever the hell it had gone, that is.

"I'll just have a beer, if that's alright. Nothing too fancy, please." Phil put enough money on the bar to cover his drink and Dan took it with a moderately shaky hand. He poured Phil one of the good tasting ones that people loved with his mind racing the whole while. Dan didn't know what had gotten into Phil, but he wasn't certain that he could survive a whole night of it, that was for sure.

Dan tried to pull himself together before turning back to Phil. He handed Phil the beer, determined to try to steer them both into a safer dynamic, but Phil reached forward and wrapped his hand around Dan's and the glass in the process. He held them both there for a heartbeat before taking the glass with his other hand, looking Dan in the eyes the whole time with an innocent smirk tugging at his lips.

I'm so fucked.  

Phil took a sip of his beer, eyes shining, the whole interaction taking no longer than a few seconds, yet leaving Dan near floundering.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Dan breathed, willing himself to get it together, damnit, "no problem."

~~~~~

Dan quickly came to the conclusion that Phil Lester was trying to kill him.

For one, the flirting had only increased.

Dramatically.

Dan lost count of how many innuendos Phil made, how many times he could feel or even watch Phil's gaze drag over him, all of the times that a touch lingered longer than strictly necessary.

It was confusing. Distracting. Completely...intoxicating.

He absolutely couldn't get enough.

Early on he gave up on trying to fight whatever game Phil was getting at and started playing along. He'd drop his own flirty lines and bend down a little further than necessary to reach the alcohol under the bar, fully aware of what it was doing to Phil.

They both knew they were in dangerous territory.

Did either of them care?

Dan at least didn't think so.

As people started to file out of the bar—Al herding them to the doors—Dan was incredibly aware of Phil still sitting on his stool, his chin resting in his hand so he could watch Dan as he cleaned up. They didn't talk, but it didn't feel like they needed to. The air around them was charged enough as it was; there was no reason to add fuel to the fire.

When Al was done he called his goodnight to Dan and Phil—who he knew by name at this point—and left.

Dan and Phil weren't alone in the bar for long. Or maybe they were, but Dan just wasn't paying attention to anything other than the presence of Phil.

They were outside before Dan even knew it.

He pocketed the key and turned around, all of his attention on how close Phil was and how the moonlight hit the pitch-black of his hair. For a minute they stood there, stuck by each other's gazes.

But then the spell was broken by Phil slipping his hand into Dan's and tugging him down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking lot that Dan always left his car in.

It was a miracle that Dan didn't suffer a stroke on that walk to his car, and it was even more of a blessing that he didn't crash because everything felt like such a fucking daze.

They'd never done anything like hold hands before, and Dan didn't know how to act, or what to say, or what the hell to even do.

He was completely powerless to whatever Phil had planned, and the shiver of excitement that kept running up Dan's spine made it clear that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Phil had been to Dan's flat so many times and so often that it was easier to count the times that he wasn't. He'd been there sober and piss-drunk and everywhere in between, and they all felt right. They all felt natural. This was no less right, but so much more unnatural. Here Phil was, the least drunk he'd ever been after leaving Dan's bar, standing in Dan's lounge and looking that fucking attractive, and gazing at Dan like he was that fucking attractive.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his hand lacing their fingers once again. Dan's mouth was dry and he felt overwhelmed, but he nodded. "How about this?" Phil questioned, his voice softening as he stepped into Dan's space, his spare hand finding its way to Dan's waist. The touch was hot, burning through the fabric of Dan's shirt and warming the skin underneath.

"Yeah."

Phil hummed in response and drifted closer until their faces were close, Phil's breath fanning out over Dan's cheeks.

"And if I kissed you, would that be okay?"

Would it?

That was a question that Dan felt like he knew the answer to, but now that it was being asked, he wasn't so sure.

On one hand, this felt like something that he had been waiting for ever since Phil had first walked into his bar. They had developed a healthy relationship over the months and months of knowing each other, and Dan loved having Phil as his best friend. However, as selfish as it was, he still craved something more. He wanted to know everything about Phil. He wanted to know what it felt like to sleep next to him, to kiss him, to wake up and see Phil right beside him, to spend their time together without worrying about if what they were doing was crossing a line or not. Dan wanted to support Phil and keep him standing when he needed it. He wanted to love him.

However, Dan had a nagging voice in the back of his head asking if this was actually right for them. Phil had been destroyed by his boyfriend cheating on him all those months ago, and he had made tons of progress, but Dan didn't want to be a rebound. He didn't want to be a fuck-buddy or a bit of worthless sex. He deserved better than any of that. He didn't deserve the heartbreak that would come with any of those options.

If this was going to happen between them, he wanted it to be real because these feelings in his chest were real.

Dan looked up, ready to push Phil gently away and whisper no, but he found that he couldn't because the look in Phil's blue eyes was the same one Dan saw in the mirror.

Dan didn't know if this was what was right for them. He didn't know what he should be doing, and he certainly didn't know if this would make or break them. But what he did know, what he was sure of, was that there was no more denying this thing between them; Phil wanted this just as much as he did.

"Yes."

Phil grinned before closing the distance between them and crowding Dan's space. Too many sensations were running through Dan's head for him to make sense of them all, but that didn't stop him from trying. He caught snippets of the feeling of Phil's lips, the heat of his body close to Dan's, the warmth of Phil's hand on Dan's hip, the texture of Phil's shirt under Dan's fingertips, and so many more.

He was incredibly sure however, that this was right.

All of the worries he had had about this thing between them were dissolving into bliss—how could he have ever doubted Phil when he was holding onto Dan like he was something precious?

Dan let his hands move from where they had been clutching at Phil's clothes to cup the sides of his face and pull him closer. That's all that Dan wanted right now—to be as close as they could.

The action brought a groan tumbling from Phil's mouth, the sound muffled from between their lips. Fuck, that was hot.

Phil's hands on his hips drifted a bit, the tips of his fingers pulling the fabric of Dan's work shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans and sliding underneath. It made Dan's mouth drop open a little, something that Phil took full advantage of. He coaxed Dan's mouth open the rest of the way and Dan let himself be utterly swept away at how good of a kisser Phil was.

"Come here," Phil murmured, pulling Dan backwards to the sofa. Dan just followed, his mouth seeking out Phil's.

Phil giggled at his antics and pushed Dan onto the couch. Dan let himself fall. Phil stood over him for a moment, just looking at Dan. The attention made Dan's heart race in a very good way, and he held his arms out, inviting Phil to join him. He readily went, their bodies slotting together in a delicious way. The weight of Phil on top of him was better than Dan could have imagined, and he let Phil steal his breath away with more kisses, their hands dancing across the skin of each other's sides.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Daniel," Phil whispered as he kissed down Dan's neck. He sucked a deep hickey into the skin there which made Dan moan and buck his hips. Dan felt Phil's smirk.

"I've been waiting for this for..I don't even know how long at this point. You're so sweet, and caring, and attractive that you make me question my vendetta against love." Phil rocked his hips against Dan's, their clothed cocks brushing together. It made Dan gasp and let his head fall back. Coincidentally, it also exposed his neck completely for Phil. A hand slipped into Dan's curls and tugged with enough force that Dan's head craned back all the way. At the same time Phil brought his mouth to Dan's pulse point and sucked.

Dan moaned, a loud, proper one that had Phil groaning in response and pushing their hips together again. Dan's eyelids fluttered as the stimulus crashed over him in waves, and all he could do was desperately rock his hips in time with Phil and clutch at his shirt like it was his lifeline.

"Dan," Phil gasped, sounding just as wrecked as Dan, "I need to know how far you want to take this. I'll stop if you want, but I just—fuck!—need you to tell me how much of you I can have."

They were both rutting against each other, panting and sweaty and needy. Dan shook his head, trying to breathe in enough oxygen to actually articulate the half-baked thoughts running around his skull.

"All of me," Dan moaned, the words tumbling out, "you can have all of me, please."

Phil's hands gave up their timidness at Dan's words and pushed his shirt up and over Dan's head. The rest of Phil's body slid down so he could kiss up and down Dan's chest, swirling his tongue around his nipples.

"Good."

~~~~~

In hindsight, Dan might have been right to worry about things going too fast.

The next morning Dan had woken up first, his body tangled with Phil's in bed. He had also been quite sore—a bit of knowledge that made flashes of Phil above him and thrusting deep surface whenever he blinked his eyelids.

Dan blushed a little as he thought about how much they had properly wrecked each other in Dan's bed last night.

When Phil had woken up however, all of Dan's hopes for a soft and loving morning were dashed away when Phil took one look at Dan in his arms and panicked.

It took a bit for Dan to properly calm Phil down, and when he did Phil scooted far away from him on the bed. It broke Dan's heart, but he was more concerned with how Phil was feeling to address his own emotions.

Phil ended up confessing that he wasn't sure if he was ready for a relationship yet, but he wanted one with Dan all the same. He cried when he told Dan how much he couldn't stand another heartbreak like the one he'd had with James, and Dan could only hold him while he let all of his fears out.

After a few tentative hugs and a long conversation of establishing what they both wanted and figuring out boundaries, they decided to try.

They took things ridiculously slow at first, and only attempted cuddling for the first few weeks. Eventually they branched into soft, loving kisses when Phil felt ready, and stayed content like that for a while. Dan let Phil lead them into more flirty territories, and it was Phil who first instigated their first make-out session as boyfriends. They had been dating for about six months before they had sex again, but this time they were both completely sober and it was more like making love then fucking.

Dan was more than happy to watch as Phil slowly got more and more comfortable with him in a romantic sense and showered Phil in as much love and care as he could.

Phil also gave up drinking as soon as they had started dating, which was something Dan was so proud of Phil for doing. Permanently sober Phil was Dan's favorite Phil, that was for sure.

And even if their start was a little rocky they found their stride, and now they'd been dating for close to two years. They had their own apartment, and  even with Dan's night shifts they found regular time to be together. Sometimes Phil would find his way to Dan's bar when he wasn't satisfied with their time together at dinner, and he would drink water or a soda and keep Dan company during his shift. Other times he would text Dan mercilessly no matter how many times Dan fondly told him that it was busy. Dan for his part would keep up with Phil while he was at the office, and had a bad habit of completely blowing up his phone when he was in an important meeting.

Neither or them would have it any other way.

Dan yawned and stripped himself of his work clothes in the dark. He had had to cover his shift for an extra hour because one of the other workers' car had broke down while they were on their way to relieve Dan, and he was dead on his feet. Dan flopped onto the bed and wrestled some of the sheets from Phil's sleeping grasp. He turned to his side and let his eyelids droop, but not before noticing Phil's arm snaking around his waist to pull him close. Dan smiled despite his exhaustion and snuggled close. Phil sighed in approval in his sleep and Dan giggled softly. He laced his fingers with Phil's and let his body relax into the mattress, content.

He really wouldn't have it any other way.

[anoceaninthesun]

What do you think of reviewers who post at the last chapter and say, "I usually review only on the last chapter. I like your story blah blah blah" Doesn't this common habit among the fandom readers take away any motivation for writers to update frequently? I feel there are more reviews for people who update once a month, than people who update once in three days.

This is interesting because despite the main way I interact with fandom spaces being from writing fanfics, I generally don’t get asked much about my opinions on reviews, despite having loads of them. Caveat to my response is I speak mainly from my own experience with maybe brief generalizations I feel fanfic writers would more or less agree on.

To the first part of the question, um, well honestly even if infrequent I guess I’d prefer to see people review throughout. This is because my fics tend to be longer. I do often get reviews from people along the lines of “I would’ve stopped to review sooner but I just got so caught up in binging I waited until there was nothing left to read, whoops” I get that sometimes that’s true. If it’s a really thoughtfully constructed longer review than I guess I’m good with that. If it’s 36 chapters published in the span of two years with over 200,000+ words (which is where ASiT currently sits) and you give me maybe two lines....yeah, I can say you likely aren’t exactly my favorite person when I open your review. 🤣

But this is because I spent two years cranking this out piece by piece and the returned investment is already so little I feel two sentences to sum up all that’s been read and processed and hopefully enjoyed, is less than the bare minimum. So in summary on that less is never more for longer works in my opinion. If you’d like to leave shorter comments here and there that are chapter specific as you read it makes a lot more sense for me.

Yes, lazy reviews in short absolutely do drain away motivation. I’ll just bluntly come out and say that. By lazy I mean the specific kind of reviewer often admits they thought it was okay to keep reading and not review, not even at the end, and they tend to pop up only when there hasn’t been an update in a while. That’s....yeah.

Personally I hardly ever do every three day updates. When a story is in its infancy and I’m trying to get a feel for how it’ll take off so I’m cranking out these short chapters consecutively you may see me do that with little regard to how many reviews the chapters are getting as long as it ups the word count, which in turn often makes the story easier to find and generates attention....but on longer works I strongly advise against trying to do updates weekly. Why? Well on systems like FFN (Fanfiction dot net), this will actually not move your work to the top of the system when the page refreshes.

Due to an outdated algorithm they have, one of many, it has to be like 8+ days between chapters before updating will cause your story to float to the top of the fandom’s page of recently updated fics. So for example if you update every three days, people already following and favoriting may be alerted but new readers just scrolling through not using tags won’t see it because it’ll have been buried. So yes people who update monthly absolutely do usually (notice italics) get more traffic than people updating much, much more frequently. Updating that frequently can also give readers a sense of entitlement in my experience and the experiences of other writers I’ve heard from.

Chapters get cranked out soooo steadily and quickly that many people won’t feel it necessary to post feedback. They’re not being made to wait and for some (for sure not all but many!!) readers the wait is all they care about. If they’re not waiting/ “being inconvenienced” then they’re not going to comment. That is their sole reason to want to reach out to you to remind you in some way, sometimes politely and sometimes rudely, that they’re still waiting.

That being said, we are most definitely not machines. I know when I discovered fanfic I was barely in double digits and when I clumsily posted my now long-ago-deleted first work, I could hardly be considered a teenager. Now I am an adult, albeit not a very old one, and my priorities have for sure shifted and the free time I found in abundance even in high school, is a lot more limited. I’ve got a lot going on at any given time. A lot of things require me to devote myself to them pretty thoroughly.

Social lives don’t make themselves; you have to work to keep cultivating those no matter if the relationship is platonic, familial, romantic or otherwise. Animals tend to be less likely to bite the hand that feeds them (not that they have in my case) when you spend time raising and training them and then keeping up that bond—not that anyone asked but right now my whole thing is experimenting with fruit salad combos I made myself to see what my new baby bird likes, and renovating his cage so he’s constantly stimulated enough not to try to figure out the locks😂😂.

I’m gearing up to try to kill myself with school again by going for a D.PH next fall (which means I need to apply now and that in itself is a long and expensive process) because living even remotely close to three decades (which is what I would be when I finally finished it) is overrated anyway. If that doesn’t work I can always shave about the same amount of time off my life with emergency disaster management work. So what I’m saying is, all the stuff that young adult me has been juggling for the last three years or so, ten or fifteen year old me would have no clue about in terms of priorities. She could read fics and write fics, read fics and write fics in a cycle.

People want me and writers who are just as busy as me to update frequently, so make it worth our while. Show us why you, the readers, are worth devoting a probably limited chunk of our free time to keep happy with a craft we’ve honed (in my case professionally with the help of degrees), when we could be doing literally anything else. I don’t advise people slaving away at a keyboard to put free fics out there every three days and then getting discouraged when it’s not received as well as they’d like, when nothing is wrong with updating monthly, or hell, even every six months if that’s all your personal schedule allows for.

Sometimes I do surprise updates sooner than expected when a reader has really made my day with a solid review that encouraged me to jump start my writing process or when something has gone well in life and I turn to my writing or when I myself am sick of not finding what I wanna read and want to see more of what I’ve written admittedly partially from wish fulfillment put down to page. But never count on that a writer will feel generous for nothing, is my advise to readers. And if you, anon, are a writer, or some of my aspiring fellow fanfic writers see this, again, go at your own pace to avoid burnout. It’s a really fun hobby that has undoubtedly brought me endless joy but existential rewards aside it can be thankless. You will feel unmotivated and unappreciated at times.

Especially when reviewers roll in after long absences on their parts to feed you a line about why they hadn’t reviewed for a while until you chased them out of your inbox with a broom for badgering you between updates. Hopefully this wasn’t too rambling to get something from. Thank you for the ask.