what to do when your mental health has hit rock bottom and every day is a constant struggle? draw zuko apparently ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

stay in the middle — 16. coolbeans

SYNOPSIS: Huening Kai would do anything for his best friend Taehyun, and this one small favor is no exception. It appears that Kai’s fellow campus journalist Y/N has caught his attention, and Taehyun needs help connecting to them. Befriending someone outside of his small social circle wasn’t something Kai did often, but he comes to find that it’s easy to get close to Y/N—maybe even getting a little too close.

word count: 1.6k

“This place isn’t as suffocating as I remembered.” Y/N couldn’t help but hum, gazing around the small cafe. Now that they weren’t overwhelmed with worries about social interaction anymore, they could properly appreciate the array of wooden decor lined up at the top of the cream walls. Plates, large utensils, framed coffee beans, the items were appropriate but quaint in its display. Y/N was quite charmed.

Sitting opposite to them, Kai made the practical decision of scanning the menu for their dinner selection. “My best friend and I often meet here in the early morning to charge up before our classes.“

“The same best friend that helped you with your report outline for earlier?”

Kai gave a nod.

“With the amount of times you’ve mentioned him, I’m wondering why I haven’t met him yet.” Y/N laughed.

A penguin pout graced his lips. “Ah, he’s especially busy these days because he’s in the volleyball team, training and all. But I promise you I’ll introduce him to you eventually.” He crossed his arms over the table. “Likewise, I want to meet your friends too.”

Y/N scrunched their face. “I fear they’re not as cute and into Sanrio as I am.”

“Not even Soobin?”

“He’s only cute. That’s the only thing he’s got going on for him.”

Kai giggled—or rather cackled with incredibly more power than necessary, earning him a few stares from the neighboring customers. After realizing his volume, he immediately turned to bow in silent apology to each table, looking like a docking ostrich in the process.

“We should probably take our orders now.” Y/N said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Good idea.”

Y/N requested for a plate of carbonara while Kai went for a traditional caesar salad, along with two glasses of blue lemonade.

Once the waiter had left, the two were met with comfortable silence. They had just finished observing the swim team for almost three hours, it had already been a long day for them.

Although they have definitely grown much closer since the last time they were here (the longest and most awkward 30 minutes of their life, as Y/N remembered it), they found that they didn’t need to be constantly speaking to enjoy each other’s presence. Both naturally leaned more toward being the quiet type anyway.

The same panicky boy that made a mess out of Y/N’s papers almost a month ago wore a much calmer countenance today, his ebony curls more neatly kept and eyes crinkling into creases. He was fiddling with the corners of the paper placemat beneath him, creating a pile of paper crumbs that had been softly ripped apart.

“You’re not gonna have a placemat by the time the food arrives if you keep at it.” Y/N teased, pointing at the pile.

The tips of Kai’s ears colored. “Oops, habit of mine. My hands get restless so I often fidget without thinking.”

“No need to justify yourself, I promise. How about you help me with something instead to keep you busy.” Y/N then turned to their backpack to fish out a pastel pink notebook. They slid it in front of Kai to reveal the numerous Hello Kitty stickers decorating the front cover.

“That’s a lot of glitter on those stickers.” Kai’s own eyes sparkled at the sight.

“I always say it’s never enough.” Y/N smirked before flipping to the last filled page. Scribbled all over it was a mind map of words like moon, aliens, and galaxy, drawn arrows pointing them toward each other. “See, before I got in The Hybe Times, I used to submit self-written stories to the local student magazine. I’ve been thinking of submitting another one for the first time in so long, but I can’t quite stick to one idea.”

Kai took in Y/N’s explanation while examining the seemingly nonsensical writings on the page. “I’m gathering that your story is space themed?”

“Yep. The upcoming issue will commemorate the anniversary of the moon landing, so outer space was given as the prompt.” Y/N leaned backward, heaving a sigh. “But space is such a broad topic—kind of literally, too. So much could be talked about, how do I condense it into one short story?”

Kai’s eyes remained focus on trying to follow the words on the page, eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully. “Hm, do you know what all these arrows remind me of? Constellations. Metaphorical lines that connect different bodies together to form a bigger picture.”

Y/N blinked at his interpretation, caught pleasantly surprised. “That’s… I like that.”

“You do?”

“Constellations as lines that connect and create a bigger picture…” Y/N flipped the notebook back to face them and started furiously inking down the sparks in their mind. From their peripheral, they saw Kai watch in awe, his mouth slightly agape. Y/N only let a select few people witness their “light bulb” moments like these so they were admittedly a bit flustered under his gaze.

They finally looked up, corners of their lips stretched wide. “I don’t know how you did it but you just helped me plot out a full beginning, middle, and end of a short story.”

“That fast?” Kai gawked. “I’m impressed.”

“The mind works in mysterious ways.” Y/N reached forward to tap Kai’s temple with their finger. “Yours so much more so than mine.”

At that moment, Y/N’s eyes caught something from behind Kai’s head. Two figures had entered the packed cafe—two familiar figures.

Y/N quickly docked their head and tucked their notebook beneath the table, startling Kai. “I-is something wrong?”

Y/N’s voice lowered. “Don’t turn around, but Jungwon and Jay just entered the cafe.” They buried their face in their hands. Of course they’d come here; Jungwon was their field partner, and the swimming compound was right beside this cafe. It’d make sense for him to seek dinner here after fieldwork too.

Kai’s mouth rounded into a silent “oh”, nodding slowly and trying his best to remain calm for Y/N’s sake.

Unfortunately for Y/N, they made the mistake of peaking up again, accidentally making eye contact with Jungwon. At the sight of his co-journalists, he gave a big enthusiastic wave before dragging his friend along to their table.

“Kai hyung, Y/N! Thank goodness you’re here.” Jungwon greeted, grin wide. “The waiter just told us there were no more seats available. Do you mind if we sat with you instead?”

Jay stood rigid beside Jungwon, arms linked with each other. He gave the two a polite smile in greeting. Other than that, his face was practically unreadable—Y/N was hoping they’d figure out how he feels about getting a minor role alongside them, but maybe some answers are not this easily attainable. Still, his unreadability didn’t dismiss the way his hair was parted to the side so neatly, nor the way his slick leather jacket hugged his figure handsomely. Wait, how does an article of clothing hug one’s figure handsomely?

Y/N felt Kai’s expectant eyes on them, waiting for their call. (They were hoping his stare was not because they were noticeably blushing furiously at the moment.)

“Uh… sure! Come take a seat.”

Jungwon clapped gratefully. Right before any movements occurred, Kai swiftly switched to take the space beside Y/N, allowing the newly arrived duo to sit opposite them. It was as if he had read their mind begging for him to block any chance of Jay sitting close to Y/N.

“What did you guys order?” Jay asked diplomatically.

“Kai ordered a salad for two. Perhaps you’d like to take his other half?” Y/N promptly replied, to which Kai raised an eyebrow. They weren’t wrong, but Kai had the appetite for two servings; he very well meant to finish the salad on his own.

“I promise I’ll get you a big bowl of ice cream after to compensate. I just don’t want to have to wait for their orders too.” Y/N rapidly said below a whisper, ensuring that the other two didn’t hear them. Kai gave a thumbs up of content.

“Oh, I do love salad. That’d be nice, thank you.”

“Jay can pay for the entire bill, too.” Jungwon smirked, earning him an eye roll from his hyung. “What about me, though?”

“You can share Y/N’s carbonara! Also made for two.” Kai offered quickly. He lowered back down to Y/N to whisper, “I’ll make up for that with another big bowl of ice cream for you too.”

Y/N could feel their heart thumping in their ears out of nervousness.

“I’m more of a spaghetti person myself but I won’t complain since I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, a waiter arrived with their orders. The group then dined without chatter, busy enjoying their meals (and trying to stay calm in front of their crush, in Y/N’s case).

“Did you receive Yunjin’s message in the group chat?” Jay finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

Y/N nearly choked on their bacon. “O-oh. I haven’t been on my phone for the past hour. What did she say?”

“She already wrote specifications about our characters on the script. We’ll be rehearsing alongside the main cast tomorrow.”

“That’s great! I’ll read through the script later.”

“You guys have the same roles?” Jungwon asked.

“Uh, you could say that.” Jay simply replied, taking a sip from the service water. How on earth did he manage to make that something to swoon over.

Y/N had to slap Kai’s lap to bring them out of their trance, much to his poor surprise. “How are you enjoying the salad, Jay?” Kai spoke out of panic.

“It’s all right. My dad knows how to prepare an even better one though.” It should have sounded like a brag, but it came out more lighthearted. “I can pack extra to rehearsals one day for you to try, Y/N.”

“Coolbeans! I’d be honored to try.”

Jay lips pressed into a smile. “Hang on, I need to use the restroom.” He excused himself from the table, and the moment he was completely out of sight, Kai stifled a laugh.

“Coolbeans?”

Y/N plopped their head on Kai’s shoulder, groaning in embarrassment. “Why does time always seem to slow down whenever I’m in this cafe.”

A cough broke, causing Kai to turn to the scrutinizing gaze of Jungwon. “There’s something going on that I don’t know about.”

Y/N continued to grumble incoherently, forehead still stuck to Kai’s shoulder.

“Do you not care to tell me?”

“None of your business, Yang!”

< prev | masterlist | next >

a/n: kai and y/n can’t just be depicted as chronically online moots-ies forever so i decided to make a written chapter for them 😔🤞 lmk what you think of their dynamic so far 😙

TAGLIST: open!! leave a comment below or send me an ask to be included in this taglist ^^ (if your name is in bold, i can’t tag you)

@kaisdefender @fairysh4mpoo @0rangemilk @beomsbeanie @hanjisungsgirl @luvsoobs @goldennika @spagettae @solarsolarity @hy2ka-i @aestheticsluut @sophie-writingtime @quitbeingawhore @destinylightlove42 @softpia

Mystery Kids and the Case of the Whispering Rock

Summary: Norman, Neil, Coraline, Wybie, Raz and Lili arrive at Grunkle Stan’s Summer Camp with the hope of having a summer of fun, or in the case of the two Psychonauts, with the intent of investigating a psychic disturbance. When they meet two twins that seem to be experts on the secrets of Gravity Falls, they find themselves reluctantly teaming up. But how much can they actually trust each other? There are secrets in this town, but more surprising are the secrets being kept from each other.

Table of Contents

Act 2

Chapter 24: The Right Tools

Thud!

“Oops.”

Tiny particles invade Wybie’s throat. He started coughing and found he couldn’t stop.

“I think you went overboard on the glitter…” Wybie managed to choke out.

“Nonsense! There’s no-” Mabel began to cough. “Such thing... as too much…” But she couldn’t finish her sentence, and instead, she doubled over with wheezing, hacking breaths.

“You were saying?” Wybie asked. It was becoming easier to breathe as the glitter began to settle on the floor of the attic bedroom around them. “Also… why did we need glitter again?”

“Neil, tell him,” Mabel said with a nod to the red-headed kid beside her.

"Glitter enhances everything," Neil informed him matter-of-factly. "It's called aesthetic."

"And more of a good thing is always a good thing!" Mabel added cheerily.

Wybie raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not sure that's true." However, he didn't say anything more than that. Wybie had known the girl for only a few days, and he had already learned that arguing sense into her was pointless.

Wybie looked down at the square device on the ground which used to be black, but was now pink, had a collection of cupcake stickers, a cat made out of puff paint with big eyes, and rhinestones clustered in any additional left over space. With Mabel’s newest addition, the whole device was also now covered in glitter. As mismatched and horrible as the whole thing looked, he had to admit the cat was painted really well. After the mummy project, Wybie had no doubt that the girl was talented artistically, even if she did have… unusual tastes.

When Neil and Mabel said that they wanted to help Wybie fix the EMF meter, he expected that they would just help him find supplies. He didn’t expect… this kind of help.

“What’s wrong with how it looked before?” Wybie asked.

Mabel shook her head, as if he had just asked the silliest question she had ever heard. “If you were a ghost, what would you be drawn towards? A boring black square box? Or this work of art?”

“Definitely this,” Neil agreed. “It's a lot more fun and everyone likes cupcakes!”

“But the problem wasn’t about getting the ghost’s attention,” Wybie explained. “The problem was getting the device to work properly.”

After they got home from getting lost in the woods and finding the mysterious cabin, Wybie had started working on building the EMF meter while the rest of the kids finished the fake mummy for the shack. It wasn’t a very complicated device, and by the next day, Wybie had the device built. EMF readers detect electromagnetic fields that are given off by electronics, especially old electronics that don’t have their wires properly shielded. EMF fluctuations are also said to indicate ghostly activity. The idea was, even if they couldn’t see Luis themselves, the EMF meter should be able to pick up his ghostly energy… provided they were far enough away from any electronics that could set off the EMF meter. Wybye was still a little skeptical of the science, but he didn’t have a better idea.

Coraline and Norman had been eager to get back to the Cardinal’s old mansion to see if they could find Luis again as soon as possible. They wouldn’t be able to communicate with him if they couldn’t see or hear him, but at least the EMF reader would indicate if he was still around or not. Once they knew if Luis was still around, they could work on other ways of communicating with him.

When they arrived back at the old mansion, Wybie turned on the EMF meter and it immediately calibrated to the surrounding area. The device had an indicator needle that could swing between green, yellow and red; green indicating low electromagnetic energy, yellow indicating medium, and red indicating high levels.

At first, the device was reading green, but as they stepped further into the house, the needle swung to yellow, and the device started letting out a slow beeping noise. Excited, Wybie tried to find the source of the electromagnetic field disturbance by moving the EMF meter around. Coraline eagerly called Luis’s name, but she got no response.

As Wybie swung the device to his left, he noticed that the device started beeping louder as the needle detected more activity. He moved to the left and the beeping increased, the needle moving to red. Slowly, he seemed to be narrowing in on the location of the disturbance. He stopped in front of Norman, and Norman moved out of his way- only for the beeping to decrease again as the needle moved back down to yellow. Wybie adjusted his position, and he was able to pick up the trail again… only to find himself standing in front of Norman for a second time.

Norman’s eyes widened in surprise and the color seemed to drain from his already pale face.

“Wh-what does that mean?” Norman asked nervously as he eyed the EMF meter. “Why is it focusing on me?”

“I’m not sure,” Wybie said as he fiddled with some of the buttons on the meter. “Do you have your phone on you? You should give it to someone else. Maybe that’s what’s setting off the device.”

Norman did so, handing over his phone to Neil.

Norman stepped away from the EMF meter, but again, it focused in on Norman, beeping incessently.

Norman shifted uncomfortably as everyone stared in confusion at the device.

“Wait, I think I’ve seen this movie,” Raz exclaimed with a fake gasp. “Norman’s been dead the entire time!”.

A few lighthearted chuckles from the group eased the atmosphere, and Norman let out an awkward laugh himself.

“It’s probably because Norman was possessed by Luis,” Dipper suggested. Some of his ghostly energy must still be on him, which is messing with the EMF meter.

“Can you do something about that Wybie?” Coraline asked. “We aren’t going to be able to find Luis if the EMF reader keeps lighting up everytime Norman gets close, and I really don’t want to have to wait to find out how long ghost energy can last on a person.”

“I can probably make the device less sensitive,” Wybie said. “That should make it harder to detect Norman and more likely that it will detect a bigger electromagnetic disturbance, like a ghost… theoretically. That's assuming this is even a valid method of finding a ghost.”

“I can leave,” Norman suggested hesitantly. “Maybe that would make it easier for the EMF meter to work if I wasn’t here?”

Dipper shook his head. “No, you should stay. We want to make sure the instrument is actually reading a ghostly entity, not just left over energy. We can actually use you to make sure the calibration is correct.”

“The new calibration might take a while, but I think it will be ready by tomorrow,” Wybie said.

Coraline frowned impatiently, but nodded. “I guess we have no choice but to wait until then.”

“Oh! I can help you, Wybie!” Mabel said eagerly

“Me too!” Neil chimed in.

“Sure,” Wybie said with a shrug.

After all, how could more help be a bad thing?

Past Wybie had been so naive.

Well, Mabel and Neil hadn’t messed with the inside of the device, and as long as it was still functional, that was the most important part.

”You fixed the inside and we fixed the outside! We make a great team!” Mabel said, patting him on the back.

“The outside wasn’t broken-”

“Agree to disagree,” Mabel said flippantly.

“But I haven’t completely fixed it yet,” Wybie said. “I still need to screw this back panel on, but the screws I had to use for the back panel are a lot smaller.” It was a common occurrence when Wybie built things out of spare parts. No big deal. He just needed to use different tools. “I need to use something else. Neil, can you hand me that smaller screwdriver by your leg?”

“Sure!” Neil said and offered the screw driver to Wybie, who thanked him.

“I guess it’s time to find out if it works,” Wybie said as he finished tightening the last screw. “Coraline wanted to try the mansion again today as soon as this was done.”

“Didn’t Mr. Pines want us to work in the shack all day? Won’t he be mad if we all just left?” Neil asked.

“Raz and Lili left a few times yesterday and I think they were gone this morning and I don’t think Mr. Pines noticed. He was too busy with all the tourists,” Wybie said.

“Oh yeah… Why do you think Raz and Lili keep leaving without telling anyone?” Neil asked.

Mabel’s smile widened. "I bet Coraline’s right and they're sneaking away to make out!"

"But whenever they leave they are always really serious and determined. That’s not how people look on TV when they’re about to go kiss someone, or my brother with his boyfriend,” Neil said.

“Also if they are just sneaking off to kiss, why would they be gone for hours?” Wybie added.

“Because they are going on romantic dates, obviously!” Mabel insisted.

“Two to three times a day?” Wybie countered.

Mabel shrugged. “They’re in love!”

“Maybe.” Wybie said, but he suspected there was more to it. Perhaps they were trying to get out of doing work around the shack? Or maybe they had found something more interesting to do in Gravity Falls?

“Do you think your Grunkle would be okay if we left the shack early today to go to the mansion?” Neil asked.

“It depends,” Mabel said thoughtfully. “Grunkle Stan cares if it eats into the profits. With all the new customers we’ve been getting because of the mummy exhibit, he’s probably too happy to care. It’s also past the mid-day rush anyway. We probably won’t get another big batch of tourists until tomorrow.”

Wybie was glad he had been lucky enough to avoid the crowd of tourists that had come to the shop to see the grand reveal of the mummy. The reason Wybie had time to finish the EMF meter was because Coraline, Dipper and Norman were handling the gift shop so they weren’t needed downstairs.

Wybie looked over his EMF meter and turned it on. It hummed, but didn’t start beeping right away, which was a good sign unless the twins bedroom was hunted. In which case it should be beeping very incessantly…

Wybie sighed and turned off the device.

“What’s wrong?” Mabel asked.

“Machines I understand. I could tell you a hundred facts about the different spiders and slugs living in the Pacific Northwest. When I don’t know something, I can research it until I figure it out. But this… ghost stuff. I don’t understand it at all

Mabel cocked her head to the side. “And that’s… bad?”

“Yes!” Wybie said, throwing his hands into the air. “We spoke to a ghost, we found a cabin in the woods powered by magic! I’ve seen all this crazy stuff in the past two days and I don’t know how to make sense of it! How am I supposed to learn or study about something that just breaks the laws of physics? I know ghosts are real. I saw Louis with my own eyes and I’ve known monsters are real ever since… Well, that thing that Coraline doesn’t want to talk about. I can see it, and believe in it to a certain extent, but how am I supposed to understand it? What units of measurement do I even use for ectoplasmic energy or the amount of magic powering the cabin? How am I supposed to understand it, let alone build a device to detect it?” He held up the EMF reader in frustration.

To Wybie’s surprise, Mabel giggled. “You sound like my brother.”

“I do?”

“Dipper will go on and on and say that he loves mysteries, but that’s not true. It’s not the mystery he likes, it’s solving them. The truth is my brother hates mysteries. He can’t stand the uncertainty… he hates not knowing, it eats at him. What he really enjoys is putting the pieces together. You’re similar, you like taking things apart and then putting them back together, but better than before. But with this ghost and magic stuff you’re stuck.” She held up his discarded screwdriver. “Your usual tools aren’t going to help you understand.”

“So what I’m I supposed to do?”

Mabel shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know how that stuff works either. What do you usually do when you’re stuck and what you’re trying to do isn’t working?”

Wybie frowned. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get stuck with an engineering problem, but what did he do when he was completely out of his depth?

“You get better tools.” Neil said eagerly and Wybie looked up. “Just like you had me get a different screwdriver for the different sized screws.”

Wybie nodded slowly. “I improvise. But how am I supposed to get better tools to understand magic and ghost stuff?”

Mabel shrugged again. “I guess that’s just another mystery?”

Wybie groaned. “I hate when there are too many mysteries and not enough solutions.”

Mabel grinned. “Welcome to Gravity Falls.”

I'm finally back with the beginning of Act 2! I hope you liked it!

I've also been busy going back and editing this story. I haven't made any major changes so there is no need to reread the story since everything is mostly the same!

Table of Contents <Previous

Survey #456

“i don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger, & that feels so rough”

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? I know at LEAST over an hour. I was in agony. What type of TV shows are your favourite? Animal docs. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Bitch I still am lmao. Do you know anyone who has died in battle? No. When was the last time you went on an adventure? Bro, I could NOT tell you. I haven't had one of those in what feels like eons. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I actually don't know. I don't pay attention. Are you good at rapping? Never tried, but I'm sure I'd be awful. I stutter too much. Name one world issue that upsets you. Just ONE????????? Well, I can name homelessness as very high on the list. How do you feel about tanning? I hate it. I can't stand the heat, so why would I deliberately go bake in it? Have you ever given a public speech? Yeah, in front of the whole 4th and 5th grade when I was innnn... one of those grades, idr which. It was for my D.A.R.E. essay. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? NOOOOOOOOOOO I'm way too awkward. Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Bro who tf kisses with their eyes open, that shit is creepy. Do you believe you can change someone? No. One can only change themselves. How did you react when your first pet died? I have no memory of our first pet. Have you ever drawn anime? No. Can you use a pogo stick? When I was a kid, I became a MASTER. I got one for I want to say Christmas and I was obsessed. When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? Idk, first he needs to get on Facebook and see I messaged him alsdkfjalkdj. He like never gets on there. Do you like bathing/showering? No. One, it's a chore, and two, it's actually painful for me, standing up so long and propping my legs up and stuff like that to clean myself properly. Have you ever considered entering a race? HEEEEEEEEEEELL no. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Probably Gaga, idk. Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I actually kinda want a TV now? What do you take the most pictures of? Flowers. What are you always in the mood for? Lately, Krispy Kreme donuts, lol. I haven't had one in a very long time, but goddamn does a hot glazed donut sound BANGIN' right now and has for days. What is something that you never turn down? Hm... how am I blanking??? What is something that you always turn down when offered? Certain foods or drinks, like tea. Name something sexy about your significant other. I don't have one'a those. What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Um, idk. As interests work, I may move away from any hobby eventually. If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Dance. If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? Violin. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? A mortician. That job doesn't even seem all that bad to me? I think it'd be kinda chill somehow???? I could NEVER be a surgeon. I'd be terrified of fucking something up. Have you ever been on a subway? No. Are you in love? No. Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? *eyes emoji* Do you want to get married when you’re older? Yes. What was the last band shirt you wore? PROBABLY my Metallica shirt? But I'm unsure, ultimately. You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? Ugh, I've been wanting a nice chocolate milkshake for a while. Have you ever given someone flowers? For Mother's Day one year, I collected some wildflowers to put in a jar for Mom. I've also given Jason roses before. I really wanted to give Sara some when I surprised her for her birthday, but I didn't want to ask her parents to drive me somewhere where I could buy her some, ha ha. What day of the week is usually your busiest day? None. My days are all the same. Do you have any concerts coming up? No, but UGH, I was so hyped a few days ago because I saw Motionless In White was going on tour next year, but of course they're going to the big city on the OTHER end of the state versus the capital, which I'm way closer to. -_- Bands ALWAYS choose Charlotte on the super rare occasion they come to NC... Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ugh, I hate it. What’s your favorite brand of chips? Doritos, maybe? Between Mountain Dew and those... I am such a fucking gamer stereotype lmfao. Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? I think I had to before in school? Idr. Do you like pineapple? Love it. Does your house have a dishwasher? Yes. A dishwasher is one thing I MUST have in my own future house. I cannot stand touching dirty dishes. Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? Oh, absolutely. Sunflower tattoos are especially popular around here. How many different languages can you say goodbye in? English, German, and uhhh Spanish? Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. I don't mind them. I've never understood the hate, honestly? I think he's capable of being funny. Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Only by myself when I was a kid losing my baby teeth. Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? Nooooo. If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? Fuck no, I hate it. What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don't like those. Do you get cold easily? No, but I get hot extremely easily. Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? I don't think so, no. Do you admire nature? I positively adore nature. If only we treated it better... Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Done sexual things in places I probably shouldn't have, oops. Name two of your favorite things as a child. Pokemon and Webkinz. Do you own a Pillow Pet? No. They're cute, though. My niece has one. Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Absolutely not. Have either of your parents gone to jail? No. Do you know a hoarder? Yes. Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I just leave 'em be, honestly. Do you have any interesting scar stories? Not really. Do you hate the texture of meatballs? No, I love me some meatballs. Do you get migraines? Very, very rarely. They fucking suck. Do you like guns? NOOOOOOO guns terrify me alsd;kjfal;sdjfk Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') How much time do you spend taking surveys? A whole lot. It's just that I'm like... always bored and the randomness of surveys can add interesting little flares to the day, I guess. Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, for sure. Would you like to work at a candy shop? No. I don't want to work directly with people. Do you have feelings for someone? It's funny; now that I've settled the extreme indecision, I've come to realize that they're very strong feelings. How you go from being indecisive to really, really liking somebody, hell if I know. Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? Uhhh Girt is like my only real guy friend, so I guess it's by default him, ha ha. I'm not particularly attracted to him, but he's not ugly by any means. Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? I'm so sorry. Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? Either Ozzy or Metallica. Most likely Ozzy, though. Which song describes your mood at the moment? Hm. I dunno. Which movie(s) do you quote the most? None, really. Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? None; we don't share irl friends, being many states apart, and not even that many online ones. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? I don't have my own car. Which one of your friends will be the most successful? I'm not psychic. What store did you last shop at? Mom and I picked up a Wal-Mart order the other day. Do you think telepathy is real? Absolutely not. When did you last draw something for fun? A few days ago, I started a drawing of Maieykio for Sara. Who makes the most in your entire family? I have no idea. Do you like writing essays? I don't mind, if the topic interests me. Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? Nah. Well, I think you can take it to an visual extreme, but that's just my opinion. Do what makes you comfortable in your own body. Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It's picked up. When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? The inside of my elbow. Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? It usually happened at night. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? Haven't taken it yet. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? OH MY GOD NEITHER Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one, really? Well, unless you count my change of feelings for Girt, but it's just that: a type of change. I've loved him platonically since high school, and it's like, I feel the same for him, just in a romantic way now? Does your car have a sunroof? No. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? My mom. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? Nope, not how I roll. Who’s the last person you cuddled with? Sara. Unless you count my cat. Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Former teachers, yes. I feel kinda bad for 'em now... They're all the sweetest, God-fearing people, and then there's my outspoken (online) and liberal ass sharing shit that's gotta disappoint them now lmaoooo.

Fist of Fire.2.17

The hot arid air of the Mojave Desert bore itself in the lungs of two men standing outside Clint’s Bar. It was an average biker joint, looking like a saloon of old stuck on the side of a highway going to a much more desirable place. The two men, some run of the mill looking bikers surveyed the horizon of the cracked and dried rock and piles of sand and saw nothing. The most activity they saw was a tumbleweed roll gently by them, carried by a wind that only brought more heat with it. Although the parking lot outside Clint’s was full, there were no noises coming from within the bar, but to these men that was normal. One of them took out a cigarette and lit it with his hands, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He then got a message on his phone, and looked. In almost synchronous nature, both men walked into the doors of  Clint’s Bar and locked them in their wake. 

All of this was seen and heard by a woman miles away, lying prone. She covered herself in dirt and desert weeds and held in her hands a pair of binoculars. Her blonde hair,colored to match the desert soil, was tied behind her in a practical braid. Her face, a light tan covered in more soil, was tucked under a hat with a shrub placed over it. For all intents and purposes this woman was hidden to any who looked in this direction, or even looked closely. She slowly shimmied herself back from the edge and took cover behind the backside of the hill she was spying over. Her hand reaches for a notepad on her belt, and she scribbles into it. After putting it away, she takes out a device. It has just one button on it, and begins tapping it in a series of dots and dashes. After this, she packs up, and begins hiking into the desert.

In the city of Cincinnati, there was a bank robbery going on. Terrified people ducked under cover as four giants ran down the street, chased by police cars. The crowded city streets were full of chaos, as these four giants were destroying parts of whole buildings and crushing cars. In the hands of each they carried bank vaults, the entire thing. They laughed uncontrollably, as when the police fired from their weapons they did nothing to pierce the skin of the giants. One of them, the presumed leader of the pack, turned towards another and yelled, “We’re gonna get away with this! No one can stop us!” Then, as his head was turned, a firetruck flew into his head. The giant did a full backflip then hit the road like a sack of bricks. The vault falling with a loud thud, and property damage, besides him. The other giants stop and look at their fallen leader with an expression of shock overtaking them, that is until one of horror comes. In front of them, floating several feet in the air to reach their eye level, was a muscular man dressed in blue jeans, a shirt that had a greek letter familiar to all, and a helmet that covered his head in its entirety. The helmet looked like that of a Trojan Warrior, with long accented faceplates and a netting underneath it to hide his facial features. The man had his arms crossed above his chest, and a booming voice came from his mask that was heard for blocks around.

“I don’t know how you thought no one could stop you. Don’t you read the news?”

At that the man moves at sonic speeds and spearheads another giant in the stomach, sending it flying back several blocks and into a large stone building, now unconscious. The other two giants drop their vaults and run, trying to flee, but are stopped when a dash of black and blue wake circles around their legs and they fall. Their heavy bodies hit the ground and, before a heavy punch is delivered to their heads, they see electrical lines had been wrapped around their legs.

Standing victorious over the giants bodies, crowds begin to cheer as they send accolades to the hero. Reporters run up to him, microphones ready and cameras rolling. “How did you know they were going to be here?””Is there anyway you could have caused less destruction?””Do you have any words for the people at home?””Will you attend the Colored Heroes Rights conference in July, as the most famous hero of color?” The man just stood there and said various nothings into the cameras, his voice quieter than when addressing the giants. “Damages are expected, I was just in the neighborhood, and of course I'm showing up to that! I’d be dumb not to.” He steps away from the crowds and picks up the giants by the wires holding them, rising into the air. “And for the people at home,’ he says turning his head towards the camera once more,”Stop committing crimes. I want to go home one day!” With that he became a blur and the giants were gone from the city.

A couple hours later, after the giants were delivered to the Ohio Powered Incarceration Center and the vaults given back to their banks, the man found himself sitting alone under a shady tree in the countryside. After looking around with a vision that extended for miles, he takes off his helmet. A short cut but neatly trimmed black beard and bald head greet the cool air with gratitude as he takes a deep breath. “Another day, another lock up.” He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone, and starts to go through his missed emails and whatnot, when he notices a notification from an app he usually never checks. Which meant…

He opens it up and examines the contents. They read: TRACKED-ETEAM-2-NV-STOP. ETEAM-IS-ALIVE-STOP. MORE-INFO-LTR-STOP. HEG.

He lowers his phone and sighs a breath of stress and anger. “You damned cockroach.” He stands up and grabs his helmet, and angrily puts it on. “No one does all this and keeps living.”

He then gets a call on his phone and answers. “Omegaman,” the voice says over the phone,”You’re needed in Detroit, danger rating 78%. Gravity monster.” Omegaman sighs and replies. “On my way.”  As he lowers his phone from his head, he looks to the skies.”I’ll get to you later, Emesh.” With that, he soars into the clouds.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my God mom, it's not that big a deal!” Jade sat in her living room while her mom played with her hair and sprayed something here, pinned something there, readjusted this and so on. “It is so! This is your first date in..” Jade’s mom paused, holding a can of hairspray away from her daughter. “Well, ever!” She resumed her pampering ,with Jade spitting as the spray got into her mouth. She was dressed in a white and red dress, and it was a stunning one. It had an open back and the red spiraled up the whole body while the white sparkled in the light. 

“It's just a dance, mom. It's nothing big!” As Jade spoke this, Joseph rolled himself in from the spare room he was staying in, a large purse laying across his lap. “Au contraire, Jade. This is the AHA’s summer gala. It happens once a year and you have never  gone to one and with your senior year coming up it will be your last one as well! You must go. And, you even got a date so that makes it all the better!” He places the purse at the side of the chair Jade is being forcibly fancied up in and retreats a safe distance from the cloud of product in the air. “Oh come on not you too!” Jade screams in mock pain as eyeliner is drawn over her face. “I don’t like makeup and -ack- Riley and I aren’t, like, official yet or anything so -” the spraying stops. Jade looks around and sees the very confused faces of the two adults. Joseph’s is far more confused that her mother’s, who is more disappointed than anything.

“Really? You guys haven't officially asked each other out yet?” Joseph was the first to speak, and it was filled with incredulous emotion. The fact that he was out and about as he was in the first place is a miracle, as his doctor had prescribed him several more days of bedrest(“I'm always sitting down, that counts, right?”). His voice has improved, and is sounding much like his old one.  It was because of this that Jade was the most taken back by his comment. “Why do you care so much? Isn’t shipping your students against the law or something?” Joseph gave a look of fake shock. “How could you! And no, it isn’t.” Jade’s mom speaks to her next, “Why haven’t you asked her yet, sweetheart?” Jade blushed and looked away from her mom, who began to apply more of the makeup she was carrying. “I dunno..just kind of hasn’t come up. There has been a bit that’s been going on.” Joseph coughed. “Oops.” Jade shot him a dirty look and he looked away, pulling at his collar in a joking fashion. “I’ll..I’ll ask her tonight. She said she’d meet me there anyways.” Her mom beamed when she heard this. “You know Jade, not too long ago you were a hot headed troublemaker who always got into the trouble,” Joseph interrupted with a “still is” and suffered a hit from Mrs.Laurens, “but this Riley girl has really done a lot of good for you. The least you can do is properly ask her out.”

Jade took a deep breath, “Yeah, you're right mom. That reminds me, “ she looks towards the clock on her mom’s oven. “It's almost time for me to go. Who’s gonna take me to the school.”

Joseph rolls over to the door, “I will. My car is outside.” Jade begins to get up, grabbing her bags, before stopping. “Wait a second.” Joseph gives great bellowing laughs, holding onto his wheelchair for support. Jade gives a harumph, obviously not happy to be the butt of the joke.

“Oh Jade, don't be like that,” her mom said, stifling a laugh herself,”he will actually be taking you there though.”

Jade looked at her mom, her turn to give an incredulous look. “How?” Joseph smacked his wheelchair. “We’re gonna take the train. Remember, the school has a lien that goes straight to it.”

Joseph opens the door and rolls out, looking back. “Coming?” Jade could not believe this was happening.

A few dozen minutes and a train ride later where everyone looked at Joseph more than her(which brought a great deal of relief, but a twinge of jealousy too) they arrived at the school station. Joseph got off, gave the finger to multiple people who asked about his accident, and Jade soon followed. “The nerve of some people,” she heard him mutter under his breath. He turned to Jade. “Now, go over what we talked about on the train.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Walk up to her, hand on her shoulder, ask her in my ‘manliest voice’ to go out with me. I just don’t think-” Joseph shhsh her. “Don’t think. It only makes things worse.” She gives a laugh, a nervous one, but still a laugh. A small smile appears on her face. “Thank you, Mr.Ellington.” She leans in and gives him a hug. “Now,” Joseph says after the hug is done, “I have to go to the teachers area to get ready for my round of chaperoning. I’ll see you in a bit. After the dance, wait for me here. I don’t want you walking the streets without me.” “I’ve done it tons of times what-” “Just wait for me. You’re a pretty teenage girl walking alone in a shit part of town. Different creatures come out at night.” She rolls her eyes. “Ok, whatever dad.” Joseph smiles and rolls off. “Have a good dance!”

A few seconds after he enters an elevator to take him to the school, Jade realizes what she said.Dad? She would have to think more about that later..some conflicting feelings have been affecting her recently. Thankfully, a good distraction just came off the next train.

“Well, hell-o beautiful.” Jade turned to see Riley step off in a spiff tuxedo, one that hugged her body. It's just about made Jade faint then and there. “Hh-hey! You ready?” Jade nervously stammered out. Riley walked up, took Jade’s hand, and kissed it like a prince. “With you? Always.” Jade’s plans went out the window.

4A

title: 4A summary: Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. aka Dan’s a flustered mess when he finally meets his soulmate. words: 1.8k genre: fluff, soulmates au rating: g

Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. The size, combined with the messy handwriting, caused Phil to spend hours deciphering what the first words his soulmate will say to him actually were. On his sixteenth birthday, Phil couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed that he was still clueless as to how his first interaction would go.

Since then, hundreds of hours in classes, work, and procrastination have been spent trying to make out the words. Over half a decade later, he’s pretty sure he’s correctly identified enough words to get the gist of what it says. Now it’s just a matter of waiting.

Phil sat on sofa in his brother’s lounge, idly flipping through a magazine, while he waited for his brother and his girlfriend to finally be ready to leave. A light knock at the door brought him out of his daze.

“Phil,” he heard Cornelia call from the bedroom, “can you grab the door? We’re expecting a package!”

With a sigh, Phil tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and walked to the door. His mum’s birthday present teetered slightly as the magazine collided with it. When he opened the door, he found a slightly smaller boy with a similar fringe holding a box and standing awkwardly in the hallway. Phil opened his mouth to ask where he should sign, but was cut off before he could say anything.

“Hi, I just moved in and this got delivered to me and the grouchy woman down the hall said to bring it to this apartment.” As the boy talked, Phil could slowly feel a smirk growing on his face. The boy, however, wasn’t quite making eye contact and continued rambling. “Are you Cornelia? Obviously you’re not. Are you her husband? Boyfriend? Sorry – just – here.” The boy shoved the package into Phil’s arms before turning around to retreat back towards what Phil assumed was his own apartment.

“So, do you always talk this much?” He called out.

The boy stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face Phil. The awkward expression was replaced by a cheeky grin accompanied by an adorably deep dimple.

“Only when I’m caught off guard by incredibly hot guys.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to blush. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Phil, Cornelia’s quasi brother-in-law.”

“Hi,” the boy smiled. “I’m Dan, Cornelia’s new neighbor.”

“I’ve been waiting about six years for that package, you know.”

Dan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. Phil caught a glimpse of his own sloppy scrawl on Dan’s left forearm.

“Man, I knew the Royal Mail was shit, but I think that might be a new low. To be fair, I’ve only had it about ten minutes.” Dan chuckled quietly and Phil knew immediately that he would have no problem falling in love with that laugh.

Cornelia appeared behind Phil, carrying both her and Martin’s and Phil’s presents in her hands.

“Did you get the package, Phil?” Cornelia’s eyes drifted to Dan, who was still leaning in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” she said to Dan.

“Hello, I’m Dan.” Like a perfect gentleman, Dan extended his hand to shake Cornelia’s. “Your package got delivered to my place by accident.”

“Thanks for bringing it by! Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah, I just moved into apartment 4A last week.”

“Lovely to meet you. We’d love to have you over for tea sometime soon.” Cornelia turned to Phil. “Martin just called the cab and said he’d meet us downstairs.” She grabbed the package from Phil’s hands and tossed it onto the couch.

Phil didn’t break eye contact with Dan. “Sorry, it’s my mum’s birthday or else I’d…”

Dan straightened up. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in my apartment—4A—all weekend, ya know, unpacking and stuff in 4A. So yeah, uh, whenever. 4A.”

A wide smile spread across Phil’s face and his tongue slightly poked out. He laughed quietly at Dan’s lack of subtlety. “Sorry, what was that? I think I missed it. Did you say 5C?”

“Shut up you spork. I’m just gonna…” Dan took a few steps backwards and gave Phil a small two-fingered salute with his left hand. This time, Phil got a better look at the words on Dan’s forearm: So, do you always talk this much? His stomach involuntarily did a flippy-over-thing at the sight. Dan turned around and scampered into his apartment, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Cornelia shot Phil a confused look, but grasped his wrist and pulled him towards the stairs without question. “Come on, let’s go before we miss the cab.”

Phil remained silent as they trudged down the four flights of stairs to the lobby. In the back of his mind, he heard Martin yell at them to wait up. Together, the three of them waited in the crisp November air; while they stood on the pavement, Cornelia huddled into Martin for body warmth.

The cab came and Phil climbed into the backseat, as if on autopilot. His thoughts drifted to caramel eyes and a long brunette fringe. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Dan’s chuckle. He replayed their short interaction in his head over and over again on the way to the restaurant.

“Phil. PHIL. PHIL.” Martin’s fingers snapping loudly in his face pulled him out of his daydreams. “I said we’re here. Get out of the cab.”

“Oh. Oops.” Flustered, Phil opened the door and gracelessly clambered out, holding the door opened for his brother.

Dinner passed by in a blur. Several times, his mother asked him why he was particularly aloof tonight, but Phil brushed it off each time. Tonight was his mother’s special night and he didn’t want to overshadow her birthday celebrations. After the third time his mum expressed concern, Phil tried his best to push his encounter with his soulmate to the back of his head and engage more.

It wasn’t until he was standing outside the restaurant waiting with Martin and Cornelia for their cab again that he let his thoughts drift back to Dan.

“Cornelia?” Phil interrupted her conversation with Martin.

“Hmm?”

“What was in the box? From earlier?”

Cornelia smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m not telling you.”

Phil cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“It’s your Christmas present, silly.”

Without warning, Phil flung himself at Cornelia, embracing her in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Cornelia patted Phil’s back as best as she could, given that her arms were pinned to her side by Phil’s smothering hug. “I’ve gotten you a present every year for four years. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, you never need to get me one again because you’re never going to top this.” Phil released her, stepping back.

“Okay, nerd, you haven’t even opened it yet.”

“No—I—uh…” His cheeks reddened. “Dan.”

Martin, who missed the entire interaction earlier, muttered, “Who the bloody hell is Dan?”

However, Cornelia’s eyes widened. Her eyes traveled down Phil’s right arm. “Was that…?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

This time, it was Cornelia who smothered Phil. “Oh my god. I’m so happy for you.” She stepped back, reaching up to squeeze Phil’s cheeks between her hands. “Does this mean you’ll stop spending every moment you can at our apartment?”

Phil smiled so wide it hurt. “Yeah, but I can’t promise you’ll see any less of me. He is your neighbor, after all.”

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Martin interjected.

“My package got delivered across the hall by accident and the new neighbor brought it over.” Cornelia roughly grabbed Phil’s arm and shoved it towards Martin’s face.

“Okay…?”

Cornelia rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so dense. Phil’s soulmate brought the package over.

A look of realization spread across Martin’s face. “Oh… Oh! Congratulations!” Phil smiled, suddenly eager to get back to the apartment. He was secretly hoping to bail on the Great British Bake Off marathon they had planned.

The ride back seemed to take an eternity. When they finally arrived at the apartment, Phil awkwardly loitered by the door while Martin and Cornelia hung their coats and set down their things.

“I’m sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I maybe go across the hall instead of watching the Bakeoff? See if Dan’s awake still?”

“Take the spares so you don’t wake us up when you come back.” Phil barely caught the keys Cornelia tossed at him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Martin smirked.

“It’s not like that—I’m not going to… that. I just want to meet him. Properly.”

Cornelia shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him in the direction of Dan’s apartment. “Get out of here. Have fun.”

As he stood in front of 4A, Phil took a steadying breath to try to calm his nerves. Before he could chicken out, he knocked lightly on Dan’s door. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly 23:00. He hoped Dan wasn’t an early sleeper.

Much to his relief, the door opened barely ten seconds after he knocked. Dan had changed into black joggers paired with a black tshirt and had clearly showered since Phil saw him earlier. Phil’s eyes were immediately drawn to Dan’s hair, which was a wet, curly mop on top of his head. Self-consciously, Dan fiddled with the curls, trying to tame them into submission.

“You have curly hair,” Phil murmured, stunned.

Dan flushed. “I know. I look like a fucking hobbit.”

Phil desperately wanted to reach out and run his hands through Dan’s hair, but they’d only just met and he didn’t want to freak Dan out. Instead, he said, “the cutest hobbit I’ve ever seen.”

The redness of Dan’s cheeks extended to his ears, but he smiled shyly and Phil could see a hint of his deep dimple. “Do you want to come in?”

“I’d like nothing more.”

As Phil entered the apartment, he scanned the lounge. It was obvious that Dan was still moving in, but the room was littered with knickknacks. A large Muse poster hung on the opposite wall. A charizard plushie sat haphazardly on the sofa. A boxed set of the Studio Ghibli movies balanced precariously atop the television. Mario Kart was paused on the screen.

No, Phil thought, I won’t have any trouble at all falling in love with this boy.

Congrats on the followers you really deserve so much love!!! For fics, I mean I'm a sucker for Royai angst so maybe some Riza helping Roy after he's blinded either before Marcoh can heal him or alternatively Marcoh has to use the rest of the stone healing Havoc. Honestly just hit me with that love and angst!

“I want love and angst”

You are following the right fucking blog, my friend. And uh, thank you? You’re so nice?

I got carried away with this request. Oops. I hope it gives you the feels you seek.

Beginning Yesterday

The people blurred together liked frayed bits of string twining with cloth. The noises they made, each and every person and every unique decibel emitting from the bustle around them, was nothing more than a buzz she could not discern. They faded…

She started forward, her body jerking, as her eyes snapped back open. Stay awake, Riza, she scolded herself. She allowed her eyes to scan the chaos, across the scape of tents and running uniforms, to anchor on the image of him beside her. His face was hardened to stone, but his eyes flicked around a few times before they looked downwards, his eyes almost appearing closed, before they fully opened again and he was staring straight ahead once more. He doesn’t know if he should close them or not…

Against her will, her own shut close as she was rippled with a wave of emotion. She hungered for that trench of adrenaline that held the uncanny ability to numb her of anything other than survival. Now, the gravity of their fate…of his…began to splinter her insides as the trench wore away. The feeling settled into a puddle in her gut and between that and her drained veins, she felt uncomfortably nauseous.

“The sun’s out, isn’t it?”

Her eyes cracked open at the sound of his voice. Rising to the sky, she studied the hue of it and observed the willowy wisps of the white clouds.

“Yes,” she answered him softly.

“I feel it.”

She hadn’t before, but suddenly at his observation, she did then too. The warmth of it soaked into her skin.

“Is it early?” he asked. “Have we been up all night?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know, sir,” she confessed. “I’m unsure myself. I’m unsure of when this day began, if it was during the day or not.”

She attempted to think back on it, to recall when they had gone down there…

She did not know and she abandoned the attempt of recollection only moments after seeking it. It was too exhausting, and she found she didn’t care enough to fight for it.

Looking in the reflection, she imagined to be staring at a poster for a theatre play over Frankenstein’s Monster. Stitches lined the front border of her neck like a rope. They had to reopen the deeper sections of her wound in order to properly disinfect it, having fears of the blade that had sliced her skin and the filth of the ground she once lay limp atop.

The skin now was a savage red, swollen and voracious and hideous. The scarring, they needn’t have said, would be substantial.

In her youth, her peers would share in a child’s myth about a young girl who went to school with the rest of her town, but was known for the ruby red ribbon that she kept tied round her neck. It was simple, and incredibly endearing. The ribbon was as identifying to the little girl as the color of her eyes or even her own name.

One of the town’s children, playing innocently, gave the little ruby red ribbon a tug and it whispered off the girl’s body like a secret. The head that sat atop the girl’s shoulders tumbled suddenly down and crashed against her shoulder, kept attached to her flesh by only a tag of skin. It was a silly child’s tale that the young would mutter to each other in an attempt to scare.

Riza’s eyes were cemented to the reflection’s neck, and she thought perhaps she ought to be wearing a ruby red ribbon.

She noticed that she’d been staring for quite some time and she forced herself to look away, reminding the muscles in her legs how to move as she programmed herself to walk out of the corridor’s bathroom.

Her palm softly pushed against the door as she opened it and stepped inside.

“I’ll ask one of the nurses tomorrow for some tea,” she said as she took her first step in. From the stream of moonlight through the window, she saw his chin lift at the sound of her voice, a miniscule movement that showed he heard who was speaking. She wanted him to know who had entered the room without her directly announcing it was she.

“I don’t know if you should be walking around,” he murmured. She sighed quietly, too quiet for him to hear, as she lowered herself down on her bed. The dim beams of the night sky played on the wall.

“They filled me with enough blood to keep me upright, Colonel, I assure you.”

“You haven’t slept.”

Exhaustion had been rampant, but rest alluded the two of them like shadows. Even after receiving aid, being admitted to a hospital and treated for their wounds, after the sun had long since set, they could not sleep.

“I’m awake enough.”

He did not continue his case. He’d hardly moved, so still she barely saw his chest rising with breath since they’d been settled in their room. Sitting upright, a thin layer of sheets pulled up over his lap, he sat throughout the day and now throughout the middle of the night and, like she, was unable to dismiss the unending rush of awareness.

Her ears perked at the puff of air pushed out of his nostrils in something that sounded like a weak laugh. She blinked a few times and looked over at him, her brow drawn together, as she looked at his half smiling face.

“Colonel?” she asked with concern.

He shook his head and lifted his chin upwards, and if he were still a seeing man, he would be looking at the ceiling. He gave a little self deprecating shrug.

“I need the bathroom,” he laughed weakly. The stoicism in his face finally cracked, for the first time in what seemed to be days, it cracked, and she saw him finally falter. His smile, so devoid of humor it burned her, grew as his head continued to shake in a kind of tortured disbelief, and she rose to her feet, closing the distance between their beds, summoning any remaining strength she had left to ignore the swelling hurricane of hurt inside her bones. She allowed her foot to scrape against the tile so he knew she was approaching before her hand rested under his elbow, and he only barely tensed at the contact.

“Fortunately, I’ve just been there,” she said gently. “So I know where it is.”

His face twisted and he dropped his head into his hand, his shoulders rising as his body flexed together. She felt the back of her throat burn, but she swallowed it down to disallow the sensation to affect the tone of her voice. They both were beginning to understand the gravity of his condition.

“Come on, Colonel.”

She pushed her hand into his elbow, a nudge, and his hand dropped away from his face. The sheets rustled as his legs swung over the bed and he stood himself up. She scanned his face, looking over him, watching his eyes bear blankly into the wall in front of them. The man she’d known for so long, longer than anyone she’d ever known, longer than she’d known her own father, was living in a void without color, without light, and she could not help him.

A rise of panic prodded at her mind, a question of if he would ever see again, of how on Earth will he adjust to this, how will she adjust to this, but she forced it down quicker than it made itself apparent to her. One thing mattered, one thing demanded her attention, and it was guiding him down the hall.

She stuck out a foot, putting it gently in front of her, so he’d feel the summon of her exit. He reciprocated the step and took another, even before she, and she had to be reminded of her admiration for him. He hadn’t given up, of course he hadn’t.

It didn’t mean, however, that he embraced the adjustment, and it showed in his struggle to keep his expression passive.

She pushed lightly against his arm, her hand now beneath his forearm and her other on the back of his tricep, to steer them from the edge of her bed as they continued their journey across the room.

Her eyes watched his feet as they moved, studying the floor for missed objects, and the dim light of the hallway peaked through the crack of the door they had suddenly come upon and she quickly shot her head up while simultaneously releasing his forearm to instead press quickly against his chest. He stopped immediately.

Severely scolding herself, hoarding the tension of the mental image of him crashing into the door, feeling his chest beneath her palm as though it were a hex, she silently twisted the knob of the door and pulled it open.

“Forget that we have to go through doors to exit a room?” he joked softly. He was donning half a smirk, and she knew he was attempting to save her from her own loathing.

“I don’t know what you expect of me, Colonel,” she tried to match his tone, reciprocating his quiet, teasing demeanor. “I can shoot guns, I can’t offer any other talents.”

“Well I don’t know why I’m keeping you around, then.”

They’d stepped into the hall, and she felt a distilled rush of relief at being back in the light so she could better protect him. The relief leaked away when she considered that he didn’t have the luxury of sharing in it.

The hallway was empty. She heard a nurse truffle papers distantly. Without incident, they stepped gradually to the bathroom, and she led them inside.

“Toilet’s right in front of you,” she said once the door shut behind them. “I’ll be outside.”

“Don’t you want to help me out with this, too?” he smiled. Smiling sadly back at him, she shook her head, almost doleful that he’d been jesting with her so much. He wasn’t projecting his emotions; he was hiding from them.

“I’d rather host a dinner party, sir,” she said. A corner of his mouth turned up, and she felt her sad smile turn a little more genuine. The door closed behind her as she stepped into the hall.

She released a heavy sigh, strangely feeling as though she hadn’t been allowed to breath until then, and her back hit the wall opposite the bathroom. Off instinct, she lifted her chin as she let her vulnerability escape her, but the lift of her head stretched the seam in her neck and she had to stop herself from gasping as her head fell back down. A hand lifted to ghost across the wound…

If there was any silver lining to the colonel’s predicament, it was her gratefulness that he wouldn’t have to know how frightening she appeared.

A minute passed before she heard the door creaking open and she whipped her head to see him slip into the hall. She started forward and grabbed his arm the way she had before.

“It’s fine,” he brushed off. “I can find my way out of a room the size of a box.”

“I know, but…”

“It’s fine, Lieutenant.”

She shut her mouth and looked at him a moment longer before starting them forward down the hall. She drove away the thought of him, hands flat against the interior of the bathroom, palming and shuffling his way to the door just to prove that he could.

“I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh,” he said, his voice low enough to crackle.

“It didn’t.”

They glided down the hall with ease, walking at a pace they might otherwise match in different circumstances.

“You hate this, don’t you?”

Her eyebrows curled together and she looked up at him, somewhat hurt and mildly shocked by the question.

“What? Hate what?”

“Hate that you can’t protect me from this.”

Her heart stopped and she had to force herself not to falter in her steps. Her throat tightened and she looked away, slowing their rate as they came upon their door. That wasn’t what she thought he had meant.

Yet the statement struck a chord with her, a chord covered in a dust she didn’t wish to brush away because she feared it’s reflection. A surprising burn ghosted across the back of her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered as she pushed open the door. Placing a hand over on the shoulder furthest from her, she guided him through the door frame. “Yes, I do hate it.”

There was a pounding against the wall of her chest, and she realized it was her heart rate as she was smothered in the memory of how this had happened.

Katanas stuck into the palms of his hands like pins in a cushion, his arms cemented into floor, a forced alchemic reaction as blue pulses of electricity crackled throughout the air pockets around them, and a horror she had never felt before mauling her as she watched him be stolen away…

She shook her head quickly, banishing the memory from continuing. Never, not even in Laboratory Five, had she felt such absolute, uncontrollable terror. In the laboratory, she’d been devastated, she’d been told he was dead, but then? Hardly less than a day ago?

It was like watching him be tortured and killed before her very eyes while she did nothing, could do nothing, and only scream for him so loudly that still her throat scratched even though the time had long passed.

The intensity of her screams, the monsoon of what little blood that had been inside her pumping with an indiscernible heart rate, had crashed into her consciousness after he’d disappeared and the two people beside her, she couldn’t even recall who, had to catch her by her shoulders as she’d fallen to her knees.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as she led them to his bed. She guided his hand to the bottom frame so he’d understand why they’d stopped. His hand slipped out of hers as he lowered himself onto the mattress.

She decided that she didn’t possess the want to lie to him.

“What happened,” she said in answer. She took a few paces back and sat on her own bed, the springs creaking.

He hummed quietly in his throat in response.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And what’s your prognosis?”

Her teeth showed in a smile, and although he wouldn’t see it, it was apparent in her voice.

“Prognosis, Colonel? My prognosis is I am…I am…astonished,” she laughed on the word, “that the two of us are even alive. That anybody is still alive. That we’re listening to the sounds of peace out the window as if it were another night, that I’m supposed to recognize safety, that I’m supposed to trust safety at its word, because frankly I can’t get used to the idea that I don’t need to be looking over my shoulder at every moment.”

She didn’t mean for the words to tumble out of her, but honesty seemed to be her only source of meditation and it was bursting at the borders of her mind. In any other circumstance, she would have never unveiled this much honestly, particularly when it alluded to her own wellbeing. She rarely shouldered her troubles on him. She glanced over at him, at his silence as he mulled over her truth.

His ear was turned to her, but not his face. Not his eyes.

Her breath hitched in her chest and her eyes turned wet when she came to her worst realization, the epiphany lacerating her body, colliding with her like she’d been hit with a train, as she felt tears threaten the corners of her eyes before falling silently down her cheeks.

She would never be able to look into his eyes again, because he would never look into hers.

The thought crushed her more than any other thought she’d had that night.

“You know, I went into it expecting to die,” he admitted after some time. “When we went down into the tunnels, I didn’t anticipate returning.”

She felt another hot tear fall as she whipped her head to look at him, astonished.

“What?”

“I was obtuse, unseeing due to my hatred. And I…”

It took him several long moments before continuing.

“And realistically, by default and statistic, I knew that at a bare minimum, one of our side wasn’t going to make it through the day. And I was determined that if anyone, it would be me.”

A confusing flare of anger tornadoed inside her, anger that he went into the battle with such a mindset, anger that he ordered her to remain alive but he himself wouldn’t follow such directions. Did he care for his life so little?

“But then, when you were…” he started.

He let the words float away.

“I thought that I was wrong,” he said. “I thought, it’s not me who’s not going to come home today. It’s you. It’s my lieutenant. And I hated myself so much for that, because the idea of losing you was…debilitating. I was so flippant, so uncareful…so I understand, what you said before. The gnawing feeling that we can’t sink into comfort, and that danger is still waiting for us in the shadows…I can’t escape it either.”

Another wave of emotion rose up her throat, but she forced down the tears. They were unnecessary, and they were a burden on what the two of them needed to do; leave this all behind them.

“Except,” he countered. “I have you to see for me. I can attempt to relinquish the hold on those fears, because I know you’re right here, always, and you’re watching my back.”

His head bowed.

“I am sorry that you have to carry for the two of us.”

“Don’t be absurd, Colonel. This has always been my job, and my purpose. If I didn’t have you to look out for, I would be nobody. Just a scared little girl petrified of her own skin.”

“You should have died.” His voice was nothing more than a steady murmur. “You should have.”

Her fingernails curled into her palm. She looked down to the hands in his lap, bandaged over the impales of Bradley’s sword.

“If that girl wasn’t there…this girl who was never part of the plan…I’d be alone in this room right now.”

“I don’t know if things happen for a reason, Colonel…but she was there, for whatever reason. And now I’m in better shape than you. Please…don’t dwell on that. I know it’s impossible to eradicate the events we went through from your mind, but that piece…forget it completely.”

He sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the breath, but he said nothing more of it.

“Tired, yet?” he finally asked. He was silhouetted against the window, dark enough that she couldn’t read his expression.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Are you in any pain?”

The tips of her fingers found place against her neck again, feeling the raise of the stitches in her skin. She slid her thumb across the line, reading it like a brailled book, comprehending the words forever sewn into flesh.

“Don’t lie to me, either, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “Tell me.”

“Why do you want to burden yourself with things you don’t want to know?” The volume of her voice, a battle of who could be softer, was won by her.

“I do want to know.”

“Yes.”

A beat of hesitation precipitated his response.

“…Yes?”

“Yes, I am in pain,” she clarified. “It does hurt. But it wouldn’t feel right if it didn’t. It keeps me…focused. I wouldn’t wish to feel nothing.”

“You’re impossible,” he chuckled dismally. “I sometimes wish you weren’t.”

“You’re in pain, too, don’t forget.”

Her eyes flicked down at the movement of his hands, how he softly clenched his fists experimentally after she spoke.

“I suppose that’s true. I do forget.”

“Like I said; it wouldn’t feel right otherwise. You know the same.”

“Even though this is over…what we have to accomplish, this is only the beginning. I know you know that.”

“Yes…” she watched him carefully, unsure of his intentions.

“So…I’ll need you.”

She swallowed hard, continuing to study him. It was curious how she continued to nod, even though he wouldn’t know it. It was strange to hate nodding when she never had before.

“I’ll be here,” she said.

"Yes, but we didn’t anticipate…this.”

The roaming light of a car on the road outside slid across the room before disappearing. She heard its engine rumble past them.

“I need you to consider what that means,” he continued. “You won’t just be watching my back, you’ll be guiding it. I don’t trust anybody else…and not only that, but I can’t be…extended by anyone else. You are an extension of me, with you I’m not as blind as I would be otherwise. With you I can walk.”

The emotions she’d felt before, fear and anger and desolation, crumbled away like plaster. What he said, of course, went without needing to be said. Being his eyes became her duty the moment she saw the blankness in them. She’d already nested, already embraced, the purpose.

“You’ll run.”

His head turned towards her, and in the change of his position she saw his eyebrows draw together. The moonlight traced his profile.

“I’ve just followed you through hell, Colonel, why would I leave now? I’ll be there, throughout time, and you’ll run.”

His head shifted to the side, a tilt likely tugged by emotion, and she heard a slow and heavy inhale go through his nose. He gave one single nod and let a few moments pass between them.

“To the top, then,” he concluded.

4A

title: 4A summary: Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. aka Dan's a flustered mess when he finally meets his soulmate. words: 1800 genre: fluff, soulmates au

Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. The size, combined with the messy handwriting, caused Phil to spend hours deciphering what the first words his soulmate will say to him actually were. On his sixteenth birthday, Phil couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed that he was still clueless as to how his first interaction would go.

Since then, hundreds of hours in classes, work, and procrastination have been spent trying to make out the words. Over half a decade later, he’s pretty sure he’s correctly identified enough words to get the gist of what it says. Now it’s just a matter of waiting.

***

Phil sat on sofa in his brother’s lounge, idly flipping through a magazine, while he waited for his brother and his girlfriend to finally be ready to leave. A light knock at the door brought him out of his daze.

“Phil,” he heard Cornelia call from the bedroom, “can you grab the door? We’re expecting a package!”

With a sigh, Phil tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and walked to the door. His mum’s birthday present teetered slightly as the magazine collided with it. When he opened the door, he found a slightly smaller boy with a similar fringe holding a box and standing awkwardly in the hallway. Phil opened his mouth to ask where he should sign, but was cut off before he could say anything.

“Hi, I just moved in and this got delivered to me and the grouchy woman down the hall said to bring it to this apartment.” As the boy talked, Phil could slowly feel a smirk growing on his face. The boy, however, wasn’t quite making eye contact and continued rambling. “Are you Cornelia? Obviously you’re not. Are you her husband? Boyfriend? Sorry – just – here.” The boy shoved the package into Phil’s arms before turning around to retreat back towards what Phil assumed was his own apartment.

“So, do you always talk this much?” He called out.

The boy stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face Phil. The awkward expression was replaced by a cheeky grin accompanied by an adorably deep dimple.

“Only when I’m caught off guard by incredibly hot guys.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to blush. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Phil, Cornelia’s quasi brother-in-law.”

“Hi,” the boy smiled. “I’m Dan, Cornelia’s new neighbor.”

“I’ve been waiting about six years for that package, you know.”

Dan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. Phil caught a glimpse of his own sloppy scrawl on Dan’s left forearm.

“Man, I knew the Royal Mail was shit, but I think that might be a new low. To be fair, I’ve only had it about ten minutes.” Dan chuckled quietly and Phil knew immediately that he would have no problem falling in love with that laugh.

Cornelia appeared behind Phil, carrying both her and Martin’s and Phil’s presents in her hands.

“Did you get the package, Phil?” Cornelia’s eyes drifted to Dan, who was still leaning in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” she said to Dan.

“Hello, I’m Dan.” Like a perfect gentleman, Dan extended his hand to shake Cornelia’s. “Your package got delivered to my place by accident.”

“Thanks for bringing it by! Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah, I just moved into apartment 4A last week.”

“Lovely to meet you. We’d love to have you over for tea sometime soon.” Cornelia turned to Phil. “Martin just called the cab and said he’d meet us downstairs.” She grabbed the package from Phil’s hands and tossed it onto the couch.

Phil didn’t break eye contact with Dan. “Sorry, it’s my mum’s birthday or else I’d…”

Dan straightened up. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in my apartment—4A—all weekend, ya know, unpacking and stuff in 4A. So yeah, uh, whenever. 4A.”

A wide smile spread across Phil’s face and his tongue slightly poked out. He laughed quietly at Dan’s lack of subtlety. “Sorry, what was that? I think I missed it. Did you say 5C?”

“Shut up you spork. I’m just gonna…” Dan took a few steps backwards and gave Phil a small two-fingered salute with his left hand. This time, Phil got a better look at the words on Dan’s forearm: So, do you always talk this much? His stomach involuntarily did a flippy-over-thing at the sight. Dan turned around and scampered into his apartment, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Cornelia shot Phil a confused look, but grasped his wrist and pulled him towards the stairs without question. “Come on, let’s go before we miss the cab.”

Phil remained silent as they trudged down the four flights of stairs to the lobby. In the back of his mind, he heard Martin yell at them to wait up. Together, the three of them waited in the crisp November air; while they stood on the pavement, Cornelia huddled into Martin for body warmth.

The cab came and Phil climbed into the backseat, as if on autopilot. His thoughts drifted to caramel eyes and a long brunette fringe. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Dan’s chuckle. He replayed their short interaction in his head over and over again on the way to the restaurant.

“Phil. PHIL. PHIL.” Martin’s fingers snapping loudly in his face pulled him out of his daydreams. “I said we’re here. Get out of the cab.”

“Oh. Oops.” Flustered, Phil opened the door and gracelessly clambered out, holding the door opened for his brother.

Dinner passed by in a blur. Several times, his mother asked him why he was particularly aloof tonight, but Phil brushed it off each time. Tonight was his mother’s special night and he didn’t want to overshadow her birthday celebrations. After the third time his mum expressed concern, Phil tried his best to push his encounter with his soulmate to the back of his head and engage more.

It wasn’t until he was standing outside the restaurant waiting with Martin and Cornelia for their cab again that he let his thoughts drift back to Dan.

“Cornelia?” Phil interrupted her conversation with Martin.

“Hmm?”

“What was in the box? From earlier?”

Cornelia smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m not telling you.”

Phil cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“It’s your Christmas present, silly.”

Without warning, Phil flung himself at Cornelia, embracing her in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Cornelia patted Phil’s back as best as she could, given that her arms were pinned to her side by Phil’s smothering hug. “I’ve gotten you a present every year for four years. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, you never need to get me one again because you’re never going to top this.” Phil released her, stepping back.

“Okay, nerd, you haven’t even opened it yet.”

“No—I—uh…” His cheeks reddened. “Dan.”

Martin, who missed the entire interaction earlier, muttered, “Who the bloody hell is Dan?”

However, Cornelia’s eyes widened. Her eyes traveled down Phil’s right arm. “Was that…?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

This time, it was Cornelia who smothered Phil. “Oh my god. I’m so happy for you.” She stepped back, reaching up to squeeze Phil’s cheeks between her hands. “Does this mean you’ll stop spending every moment you can at our apartment?”

Phil smiled so wide it hurt. “Yeah, but I can’t promise you’ll see any less of me. He is your neighbor, after all.”

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Martin interjected.

“My package got delivered across the hall by accident and the new neighbor brought it over.” Cornelia roughly grabbed Phil’s arm and shoved it towards Martin’s face.

“Okay…?”

Cornelia rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so dense. Phil’s soulmate brought the package over.

A look of realization spread across Martin’s face. “Oh… Oh! Congratulations!” Phil smiled, suddenly eager to get back to the apartment. He was secretly hoping to bail on the Great British Bake Off marathon they had planned.

The ride back seemed to take an eternity. When they finally arrived at the apartment, Phil awkwardly loitered by the door while Martin and Cornelia hung their coats and set down their things.

“I’m sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I maybe go across the hall instead of watching the Bakeoff? See if Dan’s awake still?”

“Take the spares so you don’t wake us up when you come back.” Phil barely caught the keys Cornelia tossed at him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Martin smirked.

“It’s not like that—I’m not going to… that. I just want to meet him. Properly.”

Cornelia shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him in the direction of Dan’s apartment. “Get out of here. Have fun.”

As he stood in front of 4A, Phil took a steadying breath to try to calm his nerves. Before he could chicken out, he knocked lightly on Dan’s door. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly 23:00. He hoped Dan wasn’t an early sleeper.

Much to his relief, the door opened barely ten seconds after he knocked. Dan had changed into black joggers paired with a black tshirt and had clearly showered since Phil saw him earlier. Phil’s eyes were immediately drawn to Dan’s hair, which was a wet, curly mop on top of his head. Self-consciously, Dan fiddled with the curls, trying to tame them into submission.

“You have curly hair,” Phil murmured, stunned.

Dan flushed. “I know. I look like a fucking hobbit.”

Phil desperately wanted to reach out and run his hands through Dan’s hair, but they’d only just met and he didn’t want to freak Dan out. Instead, he said, “the cutest hobbit I’ve ever seen.”

The redness of Dan’s cheeks extended to his ears, but he smiled shyly and Phil could see a hint of his deep dimple. “Do you want to come in?”

“I’d like nothing more.”

As Phil entered the apartment, he scanned the lounge. It was obvious that Dan was still moving in, but the room was littered with knickknacks. A large Muse poster hung on the opposite wall. A charizard plushie sat haphazardly on the sofa. A boxed set of the Studio Ghibli movies balanced precariously atop the television. Mario Kart was paused on the screen.

No, Phil thought, I won’t have any trouble at all falling in love with this boy.

A Silent Whisper (Jadore, past Jivy) - Eevee

This is the sequel to Of the Night, and it will make NO SENSE if you haven’t read that. This is Ivy’s side of the story, this is what happened between her death and Adore’s turning.

Trigger warnings: violence, death, blood, attempted suicide, and depression. This ain’t a happy time.

But if you want to know the story of a ghost who tried to forgive the woman who killed her, here we are. Love, Eevee

“Don’t fret, Ivy. You’ll be okay.” That was the last thing Ivy heard, before she started screaming. Ginny snarled something else then clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her, but her voice had already started to fade. She tried to grab Ginny’s hand but she couldn’t even lift her arm. She could swear she heard someone yell, “Virginia!” Then, her whole world went black. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy woke with no pain, she was floating. She opened her eyes, and her heart sank. She was floating over Ginny’s bed, and above her own body. Ginny’s face was stained with blood- her blood. Her body was crumpled and covered in wounds, and she realized Ginny had lost control. “Oh, Ginny…” Ivy sighed. Ginny looked down at Ivy and started to realize something was wrong. “Ivy?” The ginger whimpered, lightly shaking the blonde. The girl didn’t respond. “Ivy?!” Ginny squeaked, realizing what she had done. Ivy wished she could fix it, but she was a ghost. Ginny wept for hours, and Ivy processed what had happened. She was dead, Ginny killed her. But she wasn’t mad. “Oh Ginny, I wish this hadn’t happened this way.” Ivy murmured, watching the vampire cradle her body. “Ivy, no!” Ginny wailed, sobbing. “I’m sorry! I’m so stupid!” The vampire took Ivy’s body to the park. “Our first date, oh Ginny.” Ivy sighed, watching the ginger dig a hole. The vampire buried Ivy’s body, weeping. “I’m sorry Ivy. Here, you can always be under the stars. You deserved to be one, and…” Ginny broke down again. Ivy faded away for awhile. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy returned to Ginny’s home, it felt different. It was almost sunrise, and Ginny was sitting at her window. “Just rise already!” She whined, spreading her arms to face the sun. Ivy panicked. “No, Ginny!” She tried to grab the curtains and close them, and ended up knocking them onto Virginia. “I can’t even die properly!” Ginny wailed, huddling up under the fabric. “I mess everything up. I’m a jinx!” ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy faded in and out a lot. She tried to keep an eye on Ginny, her lover was still suicidal. She hadn’t fed in weeks. Ivy watched as Virginia eventually left her home, and found someone to feed on. She barely fed at all before turning the woman away, dazed but fine. Ginny was careless, she would walk past mirrors when she was in public and she didn’t cover her windows before sunrise. She fed rarely, often weeks between people. She wasn’t actively trying to kill herself, but she wasn’t being cautious either. She had no drive anymore. Ivy kept after her, learning to trick mirrors into showing Ginny’s reflection, and closing the curtains in her apartment, anything. It became a routine. Ivy understood that Virginia felt guilty, but she also had forgiven her. Ginny hadn’t meant to hurt her, she knew that. She had been frenzied, she had never tried to turn a human before, and she had gotten drunk on Ivy’s blood. Clearly, that wasn’t how Virginia saw it. She was scarily thin, moving sluggishly, barely able to lift her head some days. She fed rarely and when she did feed, she drank next to nothing before healing her prey, glaming them, and sending them away. Ivy worried but couldn’t do anything. ~*~*~*~*~ Ginny spent years wasting away, and it was all Ivy could do to keep the sun from burning her away when she passed out in front of her window. “Ginny, Ginny, you have to get back to living.” Ivy scolded Virginia lightly. “I forgive you, please.” Ginny seemed to get her message at least in part, and Ivy was glad. The vampire cleaned up her apartment, and went out at night. She still fed lightly, but she fed almost every night. She started singing at clubs, under the name Jinkx Monsoon. Ivy watched Jinkx fall into a routine, she sang, she would charm someone in the audience, usually a woman, and drink from her, then turn her away. Decades passed, and the pattern held. In 1989, Ivy felt something strange. She felt drawn to somewhere else, and so she left Jinkx to follow that pull. “Ginny, I’ll come back, I promise.” Ivy promised Virginia, before fading away. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy found herself in California. She was in a hospital room, a mother and a newborn baby were there. Ivy looked at the infant. “Did you call me?” She asked, and the baby wrinkled her nose and sneezed. “Oh, Dora, did something tickle your nose?” The mother cooed, cuddling her baby. Ivy didn’t know why she was here, but this baby, Dora, was important. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy kept an eye on the girl, but she still didn’t understand why she felt drawn to her. She didn’t until the girl was in school. The kid was learning the states, and when Ivy heard the child say “Virginia,” she knew. That was the voice she heard just before she died. ~*~*~*~*~ Dora had trouble in school, she had trouble with words. She had trouble writing her own name. But she liked music, she liked to sing. Maybe she couldn’t spell, but music made her feel good. Ivy beamed when she heard the little girl sing, she was good. As the years passed, the kid got better at her school work, but the years of misspelling her name had taken her from being called Dora to being known as Adore. Ivy kept an eye on the girl, wondering what she meant, why she had heard her voice so long ago. ~*~*~*~*~ Adore sensed something was watching her. Did she have a guardian angel? She could swear she saw a blonde woman sometimes, watching out for her. But when she tried to look at the woman, she was always gone. Maybe she imagined it, she had been watching too much Buffy, was seeing things that weren’t there. Ivy tried to urge the girl to New York. She spent as much time with Adore as she did with Ginny. They watched the same vampire show, she noticed. This girl, Adore, she had to meet Virginia. Ivy liked to mess with Ginny’s TV during the show, this character Angel didn’t drink human blood, but Ivy had to keep Ginny in her routine. She’d make the TV staticky during bits where Angel discussed drinking animal blood. Eventually, Adore did go to New York City. Ivy was glad, maybe she and Ginny would meet now. They were right for each other. Adore was 25, when she moved to NYC. But she and Ginny didn’t cross paths. Ivy painted dreams of Virginia when Adore slept. Trying to draw the Latina to the ginger. It took two years, but eventually, Adore Delano and Jinkx Monsoon had gigs near each other. Ivy followed Adore, doing what she could to make her pass Jinkx’ show. Adore heard Ginny’s voice, and went into the theatre. Ivy snuck into Adore’s mind. She could fight Jinkx’ glamours, keep Adore’s head clear. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy cleared some of the fog from Adore’s mind as Jinkx fed. As she had suspected, Adore didn’t try to run. She seemed like she was about to ask what was happening, actually, but didn’t get a chance. Ivy was certain this girl was the one for Ginny, when she giggled as Jinkx treated her wounds. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy was weak, it had taken most of her energy to protect Adore’s memory. She had stopped the glam from replacing it fully, the rest was up to Adore. She faded back. Ivy roused a short time later, Adore was smoking a joint, trying to remember. Ivy nudged the real memory at her. “The singer!” Adore gasped, and Ivy was pleased. She sank back to almost nothingness, waiting. ~*~*~*~*~ Ivy gasped. Jinkx was forcing a memory on Adore. It was that night, this was it. This was where Adore’s voice had come from all those years before. Ivy watched her death unfold before her, and saw Jinkx breaking down, rejecting Adore’s attempt to tell her to stop. “No! I deserve to suffer!” Jinkx screeched at Adore. “Virginia!” Ivy felt herself pulled from the past, and she was forced from Adore’s mind. Adore comforted Ginny, and Ivy was there in her ear. “Our Ginny, she is a good person. I know that, you know that. Please, love her for me. She needs to know I don’t blame her. Trust her for me. For us.” Ivy felt her voice take real hold and saw Adore nod. She stroked the girl’s hair, seeing a shimmer appear. Had she changed something? Oops. She snapped back to attention, Ginny was thanking her. The blonde smiled. “Goodbye, Ginny.” She whispered, no one heard her this time. She felt warm, she was fading for the last time. She embraced Adore. “Thank you for giving her what I couldn’t.” She faded away, smiling. ~*~*~*~*~ “Adore, your hair…” “I guess that’s Ivy, here to stay.”

been a long while, remember me?

*arrow pointing up* that’s the title of the fic, though it is fitting on how my presence on tumblr has been pretty... not me for the past few days...

So heya I’m back. i hope to write more soon, my hands are just itching... Lmao I realized that I just love to add the word ‘remember’ on to my fics, don’t I?

Just read On My Love by @min-min-minnie and I’m so shook especially the part where like Vitya skates to On My Love and I’m like??? I can ascend to heaven now???

My soul is screaming and at the same time I’m so emotional about this fic I can’t even describe so I wrote this little snippet to calm myself down. 

By the way if you haven’t read this fic yet it’s so good please read it you’re doing yourself a favor thanks. Who am I kidding who hasn’t read this yet. Oh wait, my friend. Like girl, you’re missing out on life. But then again I threw like how many anime & book & fanfic & song recs at her oops.

Click the ‘keep reading’ for what this post was for! (it was hijacked by my fangirling haha sorry)

Mondays. 

As far as Viktor has observed from the general populace throughout his entire working history at Ice Castle, Mondays have always been the most restless and painfully tiring of all the days of the week.

He loves it here; as the customers come pouring in, in need of a hot cup of cappuccino to fuel their sleep-deprived minds, the smell of grounded beans permeating the cafe, and the slight hum of voices in the background as they wait for the desired drink.

Doesn’t take away the fact that it is slightly exhausting, though.

He hands another plastic cup filled with goodness to the next customer of endless customers, and sighs.

Mondays.

Tuesdays are slightly less demanding, and Viktor can finally have a breather. Even after all these years he still can’t get used to the flow of things here. He thinks fondly back on the days when it used to be more bearable...

“Viktor.”

His coworker, Chris, calls out to him, and Viktor has no choice to go help out with the espresso machine. The man grins at him suggestively when he comes near him, and Viktor shoots him a politely confused look.

“So,” Christophe, who has been his partner for a long while now, flutters his long eyelashes at Viktor handsomely. He slings an arm over Viktor’s shoulder. “You’ve been pretty out of it lately. What’s been on your mind?”

“Hmm...” Viktor puts a finger to his lips wonderingly. “I don’t think so, no.”

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yup. Gonna spill anytime soon?”

“No.”

He spends Wednesday relatively free, as his shift ends sooner than expected with the slightly lesser amount of customers entering the shop; he retires early to watching video clips on his phone.

He is so absorbed that when Mila, a good friend of his, taps a finger on his phone-

He jumps.

“Are you okay?” she is concerned, he can tell. He smiles reassuringly at her.

“Yup!” He chirps cheerfully. “Just-” He gestures at his phone.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She leaves, looking much more mischievous than she ever had before.

Viktor stares exasperatedly at her back.

Thursday is much more busier, and in a way, louder than any of the days he has seen lately.

Yuri Plisetsky almost kicks down the door to the entrance in anger, and Viktor is to his service as soon as possible.

“My usual,” Yurio snarls in his own I’m-angry-and-you-shouldn’t-mess-with-me (yet quite endearing) way, but Viktor is not deterred by his attitude.

He cocks his head to the side, “I’m sorry, but what is your usual again? I seem to have forgotten.” He flashes a quick smile to the teenager, “You know how my memory is like, Yurio!”

“You bastard- my name is not- what do you mean, you forgot my usual?! I come here every week!”

“Hahaha!”

“Old man!”

His much more drawn-out resounding laughter only angers the boy more, but at least it helps Yuri relax for the first time since entering the shop. Viktor is glad.

Thursdays, he decides. Thursdays are great.

He remembers the first time the man walked in.

It had been a vivid Monday morning, just as the fifth or sixth customer had walked out of the coffee shop holding a hot cup of their preferred drinks.

Bright hazel-brown eyes behind a pair of blue-black spectacles, shortened black hair.

“Yuuri,” he had said, after Viktor had asked the name of the newcomer. “Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Hmm...” Viktor had replied back then. “We have another customer by the name of Yuri too. With a different surname, of course.”

“What would you like to order?”

“A caffè mocha, please.”

Fridays are supposed to be relaxing.

Here’s another fact that Viktor has gathered from working in Ice Castle: it is not.

Viktor hates Fridays.

That’s all.

Yuuri arrives on a Friday evening, looking a bit down.

Viktor hands him a  caffè mocha without prompting, knowing that the man needs some time to himself at the moment.

Yuuri keeps silent throughout his entire stay at Ice Castle, and Viktor stays quiet as a supportive figure all the while.

He cannot push Yuuri.

A few weeks later, Yuuri visits once again, on a Friday. Viktor is relieved, as Yuuri hasn’t been coming as frequently as he would’ve liked recently. 

Yuuri spills everything that has been plaguing his mind.

About his skating career, that has been in the dumps lately due to lack of inspiration. About his dog, who recently died in a car crash and he hasn’t seen in five years. About his family, who he just can’t let down.

“You figure skate? That’s so cool!” 

Excited, Viktor had then marathoned all of Yuuri’s skating programs right after Yuuri had left the shop. He had even been scolded by Yakov for not doing his job properly enough with the lack of concentration he had.

Yuuri had become the most beautiful person he had even seen in his entire life, after that. Nothing, not even Yuuri could change that.

Saturday.

Saturdays are lazy.

Even though the sun shines bright outside, and the birds chirp positively atop branches of the sky-high trees, work must go on.

Viktor squints at the one customer that looks vaguely familiar, one that Chris has served while he had been idling by the sink.

He looks... Really familiar.

Disappointment sets in right away when he takes a closer look at the person’s face.

It’s not him.

Somehow, subtly and irrevocably, Katsuki Yuuri has become a huge part of Viktor Nikiforov’s life.

Just like Yakov, Chris, Mila, Yura, Georgi; Yuuri is irreplaceable to him as an important person to cherish deeply.

Viktor can’t have it any other way.

He is... incredibly happy.

Sunday is an off-day for him.

Usually he spends his break lying on his sofa, hugging Makkachin close to him and checking his social media. He usually speaks to his friends casually over the phone, even Yurio who spits fire at him for wasting his precious time. 

But not today.

Today, he shuts off everything, turns off the notifications of his social media, mutes his phone and pulls Makkachin next to him to watch the video that’s streaming live in a couple of minutes.

The video stream is titled: “Katsuki Yuuri’s FS Live at the Rostelecom Cup”.

He is mesmerized, once again, as Yuuri skates across the beautifully crafted ice, performing jump after jump of phenomenal perfection, and he is in awe.

Yuuri is as graceful as he has ever been, all those years ago.

Viktor is aching with longing, wishing to reach out to the man that he has not seen in a long long time.

But all he can do is gaze at him through the clear screen, pining after the man he had once known.

All he can do is watch.

Because Yuuri probably doesn’t remember him, not anymore.

“I’m going back.”

“I’m going back... to Japan.”

All Viktor can do is gape at Yuuri, thunderstruck by the awfully shocking news he has been dropped with.

Yuuri... is going back to Japan. Japan, his hometown, with his family, who he hasn’t seen in years. Japan, which is the home he desperately misses.

Japan, which is miles away from here, from Russia.

“Alright,” he croaks out, hoping not to sound too heartbroken by it. God, he desperately hopes that Yuuri does not notice. “...When do you depart? I might sent you off at the airport. You are my favorite customer, after all.”

They both laugh, even the laugh is incredibly awkward and Viktor’s words seem so rushed and there is such a painful emphasis on the word customer-

Yuuri gazes back at Viktor, and softly whispers with a bittersweet smile, “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

No, don’t go, he thinks, and hates himself for it. He cannot control what Yuuri wants or does, and it’s just so agonizing.

He is going to miss him when he goes.

Viktor prepares one last caffè mocha for Yuuri.

It is Monday once again, and Viktor feels rightfully tired, what with the amount of replays he had done on the laptop well into the night. 

But still, work must go on.

Mondays are tiring, but he still enjoys the work.

Just as he starts up his energy for the day, a thought hits him.

Yuuri is in Russia. What if-

He shakes his head. There is no way. Yuuri has forgotten about him and this coffee shop; he is sure of it.

That doesn’t prevent him from glancing at the door every time it is pushed open, though.

He knows he is being irrational.

The door jingles right open.

A man steps right inside, panting and covered in sweat. It is almost time to close.

Viktor turns around from where he is cleaning the table tops. “Sorry, we’re closed...” The words dry by his throat when he sees who it is.

Katsuki Yuuri steps forward hesitantly, “Umm...”

Viktor looks right into his eyes, wide-eyed and shocked.

“I’m sorry, but can you please make an exception just this once?” Yuuri pleads. “Please, if it’s that much of a bother I’ll go once you make the drink.”

Viktor straightens up, finding his voice again. “Okay, please sit down then. You- you don’t need to go after I make the drink, it’s alright. Take your time.”

Yuuri’s eyes flashes in relief, and he takes a seat on the table he usually sits in. Viktor’s heart jumps to his throat.

Yuuri opens his mouth, words clumsy with the man he hasn’t spoken to in a while. “I-I’d like to have a-”

“A caffè mocha?” Viktor speaks without thinking.

Yuuri looks disbelievingly at Viktor. Viktor gazes right back at him. His pulse races right along with his thoughts. 

Together, at the same time, both of their lips slowly upturn with joy.

They remember.

Writing is fun. :)

Wow, how did I manage to write so much in such a short time??? It’s even longer than We Already Know, I think. I’ll post it on ao3 too, since it got too long.

Oh and I just realized I’ve written much more dialogue than usual. Yay

4A

To: @love-and-hate-3

Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. The size, combined with the messy handwriting, caused Phil to spend hours deciphering what the first words his soulmate will say to him actually were. On his sixteenth birthday, Phil couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed that he was still clueless as to how his first interaction would go.

Since then, hundreds of hours in classes, work, and procrastination have been spent trying to make out the words. Over half a decade later, he’s pretty sure he’s correctly identified enough words to get the gist of what it says. Now it’s just a matter of waiting.

Phil sat on sofa in his brother’s lounge, idly flipping through a magazine, while he waited for his brother and his girlfriend to finally be ready to leave. A light knock at the door brought him out of his daze.

“Phil,” he heard Cornelia call from the bedroom, “can you grab the door? We’re expecting a package!”

With a sigh, Phil tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and walked to the door. His mum’s birthday present teetered slightly as the magazine collided with it. When he opened the door, he found a slightly smaller boy with a similar fringe holding a box and standing awkwardly in the hallway. Phil opened his mouth to ask where he should sign, but was cut off before he could say anything.

“Hi, I just moved in and this got delivered to me and the grouchy woman down the hall said to bring it to this apartment” As the boy talked, Phil could slowly feel a smirk growing on his face. The boy, however, wasn’t quite making eye contact and continued rambling. “Are you Cornelia? Obviously you’re not. Are you her husband? Boyfriend? Sorry – just – here.” The boy shoved the package into Phil’s arms before turning around to retreat back towards what Phil assumed was his own apartment.

“So, do you always talk this much?” He called out.

The boy stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face Phil. The awkward expression was replaced by a cheeky grin accompanied by an adorably deep dimple.

“Only when I’m caught off guard by incredibly hot guys.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to blush. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Phil, Cornelia’s quasi brother-in-law.”

“Hi,” the boy smiled. “I’m Dan, Cornelia’s new neighbor.”

“I’ve been waiting about six years for that package, you know.”

Dan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. Phil caught a glimpse of his own sloppy scrawl on Dan’s left forearm.

“Man, I knew the Royal Mail was shit, but I think that might be a new low. To be fair, I’ve only had it about ten minutes.” Dan chuckled quietly and Phil knew immediately that he would have no problem falling in love with that laugh.

Cornelia appeared behind Phil, carrying both her and Martin’s and Phil’s presents in her hands.

“Did you get the package, Phil?” Cornelia’s eyes drifted to Dan, who was still leaning in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” she said to Dan.

“Hello, I’m Dan.” Like a perfect gentleman, Dan extended his hand to shake Cornelia’s. “Your package got delivered to my place by accident.”

“Thanks for bringing it by! Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah, I just moved into apartment 4A last week.”

“Lovely to meet you. We’d love to have you over for tea sometime soon.” Cornelia turned to Phil. “Martin just called the cab and said he’d meet us downstairs.” She grabbed the package from Phil’s hands and tossed it onto the couch.

Phil didn’t break eye contact with Dan. “Sorry, it’s my mum’s birthday or else I’d…”

Dan straightened up. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in my apartment—4A—all weekend, ya know, unpacking and stuff in 4A. So yeah, uh, whenever. 4A.”

A wide smile spread across Phil’s face and his tongue slightly poked out. He laughed quietly at Dan’s lack of subtlety. “Sorry, what was that? I think I missed it. Did you say 5C?”

“Shut up you spork. I’m just gonna…” Dan took a few steps backwards and gave Phil a small two-fingered salute with his left hand. This time, Phil got a better look at the words on Dan’s forearm: So, do you always talk this much? His stomach involuntarily did a flippy-over-thing at the sight. Dan turned around and scampered into his apartment, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Cornelia shot Phil a confused look, but grasped his wrist and pulled him towards the stairs without question. “Come on, let’s go before we miss the cab.”

Phil remained silent as they trudged down the four flights of stairs to the lobby. In the back of his mind, he heard Martin yell at them to wait up. Together, the three of them waited in the crisp November air; while they stood on the pavement, Cornelia huddled into Martin for body warmth.

The cab came and Phil climbed into the backseat, as if on autopilot. His thoughts drifted to caramel eyes and a long brunette fringe. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Dan’s chuckle. He replayed their short interaction in his head over and over again on the way to the restaurant.

“Phil. PHIL. PHIL.” Martin’s fingers snapping loudly in his face pulled him out of his daydreams. “I said we’re here. Get out of the cab.”

“Oh. Oops.” Flustered, Phil opened the door and gracelessly clambered out, holding the door opened for his brother.

Dinner passed by in a blur. Several times, his mother asked him why he was particularly aloof tonight, but Phil brushed it off each time. Tonight was his mother’s special night and he didn’t want to overshadow her birthday celebrations. After the third time his mum expressed concern, Phil tried his best to push his encounter with his soulmate to the back of his head and engage more.

It wasn’t until he was standing outside the restaurant waiting with Martin and Cornelia for their cab again that he let his thoughts drift back to Dan.

“Cornelia?” Phil interrupted her conversation with Martin.

“Hmm?”

“What was in the box? From earlier?”

Cornelia smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m not telling you.”

Phil cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“It’s your Christmas present, silly.”

Without warning, Phil flung himself at Cornelia, embracing her in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Cornelia patted Phil’s back as best as she could, given that her arms were pinned to her side by Phil’s smothering hug. “I’ve gotten you a present every year for four years. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, you never need to get me one again because you’re never going to top this.” Phil released her, stepping back.

“Okay, nerd, you haven’t even opened it yet.”

“No—I—uh…” His cheeks reddened. “Dan.”

Martin, who missed the entire interaction earlier, muttered, “Who the bloody hell is Dan?”

However, Cornelia’s eyes widened. Her eyes traveled down Phil’s right arm. “Was that…?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

This time, it was Cornelia who smothered Phil. “Oh my god. I’m so happy for you.” She stepped back, reaching up to squeeze Phil’s cheeks between her hands. “Does this mean you’ll stop spending every moment you can at our apartment?”

Phil smiled so wide it hurt. “Yeah, but I can’t promise you’ll see any less of me. He is your neighbor, after all.”

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Martin interjected.

“My package got delivered across the hall by accident and the new neighbor brought it over.” Cornelia roughly grabbed Phil’s arm and shoved it towards Martin’s face.

“Okay…?”

Cornelia rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so dense. Phil’s soulmate brought the package over.

A look of realization spread across Martin’s face. “Oh… Oh! Congratulations!” Phil smiled, suddenly eager to get back to the apartment. He was secretly hoping to bail on the Great British Bake Off marathon they had planned.

The ride back seemed to take an eternity. When they finally arrived at the apartment, Phil awkwardly loitered by the door while Martin and Cornelia hung their coats and set down their things.

“I’m sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I maybe go across the hall instead of watching the Bakeoff? See if Dan’s awake still?”

“Take the spares so you don’t wake us up when you come back.” Phil barely caught the keys Cornelia tossed at him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Martin smirked.

“It’s not like that—I’m not going to… that. I just want to meet him. Properly.”

Cornelia shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him in the direction of Dan’s apartment. “Get out of here. Have fun.”

As he stood in front of 4A, Phil took a steadying breath to try to calm his nerves. Before he could chicken out, he knocked lightly on Dan’s door. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly 23:00. He hoped Dan wasn’t an early sleeper.

Much to his relief, the door opened barely ten seconds after he knocked. Dan had changed into black joggers paired with a black tshirt and had clearly showered since Phil saw him earlier. Phil’s eyes were immediately drawn to Dan’s hair, which was a wet, curly mop on top of his head. Self-consciously, Dan fiddled with the curls, trying to tame them into submission.

“You have curly hair,” Phil murmured, stunned.

Dan flushed. “I know. I look like a fucking hobbit.”

Phil desperately wanted to reach out and run his hands through Dan’s hair, but they’d only just met and he didn’t want to freak Dan out. Instead, he said, “the cutest hobbit I’ve ever seen.”

The redness of Dan’s cheeks extended to his ears, but he smiled shyly and Phil could see a hint of his deep dimple. “Do you want to come in?”

“I’d like nothing more.”

As Phil entered the apartment, he scanned the lounge. It was obvious that Dan was still moving in, but the room was littered with knickknacks. A large Muse poster hung on the opposite wall. A charizard plushie sat haphazardly on the sofa. A boxed set of the Studio Ghibli movies balanced precariously atop the television. Mario Kart was paused on the screen.

No, Phil thought, I won’t have any trouble at all falling in love with this boy.