#maybe some weird joke about killing a shitty customer at some job

[softboywriting]

Fight For You | Part 1

Summary: Your whole adult life you’ve dated mixed martial arts fighters, it comes naturally with working and living in and around the fighting circuits. After a fallout with your now ex-boyfriend you find a new place to start a new life where you find someone who is willing to fight for you as much as you are for him. Will you be able to build something beautiful or will your past come back to haunt you? [fighting] [asshole ex]

Word Count: 13k

Authors Note:  None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics on any platform.

|Masterlist In Bio|

Moving to a new town in a new state is a fresh start for you. After a rough year dealing with an asshole boyfriend, leaving said boyfriend and losing your job, you have to find a new place in life. The world is a clean slate for you and Red Lake is where you’re ready to put down some roots and start over. Your best friend Jodi and her wife live there and they’re the closest thing to a real family you have left so choosing Red Lake was a no brainer.

"So, how's the apartment?" Jodi asks as she unlocks the back door of the gym where she works. Her wife Harlow is the owner and a former female MMA fighter. "It's not too shitty I hope."

"Oh I didn't get the apartment. I got the house on Garden Plaza. The one Harlow said her friend was renting out."

"Oh yeah! Fuck, I totally forgot." Jodi holds the door open for you and you wander into the back storage room. It's full of old mats and various pieces of equipment in need of repair. "When does the truck arrive with your stuff?"

"This week. The drivers said tomorrow but I'm not counting on it."

Jodi pushes open the door to the main hallway to the gym floor and nearly smacks into someone. "Holy shit!" She leans on the door and you step forward to see who she hit or just got scared by.

"Are you okay?" A voice says from beyond the door and a head pops out. "Sorry Jodi."

"God! Why are you here so early!" Jodi asks, ushering you out into the hall. She closes the door and you see a guy in a fitted black shirt and a pair of grey sweats standing behind the door. He's oddly familiar.

"Harlow asked me to come in and...wipe down the mats." The guy stares at you and you stare back. You know him. Those chocolate curls, soft eyes, and sharp jawline are unmistakably familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.

Jodi waves her hand in front of his face. "Shawn? Earth to Shawnie boy!"

Shawn Pierce. Shit, yeah it's coming back to you. Tate trained with him about a year ago when he was trying to get into the western region MMA championship circuit. You were never properly introduced but you did talk a few times. Tate didn't bring you by the gym a lot, he claimed you distracted him.

"You're Tate Greyson's girlfriend right?"

"Ex." Jodi snorts and you shove her shoulder. Shawn raises his eyebrows.

"I was, yes. We're not together anymore." You chuckle and shake your head. "Not that we were ever that together in the first place."

Shawn narrows his eyes at you and you shift uncomfortably. "Did he hit you?"

"What?" Your eyes go wide.

"The bruise on your collarbone."

Jodi leans in and pulls your shirt aside a little bit. "Oh shit, what happened?"

Suddenly you remember the bruise in question. You had fallen off the step ladder in your apartment back home while taking down your plant hangers. "I fell while packing up my apartment." You pull your shirt back to show Jodi more of the yellowing bruise. "I swear Tate never hit me. It's been months since I've seen him."

"Oh thank God." Jodi sighs and pulls out her keys. "I'd kill him myself if he touched you."

Shawn steps back and rubs his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

You lean against the wall as Jodi walks up the stairs to her office door. "No, it's fine. Tate is a bit of a loose cannon, but he never hit me."

"Yeah, he was a tough one." Shawn folds his arms, stretching the tee across his chest and you can't help but stare. He shakes his head. "He never did like to listen, always just wanted to swing hard and fast, no finesse."

"Should have seen him in bed. Same tactic."

Shawn's eyes widen and you realize you didn't really need to tell him that. You flush and he just laughs. "Man he must have pissed you off if you're out here dragging him like this."

"Yeah he did." You roll your eyes at the thought of Tate. Everything he did pissed you off. Silence falls between the two of you and you push off the wall. "I'll see you around?"

"I'm here just about every day." He puts his hand out for you awkwardly and you take it, giving an oddly formal shake. "Are you going to be here a lot?"

"Dunno. I got a job at Dixie's down the street but I work nights. So I might come around a bit."

Shawn drops your hand and runs his hand over his hair. "A waitress?"

"Bartender." You smirk and he grins. "You can stop by, I make a good gin and tonic. I'm allowed discounts for family and friends."

"I'm a friend then, eh?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll be a friend." You look him over and bite your lip. "Maybe more."

Shawn grins and you can't miss the pink that spreads across his cheeks. "You're bold. I like that." He steps back and turns to go out to the main floor. "I should get back to those mats now."

"Mmmhmm." You wave him off. "See ya."

Jodi clicks her tongue and you steps out of her office. "You are so predictable." She says from the top of the stairs.

You jog up to meet her and give her a look. "What? Because I think he's hot?"

"No, because he's a fighter." Jodi rolls her eyes and sinks into her chair as you follow her into the large room. "You only date fighters."

"Says the woman who married one!"

"Hey, I don't count. Harlow is the only fighter I ever dated and I didn't even know she was a fighter when we started going out."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. So I got a type. Whoopty do."

"At least Shawn's a good one."

"You saying I have poor taste?"

Jodi picks up a few large envelopes and stares at you over them. "You're joking right? Tate? Remember that hot garbage of a few months ago?"

"Yeah but Chase before him wasn't garbage."

"Chase was a two month fling while you worked the circuit with me. Was he ever anything?"

You flop down onto the couch under the window that overlooks the gym. "I guess not. So what, Shawn's a fighter and I like fighters. Maybe he'll be a keeper."

"Ex fighter."

"Hmm?"

"Shawn's an ex fighter." Jodi types aways at her computer and you wait for her to continue. "He doesn't fight anymore. What?"

"He doesn't? Why? He looked healthy."

"Personal choice. Harlow has been trying to book him on the circuit for years. He keeps in shape and trains other fighters for Harlow but he's not getting in that ring for anything. It's a shame, he was a two time champion."

You look out the window to where Shawn is running along the mats on the far side of the gym with a towel. You wonder what made him stop competing. A guy like him could take out anyone his weight. No doubt. You'd seen him spare with Tate once when he trained with him. Shawn has the skill, what would drive him to waste it?

_____________________

Dixie's is a hole in the wall kind of place. Definitely a local spot and everyone in town goes there. It's a bar and restaurant that serves your classic American staples, burgers, fries, steak and sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the food is good and homemade. The day time crowd at Dixie's is mostly families, regular customers on their lunch breaks or afternoon meetups, occasionally a truck driver or two since it's on the edge of the town. The night time crowd at Dixie's is much different, very adult orientated. They didn't let kids in after eight since that's when most of the drunks and party goers start showing up. Most people know to avoid Dixie's for a late dinner lest you be caught up in a fight or have to listen to some guy babble on about the good ole days for four hours.

You work the night shift at the bar. You don't mind, you tended places much worse. Hell, you lived in Vegas for a year after graduation and that's where you learned to bartend. When you're raised in hell, the rest of the world doesn't seem so bad.

"Hey! You made it!" Carrie says from the door to the kitchen. "I was worried you wouldn't come back after last week."

"What? Greg? Please, I've dealt with a lot worse then having a drink thrown at me and being called a raging bitch." You place your purse under the counter behind the bar in a little safe. Carrie didn't fuck around when it came to safety and personal belongings in her bar.

"Oh thank God. Greg is an asshole but if you made it through the night with him I think you'll be alright."

"I worked in Vegas, Carrie." You grab your apron off the wall beside her. "I've seen shit. Greg, ain't shit."

Carrie looks incredibly relieved. "I've had four bartenders walk out because of him."

"Yeah, well, they weren't me." You wave to one of the waitresses, Sammy, coming in for her shift. The two of you hit it off really well last week so you're excited to work with her tonight."Besides, I'd like to stick around."

Carrie pushes open the kitchen door and you follow her in. "Oh yeah? Find a love interest?"

"I don't think I'd call him that yet. But I'm definitely interested." You grab a few plates off the warming table to help Carrie serve them. "We've met before."

"Oh wow, coincidence huh? You just moved here right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird, but he's a fighter who trained with my ex boyfriend a year ago. I guess I'm bound to meet people from the same circuit."

Carrie chuckles and leads the way with her arms full of plates. "You like those fighters huh? We got a lot of those type around here."

"I do." You fall silent as you help Carrie serve the large group of middle aged people at the front of the seating area. As soon as you're done Carrie walks with you to the bar.

"Anyway, those fighters are always coming in here. I don't mind the business of course, they eat a lot. But some of them also drink alot and bar fights between fighters is a nightmare."

"Don't worry, I can handle them." You wipe out some glasses on the drying station and Carrie starts going through the liquor stock to see what she needs to bring out of the back for the night. "I swear, I'm sticking around."

Carrie pauses and looks over at you. "You seem pretty set on it."

"Yeah, I am. Things are good here. I have my own place, I'm near my best friend, there's a hot fighter who I wanna get to know. It's good. A fresh start."

"I'm happy for you dear." Her hand comes down on your shoulder and you look over at her. She's smiling, her big round glasses sitting too low on her nose. She blows a stray curl out of her face and pats your shoulder a few times. "You're a good kid."

"I try to be." You chuckle. "Anyway, looks like it's kicking off early tonight." You point at a group of guys who have just walked in, some fighters by the looks of them. Out of circuit fighters, the kind who drink too much and let their bodies get weakened by alcohol. You scoff to yourself. Frat boys with too many muscles and big dreams but no dedication. A bunch of Tate Greysons'. It's gonna be a long night.

___________________

"Pierce! Focus!" Harlow yells from the office doorway at the top of the stairs. Shawn is standing in the ring with his client for the day but he keeps looking over at you where you're talking to Jodi near the bathrooms.

You look over and bite your lip, knowing you got him in trouble. "Anyways, as I was saying," you turn back to Jodi and she's grinning. "What?"

"Harlow is gonna kick his ass if he doesn't stop gawking at you." She looks up at her wife through the window and she's pacing the office, watching Shawn like a hawk. "You're quite a distraction."

"I don't mean to be. I'm just standing here for fucks sake." You gesture to your jeans and plain tee shirt. "I'm not even dressed up!"

Jodi laughs. "Shawn's just soft, he's got your attention and he doesn't want to lose it. I don't know the last time he had a girlfriend."

"Really?" You look back. "A guy like him has been single for-" Shawn gets clocked in the head. "Oh shit."

Jodi sighs. "Moron."

You jog over to the ring and hold onto the cage, staring at Shawn on the ground. "Are you okay?!"

"Dude, you went down like a sack of bricks." The other fighter says, kneeling on one knee beside Shawn. "Dude?"

"Is he knocked out?" You ask, walking along the ring to climb the stairs at the open entryway. "Shawn?"

"I haven't been hit that hard in years." Shawn groans, eyes closed. "Good left hook, Connor."

"Thanks, but for real are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Shawn sits up and holds his head. "Y'know no matter how many fights you're in, and how much training you do, getting hit hurts worse when you're not expecting it."

"Getting hit hurts in general." You laugh and help him up on his feet. "And you would have expected it if you weren't staring at me."  

Connor snickers.

"I was not staring." Shawn stretches his arms and shakes off the hit.

"Yeah? Why'd you get hit then?"

"We're sparing."

"Uh huh." You look to Connor. "Did he seem distracted?"

"Very."

"Mmm thought so." You turn and walk out of the cage with a glance back with a small smile.

Shawn calls out to you as you cross the gym floor. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!"

"Stop staring at me and actually talk to me is what it means!" You laugh and meet up with Jodi outside the office. "God he's ridiculous."

"He hasn't asked you out yet?"

"No! It's been a week since we met. He just stares at me when I'm here and occasionally says no more than four words to me." You glance over and Shawn and Connor have changed positions so Shawn is with his back to you. "I think he's shy."

"Shawn? Nah. He's sweet, always has been. I think he's just cautious because he knows you just got out of a relationship, and one with a former trainee of his too. I'd be cautious."

"Well light a fire under his ass for me will you?"

Jodi gives you a thumbs up. "I'll get right on that boss. Matchmaker Jodi Price is on the case!"

"Oh shut up. Just talk to him?"

"I will." Jodi grabs her keys from Harlow as she steps out of the office. "We'll be back later honey."

"I'll pick up dinner." Harlow looks out at Connor and Shawn. "If I'm late it's because I've got two man-children to deal with."

"Easy on him. He's got feelings for our girl here."

Harlow rolls her eyes. "I don't pay him to have feelings."

"You're such a hardass, Harlow." You laugh and she smirks. "I promise I'll try not to stop in too much when he's training Connor."

"Yeah yeah." Harlow waves you off. "Get out of here, go have fun."

"Picking up furniture at Ikea isn't fun." Jodi says in annoyance.

"Mmhmm. Sure its not. Bye bye." Harlow walks toward the window to the gym floor and you wave goodbye.

"Come on." You put your arm around Jodi's shoulders. "Let's go build some skeptical furniture and relive the good ole days."

Jodi laughs. "Yeah, the good ole days of duct taped chair legs and book balanced tables. God I hope these Ikea things will be better than our crap back then."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

_____________________

Building furniture is a nightmare. You and Jodi spend an hour putting together a dresser that you end up abandoning in favor of Chinese take out and a rerun of Chopped you hadn't seen before while sitting on the boxes for your nightstand and kitchen cart. You still have both of those items plus your bed frame to build. You'll get to it eventually.

Eventually leads to three days later and you still have the boxes propped against the wall of your living room where you and Jodi abandoned them after dinner. Every day you walk past them and think, maybe that day, but then you keep going. It's not until today, Friday, your day off, that you might actually get them built.

"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks as he steps down out of the cage. You've been watching him spar with one of the other trainers for an hour now after stopping by to help Jodi read over some paperwork for the gyms lease.

"Me?"

He grins. "Yeah, you."

"Building furniture for my house."

He chuckles and sinks into the chair next to you, observing two fighters now sparing on the mats nearby. "Sounds like a wild time."

"Oh it will be. I'll probably decide to get drunk halfway through and just say fuck it again." You laugh to yourself. "Drunk lonely furniture building on a Friday night. I've reached my peak at age twenty four."

"Need some help?" Shawn looks over and you raise your eyebrows. He is really making a move. Finally.

"You sure you don't have some floors to clean or something?" You ask, referencing the last time he tried to get out of your attempt to instigate a date. He is a weird one, definitely interested but hesitant for some reason. You get what Jodi said, about him being cautious because of your past with Tate but it's been almost five months. You're ready to move the fuck on. You gotta make it clear to this man you're ready.

Shawn smiles and looks away. "Okay, fair enough. Just call me out why don't you?"

"Yeah? You realize you've been dragging this out?"

"Yeah yeah. So can I come over?"

You grin and cross your arms. "I guess. What do you drink?"

"Tequila?" He says with a smirk as he starts unwrapping his hands.

"I'm not buying tequila. I don't know about you but tequila fucks me up and I will make some bad decisions."

"Me too, maybe we should go for it then."

"Absolutely not." You reach over and grab Shawn's hand as he picks at a piece of the fabric that's tucked too tightly under another. "How about we just start with some hard lemonade or something?"

Shawn smiles and closes his big hand over yours. "It's a date then?"

"Is it a date?"

"Could be."

"Let's just call it hanging out for now." You place the coiled up wad of wrapping fabric in Shawn's hand. "Now, I'm going to get lunch at Dixie's. You want something?"

"Nah, I brought lunch." Shawn looks over at the sitting area where Harlow has set up a refrigerator, a stand with a microwave and a few little tables with chairs. "Leftover chicken and rice."

You stand and Shawn stands with you. He flexes his hand a few times to work out the stiffness of it being bound too tight in the wrapping. You head for the office stairs to see if the ladies want lunch too. "I'll let you know when I'm heading home so you can follow me."

"Works for me."

"Oh, and don't wrap your hand so tight next time." You point at his hand. "You should know better."

Shawn grins sheepishly. "Maybe someone else should wrap it for me?"

"Maybe." You smile and he just grins.

_____________________

"Hey Jodi have you seen- oh." Shawn leans against the door as he looks between you and Jodi on the couch in the office. It's almost seven and you had completely lost track of time.

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha doing?"

Jodi holds her half wrapped hand up to show Shawn. "Teaching her to wrap."

Shawn smirks. "Your ex never taught you?"

"Tate didn't like having me around too much when he was fighting. He said I distracted him. So I didn't get to wrap his hands but once or twice."

"What a dick. Well I'm done cleaning up for the day, are you ready to go?"

Jodi raises her eyebrows. "Y'all have a date? And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not a date." You roll your eyes. "He's just going to help me with the furniture."

"So he's gonna be at your house with you alone?"

"Yes." You stand and Jodi unwinds her hand. "Now don't say another word missy." Jodi just snickers and you grab your purse. "Let's go Shawn."

An hour into furniture building and you're sure you're going to combust. Shawn is so big and thick, and close. He's in a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top, having forgone his shirt almost as soon as you started working. He is just...he's too much. You thought Tate was big, you thought Tate was ripped and he was but not like Shawn. The way Shawn is built and the way he moves so fluidly is just...it's enough to stop your heart.

"Hey, hello?" He waves his hand in your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah?"

Shawn chuckles and leans back on his forearms. "What'd I say?"

"Hello?"

"Nope. I asked you if you wanted to get dinner."

"Oh." You push your hair back out of your face and look up at the clock over your kitchen table. "It's almost eight. Shit."

"So? Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah in the evening, but I didn't mean to keep you this late."

"It's not late?" Shawn laughs. "It's no big deal. I'm off tomorrow. I'll order something and we'll keep putting together this bed frame, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is bad for your back."

"Mmmhmm. Sure you don't just want to stay late to get me on this bed after we put it together?"

Shawn sits up, leans forward onto his hands and knees, face close to yours as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Oh I'll be much more upfront when I wanna do that." He pulls out his phone and you flush hot. "What sounds good? Pizza? Wings? Chinese?"

"Don't you need to eat healthy?"

"I do." He smiles over at you. "It's alright to indulge now and then."

"Oh."

"None of this is going away because I eat some pizza now and then." He gestures up and down himself. "I know that sounds incredibly pretentious but I worked hard for this strength. I'm having pizza." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks around the room aimlessly as it rings.

"Tate never wanted to get dinner. He said it'd ruin his diet." You stand and look around at the scattered pieces of the bed frame and your stomach rumbles loudly.

"Yeah because he was an idiot." Shawn says softly before answering the phone and placing an order for a medium taco pizza.

You raise your eyebrows and he grins. How did he happen to know your favorite pizza? There was no way he could have known or guessed. Taco pizza was not an every day order.

"Thank you bye." He pockets his phone. "Anyway Tate was obsessed with his eating habits. I remember sitting him down and explaining that he actually needs to eat real food and not protein shakes and supplements for every meal. He didn't ever listen though."

"Yeah he was an idiot, okay, but how did you know I like taco pizza?"

"Wild guess."

"Uh uh. Who told you?"

Shawn holds his hands up. "Honest to God, you want the truth?"

"Yeah. Who was it?"

"No one. Seriously, it was a wild guess. I like taco pizza and I noticed you have little taco magnets on the fridge and a taco pillow on your couch so I figured maybe you like them too. Seriously, it was a shot in the dark."

You stare at him slack jawed. He had been in your house for an hour and he noticed your taco magnets? That was...just so...weird? What else did he notice? You look around your room suddenly very self conscious of everything you have sitting on the dresser and nightstand. "I...I don't know what to say about that."

"About what?"

"About how observant you are."

"Oh. Should I not be?"

"N-no, I mean, it's fine? I've just never had someone pay attention to my stuff I guess."

Shawn chuckles and gets down on his knees to start taking the rest of the bed frame pieces from the box. You definitely don't miss how his ass is perfectly accentuated by the dip of his jeans. "Well, I like your place, it's interesting and cozy. Sorry if that's weird, I don't mean it to be."

"It's fine." You get down next to him, eyes still on his butt and he hands you a bag of screws. "It's just different. You're different." He leans forward to grab a bar from the frame and the way his back curves makes you want to grab his ass so bad. It's perfectly round and you just want to feel it so badly.

He glances over with a smile as he sits back on his knees. "Is that good?"

"W-what?" You feel a flush on your cheeks. Was he talking about your staring? Was he good? Because yes, a thousand times yes he was.

"Is it good that I'm different?"

"Oh! Yeah, very good." You smile and look down with a chuckle as you dump the bag of screws into a little Tupperware bowl he hands you that you've been using for small parts so nothing gets lost. "I like different."

"Me too." He grins and you meet his eyes. "Let's get this bed together so we can relax when the pizza gets here."

"Sounds like a plan."

_____________________

"Busy night?"

You look up from the back of the bar and see Shawn sitting a few seats down from you. He's smiling, hair pushed back looking like a damn angel in his white tee. The bar has been crowded for two hours now, a huge bachelor party of some sort taking up most of the space in the building. You and Sammy have been working double time to get food and drinks out as quick as possible. Big parties of guys meant big tips, keep them happy, keep that tip growing.

"Yeah." You glance over to the loud crowd nearby. "Bachelor party."

"I see. Must be fun?"

"For me or them?"

"Both?"

You chuckle and walk down to stand in front of him. "Is it fun making drinks? Yes. Is it fun watching a bunch of twenty some year olds get hammered while getting hit on by every one of them? Not so much."

Shawn waves off a drink offer as you gesture to the bar behind you. "I just came by to see how you were doing. You haven't been by the gym in a few days."

"Oh, you noticed." You lean back and smile. "I've been working doubles. Carrie has had a cold and I didn't want her to push herself. I'm a lot younger, I can't handle a few days of work."

Shawn cracks open a peanut from the bucket on the counter for customers. "You're a sweetheart." He grins and pops the peanut in his mouth. "Glad you're alright though."

"Did you think I was avoiding you?"

"Nah. Well, a little?" He chuckles and hangs his head. "Honestly I thought I fucked up the night we put together your bed."

You step forward and fold your arms on the counter in front of him. "I'd tell you if you fucked up. Trust me, you haven't done anything to put me off."

"Good. What do you say to lunch Wednesday?"

"I'd say I hope you like Dixie's pulled pork special because that's where I'll be."

"You work dayshift again?" He shakes his head.

"Yep. My last double."

"Okay, alright. I'll stop by?"

"I'd love it."

Shawn looks over at the party of guys getting loud again. "I'm gonna head out before that gets too wild. Stay safe honey."

"Bye Shawn." You roll your eyes at his ridiculous pet name and he waves as he heads out.

____________________

"How's Connor doing?" You ask as you watch the young fighter spar with one of the other guys while Shawn is taking a break in the office.  

"The kid is insane. He's fast, strong, smart too. He reminds me of myself when I was nineteen."

You look over and Shawn is tossing a stress ball up at the ceiling casually. "Connor is nineteen?"

"Yeah." He looks over with a grin. "Why? Thought he was cute?"

"Shawn! God, no. I'm just surprised Harlow took on a guy that young."

"I was too. I remember when Connor walked into this gym. He was a short little sixteen year old with no intention of doing anything but bulking up a bit."

"He didn't wanna be a fighter?"

"Nope." Shawn chuckles. "He came to take some HIIT classes and some CrossFit bullshit Harlow had let a trainer do for a few months. I think once he saw me and Mike in the ring he caught the bug."

You watch as Connor takes down his opponent, pinning him to the mat. Shawn's right, he is fast and strong for his size. His practice opponent is easily twenty pounds heavier than him and he is taking him down like it's nothing. "You think he's gonna make it to championship finals?"

"He going to make it to nationals if I have any say in it. He has what it takes, he's got the heart and soul of a fighter. You don't see that everyday. I've trained a lot of guys in the last few years and they just don't have what Connor has."

"Has any of your trainees made it to the championship circuit?"

"No. Not yet." Shawn looks over and you chuckle. "What? You think I'm not good at training?"

"Not that. I'm just laughing because your last trainee was Tate right?"

"Yeah."

"He definitely didn't have what it takes."

"He didn't. He couldn't listen, just wanted to do what he thought was right. You'd think when a two time western champion and two time national finalist takes the time to train you, you might try and give a fuck." Shawn sits up and squeezes the shit out of his stress ball. "Tate honest to God pissed me off like no other."

You raise your eyebrows and giggle. How funny it was that the two of you shared the same distaste for Tate. "He was something."

"No. He's nothing and he's never going to be until he gets his head out of his ass."

"Harsh."

"You think so? I'm sure you've thought the same thing."

You smirk. "I've definitely thought worse."

"And I'm harsh?"

"I haven't said it out loud." You scoff and lean back in Jodi's chair. "But someone should."

Shawn stands and walks over to the desk. He leans forward and smirks. "I'd tell that sorry piece of shit every single thing you wish you could say to him. I'd hand deliver it to him right in his smug fuckin jaw."

"Easy tiger." You run your hand up his arm, fingers curling against bicep and he drops his head. "No need for the violence. Fighting is an art not a brawl."

"You-"

"I'm using your own words against you?" You smirk and stand up, checking a message on your phone from Sammy about stopping by for tips from last night.

Shawn straightens up with a grin and shakes his head. "You remember me telling Tate that?"

"It's the first thing I ever heard you say to him."

"Tate is a dumbass for losing a woman like you, y'know?"

"Yeah." You walk around and past Shawn toward the door. "But if he wasn't, I wouldn't have ever found a man worth fighting for."

_____________________

Wednesday afternoon is a shit show. For some reason there are a couple day drinkers in at the bar and they won't stop bugging Sammy. She's covering a shift for one of the other waitresses, Megan, since it's her birthday and she's seriously regretting it. Day shift is supposed to be easy. The worst part being an occasional kid throwing food around. Poor girl.

"I just can't do it," Sammy hisses as she stands beside you at the end of the bar at the wash station. "That guy over there has been harassing me non stop. I've tried everything to get him to fuck off."

You take a look over at the end of the bar and you know exactly which guy it is. He's in his thirties, probably an insurance broker or real estate agent by the looks of his tailored suit and gray temples. He looks older than he should. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand that you served him about ten minutes ago. He's the one you were about to cut off and send packing anyways.

"Want me to make him leave?"

"Do you have a bouncer?" Sammy glances over your shoulder. "Because I don't think he's going to leave so easily."

"Well, how about we make him realize you're not into him?"

"By doing what?"

You smirk and set down your dirty glasses into the sink. "I can stage kiss you. I used to do it all the time with my friends back in Vegas." You look down at the guy. He'd definitely fall for it, he was too drunk to see straight. "We'll make a show of it."

"I don't know." Sammy twists her hands in her apron. "Maybe he'll just leave?"

"Sammy. He's not gonna leave if he thinks he has even an inkling of a chance." You pull Sammy down the bar closer to where the creep is sitting. "It's up to you. He's watching us right now."

"Okay, okay." She shakes her hands out and puts her hand on your shoulder, going up to your neck. You can see her glance over at the guy. "It's working he's watching intently."

"Good." You cup her cheek and bring your other hand up to here jaw and cover her mouth with the side or your palm as you pretend to kiss her. "Is he looking?"

"Mmhyeah."

You pull back and give Sammy a hug before going down the bar to the creep. "Do you need a refill on that?" You ask, pointing to his nearly empty glass. You weren't really going to give him a refill, he'd had more than enough.

"No." He grumbles and stands up. "I'm going home." He passes you his credit card and you settle his tab. "Thanks."

Sammy beams from her spot by the liquor shelves. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Almost every time." You walk over and hand her the ones the creep had left as a tip under his cup. "For you dear."

"Thanks." Sammy pockets the bills and smiles. "I wish I had you years ago."

"Well I'm here now." You ruffle her hair and she ducks away. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Keep an eye out for Shawn? He is supposed to be coming in for lunch."

"Ohhh." Sammy smirks. "You got a little crush on the big boy?"

"Obviously." You toss your bar rag over your shoulder and head for a lady who's just walked up at the end of the bar. "How couldn't I?"

"He's a good one!" Sammy laughs and heads off to check on her tables while you get back to bartending.

_____________________

Shawn never showed up for lunch. You can't say you weren't a little disappointed since you had made plans, but you understand that he may have gotten busy at the gym. Things happen. It isn't a big deal.

You stop by the gym the next day to help Jodi with registration for the fall championship circuit for the western region. She had to have all of the fighters from Harlow's registered and ready to go by Monday. It is a ton of paperwork and you know what to do, so you volunteer to help out before work.

"Can you go get Jack for me? I need to talk to him about getting me a copy of his physical."

"Yep." You push away from her desk and head out the door. The locker rooms are to the right of the main floor of the gym and you head there first.

"Dude, I saw her kissing Sammy."

You freeze and listen to the conversation you've walked up on. It's clearly Shawn.

"So? What's the big deal?" It's Connor.

"I thought she was into me. We've been flirting and stuff and then I walk into Dixie's for lunch and she's kissing the waitress! I thought she was into guys!"

Connor laughs and sighs. "I dunno dude."

"I can be into both." You say, stepping into view and getting a good look at Shawn in nothing but a towel. He's dripping wet and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand, you have to look away. "Maybe if you wanted to know what was going on, you should ask me?"

Connor's eyes go wide and he looks between the two of you before ducking his head and squeezing around Shawn to make himself scarce.

"I know you can like whoever you want...I just thought..."

"Shawn." You walk over to him and lay your hand on his chest. He's warm and damp and oh Lord when he shifts you can feel the muscle flex. "Relax. I pretended to kiss Sammy so a guy at the bar would stop harassing her."

"Oh."

"Is that why you didn't show up for lunch?"

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I walked in and saw that kiss and I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."

"It's fine. I probably would have been really confused too." You look him over and he smirks. "I swear I'm still very much into you."

"Yeah? Enough to go on a real date?"

"Mmm I think it's time we did. Any plans?"

Shawn grins. "I have a few. How's this Saturday night sound?"

"I'm off. What time?"

"Six? I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable and not too fancy."

You raise your eyebrows and he just keeps smiling. "Alright. I'll see you then. In the meantime, have you seen Jack? We need a copy of his latest physical for the registration."

"He's probably out on the floor. If you didn't see him, check the backroom because he might be resting on the spare mats."

"In the storage area?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "He likes to meditate and listen to his audio books back there to relax."

"Oh. Well thanks." You pat Shawn's chest and he traps your hand under his, curling his fingers around yours. "Yes?"

He bites his lip and shakes his head before releasing your hand. "Nothing. Go on."

"See you in a bit."

_____________________

"Do you still do photography?" Harlow asks you Friday day while you, her and Jodi sit in their living room while going over travel plans for the out of state fights in this year's competition.

"A little bit. I don't do anything professionally anymore."

"But you have your camera?"

"Yeah of course and my lenses. Why?"

Harlow grins. "If I hire you, will you do the photography for the website? I need pictures of all the guys for the brackets this year."

"Sure I can do that. I think I have a my backdrop stuff still as well."

"You'll probably get to photograph Shawn too." Jodi pipes up from where she's typing away at the laptop. "You could take a few just for yourself."

"Jodi!"

"What?"

Harlow groans and shoves her wife's shoulder. "I'm hiring her for a professional shoot, quit teasing her."

"Yeah yeah."

"What time do you want me to stop by? I'm free this weekend and next Thursday all day. Otherwise I work after six."

"Stop by whenever you want. I'm sure it'll take a few days to get all the fighters done and we have a few weeks before fights start. We'll start with Connor when you do get set up. He's my headliner. I'm banking on him hard so I want his photos to be really good."

"Yes ma'am."

_____________________

"So you're doing photos for Harlow?"

You look over at Shawn from the passenger side of his truck. He'd picked you up at a little after six and still wouldn't tell you where you're going. He did make you change into an old pair of jeans instead of the black skinnies you had on and promised you wouldn't regret it. You're almost convinced he's taking you mudding outside of town because you've been driving for twenty minutes and you're still not sure where the hell you are.

"Yeah, I'm doing photos for her? Why?"

"No reason, I was curious."

"You want me to take pictures of you too?"

"I'm not a fighter in the circuit."

"So?"

Shawn looks over and raises his eyebrows. "So why would you take pictures of me?"

"Because you're gorgeous." You look out the window away from him, heart racing at your admission. "I'd die to photograph you in action. You're a rarity, perfect from every angle. It'd be a treat."

"I had no idea you were so into photography. That's awesome." He bumps your leg and you look over. "I'd love to see what kind of photos you take at matches."

"I've taken some good ones. But like I said, I really want to photograph you."

He chuckles. "Sorry sweetheart. I'm retired." He turns the truck down a dirt road toward a big sign that says Pierce Ranch.

"You have a farm?"

"No, my uncle does."

"Why are we going to your uncle's farm?"

"Because I'm taking you horseback riding."

"What? You're serious?"

Shawn turns the truck into a long driveway in front of a big sprawling house. "Dead serious. My uncle is out of town for a few days and he said we could come out and spend some time out here."

You sit stunned in silence. Horseback riding as a first date. Who thought of that? It's so off the wall and incredibly romantic.

"Should we go back?"

You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Shawn as he kills the engine in front of a set of garages. He looks worried. "No, why?"

"You're really quiet. If you don't want to do this we can just go to dinner or something. I know it's kind of different and-"

"I want to go horseback riding."

"Oh." He smiles big and you can see the relief on his face. "Okay good. I'm really looking forward to having you meet my favorite horse."

You put your hand on the door to get out. "I can't wait."

An hour later and you're set up on a horse named Butters, his favorite, and you're strolling along side Shawn on a well worn path around some trees behind the barns. You were nervous at first, needing Shawn's help to stay on the horse but eventually you got the hang of it.

"So, you must really like horses then?" You giggle, looking over at Shawn during a lull in conversation.

"Yeah. I used to spend every summer here with my Uncle Carlos. I still come out here pretty often when I need to relax and get away from it all."

"Ahh, I can see why. It's nice." You bite your lip and glance over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" He chuckles. "Usually that's how dates go."

"Why don't you fight anymore?"

Shawn is quiet. You know it's a sore subject, seeing as no one really wanted to get too in depth when they talked about Shawn's past. You're curious though. A man like him with his skills and experience could still be in the ring.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I-I knew you'd ask eventually." He sighs and guides the horses to a clearing in the trees. He slides off and hitches his horse and then yours to a tree before helping you down.

"Seriously, you seem uncomfortable to talk about it. We don't have to."

Shawn stuffs his hands into his pockets as the two of you head for a bunch of rocks. There's a stream nearby and you can hear the water trickling along the rocks you're walking toward. This place is incredibly serene and you feel bad for bringing up such a tense subject when the date has been going so well.

"So, three years ago I won my second championship." Shawn drops down onto a large flat boulder. "But, the fight was so intense I almost killed my opponent. Now I know, fights get rough and tension runs high in the ring when there's a lot of money and a title at stake. It wasn't about that though. I kicked my opponent so hard he dropped, he just went down, lights out. It wasn't until after everything was said and done I found out he had serious brain trauma from the fight, particularly from my kick."

You sit down next to Shawn and grab his hand. He rubs his thumbs over your fingers gently before continuing.

"I found out he had a newborn baby. I accidentally almost killed this man and took him away from his child because of a sport. I had to stop after that. I couldn't do it anymore."

"Oh Shawn." You squeeze his hand and he looks at you. "You didn't kill him though. He's fine, he's alive and with his child. It is part of the risks you take as fighters."

"I know. I just couldn't deal with that sort of thing happening again. I've made my peace with it and with fighting."

"I understand." You scoot a little closer and he runs his free hand over his hair. "You're a great trainer. Maybe being a fighter isn't for you anymore, but your skills aren't wasted this way. Do you want to fight?"

"To be completely honest, yes. I want to fight every single day, I itch to compete and I think that's why I push Connor so hard. I'm living vicariously."

"Maybe you could do some small time stuff? Not such high stakes?"

"I can't." He shakes his head. "When I'm in the ring I don't stop, I fight hard until I'm out or I win. It's all or nothing."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But anyways, I'm happy training." He smiles, soft and small but genuine nonetheless. "I'm proud to be training a fighter like Connor."

"Good. That's what matters." You bite your lip and giggle to yourself. "I much rather see you like this then all beat up anyway."

"Oh yeah? Not into the black eye and busted lip look?"

"Not on you." You reach out and tenderly turn his face to you. "You're too gorgeous to see damaged."

"I'm gorgeous?" Shawn smirks and runs his hand over your hair. "I think you're mistaken. You're the gorgeous one here." He cradles your face in his hand and just stares at you lovingly.

"No, definitely not." There's a moment where you're both staring at each other's lips and you both know that you want to make a move but it's too soon. Or is it?

Shawn's hand slides away from your face and he stands, offering to help you up. "Let's go back. I've got stuff to make dinner."

"You're making me dinner?"

He hauls you up against him. "Mmhmm. You can help if you'd like." He holds you steady by your hips. "How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?"

"Really good."

"Good." He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts walking back to the horses. "Because when we both have garlic breath the rest of the night won't matter."

You laugh and he just beams at you. "You're something else." You run your hand over his back and he leans his head on yours. "I like it, I like you."

"I like you too."

_____________________

Wednesday night comes around again quicker than ever and Dixie's is crawling with people. All the fighters from Harlow's have showed up to celebrate the announcement of the western circuit championship bracket. Shawn shows up a little after nine and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He smiles back and makes your heart beat faster. Things have been going incredibly well with him since the date at the ranch. You're falling hard and fast and you don't really want to stop.

"Hey darling," Shawn says over the loudness as he leans against an empty spot at the bar. "How's it going?"

"Packed! Harlow brought all the guys and their friends and families in! It's crazy."

"Good for business though."

"Very. Carrie is moving faster than I've ever seen her go. We've had to pull Dave from the kitchen twice to help me catch up with drinks. We're gonna need to restock." You laugh and point back at the bar. "My tips are racking up fast too."

Shawn looks you over in your required black tee and apron. It's nothing special, but you know it looks good on you and so does he. "You deserve every dollar you get tonight. You're working hard."

"I am. Can I get you something?"

"Just a diet coke is fine. I'm taking it easy in case anyone needs a ride home tonight."

You turn around and fill a glass from the soda guns attached to the counter. "Enjoy yourself, you got most of these guys to this competition after all."

Shawn raises his drink to that and smiles. "I'm going to go hang out with Connor and Jack. I'll check in later?"

"I'll be here."

Two hours later and you are pushing through the kitchen doors to find Carrie. There's a guy who's harassing you and he's way more wasted then he should be, you've only served him three drinks and they weren't that strong. You suspect he may be taking something along with his drinks and Carrie won't have that sort of activity in her establishment.

"We've got a problem." You state angrily, gripping the doorway to the walk in cooler. "It's that asshole who's been trying to get my number since he sat down."

"Yeah?" Carrie turns to look at you as she hauls out a box of burger patties for the cooks. "Is he tweaked out?"

"I think so. He just grabbed my chest when I leaned over to hand some drinks to a guy beside him."

Carrie is livid, her eyes look like she could kill a man with her bare hands and possible has before. "Oh he's gone, I'm gonna-"

A loud crash from beyond the kitchen stuns you both and not a second later Dave, the line prep cook, throws open the door to the backroom and says there's a fight in the front area. Carrie drops the box of burgers in the cooler and closes the door as she hightails it to the front with you on her heels.

The scene before you is not pretty and immediately you think that it's one of the fighters involved. You're right. It's a fighter. But not a current one. It's Shawn and he is standing in front of the bar squared up with the drunk grabby handed guy. There is an overturned table and chairs and you think Shawn's already knocked the asshole down once, or he stumbled into the table and fell.

"Shawn!" You try to yell over the crowd but it's way too loud.

Carrie pushes past you and shoves her tiny frame through the crowd. You decide to go around to get behind the bar and as soon as you do you see a mess of shattered glass and ice on the floor.

"Shawn!" You shout, hands cupped around your mouth. "Shawn stop!"

He isn't listening or he can't hear you. Either way he's swinging at the drunk guy again in defense and before anything can get worse, the cops show up. You watch as the crowd separates and drunk grabby hands gets cuffed while Shawn tries to talk to the cops. It's no use and you watch them walk Shawn out of the bar as well.

You lean on the counter with your back to the door as the two guys get escorted out. Great. You can't help but feel like this is your fault. Shawn must have seen the move grabby hands pulled and approached him. You run your hand over your hair and look to Carrie as she steps behind the bar.

"God damn fighters. This is such a mess!"

"Yeah it is." You chuckle dryly to yourself. "It sure is."

______________________

You didn't think you'd ever be waiting in the lobby of a police station at three in the morning but here you are. Harlow was going to come with, in fact she was going to go alone and bail Shawn out but Jodi was absolutely trashed and you know she needed to take care of her over Shawn, so you said you would go. Besides, you wanted to talk with him one on one about the fight and why it happened.

You hear Shawn before you see him. He's coming down the hall behind the check in desk. "What do you mean my girlfriend came and-"

"Hey," you wave and he walks over to you quickly and hugs you tight.

"Thank God you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay. What would have happened to me?"

Shawn pulls you back and holds your face. "I couldn't find you after that guy put his hands on you. I was worried you left Dixie's or he did something."

"Shawn, he was wasted. What was he going to do to me? He could hardly stand."

"I don't know. I approached him after I saw what happened and he was talking all this shit like what he wanted to do to you. God it was disgusting, and then I didn't see you around and I panicked."

You cup his face and he has a bruise blossoming on his left jaw. "So your instinct was to fight him?"

"He came at me. I was just going to get some of the guys to help me escort him out but he started swinging as soon as I said he needed to go."

"Well it's done and over with now." You turn and head for the doors. "I'll take you to get your truck at the bar."

The ride to Dixie's is quiet. The dark streets are empty, illuminated only by the soft yellow street lights that have been there for far longer than they should be. Seriously the light is so dim it hardly lights up the road. You turn down the street you live on to take a shortcut to Dixie's and as you pass your house you glance at it instinctively.

You slam on the breaks just past your driveway. "What the fuck?" You put the car in park and squint at your darkened front door, or lack thereof. The door is open, gone by the looks of it.

"Don't get out of the car." Shawn warns, flipping the lock button. "Someone could still be in there. Call the cops and back up out of sight."

You fumble with your phone and put it up to your ear. You report the break in and your street name. As soon as you're done you reverse down the street until you're a few houses away.

Shawn reaches over and lays his hand on your shoulder. "Do you know anyone who might have done this?"

"No. I have no idea. I don't even have anything worth stealing!" You lean your head on the steering wheel. "I don't understand. Could this night get any worse?"

"Don't say that." Shawn rubs up and down your back. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find out what's going on."

"What if I had gone home from Dixie's? What if I didn't come pick you up?" You look at the darkened house. "What if I was there?"

"You weren't. That's what matters. Look," he points to a police car coming down the street. "Here comes the cops."

"Will you go in with me?"

"Of course. You think I'm gonna just stay in the car?" Shawn grabs your hand and kisses it gently. "Come on, let's go talk to the cops."

An hour later and you've filed a full report with Officer Jones. There was nothing stolen as far as you can see. The house is fine, completely in order except for your room. Your dresser had been torn through and your closet emptied out, bed sheets and blankets torn apart too. You have absolutely no idea what someone was looking for and Officer Jones kept asking if you were completely sure you didn't know who could have done this.

It's nearly five in the morning and you are exhausted. The sun is coming up and the sky outside is getting brighter by the minute. You need to sleep and you don't feel safe in your house with the door broken and your bedroom torn apart.

"Grab some clothes, I'm gonna take you to my place." Shawn says, walking around your mess of a bedroom. "We'll take care of the broken door frame and stuff later."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Come on. I know we're both exhausted so I'll drive and we'll pick up my truck tomorrow. We need to rest, it's been a long night."

You grab a tote bag from your closet and throw a few shirts and jeans in it with some underwear. "I could stay with Jodi."

"I really would feel better if you stayed with me." Shawn takes the bag from you as you grab a pair of shoes and socks by the dresser. "Are you okay with it?"

"Of course Shawn." You join him by the door and lay your hand on his shoulder. "I trust you. We'll go to your place. If you want to take that stuff to the car I'm going to grab my camera gear. I told Harlow I'd start doing photos tomo- today." You sigh. "Well, I'll try and get everything set up after we get a few hours of sleep."

"I'm sure she'll understand." He rubs your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. You're absolutely at your limit, body ready to collapse on the next available soft surface. "I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."

"I won't."

_____________________

When you wake up you have no idea what time it is. Shawn's room is bright and you look around for some hint that he is there. He had insisted you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. His bed smells so good, like fresh laundry and his cologne. Warm and spicy, it is absolutely perfect. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's just after noon. There are three missed texts.

Harlow: are you coming by to do the shoot today?

Shawn: I'll be at the gym, take it easy and help yourself to the fridge.

Harlow: nvm please rest I talked to Shawn

You close your eyes and flop back onto the pillows. You promised Harlow you'd be by to take some photos, at least some of the ones for the gym website. You turn over and curl up with Shawn's spare pillow, pressing your face into while opening Shawn's text to reply.

You: is Harlow mad I didn't make it?

Shawn: no. I explained the situation and she's more worried about you than anything

You: tell her I can still make it in to set up at least

Shawn: okay. If u are coming by bring me an extra shirt? I forgot to bring one for post workout.

You: okay no prob.

You glance over at his dresser and then back to the window opposite you that over looks the tree line behind his house. It looks like a nice day, it'd be a shame to waste it but you aren't feeling like going out. You just want to stay curled up in his bed forever. Yesterday was so draining with everything that happened and you don't know how much you can handle without snapping at someone. Rest had definitely helped but you still feel uneasy about the break in. It just seemed so targeted like Officer Jones said, but you can't imagine what someone would want from you.

Eventually you get up and make your way down stairs to the kitchen. Shawn's place is beautiful, it truly is. It's very much like a modern cabin and you're not surprised since it's just outside of town in the woods. He's got a few neighbors but it's not like a usual neighborhood setting.

You grab a protein bar from what you assume was once a fruit basket. It looks good enough and you grab your purse from the living room, stuffing one of Shawn's tees into it before you head out. You pause, looking down at the white shirt hanging out of your purse. You go back into the bedroom and take a blue shirt from Shawn's dresser before stripping off your top and pulling the white tee on over your head. It's a little big but it fits well enough and you smile to yourself in his mirror. You grab your purse and head for the front door.

The drive into town is quiet, a little long, but it's nice. It's one long road that winds around the woods in a circle and then turns out on to Main St that you take all the way into town. It's basically a cul-de-sac but in the woods. The whole time you wonder if you should stop by the house and check on it, or if you should call Officer Jones and see if they have anything to go off of. You're really banking on one of your neighbor's having a security camera or something that spotted the intruder. Though your street is so dark at night it's hard to see anything anywhere.

You turn into the lot behind Harlow's and park beside Jodi's Jeep. You unload your backdrops and stands, carrying everything in the back door. You're met with Connor whos grabbing some tape for a mat from the storage room and he offers to help.

"Look who I found," Connor announces as you walk out onto the gym floor with all your stuff in hand.

Shawn walks over from boxing with a stand up bag. "Hey darling," he takes your camera bag and stand case. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes." You smile softly. "Your bed is very comfortable."

"I'm glad." He rests his hand on your lower back. "Is this my shirt?"

"Maybe."

He grins and kisses your cheek. "It's all yours now. Looks good on you anyway. Any word from Officer Jones?"

"Not yet. I'm sure he'll call tonight or tomorrow."

"You can stay at my place as long as you need to."

You stand up on your toes a bit and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"Alright love birds break it up." Jodi says loudly, clapping at the two of you. "Before you start getting set up I wanna talk to you about what happened, I need to know who I'm going to skin alive."

"We don't know anything yet Jodi." Shawn says with an eye roll. "I told you that."

Jodi snorts. "I'm still going to kick someone's ass."

"I promise I'll let you know who to hunt when we hear back from the police." You say softly and Shawn gives you another kiss on the head before heading back over to the cage with Connor. Jodi puts her arm around you and the two of you head to the backroom that isn't full of old equipment to set up your camera.

_____________________

Photos go well, you manage to get all the guys done in a few hours. You'll go home later and look them over to decide if you need to reshoot anything. But for now you are finished and starting to pack up.

"Hey, you forgot one."

You turn and look at Shawn standing in the doorway to the backroom where you're set up. "I did?"  

"Yeah. Me." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "I thought you couldn't wait to get photos of me."

"Well, I figured I could get them any time."

"Oh? You think I'll pose for you whenever you like?"

You smirk. "You might, but I want to take candids of you."

Shawn wraps his arms around you and you lean back into his chest. "Candids huh?" He noses against your ear, hand going over your stomach. "Like private candids of me in my bed, laid out on the sheets holding my-"

"Shawn!"

He chuckles deeply and you can feel your body get warm, heat pooling between your legs. "Is that not what you want?"

You turn around in his hold and run a hand over his hair. "I want so much more from you then a couple of photos."

"Yeah? Tell me what you want."

"Oh you know...all the good stuff."

"The good stuff?" He walks you back against the backdrop and you bring his head down, foreheads rolling together. "This kind of good stuff?" He asks lowly before he kisses you softly.

"I know why you came in here." You whisper between kisses, hands going up and down his back. "You're jealous."

He lets out a growl as he kisses along your jaw. "You think I'm jealous of my fighters?"

"Your fighters hmm?"

"Mmm. I'm partnered with Harlow." He pulls back to look down at you. "I own the gym with her. I thought you knew?"

"No, I had no idea. She seems so bossy and it's called Harlow's so..."

Shawn plays with the ends of your hair, twisting his finger around bits of it. "She already had the place, I just bought in with championship winnings to keep it open. She runs the business side with Jodi and I run the gym floor as you can tell."

"Wow. So Connor and the other guys in the circuit this season is a huge deal for you."

"Yeah. A win from one of them could mean we expand Harlow's, new equipment, more fighters. With four guys going this year we have a good chance, and with Connor, we have the odds in our favor, I think."

You grin and shake your head. "Our first kiss and here we are talking business. Y'know if you were anyone else I'd have left by now."

"But I'm not anyone else." He leans in and bumps his nose to yours. "I'm special huh?"

"Oh you're special alright."

Shawn gives you one more kiss before he laughs and pulls back. "Let me make it up to you. I told Connor I'd go to dinner with him at Dixie's to talk about his first fight and what to expect. We can go a little early and have some time to ourselves first. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a date."

"Oh it's not necessarily a date, but it could be."

You smile and he just holds your hips looking down at you. "Come on, enough staring like weirdos. I'm hungry."

____________________

Dixie's is packed when you arrive but you manage to get a table near the bar that's a small two seater. You see Carrie running around like a mad woman and two of the day time waitresses are running around behind her. The place is popular this time of year with fighters and their crews moving into town and nearby during the first part of the western circuit. That's what Carrie told you anyway during her briefing on what to expect and how she deals with the increased number of fights during this time of year.  

"Is that Connor?" Shawn asks, pointing to a table behind you. "What's he doing here so- oh I see."

You turn and look over at where Shawn is pointing to a corner table where Connor is and leaning on the table in her work clothes is Sammy. You smirk, it's about time they talked. Sammy has been eyeing Connor for weeks but she's hesitant because he's a fighter and she knows what the lifestyle entails.

“They’re kids, leave 'em be.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sammy is a good girl. I’m not worried about it.”

“She is. She also knows what it’s like to live with fighters. She told me her brother was a fighter.” You shake your head. “I think she said he went north to try for the canadian championship but he didn't win and ended up settling down up there”

“I knew her brother Devin, we fought a few times.” Shawn smiles over his drink. “The guy was really good, he gave me a run for my money.”

“Oh yeah? Did he train at Harlow’s?”

“No, no it was way before then. When I was nineteen he was twenty one, we went a few rounds in my first championship entry. I didn’t win that year, I got too cocky and big headed. He was a tough dude though, if Sammy is anything like him she’ll keep Connor in his place.”

You chuckle. “Sammy is very shy, I’m not sure she’s like her brother at all.”

“The shy ones are the ones you gotta watch out for.” Shawn smirks and you roll your eyes.

"Anyways, you said I could stay at your place again?"

"Mmhmm." Shawn smiles and chews on his straw. "I definitely don't mind."

"Good. I'm nervous about going home until we find out more from the police. It's feels like such a personal attack since they went through just my bedroom and didn't even take anything." You shake your head and lean you chin on your hand on the table. "They didn't even take jewelry. Someone wanted something from me."

"Maybe they thought it was someone else who lived there?"

"I don't know. I hope there is video footage from one of the neighbors that shows us something."

"They're gonna check with the neighbors for you?"

"Yeah, Officer Jones called while I was photographing Gauge. He said they're gonna canvas the area, ask for surveillance from anyone nearby and see if they can't get a suspect or even a car or something."

Shawn leans back and crosses his arms. "Y'know I was actually thinking, do you think it could be Tate? I didn't want to say something about him to the cops but is there something you have of his?"

You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't thought of Tate being a suspect. Hell, you were two states away from him now and it's been months since the break up. "I don't think I have anything. I gave him everything back, all his clothes and anything he ever bought me. I left it all in a box in our apartment."

"It was just a thought."

"No, it's a good one. He is crazy enough to do something like that." You roll your eyes and flag down Carrie to pay for your drinks. "Maybe I can call him, or I could try his sister Maggie."

"I'd try Maggie if you have a good relationship with her. If it was him he probably won't want to talk to you."

Carrie stops by the table and hands you your bill. "Have you seen Sammy?"

"She's over there with..." You look around for her and Connor but neither are at the table in the corner anymore. "Well she was here. Is she working tonight?"

"Yeah. Her shift starts in five minutes." Carrie takes your cash and you wave her off for change. "You say you seen her?"

Shawn chuckles. "She was with Connor."

"The fighter?"

"Yeah, my champ." Shawn stands and gives you a look and you nod, letting him know you don't mind if he goes looking for the two of them. "I think I know where they are."

Carrie raises her eyebrows. "Well if you find her, tell her to get her ass to work."

"Yes ma'am." Shawn smiles. "See you at the house." He squeezes your shoulder and heads for the front door.

A minute later Sammy comes walking in very flushed and you can't help but smile to yourself. She's got a flower tucked into her hair and you think her and Connor must have been sitting out on the patio since the flower is definitely from the pots out there.  

____________________

You get to Shawn's place a little after eight. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's there. The sun is starting to go down and you are tired from working on photos and stress from the break in. Your brain is absolutely taxed. All you want is some dinner and a soft bed. You turn the handle to the door and walk into music blasting from the kitchen. It's some eighties hair band and you chuckle to yourself as you walk across the living room to find Shawn around the corner shadow boxing at the stove shirtless.

"What's for dinner?" You laughs and he looks back around with a grin. "Smells good!"

Shawn turns and shuts off the music on his phone. "It's chili. I figured it's pretty easy to throw together since I got home just a few minutes ago."

"Why not order something?"

"Eh, I like homemade." He stirs the pot around. "I haven't had it in a while, I thought it'd be nice."

You walk around the island and take a look into the pot. It's not chili. Well, it is, but it's not what you were expecting. "What kind of chili is this?"

"Chili Verde. My dad's recipe. Wanna taste?" He spoons some out to cool in a little bowl on the counter.  "I promise it's good."

You smile. "I'm sure it's very good. What's in it?"

"Pork, onions, green chilies. I cheated and used a bottle of premade chili verde salsa for a starter since I don't have time to stew tomatillos and green chilies for hours." He spoons some up for you and you take a bite. "Good yeah?"

"Hot." You cover your mouth. "It's kinda spicy but I like it. It's good."

Shawn beams and scoops out two bowls to cool. "I'll finish getting dinner ready, go change and relax."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for making me dinner."

"Of course." He kisses your nose and your heart skips. "Go on."

Post dinner you're sitting on the couch with Shawn watching some ghost hunter show. He's got his arm around your shoulders and you're tucked into his side snugly. It's comfortable, being with Shawn feels incredibly natural. He's warm and safe.

"What're you doing next Sunday?" Shawn asks as he tucks his feet against yours where your legs are outstretched on the ottoman. "I was thinking if you're available we could go out."

"I work the late shift but I can see if one of the guys can cover for me."

"I don't want you to miss work. We can go another day."

"No, I want to go. It'll be a nice escape from the stress around here." You run your hand down his forearm and slide your hand into his. "Are we going to go horseback riding again?"

Shawn squeezes your hand. "Nope. I have another idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling." He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him. "I can surprise you again can't I? It's more fun that way."

"I'd like to see what tops horseback riding."

"I have a few ideas. Don't worry." He glances at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. "I should go to bed, I have a seven o'clock session with Jack tomorrow." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Do you mind if I take the bed?"

"Nope. I don't mind sharing."

"Sharing? You're ready for that?"

You push off of him and stand up, putting your hand out to him. "I'm ready for anything with you."

He takes your hand and stands, pulling you against him. "Anything huh?" He runs a hand over your hair. "Falling a little fast aren't we?"

"I don't mind." You wrap your arms around his middle. "We work well together. I've never felt this comfortable and free around someone before."

He hums. "It feels natural. I completely understand."

You scratch at his back gently and he smiles down at you. "Let's go to bed. You need to be up early."

"Mmm I could always reschedule if we wanted to stay up late." He runs his hand down your back and over your butt. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."

You shake your head and laugh. "No, you're not cancelling work because of me. We can sleep together any time."

"Well don't make it sound like we're an old married couple, jeez."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "Maybe it's good practice for the future."

"Wh- oh." He grins. "First kiss and you're planning our future all in one day? Damn."

"Oh shut up." You pull away and head to his bedroom. "Come on, chop chop. The bed awaits."

_____________________

You wake up in the middle of the night and you're freezing. It doesn't even feel like there is a heater on in the house. You roll towards Shawn and slide your arm around his middle, spooning him from behind. He shifts. A soft grunt followed by a mumble of incoherent sleep laden words. He's like a furnace, body radiating into yours.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm." You press a kiss to his hair. "All good now."

"I missed this." He places his hand over yours on his chest. His heart beats in time with yours, a cadence of comfort in the night. "I missed being held."

"It's been a while?" 

"A long while. I didn't like to date when I fought. I only wanted to focus on my work." He chuffs. "I'd deprive myself to be the best. Stupid huh?" 

"No. You thought it'd help. It must have, you did win." You flex your fingers against his skin, blunt nails scratching him lightly. "Do you like being the little spoon?" 

"Love it. There's something about having someone smaller than you curled up and wrapped around you that I just love. I do like being the big spoon too, but I really enjoy being held sometimes." 

"I'll hold you any time." You give him a squeeze and he tangles his legs with yours. "You're like a big teddy bear."

He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and the beating of his heart under your fingertips. 

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

End Part 1

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

Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be out sometime in the future as I have to write the ending still, but it’ll be another 13k at least. Thank you all again.  - A

#stories #fighter trope

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen headcanon: Seventeen as mall workers

a/n: I’ve always lowkey wanted to do some sort of mall series but never actually had a solid plot so we gonna just do this instead. and Pentagon will be mentioned bc I wanna do one for them and I want them all to work in the same mall and no one can stop me 😤

-

Choi Seungcheol

currently works at GameStop

he quit his job at GNC a few months ago because he decided he hates working out

while he hates having to restock things or go into the back for stuff, he at least likes video games

definitely not the dude you want to end up yelling at on the phone

there have been so many times he’s had to give the phone off to Wonwoo or another co-worker because he would definitely lose his job

too high of a temper to work at GameStop tbh

but he knows what he’s talking about, so

has definitely recommended you games even before he worked in there

you’d just happen to be in there when he was and he’d notice you looking between two games and he’d tell you which one was better suited for you after asking what you normally play/what you like

now that he works there, he always puts in his two cents and will give you his discount on top of your own

-

Yoon Jeonghan

the current manager at Starbucks

he used to be the manager at American Eagle but he hated working there because retail sucks

unfortunately, the only other job he could snag was in -- you guessed it -- still retail

but at least he gets yelled at slightly less in Starbucks

and it’s probably only because he makes everyone else do things for him so he doesn’t have to

will take his sweet ass time making a drink

refuses to work the register

would rather stay off toward the back and make the drinks than deal with the people

always says he’s too busy to do things because he’s still training Yanan even though Yanan’s worked there longer than Jeonghan has

he’s also slightly salty at Yanan because he might be the better looking barista

one time he asked you if him or Yanan was cuter and you said him so he gave you your drink for free

refers to you as his “favorite customer”

-

Joshua Hong

works at Guitar Center

between him, Jihoon, and Jinho, he probably knows the least about instruments

pretty much only knows guitar things

but all he does is sit at the counter and play the guitar and sing

you are literally the only person who likes hearing him sing Sunday Morning

Jihoon told him to stop before he smashed the guitar over his head but you were in the store to kill time before your break ended and you said you were enjoying it

so Josh smirked and continued while Jihoon rolled his eyes

“’customer’s always right’ my ass...”

whenever you come in or he sees you walk by he’ll be like “got any requests?”

has offered to give you guitar lessons but you're always busy with work so you say “maybe another time”

but he continues to ask

-

Wen Junhui

works at the pet store downstairs

there hasn’t been a single time you’ve gone in there or walked past there and he wasn’t holding an animal in his arms

loves all the animals

also makes animal noises at the animals but it’s weird because he actually sounds like the animals

notices you come in to play with the animals during your break so now he always tries to get you to bring one home

“it’s not for the business, I just want them to find homes”

once got yelled at for actually getting in one of the puppy pens to play with them

-

Kwon Soonyoung

currently works at Hot Topic

the only reason being that store could not give less of a hell what goes on

he’s been fired from literally every other place at the mall

got fired from Starbucks for drinking too much coffee and shaking so badly all the time that he would spill drinks

fired from Build-A-Bear for exploding a bear with stuffing and making a child cry

fired from Bath & Body Works for dropping candles and spraying perfume in a customer’s mouth on accident

dropped and broke a guitar at Guitar Center

basically his last hope was Hot Topic but if Wooseok can work there and do absolutely nothing, Soonyoung was safe working there

he does attempt to do his job, it’s just that when it comes to basically existing, he’s bad at it

knocks things over, trips on things, is the loudest thing in the store

but he’s friendly and he does his job so who can complain

-

Jeon Wonwoo

the manager at GameStop

the youngest one working there but he’s in charge

usually the one to deal with the shitty customers but Wonwoo is thankfully good at containing his anger

well, at least until he hangs up the phone or the person is gone

goes in the back to yell about it to whoever is back there, even if they’re listening or not

Shinwon and Seungcheol give him a hard time for being the manager and always laugh and go “glad we’re not you!”

but he does love his job because he gets to work with video games

lowkey not very good with the girls who ask him for help though

gets blushy and can’t look them in the eyes

actually he’s really shy with people in general so tbh he’s always somewhat flustered

but he’s always feels happy when he helps someone find a new game or something so he likes his job

he’s usually the one who checks you out at the register and he’s the one who signed you up for a rewards card because you were in there so often

you don’t know this but before the rewards card, he would just give you his discount because you were literally always getting games or stuffed animals or pop figures from there

-

Lee Jihoon

the manager at Guitar Center

again, the youngest at his store, but the one in charge

his assistant manager, Jinho is slightly angry about it

but Jihoon knows everything about everything

any instrument you need fixed or need info on, he’s your guy

he comes off as very serious and not too friendly, but if you make him crack a smile, he suddenly seems super approachable

if he sees you having lunch at the food court when he’s on his break, he joins you sometimes

“you don’t give me a headache”

you assume that’s a compliment

some customers don’t take him seriously because they’re rude and assume he’s “a child”

but of course he schools their asses in his knowledge of instruments, so

sometimes his work is so satisfying lmao

-

Lee Seokmin

works at Bubble Bee

between him and Kino, it’s no wonder they get a lot of business

they’re both so cute and sweet and smiley

there was a short period of time where Soonyoung worked there and tbh those two were a mess

suddenly they only shared one braincell and poor Kino was stuck cleaning up their messes

but Seokmin and Kino work well together

not to mention Seok looks really adorable in the uniforms

always makes really good bubble tea

likes when the straw color matches the color of the drink though

you’ve never spoken to him much but he’s always smiling and cracking jokes and tbh you’re soft for him

-

Kim Mingyu

he was hired at GNC like, a month ago

he used to work at Starbucks but he got fired

because even though he made good coffee, the poor big idiot is clumsy as hell and kept spilling things and dropping things and knocking things over

Hongseok and Matthew knew him sorta so Matthew decided to hire him

he doesn’t really know what he’s doing but it’s fine

Hongseok’s training him while Matthew does most of the work since he’s manager

people started calling them the Big Tiddy Committee which you think is kinda funny

he’s usually in there when you go in to hang out with Hongseok and he’s really sweet

a lil dumb, but sweet

-

Xu Minghao

works at Lush

he originally planned to work at Sephora because he’s good with like, fashion and stuff

but he didn’t feel like dealing with that and Lush seemed less...annoying

he does seem kinda quiet and a little cold at first because he doesn’t really smile a whole lot except when politely greeting someone

but it’s easy to make him laugh

and he has a cute laugh and a really pretty smile

so when you first went in there to get a bath bomb and he asked if you needed help, you were really tempted to just say you were just looking

but you let him help and you got to talking and Minghao was really sweet

sometimes he has lunch with you, too because you just like talking to him

you found out he’s friends with Jun from the pet store and Yanan from Starbucks

it seems like a weird group of friends but hey, you also thought Minghao was a lot colder than he turned out to be

he always texts you when your favorite items are in stock and he may or may not use his discount and set them aside for you to pick up

“cash app me later it’s fine”

-

Boo Seungkwan

works at Sephora

he really wants to do makeovers but he’s not allowed to lmao

mostly just works the register and like lowkey judges everyone’s makeup

he will hype the hell out of you if he thinks you did something well

“your eyeliner is insanely sharp, oh my god”

“your eye shadow is beautiful!”

“that lipstick color looks so good with your skin tone”

has no frickin idea what to do with his discount because he doesn’t wear makeup

you once went in there and asked him for help and he just blinked at you and went “okay, let me find someone who knows what they’re doing”

at least he’s honest

-

Chwe Hansol

works at FYE

makes playlists to play at work in the store

literally just always vibing

the chillest worker in the entire mall tbh

one time he helped his manager, Hui make you a mixtape because you were looking for new music

so then he got interested and started talking to you as well about music

at this point, you’re going to befriend the whole store

looks like he doesn’t do much because he’s usually sitting at the counter and vibing

but he loves helping out customers and picking out music for them or fining things for them

he just loves to help out and talk about music

-

Lee Chan

works at American Eagle

when you see him in those jeans, you get it

he’s like a walking billboard because damn he looks r e a l n i c e

usually working the sales floor so folding and getting things from the back if someone can’t find a size

doesn’t work the register too often

so whenever you go in, he’s usually who greets you at the door with his beautiful smile

honestly he just looks like he should be working at that kind of store y’know? he fits

he doesn’t mind the job even though Jeonghan couldn’t stand it

despite that, he still is human and understand that shit is expensive

and since he recognizes you as a fellow mall worker, he sometimes goes up to the store you work at and let’s you know when they’re having special sales and stuff

#seventeen #seventeen heacanon #seventeen au #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagine #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #junhui #soonyoung #hoshi #wonwoo #jihoon #woozi #seokmin #dokyeom #dk #mingyu #minghao #the8 #seungkwan #hansol #vernon #chan #dino

[paullicino]

Point Roberts

Taken from and generously funded by my Patreon.

“Who else is doing a landing?” asked the customs officer. Someone put their hand up as well as me. Someone else had just had their documents completed. Another person responded affirmatively to every single question asked, including the one about landing, because she was either confused or just wanted to beat the queue.

There wasn’t much of a queue to beat. The waiting room of the border crossing was the size of a living room. On the other side of a broad counter, half a dozen Canadian immigration officers sat around desks, quietly typing away as if they were doing any other job in the world.

* * *

A landing is a formal arrival in Canada. It marks your change of immigration status. Of course, to arrive in Canada, a person must first be outside of Canada. Fortunately, even though Canada is the second-largest country in the world, I was pretty near the edge of it.

I was near a  very weird edge of it.

But before I tell you about Point Roberts, I should probably tell you about the corner of British Columbia called the Lower Mainland. Vancouver and its surrounding settlements are all within twenty miles of the United States, making a trip to a different country a very quick, even spontaneous affair. If you’re a Canadian, you can even cross this border without being photographed, fingerprinted or interviewed. Then, suddenly, you’re in the land of Different.

And the land of Different presents all sorts of possibilities, possibilities with substantial economic considerations. Gasoline is much cheaper. Electronics often are, too. International shipping and distribution are no longer relevant, as you become the importer of your own goods. And, in Washington State, firearms are readily available and long guns can be bought by American citizens without need of any permit, or by “non-immigrant aliens” if they spend a hundred and fifty dollars getting a state ID, a hunting license and an Alien Firearms License.

If I stayed in Washington State and got those documents could buy this Barratt rifle that takes bullets half an inch in diameter and which can hit targets almost two miles away. I just called the gun shop to check. They said yes.

The economic pull of the United States pulls Lower Mainlanders south a lot. They order packages to special shipping centers just across the border, then rush back with them. They fill up their cars. They head to shopping malls and department stores. They find everything that’s Different.

This can sometimes create weird problems for distribution. Why even bother to try to sell your product in the Lower Mainland when so many of the customers there are going to come to your country to get it? Why even ship it?

Americans are  pulled the other way by the relative strength of their dollar. Right now, those dollars stretch 33% further. They drive up to eat, to camp, to study and to buy medications, including insulin. For someone in Seattle, it’s an easy day trip. For someone closer, it’s barely an afternoon.

As a European, I know that there’s a different version of this strange symbiosis in so many places. Scandinavia has its jokes about who is buying alcohol from which country. British travellers head to France for cheap wine and cigarettes. Italy and France... argue about fashion.

Weird things happen at borders. Weird things. It’s a weird thing to divide the world so arbitrarily and it creates weird behaviours. You walk a short distance and reality is suddenly different. Or you are different. Or both.

* * *

All this contributes to Point Roberts being a weird, weird corner of the world. History is geography, particularly if Britain is involved and, in a classically British move, the Oregon Treaty of 1846 drew a big and broad line across western North America at the 49th Parallel. It divided the continent between the UK and the US. Broad strokes are rarely wise and not only were there some subsequent arguments over who owned which islands (during which a pig was tragically killed), there was also the issue of a piece of land two miles long, jutting south out of Canada.

It’s ours, said the United States. We’re keeping it. They filled it up with soldiers and it became a stopping-off point for travellers headed elsewhere. It would be a little over fifty years before settlers had permission to make their homes there and then the 20th Century would see a gradual influx of immigrants from… Canada.

Point Roberts is full of Canadians. Not completely, but significantly. They own holiday homes. They own boats. They are visiting to collect packages. They are visiting to buy gasoline. They are visiting for the summer. Meanwhile, the Americans there have no hospital, no dentist, no public transport and no high school. They have a lighthouse. They have an airfield. They have a single border crossing through which all traffic must come and go. They assume you’ll have a car.

I walked across it, but not before a man on a bicycle beat me to it, pedalling off into the United States to never be seen again. A sign told pedestrians to follow little painted footprints up to an office door and a man inside asked why I was visiting his country. I had to tell him that I wasn’t and to kick me out.

* * *

Flagpoling is the act of leaving Canada and returning to validate a new visa or, in my case, Permanent Residence documents. I could, in theory, also book an appointment somewhere in Canada to validate my documents but the waiting time for this is long and if you want to be seen within sixty days you must classify as urgent.

People flagpole at the US border all the time. They flagpole at Peace Arch, the fancy monument between British Columbia and Washington. They flagpole at Niagara Falls. They flagpole at Lewiston, Ontario or Sault Ste Marie.

The thing is, all those border crossings are busy. They’re full of tourists and travellers and guards and security. In Point Roberts, one bored man in an office stamped my passport, gave it back to me and told me to walk back around the small building he worked in to the other small building that the Canadians worked in. His colleagues talked about a party that was happening later.

I looked south. A long, bare road ran all the way down to the sea. There were no barriers anywhere. I could just… walk off. The man continued to be bored. Do you need to escort me, I asked him?

“Do you need to be escorted?” he asked. “Are you a danger?”

I walked out. I was in the United States and there was nothing between me and the rest of it. There was, I guess, a chance for the bored man to pursue me if I dashed south. There was also only two miles of land for me to flee too. The range of a high caliber rifle round.

There were hardly any cars. There were hardly any people. There was hardly any anything, just like there never has been.

* * *

I re-entered the United States later that day and I can tell you that Point Roberts has a thousand residents, three places to eat, a couple of gas stations, no sidewalks and a shitty fisherman statue that looks like a budget Gandalf. Most license plates I saw were Canadian. The most developed and impressive structure is a marina. There were hardly any shops. There were hardly any facilities. There was hardly any anything, not even that cyclist, just roads leading into trees and quiet, sleeping houses.

A few more of those are being built. I bet they’ll be sold to Canadians.

While I was there, the sun went down. It plunged into the Pacific and the sky was all dark grey clouds and the distant yellow mottling of tankers, ferries and island towns. I saw a working lighthouse, which I have never before seen in my life, and I discovered it was little more than scaffolding and a lamp. I didn’t care. I’d never seen a lighthouse in person before.

I’d been sick that morning. I hadn’t slept much because I had been expecting to go to Point Roberts, which I’d never done before, to flagpole, which I’d never done before, then hopefully complete my Permanent Residence process, which I’d never done before. When I’d started that process, I was told it might take as little as six to nine months. It had been more than two years and I had received two rejection letters, as well as an email from my lawyer saying this was a big mistake.

My mind had turned everything over and then my stomach had decided to do that, too.

* * *

But as I had crossed straight back into Canada after that flagpoling, nothing at all was happening. Everyone, everywhere was bored. A Canadian border guard asked my why I was entering his country. He scribbled “PR” on a slip of yellow paper that was mostly full of questions about what firearms I might have, maybe which states they were from or what licenses I held.

British Columbia is weird not only because of its ongoing economic symbiosis with Washington State, nor because of the curious exclave of Point Roberts, but also because it cuts off Alaska from the rest of the US. A lot of people like to hunt in Alaska. A lot of people try to bring their guns from other parts of the United States into Alaska through British Columbia. British Columbia doesn’t really like this but it does allow it if those guns and their method of transport fit very, very specific criteria.

It’s the complete opposite to asking for ninety days residence and a twenty dollar hunting license.

Once again, I could apparently have just walked off, back into Canada, but instead I ended up in that living room-sized waiting area. A family sat to my left. Someone who did nothing but read a book the entire time sat to my right. A picture of the Queen of England was mounted dead ahead. That probably wasn’t necessary.

The officer asking who else was landing left the room and she was replaced by a grumpy man who called me up. I showed him what documents I had and he asked me what visa I had with me. I listed the items I’d been posted.

“I can see what you have,” he said. “I don’t need you to tell me what I can already see.” But I didn’t have anything else. Nobody had issued me anything the last time I’d entered Canada and nobody had really cared after hearing that I was waiting for these Permanent Residence documents to arrive, the ones I was laying out now.

The grumpy man made me sign and initial my papers, stating that I hadn’t suddenly committed crimes and forgotten to tell them or got married and forgotten to tell them or had children and forgotten to tell them and yes yes everything was spelled correctly. He took the papers away and joined the other people who were typing quietly at their desks.

A balding man walking in and asked everyone in the room if they’d been seen by an officer. Everyone said yes. “You’re all waiting so patiently?” He asked. “Thank you!”

He walked out.

For some reason, I took a picture of myself. I took it to see if I was suddenly different, but found no signs of this. The Queen stared at me. I sat there in silence. There was no noise and no smell and no movement. I played Peggle nervously on my phone, because at the US border they don’t like you to have your phone out. Nobody here gave a damn. A large TV showed soundless sports recaps.

The grumpy man called my name. He had stapled one of my documents into my passport on what was the shonkiest, most ramshackle way. It was infinitely folded. He had signed and dated it. I will never forget his name.

He gave me a piece of paper with numbers to call to register for health care and social security. My Permanent Resident card would be mailed to me and reach me hopefully two to three weeks after my landing date of September 21st, 2019.

I stood there.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked.

“Is that it?”

He looked up at the room. “Who’s next?”

#America #Canada #Permanent Residence #Point Roberts #weird borders #immigration

[queenlifesupport]

Like Its Yours (Ben x Joe x Y/N) #2

A/N: This is shitty and I apologize, the original part 2 deleted itself and I had to re-write it :) so here it is!! Hope you all enjoy!

PART ONE IF YOU MISSED IT!  WARNINGS : Sex again, Language, Unprotected Sex.  WORDS : 3,084 (might have typos because i’m a tired bitch)

"Never." He called back, I giggled slightly at his answer. He now stood at the doorway, a towel around his waist. "I'm being serious, stay for like a week." I was confused. We met yesterday, hooked up, and now he wants me to stay for a week? And I'm actually considering it.

"You've got to be joking. Why?"

"Why not? I really like you, I think we could have fun, and I can take care of you." He shrugged as if it was nothing. I was speechless at the thought of staying with, having nights like the one we just had. I will admit it doesn't sound too bad.

"Fuck it, why not." I was shocked at my own response, but it was the truth, fuck it.

"Amazing, but we do have to bring it up with my roommate." Shit his roommate, was he here all night?! Did he hear us? Oh god I hope not. "He won't care though, if anything he'll think you're cute and for sure want you to stay. He's been away visiting family anyways, he'll be in a good mood." He answered my question without me even needing to ask. Thank god. He stepped towards the circular bed that laid in front of a huge window that overlooked the sunny city.

"Hopefully he says yes." I shifted myself over so I left some more room for him to climb in. He allowed his towel to drop to the floor, accompanying me in the huge bed.

"You're gorgeous, especially in this light." I smiled, I was excited to try this out. He's been kind to me ever since I've gotten here, maybe he was luring me in to kill me, oh well, he was cute and interesting so it's worth it.

"When can we get my stuff?" We both laid on our sides facing each other and used our hands to support our head off the bed, the lighting in here was marvelous. The whole room glowed with natural light, everything about it felt happier. His eyes reminded me of an emerald stone that had just been found, a light layer of dirt along the edges reminding you of its purity, they were beautiful and took everything in you to not fall.

"We can go today if you really need to."

"Well - I need to get my work projects done, and extra clothes, along with the essentials like a toothbrush, etc."

"Quit your job, live here." That made me choke on my spit.

"Quit my job? Yeah right. I need to pay bills." He shrugged slightly once again. "Do you do this with all the girls you take home? Jump into major decisions the morning after fucking her brains out?" I took my bottom lip between my teeth as I gave him a little smirk. Damn he was cute.

"You're the first. You can have your own room if you'd like, or we can always share."

"I don't know why I'm actually considering this." I felt so weird. It was out of character to take someone to bed in the first night, beyond out of character to consider living with him. "How about a week at first, we can discuss further actions later."

"Sounds like a plan Miss Y/N. Still want to pick up your things?"

"We probably should."

We had just returned from the somber and boring base I call home, we assembled outfits for a wide range of events for we had no clue what was to come within our week. The loft was just as we had left it, the utensils and glass still laid on the kitchen floor, I knew we'd need to pick up the remains. Getting situated, I unpacked one of the two bags into the spare room, I attempted to push away the thoughts that tell me this is an absurd idea. I knew this was weird. My everyday life was boring, all I did was work until I had to take care of my needs, sleep, then do it all again. I needed to step out of character, and this was a huge step. A huge step is better than no step. Sighing as the last shirt was hung, I took the remaining bag to the bathroom in the hallway, overhearing the sound of Bens ringing phone in the kitchen. I ignored it, he was cleaning up in there so I knew he'd answer it on his own. The bathroom was well organized, I was suspecting clutter but to my surprise, most things were neatly packed away in the drawers. I left some of my things in the bag such as my makeup, perfume, and lotion, but neatly put away the rest. Emerging from the bathroom, Ben was about a foot away from the door but stopped when he saw me, clearing his throat.

"He's on his way from the airport, just so you know there's not much time." My heart skipped a beat, I just unpacked and prepared myself for a week, this could all easily be crushed. "Okay?" He tilted his head down slightly to peer at me through hooded eyes.

"Yeah, just let me get dressed." I had been wearing the same dress from last night since I had no change of clothes, but as of now I have extra outfits here so it wouldn't hurt to change into something more casual, and clean. This dress also smelled of alcohol, I would rather give off a different first impression.

"Mind if I join?" He winked playfully, all it did was give me thoughts of last night. I stepped up to him, pushing him in the chest playfully.

"You're gonna have to work harder than that." It was my turn to wink, I then went to the room in which I would stay.

"I didn't work too hard last night." I rolled my eyes.

Approximately 20 minutes passed since I've finished gathering myself together so I looked presentable, a bit of me was excited to meet Joe, who was highly talked about. I sat on the grey linen woven cushion that was coupled in front of the gas fire place in the living room of the flat, I ran my sweaty palms against my jeans in hopes to release any jitters. I heard the sound of keys jiggle against the metal doorknob, Ben was in the kitchen doing one final wipe down on the counter as Joe entered. Before he came to put his luggage down in the front room, he exchanged a quick hello with Ben, all I could do was sit there until he noticed me, he immediately did when he passed the couch.

"Uh - Hello?" His voice and face showed his confusion. I was expecting him to have an accent but he spoke like an American. Ben quickly came in to save me from the awkward situation, I had no idea what so say in response.

"Joe, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Joe, my roommate." Joe still looked at me confused, but now his eyes traveled me up and down before his face slightly rested. "You're probably wondering why she's here."

"Yeah, that's a good assumption." Joe laughed slightly, putting his hands to his sides, you could tell he was a little socially awkward, at least with me.

"This might sound crazy, but hear me out." Joe rolled his eyes with a smirk. I wonder if he was used to that sentence by now. "We met last night at the bar down the street, we talked for a few hours and she said she needed a place to stay for about a week because a pipe burst in her apartment. So being the kind gentlemen we are, I thought we could offer her a place to stay." Joe looked at Ben questionably. Both him and I knew that was bullshit, this was the result of a one night stand gone rouge. Joe looked like he was pondering the thought.

"Okay." Before grabbing his luggage, he shrugged slightly at our skeptical faces and then walked to the stairs and headed to what I supposed was his bedroom. Both Ben and I looked at each other, now it has been decided that this will happen, I will be staying with two strangers for a week. What the fuck.

"Hm - That was easy." He practically laughed out the sentence. I was still taking in the information.

"Well, what now?" Now that we had a week together, what to do was questionable. We could go to his room, we could continue last night. We can sit here and play a game. Go and make food. For now, I was almost a roommate so we could do anything. He looked around and licked his lips as his eyebrows furrowed.  

"Do you want to stay here or go out?" He now looked at me, making eye contact.

"Stay here, have you checked the weather?" He shook his head, now walking to a bookshelf that had what appeared to be board games.

"Mind if Joe joins us?" He looked back at me from a squatting position, holding a yellow box in his hand.

"Not at all."

We all sat near the leather ottoman, I placed myself on the floor, opposite from the couch Ben and Joe remained on. We were going to play Who In The Room but we settled on Never Have I Ever, but when you have done something, you're required to take a drink of the vodka in your cup.

"Okay, never have I ever gone to jail?" Joe talked cute, something about his voice was adorable. None of us took a drink, good thing to know I'm not in a room full of criminals.

"Never have I ever got fired from a job." Ben took a drink, I looked at him surprised. "Mister ambitious has gotten fired? How in the hell did that happen?" Joe chimed in after my question, apparently he's never heard the story either.

"Alright alright, I was working fast food and I absolutely hated it but I didn't want to say I quit. So I messed up every customers order and they eventually fired me."

"Weak." Joe practically read my mind.

"Well you guys aren't too interesting either. Also quit with the lame questions, never have I ever been the one tied up in bed." I slightly gulped, then took an embarrassed sip.

"Oh, so you're kinky? I can get on with that." Ben sent me a wink, what a dick.

"Whatever, it's Joes turn." I could feel my face beat bright red.

"Never have I ever hooked up with someone on the first night of meeting them." Well shit, both Ben and I took a drink at the same time, not daring to look at each other. The rest of the night was full of embarrassing questions and stories, and when we decided to end it, we were also pretty tipsy. Joe was really nice, I was surprised him and Ben were friends. Ben was also super cute, but very straight forward and gave off this confident atmosphere. Joe was gentler, it was hard to explain but I did like them both. In addition, Joe was hot too. It was around midnight and we all went to bed, I decided to sleep in a separate room tonight instead of with Ben because I didn't want Joe to suspect anything. I was afraid if he knew, he would kick me out. But Ben had an objection to this decision, of course, he kept saying that Joe wouldn't care.

"Come on, just come to my room for like an hour." Ben held my hips close to him while whispering in my ear, Joe was already upstairs but I was paranoid he'd walk into the hall and find me pinned against the wall, a hot mess.

"Ben, I told you not tonight." My small laugh probably convinced him otherwise. He pulled away to look at me. "Don't give me puppy dog eyes." He then proceeded to give me puppy dog eyes.

"We don't even have to have sex, I just want you there." After many 'pleases', he persuaded me to go with him. I had to admit, I was glad I was here. Since I got here, I've been treated amazingly. Once we entered his room and silently closed the door, we both crawled into the soft and slightly cold bed after we got undressed. "I enjoy having you around, and I can tell he does too." All was quiet but the hushed traffic outside.

"I enjoy being here." All I could imagine was what tomorrow would bring.

The sun blazed through the window, reflecting off the white decor in the room, which caused me to open my eyes. I didn't expect to fall asleep here, but looking back to last night, it was so warm in his embrace, even now I could fall asleep and drift away again. I could hear the man's light snores cuddled behind me, his strong arm was securely draped around my waist and brought a sense of security and bliss. I yawned, arching my back slightly, my eyes slightly widening when I felt a bulge against my ass.

"Ben?" I cleared my throat before talking, a slight grumble came from his mouth. "Ben."

"What?" He removed his arm in order to rub his eyes lazily.

"I think you have something you need to take care of." A confused hum came from his mouth, I laughed just a tiny bit before wiggling my ass. He groaned before holding my hips down.

"Don't." I felt the bed shift as he stood up to leave to the bathroom, I rose with him, following him to the destination. He placed himself in front of the mirror, running a hand through his hair. I stood near the doorway, leaning against the doorframe while looking at him. "I was thinking we could just chill out today, watch tv, I have fifa and stuff." Something about the sight of him was driving me slightly insane, his hair was messy, his budge poking through his boxers, his bare chest. I just want his head between my thighs again.

"I have a better idea on how we can start off this morning." I couldn't help but look him up and down, he was a piece of art. He smirked back at me, approaching me now.

"You're gonna have to work harder than that." He shot me a wink before grabbing his phone and sitting at the edge of the bed. My blood slightly boiled at him using my words against me from yesterday. I crossed my arms, again following him. I had a better idea. I stood in front of him, bending down to sit on my knees, getting comfortable in front of him, he peered at me from behind his phone screen, in response I gave him an innocent smile. Although he continued to look at me suspiciously, I decided to continue with my plan. I used my hand to softy massage his thigh. I could see his jaw clench, it only made me wetter. "Y/N, what are you doing?"

"Nothing Sir." I batted my eyelashes at him, moving my hand closer to the clear boner he had.

"Princess, I don't think you want to do that." He finally put his phone down, paying full attention to me.

"The beneficial thing about me being here is I can fuck you all the time." I moved my hand to his covered bulge. Rubbing it through the fabric, he reclined onto his extended arms. I grinned up at him, pulling down the hem of his bottoms, giving me access. I scooted nearer, inclining forward, letting my back curve as my face was inches from his dick. I utilized one hand to hold myself off the floor, and took the other one to give him a couple of strokes before I used my tongue to lick his delicate tip. His head tossed back, groaning unobtrusively. I kept on gazing toward him through hooded eyes, teasing him by just licking the top. My hand wrapped immovably around his shaft, pumping it in a synchronized pace. I felt one of his hands take a fistful of my hair, pushing my head down. He filled the vast majority of my mouth, I still used my hand to pump whatever I couldn't fit. He left his hand in my hair, directing my head in a bobbing motion, every so often pushing down as far as I could go, holding it for a few seconds before allowing me to come up.

"Stand up." He released his grip from my hair and waited for me to remove my suction. I slipped off, I didn't bother to wipe the droll off my chin. I stood, keeping eye contact with him. He used his hands to pull my panties down and pull me near. He scooted more on the bed, leaving room for my knees on the edge. I hooked my arm around his neck and used my free hand to guide him into me. I sank into his lap, feeling him inside me again was a consolation. He sat up, his hands laid on my hips, bouncing me slightly up and down. I attempted to not moan, biting into his shoulder as he continuously hit my g-spot.

"Fuck - Sir, right there." I quietly squealed out earning a grunt like chuckle. In the midst of pleasure, the sound of the door could be heard opening behind me. Ben cursed loudly before using his hands to cover whatever he could of my ass.

"I should probably knock next time." I scrunched my face at Joes voice, I knew this would fucking happen.

"Well - um, mate could you like leave so we can get decent?" Ben cleared his throat, also obviously embarrassed.

"Before I go, I wanted to let you know I wanted to talk you."

"We'll be out in a sec." I used my hand to cover my face although no one could see, this is the worst thing ever.

"No, just you." He began to shut the door before it opened it fully again. "Also, good morning Y/N. Hope you slept well." Then the door closed.

"Oh god." I laughed into his chest, still bright red from the interaction.

"I did not expect that to happen, maybe we should lock the door next time?" We both stood up, getting dressed, clearly still embarrassed. "Stay here as I go talk to him. Alright?"

{ TAG LIST // @glitter-rian // @fixedonroger // @lovingbenhardy // @bemywiggins // @vampire-way // @brianrogerinas // @16wiishes // @theonlyone-meeeee // @g-g-g-ghost-butt // @oxuminaa }

#ben hardy #ben imagines #ben x joe #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy smut #joe mazzello #ben hardy x reader #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello fanfic #Smut #bohrhap smut

[shookethbrooketh]

Christmas Constellations

Summary: Phil works putting up signs at a department store, and the signs never stop getting bigger and better. All the department store chains never cease to attempt to one-up each other, and this holiday season Phil’s has decided to try to beat out the competition with inclusiveness and feature a gay couple in their ads. As annoying as putting up a whole line of ads is, Phil can’t help but find himself infatuated with one of the men in the picture. After staring at him for too many shifts in a row, Phil ends up obsessively wondering if he’s single and if he’s even gay. Eventually he decides that there’s only one way to find out.

Warnings: Alcohol, Food, Cheating (sort of)

Word Count: 13.3k

Artist: @snekydingdong Beta: @diamond0604

A/N: This is one of two fics I’ve written for the @phandomreversebang, and as much as I love the other one, this one is definitely my favorite. I’d also like to give a MASSIVE thank you to my beta, Rachel, who was absolutely incredible. I hope you all enjoy! 

Read it on Ao3

“We have something extra special for you today!” Cheryl, Phil’s manager announced, her tone coated in a false sense of cheeriness, even though Phil could have told from a mile away that she was just as miserable as the rest of them. The only thing giving her the incentive to even attempt to spur excitement in her workers was the extra money in her paycheck. “Today, we’re going to be revealing this year’s Christmas advert!”

There was a collective groan from all the employees, but Phil didn’t bother. Logically, he should have been the one groaning the loudest, since he was the one who would have to put up all the signs, but the adverts were no new news. It was the first of December, and it was the same thing year in and year out. It was that shitty, shitty time of year once again.

“Come on, guys! Christmas is exciting!” Cheryl tried to egg them on again, but to no avail.

“More work,” Gail muttered, and Phil snorted. She seemed to be joking, but only to a certain extent; she didn’t want the Christmas rush any more than Phil did. Gail, a short woman with long, red hair, was by far his closest friend in the store, and they had the same, terrible sense of humor.

“Not that I don’t love Christmas,” Phil chimed in, “the holiday itself is great; I just can’t stand the signage. There’s so much of it, and there’s so much stuff to stock, and not enough room to put it on the shelves. Not to mention the millions of customers. I love the holiday season, but I hate the busy season,” he ranted.

“Well, do you want to see the ad, or not?” Cheryl huffed, gesturing to the small flat screen they’d carted in to show the video.

“Sure,” Phil replied. “Might as well become get to know the people we’re going to hang out with for the rest of the month.” He couldn’t help but dread the piles and piles of signs he’d end up forced to hang up and then look at with the same few faces on them.

Cheryl turned on the television, and Phil kicked back in his chair. It opened with a little girl looking out her window at falling snow. She appeared dreamy, and she reminded Phil of when he watched the snow fall as a child. It was completely dark, the only light coming from a lamp outside. Her father appeared behind her. “Isn’t the snow a beautiful sight?” he asked.

She smiled and turned to him. “It reminds me of stars in the night sky.”

“Cheesy,” Phil heard Gail mumble.

“You know,” said a male voice through the screen. “I thought that when I was growing up too.” From the other side of the girl appeared another man, and Phil’s brain short circuited.

“We’re gay now?” he heard a coworker say.

“Oh, they’re GAY gay,” Gail, the local lesbian, joked.

Normally, Phil would have responded with some witty yet stupid remark, but his eyes were glued to the screen. He couldn’t tear his stare away from the second of the two dads. There was just something infatuating about him. Well, really, in Phil’s opinion, from his curly, chestnut hair, to his eyes, twinkling like the stars around him, to his flawless smile, there really wasn’t anything about him that wasn’t infatuating.

By then they’d been magically transported to space and were floating around and pointing out festive shapes in the stars.

“Space? Come on, how random can it get?” Gail criticized. “Amirite, Phil?” she added, reaching out and punching him softly. “Phil?”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” he responded blankly, still refusing to turn his gaze from the screen.

Gail raised her eyebrows for a moment before smirking in realization. “Philly has a crush!” she whispered excitedly.

“Do not!” Phil whispered harshly, finally glancing away to give her a dirty look.

“Whatever you say, buddy.”

Phil and Gail spent the morning printing and putting up signs, as they usually did on Mondays or days when sales started. As much as Phil hated the manual labor of either carrying or climbing the ladder, the job was always made tolerable by Gail’s presence, but that day things were a bit different.

“You really can’t take your eyes off him, can you?”

Phil shook his head, tearing away from the actor’s face as it printed from the massive printer. “What?”

“I get we’re the only two gays in the store, but do we really have to act like the only two gays in the store?”

Phil rolled his eyes and groaned at her. “What does it matter anyway? He’s just an actor; it’s not like I’m ever even going to meet him, let alone have a chance with him.”

“So you just think he’s hot.” She narrowed her eyes at him in questioning.

“I just think he’s hot.”

“Fine,” she said, pulling the last poster out of the printer. She took a good look at the man on the poster as they went to get the ladder, “honestly, I’ll give you that. He’s pretty attractive, and I’m a lesbian.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” Phil sighed, pulling the ladder out of storage. They silently went about their normal routine of carrying the ladder out together to where they’d hang their first sign. It was completely normal for them; they’d always follow the same route through the store to hang the signs. They even knew exactly when to switch who was climbing the ladder and who was holding the other steady. It was a sort of a sacred morning routine for the two of them; although climbing a massive ladder to reach the ceiling of a retail building terrified Phil, it was worth it to be able to spend a morning alone banting with his best friend. It was their morning, and no one could take it from them.

Well, maybe the man on the poster could.

“Phil!” Gail shouted, and Phil had to grasp the ladder so tight his knuckles turned white to keep from falling.

“What? You scared the shit out of me!” he shouted angrily down at her. Luckily no one noticed, since he was too distracted by his own exasperation to remember he was screaming obscenities to an entire family-friendly retail store.

“You’ve been up there staring at that damned sign for a minute now! Just put it up and get down!” she breathed up at him. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes for a moment before carefully hanging the sign and coming down. As much as he hated to admit it, the attractive man on the poster was already starting to keep him from doing his job.

“Time to switch?” Phil asked, taking his end of the ladder as they carried it to the next stop.

“I swear, Phil, if you get distracted and drop me, as soon as I recover, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Understood.”

Somehow, Phil managed to stay focused throughout the rest of their signage. The death threats, however unrealistic, might have played a part, but Phil liked to convince himself it was due to his own self control rather than his primal instinct to stay alive.

The afternoon was long and fairly uneventful; Phil spent most of his time helping out on a register to help with the beginning holiday rush.

After they finally clocked out, Phil and Gail walked into the Underground together to catch trains back to their flats. “You really like that guy, huh?” she asked, catching Phil off guard.

“What?” he questioned, starting to sweat. “I mean, yeah, he’s cute, but I don’t know if I’d say I really like him. I’ve never met him.”

“Hm,” she grunted as her train arrived and she stepped in.

“Hm?!” Phil shouted back at her. “What the hell is hm?”

Later that evening, it became very obvious what “hm” was.  

At first, when Gail texted him a link, he was simply terrified, as she had a horrific tendency to send him either cursed videos or terrible memes, but when he opened it, he found a surprise he wasn’t quite sure if he could call pleasant.

There, on his screen, through YouTube, was the very ad they’d watched in the break room that morning. There was the same curly-headed, gay dad he’d been pining for all day. And he still couldn’t take his eyes off him.

It took him a few replays of the video to even remember that he was living real life. He’d fallen into an abyss where the only thing on his mind was the actor’s face until he got a Twitter notification. “Oh, shit!” he yelped, throwing his phone down on the couch beside him in a sudden attempt to keep himself from watching the video for a second longer. He sat for a moment, deep in thought about how utterly pathetic he was, and picked up the phone and swiped away the YouTube tab. “This is ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “I need some fresh air.”

It wasn’t that cold of an evening, but it definitely warranted a light jacket. He threw on a hoodie and stepped outside, hands in his pockets. It had already grown dark, but, for a retail worker, he lived in a pretty good part of London. His neighbors were fairly nice, and there was little crime in the area, so he felt save as he wandered the sidewalks in the dark.

He got bored of walking quickly, but he didn’t want to go back to his flat, so he sat down on a bench and looked up at the stars. They were underwhelming, given he was in the center of London. He couldn’t help but wish he could see them all. “Why am I so weird?” he asked the void. He glanced around to make sure there were no people around him to avoid an awkward encounter before he continued talking. “Like, what kind of person has a crush on the actor in a Christmas ad anyway? It’s so overwhelmingly stupid.”

He put his head in his hands and blinked hard before jolting back up. “What does one even do with that? Am I just supposed to walk around all day staring at him for the next month?”

“I wish I could fix this.”

He watched the sky as he spoke, and snow began to fall. It immediately began piling up on the concrete around him. He was in a sort of a concrete jungle; he was sat on the lone bench on his street, and his surroundings were solely buildings and road. It was nice to see snow add some beauty to the grey. He was surprised, though, as it didn’t feel nearly as cold as it would have to be to warrant snowfall, and they didn’t tend to get snow that early in the winter, but he smiled at the snowflakes as they fell onto and melted off of his black hoodie sleeves. Phil had always loved snow.

There was a certain something about snow that just made him smile. He remembered watching the snow fall as a child and being so excited. Snow was uncommon in London, and it was even less common for it to accumulate, so when it did, they almost always got out of school. Snow, for him, just brought back a childlike glee he didn’t get from anything else.

He sighed and stood up, making the short walk back to his flat. He paused before opening the door to his building, taking one last look at the beauty of the falling snow. He watched as each individual flake fluttered to the ground, and his breathing slowed. It was calming, more than anything else. When he got back up to his flat, he made himself some popcorn and put an anime on his television. Finally at peace, he smiled as his phone was left discarded on the other side of the couch.

“You sent me the ad?” Phil laughed at Gail the next morning.

“Yeah, and you didn’t even thank me! Busy, eh?” she asked, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Oh my God, no!” he squeaked, his face going red. “That’s just weird,” he added in a normal voice.

“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands as if to defend herself, “but I’m sure you at least enjoyed it in a completely wholesome and appropriate fashion.”

“I did,” he said, folding his arms and holding his head up high. “However, I ignored it for most of the evening.”

“Well, that’s great! I’m proud of you!” she said, reaching over to give him a pat on the back. “Good luck ignoring it for most of the month.” She pat him a bit harder after that line, and he almost fell forwards. “See ya out there!” she called over her shoulder as she left the break room and went out to the floor.

Phil sighed. “This is gonna be fun.”

Whether or not it was fun was debatable. Trying to ignore the posters was not only not fun but also nearly impossible; they were massive and all over the store. But every now and then, when he did take a look, that could have definitely been considered fun.

A couple weeks passed uneventfully. Well, if you count Phil’s suffering as uneventful, that is. Nothing new happened, but the old was still garbage. It was like the actor was taunting him; everywhere he looked it felt like he was being laughed at.

“You have a crush on a poster!” the cardboard man seemed to say.

Phil didn’t even want to start with the other man. “I get the hot one, and you don’t!”

Worst of all, Phil had been pushed so far that he imagined rude lines being spoken to him by inanimate signs.

“Pathetic,” he sighed as he stared at the poster during a rare slow hour at the register. “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey was playing in the background, and it couldn’t have been more accurate. He was enamored by a picture.

“Man, you’ve really got it bad for him, haven’t you?” Gail asked, appearing at his side after closing her empty register.

“Yes, Gail, I do!” he shouted, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Yeah, well, I give up. I’ve been trying to get rid of him for the last two weeks, but I can’t stop staring at him, and I watch the fucking video five times a day! It’s an obsession, and I’m losing my mind!” he shouted, all his frustration finally pouring out.

“Well,” Gail dragged out, a mischievous look in her eye, “I may be able to help you with that.”

“I can’t tell if this is a wonderful idea or a terrible one.”

“Oh, it’s definitely both.”

Phil groaned, rolling his eyes back in his head. “What is it this time?”

“What if we find him?” she asked, eyes wild.

“Gail, how the hell are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know, but we’re in London, and the Internet has a lot of power. I’m sure we can find it somewhere.”

Phil took a deep breath. At that point, he was desperate. “Fine.”

“Yay!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. “Your place at eight.”

“Wait, what?”

“See you there!”

Sure enough, Gail showed up at Phil’s flat a couple minutes even before eight. He was a bit annoyed that she was early, given that he had five minutes left in his episode of Bake Off, but he turned it off and went to answer the door anyway.

“Ready to find this bitch?” she said cheerily, clapping her hands together. She seemed to have a bit too much energy for Phil’s taste.

Phil bit his lip. “Well, when you put it like that, I’m not-”

“The answer is yes,” she interrupted, carelessly tossing her backpack onto Phil’s couch and heading straight for his kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What?” she asked, already popping a bag of popcorn into the microwave. She’d been over to his flat enough times to know exactly where to find the popcorn. “I’m hungry.”

Three minutes later, they were settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and open laptops. Apparently Gail’s backpack was packed only with her laptop, her charger, and a good portion of her candy stash. She seemed to be under the impression that they’d be up late and need some sugar.

“First step…” she trailed off, one hand browsing the Internet as the other stuffed her face with popcorn, “the YouTube video. See if there’s any traces from there. Look at all the intricate stuff, like the tags.”

“YouTube has tags?” he asked, dumbfounded as his mouth fell open. How much about his precious Internet did he not know?

“Exactly.”

Phil leaned onto Gail’s shoulder as she expertly opened a screen he had never seen before and began scrolling through it looking for names. Phil began to wonder how many people she had stalked on the Internet.

“Nothing,” she said, closing the tab. “Now what?”

“I don’t know! This was your idea, and, quite frankly, it scares me.” Phil receded to a corner of the couch and put in earbuds, deciding to simply rewatch the ad. “Do whatever; I don’t particularly want to be a part of it.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, getting down to business. As much as Phil tried to ignore her, he couldn’t; he still found himself looking over at her screen. One moment she was on Twitter; the next she was on some sort of Twitter-like website that seemed to be a search engine. After his third rewatch, he closed the ad tab and opened Tumblr. He glanced over at her screen and saw her cropping an image of the actor’s face.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just gonna run his face through the database,” she said nonchalantly.

“The database?” Phil shrieked. “What the hell is the database?”

She shrugged. “Just the database.”

“Alright, that’s it!” Phil shouted. “No more stalking.”

“But-” she stammered.

“Go home, Gail,” Phil said, straightfaced and stern.

She sighed and packed up her things, leaving without a word. Phil felt a bit guilty; he hoped he hadn’t upset her too much. She was a great friend to him, as was obvious with her going to these lengths to help him. He just didn’t particularly want that help. At least not in the manner she was going about it.

Of course he wanted to find the actor he was crushing on; hell, he’d been dreaming about it for two weeks. He just didn’t want to stalk him. He loved Gail, but she had a tendency to go too far, especially when it was either related to the Internet or the gays.

Phil chose to avoid Gail for a few days as the holidays drew near. He wasn’t ignoring her; he was just giving her space. She never approached him, so he never approached her. Eventually, they met on their way to the Underground and had a casual conversation. It was more of a colleague one than a friend one, and Phil could barely endure it, but it was a conversation.

Eventually, the holidays rolled around. The twenty-third was one of the worst days, but it didn’t get worse than Christmas Eve. Phil and Gail both would have loved to take the day off, but they didn’t have much of a choice. All the other workers had families they needed the break to spend the holidays with; since they’d each come out, their families didn’t like them much. Without an excuse or a place to go, they were lucky to even get Christmas Day off.

About halfway through the hellish day, Gail approached Phil at the register. Their shift had just ended, but Phil was working a double, and Gail had just clocked out. She was checking out two microwave dinners, a box of microwave popcorn, and a few candy bars. “Got plans?” he muttered.

“Not yet,” she replied, not making eye contact with him.

“Who’s the second dinner for?”

“Maybe I’m just buying ahead!” she exclaimed, acting offended.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, growing quieter on the second word.

“But I was thinking maybe it could be for you… If you wanted it.” She looked up at him, obviously extending an olive branch to end their argument, if one could even call it that.

Phil smiled as he rung up the dinners. “It’s on me.”

After Phil got off work, he headed straight for Gail’s apartment. The two spent the evening on Gail’s couch eating absolute garbage, and it was the best night either of them had experienced in as long as they could remember. Not once did they discuss their conflict or the man from the poster; they simply ate their junk food and watched an anime.

Phil was already tired from his double shift, but his eyes began to droop around the sixth episode. “Hey, Gail?” he reached over to her, but she had already fallen asleep. He picked up his phone and looked at the time; it was 12:13. He smiled at Gail, picking up the blanket she’d fallen asleep with and tucking her in. “Happy Christmas.”

Phil took a cab home and managed to sleep in late. He didn’t have any celebrations to attend that Christmas, so he simply sat in his lounge and watched as many Christmas movies as he could find. He loved the holiday, but it was difficult to do so when he had no one to celebrate it with.

The next day was Boxing Day, and it was all hands on deck at the store. Phil could barely stand the crowds; Boxing Day made him wonder how completely normal human beings could act like such animals. Every now and then he’d see someone who he went to school with come in for the deals. Normally, he’d be embarrassed to be seen working retail in his thirties, but when he saw one of his old classmates fighting an old lady for a vacuum, he realized he probably wasn’t the one who needed to be ashamed. Regardless, the Boxing Day crowds scared the absolute shit out of him, but the one decent thing about working that day was the fact that he rarely had to interact with them. Phil’s Boxing Day job was always signage.

Sure, he had to go in early to take down the Christmas signs and put up the Boxing Day ones, and he had to stay late to change Boxing Day signs to normal sales signs, but it was worth the long day to avoid human contact. He occasionally had to work a register, but most of the day was spent printing out the signs for the next round of sales.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only one working that schedule. Gail was right there with him on the “Hell Shift,” as they’d decided to call it.

It was still plenty dark outside as they took the ladder to the first of the Christmas signs; the doors would open in a few hours, and there were already plenty of people camping outside. Boxing Day was insane. “So,” Gail said as they set the ladder in place, “guess you’re glad to get rid of these, huh?”

Phil shrugged as he climbed up the ladder. “Kinda. I’ll definitely be glad to be rid of the curse of my irrational love for this man, but I won’t miss his face.”

“It’ll always be on YouTube,” Gail joked quietly. She seemed to be acting a bit odd, but Phil chose to ignore it and blame it on the ungodly time of day.

They went about their morning and took down most of the signs. All the posters and displays had been collected, and all that was left was one hanging sign. It was Phil’s turn to climb up, so he made his way up to the colossal face of the actor he’d been gushing over a month and sighed. “Goodbye, mystery man,” he said as he took the sign from its hinges and replaced it with the Boxing Day sign.

On the ground, Gail exhaled, stomping her foot. “Damnit, Phil, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, a little worried as he climbed down the ladder.

“I know who he is.”

Phil nearly fell and broke his leg. “What? How the hell did you find out?” he shouted as he reached the ground.

She bit her lip, looking down at the floor so as to not make eye contact with Phil. “I may or may not have put him in the database.”

“Gail! I literally told you not to do one thing and one thing only.”

“I’m sorry!” she shouted, blowing steam from her nose as she ran her hand through her hair. “I’d already pushed enter when you got mad, and when I opened my laptop after I got home it was just… there. I never told you because I didn’t want you to be angry.”

Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Obviously he wasn’t happy with the means by which Gail figured out the identity of this man, but he couldn’t deny the childlike glee he felt when she told him. He still had butterflies in his stomach, and his heart rate still hadn’t recovered from the fact that he jumped and almost fell off a ladder. “What’s his name?”

“Daniel Howell. Dan for short. I looked him up on social media, and according to his Instagram he frequents a bar downtown. I can send you the address if you want.”

By then it was too late to turn back.

“Sure.”

For once, Boxing Day was bearable. Phil had a certain livelihood about him throughout the day that he’d never felt on such a busy day; he even interacted pleasantly with a few customers. All the joy was solely due to the fact that he’d have the chance to meet Dan at the end of the day.

Dan. It was odd for Phil to think of the man as an actual person with an actual name; until then, it had been completely unknown. Learning more about Dan only made him more and more interested in him.

The day finally rolled to an end, and Phil giddily caught Gail on her way out of the store. “Well?”

She cracked a smile, pulling out her phone. “Impatient?”

Phil simply nodded as she sent him the address. He went home and changed clothes before setting his GPS to the address. It was time for a drink.

The bar was fairly nice; it seemed like the sort of place a commercial actor would go to. It wasn’t a home for deadbeats, but there certainly wouldn’t be any bouncers standing outside. There were a few tables around the bar area where people could order and eat a limited selection of food, and then the room opened up to a dance floor. He sat down at the bar and ordered a margarita to sip as he watched the bar scene unfold around him. It was a bustling place, with music and dancing; the bar and seating section was the only calm place in the room.

It had a good vibe to it, Phil thought. If that was the sort of place where Dan hung out, they would surely be compatible. It was chaotic, but in the best possible way. Phil surveyed the room as he had a few drinks, but there was no sign of Dan. Phil sighed, heading back to the bar to pay his bill. He put his head in his hands; he’d finally had a hint of how to find Dan, and he’d come up empty-handed. He’d been waiting a month to meet this guy, and he couldn’t even figure out how to find him. It was stupid of him to think he would find Dan the first night anyway. No one who isn’t a drunkard goes to a bar every night. Hell, it was probably a good thing that Dan wasn’t there all the time. Not being a drunkard was definitely a plus when looking for a boyfriend.

Phil crashed on his couch and pulled out his phone. On it he found multiple texts from Gail containing links to Dan’s social media. Phil smiled; Gail never failed to provide for him. He would certainly have entertainment for the rest of the night.

After reading up on Dan, Phil made a few conclusions. Firstly, he was definitely gay. Secondly, he was either single or didn’t particularly like talking about relationships on social media. Phil would take that bet. Thirdly, it was clearly worth his time to return to the bar. So Phil made his way back to the bar every few nights in search of Dan. Eventually the scene got boring, and he insisted on bringing Gail.

“Damn,” she said, looking around at the bar as they walked in, “this place is nice.”

“Yeah,” Phil said blankly, having gotten more to used to the bar, “it’s alright.”

They took seats at the bar and had a few drinks. Phil was relieved to have finally brought Gail, as she decided to call an Uber so neither of them would have to drive home. After spending enough time at that damned bar, it was about time he could get wasted.

The two each had a good few drinks, and Phil lost more and more hope with each one. “Gail, there’s no hope,” he said, not yet slurring his words, although he knew he was almost there, “I’m never gonna find him.”

“Do you wanna go home?” she asked, sipping down the last of whatever drink it was. Phil had lost track.

He nodded sadly and pulled his wallet out, handing it to Gail. “Pay for our drinks; I gotta piss.”

She giggled drunkenly and nodded, calling for the bartender as Phil slipped away towards the bathrooms.

The bathroom had a push door, and Phil simply walked straight into it and flung it open. To his surprise, there was a body on the other side, and it got a faceful of door. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Phil exclaimed, his drunkenness immediately fading and being replaced by embarrassment and a bit of fear. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, mate,” the stranger said, clutching his face, “just be more careful next time.” He straightened up and pulled his hand away from his face. “Do I look alright?”

Phil froze. There he was, looking into the eyes of Dan Howell. The dark brown eyes stared back into his, and he couldn’t tear his own eyes away. His brain froze along with his body; he was too mesmerized to even be able to think. And then it hit him; he bashed his crush’s fucking face in. “Yeah, you look great!” Phil exclaimed, a bit too bouncy. “I mean, you’re fine. Nothing bad happened. Your face looks like a completely normal face.” He scrunched up his face; that could not have gone any worse.

But Dan was chuckling. “Your face also looks like a completely normal face. Do you wanna go get some drinks?” he asked casually. “I can get you home, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Phil’s eyes widened, and he struggled to keep his mouth from falling open. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he was too nervous to get it out. His brain was working fine, but he was so terrified his body refused to cooperate with it. “Uh, yeah! I’d love to!”

“Nice.” Dan carefully pulled the door in and gestured for Phil to walk out. “This way you can’t hit anyone.”

Phil rolled his eyes, his nerves gradually melting away. He was still plenty nervous, his body a bit stiff, but at least he wasn’t fully panicking anymore. He had himself under control, despite not having a clue how to speak to Dan. Somehow, he had begun to go with the flow, and it appeared to be working. Dan seemed nice, with a compatible sense of humor to Phil’s, and he even seemed to like him already! Phil still had to pee, but he supposed he’d take what he could get.

“By the way,” Dan said, elbowing Phil as they made their way through the crowd, “you’re repaying me for that by buying our drinks.”

“That’s more than fair,” Phil chuckled.

They reached the bar where Gail was sitting. She took one look at Dan, and her mouth fell open so wide she could have fit her entire drink glass in it. “This is my friend Gail,” Phil said, giving her a look that told her she was acting ridiculous. She promptly shut her mouth. “She was about to leave, wasn’t she?” he said, gritting his teeth for the last two words.

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a grin. She stood up, grabbing her coat and patting Phil on the back, slipping him back his wallet. “See you at work.”

And then she was gone, and Phil was left alone with Dan. They ordered drinks and sat silently for a moment until it got maddening.

“So, you’re gonna tell me I’m hot and then not talk to me when we get drinks? I see how it is,” Dan said. His voice was intimidating yet obviously not cruel. Phil could tell Dan didn’t mean to scare him, but he was already a bit terrified of him, so his tone of voice, albeit joking, definitely didn’t help.

“I-I’m sorry; I’m just quite awkward around attractive people.” He delivered the compliment confidently; there really was no point in beating around the bush.

Dan shrugged, a slight blush stroking his cheeks. It was the first time Phil had seen him be anything but perfect. His curls were just as bouncy as they were in the ad, and when he smiled, he showed deep dimples. He had perfect teeth and chiseled cheekbones; he was truly perfect. “I get that. I used to be like that too until I started acting.”

“Oh, you’re an actor?” Phil asked. He wasn’t exactly sure why he said it, but it was barreling out in a desperate attempt to not make him seem like a fan. He wasn’t sure if Dan was even aware he had fans.

“Yeah, actually. Not any sort of famous one. My biggest gig was a department store Christmas commercial. It wasn’t much, but I got some money out of it, and I finally got to play a gay guy on screen. The whole ordeal, both the commercial and my acting career in general, really upped my confidence.” He looked Phil up and down, and Phil could tell he was aware of how nervous he was. “You should try stepping outside of your comfort zone some time; it really helps.” The bartender slid them their drinks, and they each took a sip.

“Believe me, I’m trying,” Phil said, spinning around on his barstool and gesturing to the room around him. The room was buzzing with activity; it was the last place one would expect to see Phil Lester. Phil was one to keep to himself, and that particular bar was a place for anything but. On the dance floor, a few dozen drunken people were screaming Despacito. Normally the scene would have scared the hell out of Phil, but he had more important things to worry about.

“Not a bar man?”

“More of a quiet bar man.”

“Well, then it’s time to try something new,” Dan said, slamming his drink on the table and taking Phil’s hand. Phil’s face flushed bright red, his body seizing up with nerves when Dan touched him, but Dan didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s go dancing.”

“Wait, what?” Phil barely had time to respond before he was whirled away from the bar and into the crowd, his only tether to reality being Dan’s hand. His nerves shot back up to an all time high, but the alcohol reaching his bloodstream was working to calm him down. He knew for a fact that he would have been shaking from head to toe had he been sober, but the sedative relaxed his nerves just enough to keep him cool. Phil wasn’t quite sure how to feel, or if he was even feeling in the first place. All in all, the only word he could think of to describe it was… exhilarating.

Phil wasn’t particularly experienced in the field of club dancing, but Dan attempted to help him. “Just bop, my dude!” he yelled over the blaring music. Phil tried to bop around and enjoy himself, but he just felt awkward. He was being jostled by people dancing around him, and one of the annoyingly bright dance floor lights was shining in his face. Had Dan not been there, he would have bolted immediately. Dan could obviously tell he was uncomfortable, because after a few minutes he grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a circle of people with one young man, no older than 25, break dancing inside. Phil didn’t even know dance circles existed outside of grade school dances. “Here,” Dan said, making a path for them to reach the front of the circle, “all you have to do here is enjoy yourself.”

Phil took a look at the man dancing inside the circle. He seemed to be enjoying himself; who was to say Phil couldn’t enjoy himself too? It wasn’t exactly a tall order. So he clapped along to the beat and watched as people around him switched in and out of the circle. It was like a dancing tag team, and eventually Dan slipped from the ranks and made his way into the circle himself.

Phil, the drunkenness starting to settle in, was very amused by this; Dan moved so gracefully to the song, feet keeping perfect balance with the time as he rotated on a nonexistent axis. His hips swung to the music, and Phil found it very attractive. Phil couldn’t help to smile at the sight of it. Somehow, Dan was even better in person. Not only was he prettier, but he had a certain aura that made Dan never want to leave his presence; he was the life of the party, but he would still take the time out to make sure Phil was enjoying himself.

“Come on!” Dan shouted, reaching out and pulling Phil into the circle.

“Wait, I don’t know about this!”

“Dance with me!”

Luckily, Dan already knew dancing wasn’t Phil’s affinity, nor was being put on the spot. Dan more than willingly led the way, spinning Phil in circles until he felt like he might throw up. It was all a blur to Phil, the world moving too fast for him to keep track. He ignored the urge to vomit, though, as it was overcome by pure joy and maybe even a little bit of love. His heart was racing, about as far up in his throat as the drinks he was struggling to keep down.  As the song drew to an end, Dan tipped him back into his arm and launched him back up, gasping for air. People around them applauded, and the circle began to dissolve as a slower, less danceable song started to play.

Phil hadn’t felt that alive in years.

“That was incredible!” he shouted. He was being quite loud, but he didn’t even notice; he was high on adrenaline and completely oblivious to the world around him. All he saw was his own hand being held by Dan’s as they trekked back to the bar.

“Wasn’t it? I told you stepping out of your comfort zone would make you more confident! You did great!” Dan shouted back at him. At that point, they were well out of the range where they’d need to shout over the music, but neither of them cared.

They spun back into their seats and ordered another round, neither of them getting up again until Phil finally remembered how badly he had to piss. By that time, the night was winding down, and it was about time for each of them to go home.

Phil paid for the drinks (his wallet was hurting that night) as Dan got an Uber. Phil’s flat was closer, so they would go there first. They stepped out into the cold, sobering air and slid into the back of the Uber. Unsurprisingly, being outside for ten seconds didn’t make them any less drunk.

“Hey, Dan?” Phil asked, resting his tired head on Dan’s shoulder.

“Mmm?”

“I like you,” he said, smiling up at Dan’s glowing face.

Dan smiled back. “I like you too.” Dan gasped, pulling his phone out. “Do you wanna call me?”

Phil, somehow understanding the meaning of that sentence, perked up and nodded excitedly before pulling out his own phone and trading it with Dan’s. They each put in their numbers and started a text conversation to make sure their drunken thumbs hadn’t mistyped a digit.

The streets were relatively empty, given the time of night, so they got back to Phil’s flat quickly. Phil opened the door and the frigid air began to pour into the car. “Phil, wait!”

Phil slowly turned back to Dan, too intoxicated to realize what was coming next.

Dan leaned in close but stopped himself, eyes widening. “Can I kiss you?”

At least he was a respectful drunk.

Phil responded by leaning in himself. At first he ran straight into Dan’s nose, but rather than feeling awkward they simply both giggled before connecting their lips. Phil’s body panicked at first, but it quickly relaxed into the kiss. He thought he would have been overexcited, as he was earlier in the night, but the kiss was comfortable; he felt almost as if he were at home in Dan’s arms. It was a short kiss, but it sent warmth through Phil’s body despite the cold air blowing against him.

Phil slipped out of the car and got one last look at Dan as he closed the door. “Text me.”

The morning sun shone through the window as Phil blinked his eyes open. He groaned, feeling as if the sun was directly assaulting his brain. He was hung over, quite obviously so, and the sun definitely wasn’t helping. He picked up his pillow and forced it against his face, refusing to let any light reach his eyes. The morning was not treating him well.

Suddenly, Phil jerked up straight in his bed, remembering the previous night. “Ack!” he exclaimed, the light aggravating his headache. He dragged himself out of bed to close the blinds before searching his sheets for his phone. Eventually he found it and lowered the brightness before fumbling for his charger. He was a bit annoyed that his drunken self had forgot to plug in his phone, as he always charged it overnight, but his annoyance faded as soon as he unlocked the phone and saw it still open to his conversation with Dan from the night before.

It was an odd relief to see the conversation on his phone; it served as proof that he truly did have Dan Howell’s phone number. Until that point, a small part of him had been convinced the entirety of the night before was just a dream.

Should he text him? Was it too soon? Phil hadn’t even had a date in over a year. He hadn’t a clue where to go from there. Without the drunkenness protecting him, he was left with all his normal social anxieties. He decided to text Gail and ask for advice first, but she was of no help. She simply keysmashed into oblivion in excitement that Phil got Dan’s number. So Phil decided to leave it for a few minutes to get some food and try to cure his hangover.

When he came back, Dan had made the decision for him; he had a message already waiting for him. Phil gasped and snatched his phone off his bed, eyes glued to the screen.

Dan: hey

That was underwhelming. However, Phil still felt the overwhelming need to start a conversation, and a good one at that. He wanted to see Dan again, and he couldn’t fuck that up. He’d been head over heels for Dan since he saw him on a damn poster, and it was a miracle that he managed to meet him. He’d gotten so far; he had to make it work. He just had to.

Phil: Hey! Does your head hurt as bad as mine?

Dan: fuck, it really does. i feel like garbage atm (but tbf i am)

Phil: I mean me too but you’re not garbage :p

Dan: don’t use :p it’s 2019

Phil’s heart raced; was that wrong? Did he fuck up? His eyes darted wildly around the room in panic. How could he fix that? Did Dan think he was lame? He typed the only thing he could think of.

Phil: sorry

Dan: lmfao it’s fine :p

Phil: Hey!

Dan: hehe :)

Phil: This is unfair

Dan: as it should be :)

Dan: so do u wanna meet up again sometime?

Phil: hell yeah! When?

Dan: tonight good?

Phil: Sure! But we’re not getting hammered tonight I have work tomorrow morning

Dan: fair enough

Dan: meet u at yours at 6?

Dan: i’ve got plans covered :)

Phil: rad!

Dan: seriously, don’t say that. it’s 2019.

Phil: :( you’re no fun

Phil: See you tonight :)

Dan: see you :)

Phil struggled to get through the day without texting Dan. He already missed him, and he wanted to keep talking to him, but they hadn’t even gone on a date yet. He couldn’t just text him all day. So Phil spent the impossibly slow day watching anime and scrolling through social media. He texted Gail in the morning, but eventually he abandoned that conversation because all she did was remind him of his upcoming date. Time only managed to pass slower and slower.

Finally, the clocks rolled around to 5:30, and Phil started getting ready. Anxiety crept into his stomach as he tried to pick out an outfit. He didn’t want to overdress, but he didn’t want to underdress either. He tore through his closet looking for anything that was presentable enough to wear on a date; usually Phil wore either quirky jumpers or his work clothes. Finally, after making an absolute mess of his room, he decided on a nice, blue button-up with and a pair of black jeans and went to look at himself in the mirror. Hands shaking, he slicked back his quiff and took a deep breath. He looked good, he told himself in a futile attempt to calm his nerves.

After the saga of choosing something to wear, it was nearly six. Phil barely managed to finish getting ready before he heard his doorbell ring. He rushed to answer it and was relieved to find Dan dressed about as casually as him. “You look great,” Dan said with a smile. Phil couldn’t help but notice Dan’s dimples pop out of his cheeks; he was absolutely adorable, and Phil nearly froze both from nerves and from infatuation.

“As do you!” he blurted out. He hadn’t a clue if he’d come across as such, but he was just about as nervous as the night before.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me just grab a coat.” Phil peeked around his door and pried a dark coat off the hanger. It was a heavy coat, but the night was cold and Phil hadn’t a clue where they were going.

The taxi Dan took to Phil’s apartment was still waiting for them, and they piled into the backseat. The driver took off without instruction; Dan must have told him where to go on the ride there. They were silent for the majority of the cab ride; Phil was much too anxious to speak. Every time he even thought about saying something, he felt nauseous. He knew there was a chemistry between them that would come out if they started talking, but he didn’t know how to initiate that conversation.

“We’re almost here; don’t look,” Dan said, pulling Phil towards him so he couldn’t look out the window. Phil blushed a bit as his thigh grazed against Dan, but he was starting to get at least a little bit more accustomed to Dan’s physical presence.

Phil laughed. “Dan, I live in London. I know where we are.”

Dan furrowed his brow in fake anger as the cab stopped. He paid the driver and slid across the backseat to follow Phil out onto the curb.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to the planetarium before.”

It was Dan’s turn to laugh. “Clearly you haven’t, because this isn’t a planetarium. This is a restaurant called The Planetarium.”

“Oh,” Phil said in a small voice. “That’s misleading.”

“It’s awesome though. The ceiling is clear, so you can see all the stars. And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s getting dark.”

“A starlit meal?” Phil asked as they entered the dark restaurant. There was a fountain in the center of the restaurant that was sculpted in the shape of the solar system. Water rolled over the planets as they rotated around a lit sun. It was an architectural feat he’d never seen the likes of before. The rest of the dining area wasn’t any less impressive; every table was lit by candlelight, and he was probably the most casually dressed person there. “That actor’s salary must go a long way,” he joked.

“Howell,” Dan said to the hostess. He even had a reservation! Dan had obviously put plenty of effort into this date, and Phil wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. He felt a warm love in his stomach because of it, but he also felt like he had some high standards to live up to.

Dan turned to Phil and smiled. “Definitely not. Usually I struggle a bit, but that Christmas advert paid the big bucks. That’s only a once in a few years sort of gig, though. I was quite lucky to have it.” He seemed fairly modest about his career, but he was obviously proud of the advert, and Phil certainly couldn’t blame him.

“Oh, no, you shouldn’t spend your money on me! You should save it!” Phil whined, his mouth falling open. He felt….guilty, almost, for drawing that much money out of Dan’s wallet. The anxious feeling in his stomach had been fading, but that brought it back just enough to bother him again.

“Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand, “sometimes you’ve just got to live in the moment. It’s worth it.”

Phil wanted to respond, but a waiter was ready to take them to their table. They were seated near the fountain, allowing Phil to admire it from closer up. “This is incredible,” he said, eyes glued to the water flowing down the orbit of Neptune as he took off his jacket.

“It really is,” Dan responded, a soft smile on his face. It was a smile Phil hadn’t seen yet--one of content. Dan appeared almost mesmerized by the fountain. He gave a peaceful smile, and it gave Phil some peace as well. “It gets better, though,” he said, tapping Phil’s hand to get his attention. “Look up.”

It was a clear night in the dark restaurant, and when Phil looked up through the clear ceiling he could see the entire night sky. The moon wasn’t in view yet, but the stars glimmered overhead and reminded him of Dan’s commercial. Phil was amazed that the stars were so visible from the center of a restaurant dining room, especially since they were in the middle of London; he could see every constellation in the sky. “Wow.”

“Wow is right.”

They picked up their menus, and Phil was astounded once again. The food was just as expensive as he assumed. “Dan! I can’t let you pay for all this!”

“Then don’t.”

“Okay, well, I certainly can’t pay for it.”

“Then let me.” He smiled slyly and Phil rolled his eyes. There was no winning that battle.

Phil ordered the least expensive thing off the menu and watched Dan order some fancy fish he couldn’t even pronounce the name of. Of course, neither could Dan, but Phil assumed that was a common occurrence, as the waiter simply laughed and took down the order on his notepad.

“Glad to hear you’re still a normal person who can’t pronounce foreign names,” Phil said.

Dan chuckled. “I’m no celebrity, nor can I speak French.”

“I’m pretty sure that���s not French, but okay.”

“Too bad, because we don’t have our menus anymore. Now we’ll never know.”

Phil snapped his fingers in fake disappointment. “Darn.”

They both broke out into a quiet laugh as Phil’s anxiety dissipated. The conversation was all he needed for his muscles to finally relax. He knew he’d be able to speak with Dan; he just had to get it going, and once he did, it went wonderfully.

The wait for their food was obnoxiously long, but they managed to entertain themselves with conversation. Phil was shocked; a few minutes earlier, he hadn’t been able to speak with Dan, and then suddenly he couldn’t stop. It was magical, to him, in a sense.

“I blame your freaky fish,” Phil said, becoming tired of waiting for the food. “I just got pasta and chicken.”

“Maybe it’s your crazy chicken!” Dan argued.

“Are we just putting adjectives in front of meats now?”

“I guess so.”

They laughed again, a constant of the evening. The people around them were giving them looks; they definitely didn’t belong in that restaurant. They were two normal people in a house for extremely rich people, and they weren’t faring well. But neither of them cared, and they just kept on laughing. The laughter brought Phil a certain joy he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember; it had been so long since he’d smiled so much his cheeks started to hurt, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until he was doing it again. When the food did come, he was almost sad the conversation had to slow down.

The food was incredible. Of course, for those prices, Phil would have been angry if it wasn’t, but he enjoyed his simple pasta dish, and Dan seemed to enjoy whatever the hell he had on his plate.

After the food was eaten, the waiter came back and read them the dessert menu. At the end, they looked at each other.

“Solar system sundae,” they said in unison. The waiter simply smiled, nodded, and walked away.

They spent the next twenty minutes demolishing the biggest ice cream sundae either of them had ever seen. It was in a circular pan only a couple inches deep, and it had a simple vanilla base, but it was then coated in chocolate fudge and had planets drawn on it in different syrups and icings.

“Dan…” Phil trailed off, his breathing heavy. “Can’t...eat...any more ice cream,” he breathed out, hand shaking as he shoveled another bite into his mouth.

Dan laughed, but he wasn’t doing much better. “It’s so good...but I’m so full!”

“On three,” Phil said, “we put down the spoons. Okay?”

Dan nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three!” they yelled at the same time, each of them slamming their spoons down on the table. There was a collective groan from the two of them.

“I don’t want to move,” Phil complained.

“Luckily,” Dan choked out, “you barely have to.”

Phil raised an eyebrow as Dan gestured to a patch of fake grass Phil hadn’t noticed before. There were benches around the grass where couples sat and chatted, but Phil much preferred the concept of lying aimlessly on the grass and admiring the sky. “Would you like to stargaze while you digest?”

Phil smiled both at Dan and at the concept of lying on the floor for a while. “I’d love to.”

Dan paid the check, and they stood up and made their way over to the stargazing grass. Phil laid down and looked up at the constellations, snuggling up under his jacket. “Hey, leave some blanket for me!” Dan said, jokingly nudging Phil as he laid down beside him. He promptly pulled some of the jacket onto him as he nestled up to Phil.

“The stars are amazing,” Phil said dreamily, “how did we get lucky enough to have such a clear night?”

“Dunno,” Dan whispered back, “same way I got lucky enough to find you.”

“That was so cheesy,” Phil teased.

“And so is this.” Dan leaned up and pressed his lips to Phil’s, and Phil’s body filled with life. It was their first kiss they shared with neither of them being intoxicated, and it was just as wonderful, if not more. In that moment, that was all Phil felt: wonder.

After a moment they pulled apart, and Phil smiled. “That was definitely cheesy, but I’ll give you a pass because I’ve always wanted to kiss someone under the stars.”

“Glad to check that one off your bucket list,” Dan said, beaming.

They returned to their original position of simple closeness, and Phil was more than content. He felt like he could lie there in Dan’s presence forever. He so wished he could, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I don’t feel gross anymore, do you?” Dan asked him in a whisper. It was a simple conversation, but it felt like an intimate experience kept just for the two of them. Phil shook his head. “Are you ready to go?”

“Am I going home?” Phil asked, and Dan nodded. “Then not really,” Phil replied, “I want to stay with you.”

Dan chuckled, breaking into a smile. “You know, me too.” He paused for a moment, deep in thought. “How about this?” Dan sighed happily, “You’ve got to get some sleep and work tomorrow morning, and I’ve got some lines to learn for a shoot tomorrow. We meet up at the Eye tomorrow at seven and go see a movie. You know, just for the sake of being together. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

They hailed another cab to drive them home, and they refused to break contact throughout the ride. Thighs pressed together, they felt as if they were at home in each other’s presence. They each craved the same feeling of safety that came from simply being in the same space.

This time, Dan’s flat came first on the route home. It was a simple building, a little bit nicer than Phil’s, but it was nothing special. It was a bit comforting to see that Dan truly was no celebrity; he was simply a normal person, perfect for Phil, the most normal person on the planet.

They kissed goodbye and let their touch linger as they separated. As they pulled apart, Phil felt as if a part of him was being dragged away from his person. Neither of them wanted him to leave, but it was necessary. There was an empty feeling in the air as the door shut and the space between them began to grow, but Phil was comforted with the knowledge that they’d meet again in a short day.

He sighed as he leaned back against the headrest. Finally, all his emotions truly began to hit him, and he couldn’t help but smile. After all those hours spent staring at the posters, he’d finally gotten to truly know Dan, and damnit, Phil was in love with him.

Phil hated the day at work leading up to his second date with Dan. Not only did he have to wait, making the day longer, but he also had to put up with Gail annoying him the entire time.

“So, how was the date?” she pried, raising an eyebrow as she elbowed Phil.

“Good,” Phil said, monotone.

“Second date?”

“Tonight.”

She squealed like the fangirl she was. “Where are you going? What are you doing? Are you excited?”

“Yes, Gail, I’m excited,” he said, rolling his eyes as he put up a sign. Of course it had to be sign day; everything had to fall into place for Gail to have as much time as possible to bother him about Dan. “We’re going to the Eye, and I don’t know what we’re doing. Apparently he likes planning dates.”

“That’s so cute. I can’t believe this actually worked out!”

“Neither can I, but you know what I believe?”

“What?”

Phil turned to face her and gave her a stern look. “You being so utterly annoying about it.”

Gail pouted, refusing to make eye contact with him. “Sorry. But you’ve got to admit, it would never have happened without me.”

“Fine, fine. Just come up with at least ONE other conversation topic.”

“Deal.”

Although it certainly didn’t cease, the annoyance decreased throughout the day. Their morning routine was basically back to normal, despite seeming to last twice as long as it did. Phil and Gail worked adjacent registers in the afternoon, and she actually managed to help the time pass.

Mid-afternoon, they started a conversation about their favorite television shows and only stopped talking whenever a customer showed up at either of their registers. They probably weren’t supposed to be spending so much time talking. In fact, Phil knew they weren’t supposed to be spending so much time talking. But the conversation made the shift manageable, and he couldn’t have been more thankful for that. There was no better reminder of why he was friends with Gail.

“Good luck,” she said to him as he left for the Underground after his shift. It was the first time in hours she had mentioned it, but this time it was in good faith. He nodded, a soft, genuine smile on his face.

He took the train home simply to change into nicer clothes and then headed back out to catch a train to the Eye. He managed to lay out an outfit before he left that morning, so he would be a bit early, but he didn’t want to risk something happening on the train and making him late. Besides, he was starving. He knew he’d get dinner with Dan, but it couldn’t hurt to pick something up in between the station and the Eye.

Phil stepped onto the platform at the station nearest to the Eye at 6:30. He stopped at a Starbucks on the way and picked up a small muffin to snack on as he walked. He managed to arrive fifteen minutes early and take a seat on a bench near the Eye. He looked up at the wheel and let it mesmerize him as he nibbled his muffin. The slow circulation of the Eye was quite calming. Watching it slowly rotate numbed his mind and effectively calmed his nerves.

He finished his muffin and pulled out his phone to check the time; it was 6:03. Phil raised an eyebrow and glanced around him; Dan was nowhere to be found. He quickly shot a text to Dan saying that he was there and on a bench and opened a game on his phone. Dan must have gotten caught up in traffic; either that or the tube managed to fuck up. Neither would be surprising. He played a couple levels of his game, and Dan still hadn’t arrived. He texted asking Dan if he was alright; by then he was fifteen minutes late.

Phil sat for a few more minutes and stared at the Eye, the main source of light in the night sky. The spokes of the wheel were lit in various colors; the rhythmic change from color to color was soothing before, but it didn’t relieve his fear anymore. It was getting late, and Phil was freezing. Phil dialed Dan’s number, but he didn’t answer. He bit his lip; he was starting to get concerned on multiple levels. Was Dan alright? Had something happened? Nearly as bad, had he simply ghosted Phil?

Phil tapped the ‘Favorites’ tab in his Phone app and called the first number on the list.

“Gail?”

“Yeah?” she answered. “Why are you calling me? Aren’t you on your date?”

“Should be,” he said, disgruntled.

“What happened?” Her concern was evident; for once, Phil was grateful for how much she cared about his love life.

“How long do you stay before deciding someone stood you up?”

He heard a sigh through the phone. “Oh, Phil… I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t planning on crying over it, but hearing her sympathy made him fight back tears. Phil struggled to maintain even breaths, the pain pooling in his throat from restricting his tears. He wasn’t angry at that point; he simply felt like human garbage. He was in his thirties and he needed sympathy over getting stood up on a date. It was pathetic. “Did you text him? Call him?”

“Did both; he didn’t answer.”

“Do you want to come over and hang out with me?”

Phil’s first instinct was to say yes; bad dates were Phil and Gail’s best nights. Whenever one of them had a bad date, they’d go to the other’s flat and eat enough ice cream that they didn’t care anymore. That wouldn’t work this time; the ice cream simply reminded him of Dan. Besides, something was nagging at him, telling him to go somewhere else.

“Actually, I think I’ve got another idea. Thanks for the offer though. Be sure to keep it open; I may show up later if this ends up sucking ass.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Phil wiped the freezing tears out of his eyes and stood up, taking one last look around for Dan. He took a deep breath and marched back towards the tube station. He had new plans.

After a few Google searches, Phil found himself at the bar where he first met Dan. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought himself there; he assumed his brain thought it to be a good way to grieve. Again, he didn’t understand why, but there he was, rolling with his impulse.

He stepped into the bar and took a seat, ordering a glass of liquor. He usually was one for more fruity drinks, but at that point he just craved the warm, familiar feeling of drunkenness. He wanted to feel the way he felt when he fell for Dan in real life. He wanted a fuzzy mindset that would wash away his sadness. He didn’t care how he got there.

A couple drinks later, someone swiveled into a stool a few spots down from him. “Phew,” they exhaled, obviously coming straight off the dance floor. “Usual,” they said to the bartender.

Even drunk, Phil would recognize that voice anywhere.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He turned to Dan, his eyes piercing into Dan’s skin with anger. His vision was a bit blurry, but he could still see Dan’s fear.

“Oh, shit, Phil, I-”

“Don’t ‘oh shit’ me! You blew me off!”

“No, I didn’t mean to, I genuinely just forgot, I swear!”

Phil’s mouth fell open, his body shaking with rage. “You forgot? You forgot you had a date! That’s significantly worse than just blowing it off!” he snarled.

Dan exhaled through his nose, trying to find words. “Listen, I’m sorry. There’s more to this than meets the eye.”

Before Phil could respond, a man came from the direction of the bathrooms. He approached Dan and put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, babe. You got our drinks?”

Phil’s body relaxed, the tension in his muscles relieving as he realized he hadn’t the remaining energy to be angry. At that point, he wasn’t even sure he could call his emotion anger. More, he felt a certain understanding he hadn’t had before. Finally, he knew what was going on, and as much as it hurt him, it was almost relieving.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said to Dan, taking out some money from his wallet for his drinks and slamming it on the bar, “there is more to this than meets the eye. Thanks, Dan.”

He pushed himself off of the barstool and stormed off; Dan didn’t bother to follow him. He pulled open the door and stepped outside, letting the cold air hit his face. As the cold sobered him, his feelings didn’t change. Phil took a train to Gail’s flat, not because he wanted to spend time with her, but because it was farther away than his own home. All Phil wanted in that moment was to put as much distance between him and that bar as he possibly could. He succeeded, and he never went back to that bar again.

~ Five Years Later ~

“Finally.” Phil sighed as he crossed a red x over the fifth of July on his calendar. The sixth was circled for a very special reason. “One more day and I can get out of this hellhole.”

It had been three years since Gail found a new job. It paid twice as much as her shitty retail job, and it actually had room for improvement. Room for a better life.

Of course, she and Phil remained friends, but they didn’t see each other nearly as often as they used to. She still lived in her old flat for a while, and they met there often, but then she found a girlfriend and moved into her flat. Phil even went to their wedding, but it wasn’t nearly as happy for him as he hoped it would be. He basically watched Gail get her life together while he was still stuck in the same rut.

Shortly after Gail left, Phil decided to go back to university. He’d started going after secondary school, but some things had come up and he ended up having to quit, throwing him into the dead-end retail job he’d held for twelve years. As he watched his only friend move up in the world, he decided he couldn’t sit still any longer.

Of course, he still had to work his retail job for money while he got an education, which basically made his life a living hell. He couldn’t work as many hours, and he never had any free time, let alone time to try and find someone to settle down with as Gail did. Undoubtedly, it was the worst three years of his life.

But finally, he’d finished his degree from years ago, and he’d gotten a job in filmmaking. He would be working on a commercial, and he started July 6th. Although he was absolutely terrified to start the new job, he felt as if he was a prisoner finishing his sentence; he could finally leave his old job.

His last day at the retail job was undoubtedly the best; they even had a party for him. He didn’t particularly care much, as he had virtually no friends in the store without Gail there, but the cake was good, and there was nothing that had ever given him more joy than walking out of the store for the last time.

The next morning, after an anxious night of little sleep, Phil walked in to his first day on set. He would be the assistant to the director of the commercial, and it paid about as much as his retail job did. From there, he’d hopefully be able to move up in the industry. It was scary, but anything was better than retail.

“Phil!” the director called out, walking towards him with a spring in his step, “good to see you. Meet our actors.”

A few adults followed behind him, and all but one waved at him. He didn’t take much notice in them; he was doing his best to pay attention to the director. “Meet Emma, Riley, Will, and Dan.” He looked down the line at all the faces and gave a smile and a wave to them each as he said their names. But when he got to Dan, his smile quickly turned to a frown. He’d gained a few age lines on his face that he didn’t have before, but it didn’t take from his features; he was still as attractive as ever, if not more. Other than that, he simply appeared more mature. In front of Phil was a man who knew the ins and outs of life.

“Hi, Dan,” he said, his voice quiet and stern.

“Hey,” Dan said, a tint of shame in his tone.

The director simply looked confused. “Do you two know each other?” Each of them nodded, and he nodded in understanding. “Ah, well, whatever happened in the past is in the past now. Let’s get going with production!” The director clapped his hands, and Phil turned and walked as far away from Dan as fast as he could. The last thing he wanted was to ruin his first job in the film industry by causing drama with his ex-boyfriend.

The morning went seamlessly; they got all the shots they needed with the first set and took lunch while the crew replaced it with the next. Phil took his lunch and kept to himself, eating in a corner away from all the actors and even from the director. Still, he couldn’t avoid the inevitable.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” As expected, Dan was standing over him, wringing his hands. He was biting his lip in an anxiety Phil had never seen from him before; usually Dan was the confident one, but he was a nervous wreck.

Phil sighed. He didn’t much want to talk to Dan, but he decided it was probably best to just let him talk and get it over with. “Sit down,” he said, defeated.

“I just wanted to say...I’m really, REALLY sorry about what happened a few years ago. If you don’t want to hear me out, I completely understand, but I’d really like to explain myself.”

Dan? Showing him respect? What a feat. “Might as well listen. Maybe it’ll be fun,” he said, straightfaced and full of resentment.

“Okay, so you’re still mad. I can’t blame you. But let me just explain what happened,” Dan pleaded.

He paused, and Phil gestured for him to continue. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“Well, I was in a long term relationship with a man who I was in love with. He, however, didn’t love me, and was extremely manipulative. He had broken up with me about a week before I met you. I was empty, and when I found you, I felt like a little bit of that void he left inside me was filled. So I went out with you, and I made plans for a second date. And I swear, I really did plan on meeting you that night. And that was when he texted me.” Dan sounded almost ashamed of his past relationship; he’d obviously been taken advantage of, and he wasn’t happy to admit it.

“I want to stress how head over heels I was for this guy. He had me in his trap; I would have done anything for him. He told me he missed me, and I fell right back in. I know now that I should have ignored him. I should have gone with you instead. But this guy just had some terrifying control over my brain. He was my number one priority, to the point that when he texted me I completely forgot you even existed. I know, that’s shitty. That’s what you told me when it happened. But believe me...my relationship was fucked up.”

“Clearly,” Phil interrupted, still struggling to let go of his years-old bitterness. He couldn’t help but feel a bit sympathetic, but he wasn’t particularly ready to react positively.

“I… completely understand if you can’t forgive me. Obviously I’d love it if you could, but I probably wouldn’t be able to forgive me either. Just know that I’m not that person anymore. I’ve been to therapy; I’ve dealt with my shit…. it’s been a wild five years.”

Phil chuckled. “Same here.”

“So, are we okay?” he asked tentatively.

There was a long pause for thought before Phil could answer. First, he thought back five years. So much had changed since then. Five years was a hell of a long time, and Phil, too, had become a different person since then. But he still remembered the happiness he felt on the one date he had with Dan, eating ice cream and lying under the stars. It was a certain type of joy he wasn’t sure he’d felt yet. Plus, Phil decided Dan had somehow gotten even more attractive as he aged.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Dan exhaled, a smile of relief crossing his face. “Good.”

As the shoot went on, Phil learned that Dan wasn’t lying. It was obvious just from how he interacted with both Phil and others that he really had changed. Even back then he seemed like a nice guy, but now it was on a different scale. The way he cared for other people, the way he cared for himself...he really had dealt with his shit, and he’d grown from it.

After a few days, the shoot wrapped up. Phil wasn’t worried about his future; he’d worked with the director to line up a few more shoots to work at. The first shoot went off without a hitch, and he was content with the fact that he might have a future in the industry. Things were going well for him; he was ready to move on with his life.

But Dan wasn’t.

“Hey, Phil, wait up!” he heard Dan shout from behind him as he was walking to the station to take a train home. Dan ran to catch up with him. “Okay, okay,” he panted, trying to gather himself. Phil stopped walking to give him a chance to catch his breath.

“Listen, Phil, I know this is a long shot, but-” he blinked hard, and it was obvious that he thought he was being ridiculous, “I like you. I liked you years ago, and now that I’ve met you again, I still like you. I know things went horribly last time, but I’ve gotten rid of those terrible influences that drove me to hurt you, and-” he threw his hands at his sides. “it just doesn’t feel right to let you walk out of my life again. I shouldn’t have let you leave the first time, and I can’t make that mistake again.”

He stood in silence for a moment, looking like a deer in headlights. Phil smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Is this you asking me out?”

A small bit of color entered Dan’s previously pale face, but he still appeared a being of pure fear. “Yeah! Yeah, that, um-” his eyes darted wildly around the parking lot; he obviously didn’t think he’d get that far, “could I take you out for some drinks? Maybe? Tomorrow night? I promise I’ll show up this time.”

Phil smiled. Something told him this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He watched as pure relief replaced the panic on Dan’s face, and he couldn’t help but smile wider. “Same apartment. See you tomorrow.”

“Great!” he shouted as Phil began to walk away. “Seven?”

“Seven!” Phil called back to him.

“Awesome!”

Suddenly, Phil turned on his heel. “Oh, and Dan?” A few feet had been put between them, and Phil began making up the distance. “If you fuck this one up, I will NEVER talk to you again. Deal?”

By then, he was standing right in front of Dan. He stuck his hand out, and Dan, regaining a small amount of confidence, offered Phil his own.

“Deal.”

About a year later, Phil took great joy in inviting Gail to his own wedding.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phic stuff #dong and ping #phandom reverse bang #prb #tw alcohol #tw food #tw cheating

[sonseulsoleil]

in some other life (we are standing side by side), chapter 3

Chapter 3! Finally! (also read on AO3)

Summer in New York was oppressive. The air was heavy and thick with heat, and Anya would’ve given anything for a working air conditioning. Of course, that was a luxury neither her nor Dimitri could afford. So she sat on the couch, drenched in sweat, trying to will herself to do anything productive. So far, all she’d managed was to move from her sweaty sheets to the couch. That was several hours ago, before Dimitri had even left for work.

She’d meant to start some new job applications, but she was just staring at them, the words blurring.  Am I dehydrated? She wondered absently, before her disjointed and sluggish thoughts were cut by a shrill tone.

Her phone. No, not her phone. She had an iPhone. This was an ancient nokia flip phone. This was Dimitri’s shitty pay-as-you-go phone.

“Dumbass,” Anya mumbled to herself, before peeling herself off the couch, sliding on a pair of sneakers she’d left by the door, and grabbing her wallet. She’d never actually been to The Palace before, as much as Sophie talked it up. Maybe she would’ve, before she met Dimitri, but now that she had, it felt weird. The Palace was his place, so she’d avoided it like the plague for nearly three months.

Leave it to Dimitri to kill that streak. And, yeah, sure, Anya didn’t have to immediately head to the bar, but she could already hear him complaining about it later. And anyways, the subway was cooler than their apartment. She arrived at the bar--which was blissfully air conditioned. The Palace was one part high end restaurant, which served both lunch and dinner, and didn’t even close in between, and one part bar. Photos of favorite customers and longstanding employees were tacked up on the olive green walls. Anya scanned the restaurant and didn’t see Dimitri anywhere, so she headed towards the bar, but he wasn’t there either. Lily was there, instead, mixing drinks and cracking jokes.

“Lily?” Anya asked.

“Anastasia Romanov, as I live and breathe!” Lily exclaimed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in my establishment?”

“Please, call me Anya,” Anya laughed. “And I’m here for Dimitri.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “ You ’re his roommate Anya?”

“Uh, yeah,” Anya shrugged and held up the phone. “He left his phone at home, so I thought I’d bring it to him.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “That’s nice of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Anya shifted her weight. “I wouldn’t hear the end of it, if I didn’t.”

“Right,” Lily nodded, “Just leave it with me, and I’ll give it to him when he gets back.”

“Oh, cool, thanks.” Anya handed Lily Dimitri’s janky flip phone, and was about to turn and leave, when her eyes caught on one of the many photographs tacked up on the wall. Dimitri leaned against the wall, with a lopsided party hat on his head, a drink in his hand, and half a smile on his face.

“That’s from his birthday three years ago,”  Lily said gently, apparently following Anya’s gaze. “It was the only time I’ve ever gotten him to celebrate. And it was only because I tricked him into it.”

“He doesn’t like his birthday?” Anya didn’t do a lot for her birthday--she hadn’t even mentioned it to Dimitri when it hit a month before--but she still at least went out for drinks with her sisters (and Alexei). “Why not?”

Lily sighed. “I wish I knew.”

Dimitri woke to a loud whirring sound. He groaned, rolled over, and covered his ears with pillows. The sound pushed through, anyway, and Dimitri rolled onto his back, defeated. “What the hell is she doing?” he mumbled to himself, stumbling out of bed, and followed the noise down the hall to the kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” Anya stood over a blender-- Since when do we own a blender? Did she buy that just to piss me off? “Oh, nice boxers.”

Dimitri couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed that he’d slept in his boxers and nothing else. “What the hell?”

Anya rolled her eyes and flicked off the blender. “I’m making a smoothie.”

“Okay, but,” Dimitri paused. “Why so early?”

“It’s 10 AM.”

“An ya ,” Dimitri groaned. “You know I don’t get off work until, like, 2:30. This is the crack of dawn for me.”

“Augh, don’t be such a baby,” Anya pulled a mug down from the cabinet, grabbed the french press from the counter, filled the mug, and held it out towards Dimitri. “I made you coffee.”

Dimitri blinked sleepily, but took the coffee and drank greedily. “If there’s one thing I like about you, it’s your coffee.”

“What can I say,” Anya shot a wink, “It’s a gift.”

“So,” Dimitri cleared his throat. “What’s with the uh,” he gestured to the greenish liquid in the blender. “Whatever that is.”

“Spinach and wheatgrass,” Anya took the pitcher off the base and filled a glass. “I have a big job interview today and I want to be refreshed for it.”

“Ah.” Dimitri nodded and sipped his coffee again. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Anya smirked, and leaned forward. “But I don’t need luck.”

Anya aggressively paced the length of the apartment, from the end of the hall, to the kitchen, and back again, sweat dripping down her face; and this time, it was not just a product of the heat. She looked down at her phone. 2:53 PM. Seven more minutes. Her stomach flipped. She walked out from the hall to the living room, where Dimitri sat, unaffected on the couch, flicking through a National Geographic.

“I didn’t get the job, did I?” She asked, not bothering to wait for him to speak before continuing. “I mean, they would’ve called me by down, right? They said they would call me by 3 PM today.”

Dimitri didn’t look up from his magazine. “Maybe they’re just really busy today.”

“Dimitri!” Anya growled. “This is important!” God, she could’ve slapped the disinterested look right off his face. “Whether or not I get this job impacts your future, too, ya know.”

Dimitri sighed, closed his magazine, and opened his mouth to say something, but at that exact moment, Anya’s phone rang.

“Oh my God.” She stood frozen in place, staring as Neva Publishing’s number flashed on screen.

“Well, answer it!” Dimitri threw up his arms in frustration.

“Right, right.” She accepted the call. “Hello?”

“Anastasia Romanov?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Chloe, from Neva Publishing. Is this a good time?”

“Thank you for calling, this is a great time.”

“I just wanted to let you know that we’ve decided to hire you. Can you come in tomorrow at 8 AM  to iron out some details?”

Anya tried to hide the excitement in her voice. “Yes, I can. Thank you again.” She ended the call, put down her phone, and stood in shocked stillness for a moment.

“So?” Dimitri asked, standing up from the couch.

Anya turned to face him, unable to hold back any longer. “I got the job!”

He grinned back at her. “I knew you would!”

Without thinking, she threw her arms around him. He stiffened for a second, before returning the embrace. It was only a short hug, as Dimitri pulled out of it after a moment, his eyes clouding over.

“Does this mean…” He swallowed. “Are you moving out?”

Once again, the world slowed. She’d always planned on moving out once she got a job, but now, hearing those words, something didn’t feel right.

“I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Dimitri cocked his head to the side.

“I mean, you haven’t found someone to replace me, and I haven’t looked at other places to live yet anyway.” Anya bit her lip. “But I know you don’t exactly like having me around, so I can, you know, start looking.”

“Anya,” Dimitri sighed. “I do like having you around.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Dimitri gave her a small smile. “I do.”

Anya couldn’t help returning his smile. “Good, because I like..being around.”

Dimitri felt guilty. Stupidly, absurdly guilty. It was sort of a new feeling for Dimitri--well, not new, but it had been a long time since he’d felt it last--and he wasn’t a fan. It had been weeks since Anya had told him about her parents, and in the back of his brain, he was still dwelling on the poor way he’d handled it. He’d wanted to say something the next day, but she acting like nothing had changed, so he decided to try to just. Let it go. But apparently, his brain couldn’t let it happen. And then after she decided to stay, after she said she felt like he didn’t want her around...

So here he was, pacing in the kitchen while his coffee got cold, waiting for Anya to get home from brunch with Tatiana. With any luck, she’d be back before his shift started. He’d been waiting about thirty minutes, which--ignoring how pathetic that was--meant she couldn’t be gone much longer. How long can brunch take?

It turned out, brunch took another half an hour. But then Anya was in the door and complaining about how Tatiana spent the whole time going on and on about her fiance and their wedding plans. It took five solid minutes before Dimitri could get a word in edgewise.

“Anya, hey, you can finish complaining about Tatiana later, I promise,” Dimitri gulped nervously, “But I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Okay…” Anya was hesitant.

“I just,” Dimitri cleared his throat. “I feel bad about how dismissive I was when you told me about your parents. I do really appreciate you, uh, opening up to me, I guess. I know how hard that can be.”

“Do you?” Anya seemed doubtful.

“I do,” Dimitri said firmly, and his chest tightened with his grief for a moment.

Dimitry could see curiosity pulling on Anya like strings on a puppet, but she managed to resist. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Instinctively, he put his hand over hers. “I want to.”

“Oh.”

“My mother left when I was two. I don’t remember her at all. I used to have a picture of her, when I was younger. But I lost it, eventually.”

“Did your father ever remarry?”

“No.” Dimitri swallowed and pulled his hand away, trying not to remember too vividly. “For a long time, it was just me and my dad. We didn’t have a lot, but we got by, and my dad never let on how much he was dealing with. ‘Dima,’ he used to say, ‘One of these days things are gonna start looking up for us. We just gotta keep on going.’” Dimitri paused and took a shuddering breath. “Never give up, Dima.”

“Dima?” Anya asked, her blue eyes wide and soft.

“That’s what he called me,” Dimitri shrugged.

“Thank you for te--”

“I’m still not done.” Dimitri crossed his arms. “When I was nine years old, my father was arrested. He was a good man, but he had a big mouth. He ended up with a felony assault charge for speaking up to the wrong people. After that, I was a ward of the state. I bounced from foster home to foster home.”

“I had no idea.” Anya let out a long breath. “Is your father still in prison?”

“No,” Dimitri shook his head. “My father died in prison when I was fifteen. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”  

“I’m so sorry, Dimitri.” She took his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Dimitri’s chest tightened. “Anyways, I just...I thought you should know.”

“Thank you,” Anya dropped his hand and looked up to meet his eye. "For telling me, for trusting me."

Dimitri didn't break eye contact. "Well, we're, y’know, friends now, right?"

"Yeah," Anya nodded. "We're friends."

#Anastasia The Musical #Anastasia 1997 #dimya #Dimitri Sudayev #Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov #my fan fiction #the bickering roommates AU no one asked for

[timeisacephalopod]

Optioned

Um, random Peter/ Bucky AU in which they both work a shitty job at a movie theater. I don’t know what this is but its definitely crack lmao. I just wanted to write the pairing tbh.

Ok so Peter had aspirations- once upon a time that was a thing but now all his dreams are dead and he stuffs bags full of pop corn for a living. Its not exactly that he hates his job at the local movie theater, its just that he’d rather kill himself than speak to an actual live human being at a till. People are assholes for one, and also he’s discovered that the ‘ice vs no ice’ controversy is real and people are passionate about it. His preference? He doesn’t have one because he can’t be assed to care about trivial shit like that.

The only good thing to come out of his shitty job making surprisingly good popcorn is that he met Bucky. Sure he’s like ninety percent sure Bucky never actually does any work mostly because he’s way too fucking anxious to handle being on till but he’s funny and that’s all Peter cares about. Plus he’s awesome enough that no one else seems to notice that he doesn’t do much. Either that or everyone likes him too much to care.

“I hate closing shifts,” Kamala mumbles and Peter snorts.

“That makes two of us but fuck getting up in the morning,” he says, shaking his head. Morning shifts are slow as shit too so not only would he be up early but he’d have nothing to do. Fuck morning shifts. Actually no, fuck working in general, he misses stealing shit to get by but Bucky thinks its immoral to steal or whatever. Personally Peter likes to think of himself as Robin Hood except he’s only taking money for himself- if the public wants more of it they can steal their own shit.

“I already have school so you know, I’m used to it,” Kamala says.

Peter wrinkles his nose, “I’d say drop out but then I’d be a bad influence.”

Kamala laughs, “I’m pretty sure my parents would skin you if you told me to drop out and I listened.”

“Has anyone done the butter yet?” Bucky asks and Peter turns.

“No, not that I- why are you in the vat of pop corn?” he asks, frowning at Bucky sitting in the pop corn machine. Its not even empty either, he’s sitting in a giant ass vat of popcorn with food surrounding him.

“Monkey brain,” he says like that’s some kind of explanation.

Peter sighs. “When I was nine my mother died, I got kidnapped shortly thereafter, became a fucking conspiracy theory-” which he hadn’t even known about until he met Bucky. The guy reads way too many conspiracies. “-Ended up leading a life of crime so I could accumulate enough money to go to film school and also assimilate into the group of criminals I was kidnapped by. Went to film school with big dreams of being a director and writer that got sucked out by this shit place, and all for it to end with my boyfriend in a vat of popcorn explained away by ‘monkey brain’. I can’t even write that shit.” But then most of Bucky’s life is such a level of bizarre that he couldn’t write it. If he did he’d deem it unrealistic because Bucky attracts weird like nobody’s business. “Kamala, can you do the butter?” he asks her.

She sighs grumpily but agrees until Bucky interrupts, “I asked because I was gunna do it,” he says.

“You can clean out the popcorn vat,” Peter tells him and Bucky sulks, eating some of the popcorn that surrounds him. Kalama laughs as she pulls the butter from its warmer. Knowing how long those things sit there makes Peter feel almost bad for feeding it to people. But then he remembers half the customers shriek at him if he puts ice in their drinks and feels less bad.

“Can I go home? I hate it here,” Bucky says and Peter snorts.

“If I have to suffer so do you. Kamala, you go home, you have school tomorrow,” he says.

Kamala frowns, “I mean I’m leaving but we don’t have school on Saturdays, Peter.”

Bucky lets out a long whine, “how come she gets to go home? I’m the one dating you, give me special treatment.”

“Yeah, I also happen to know you pay half the rent and need the hours, Kamala’s only here to save money for college so she’s not missing out on much,” he says. “Now clean the vat.” Bucky sighs and mumbles something about Peter sucking the fun out of everything but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t like rent either but Bucky’s the one who insists they work shitty jobs for a living instead of just selling meth or robbing homes in rich areas.

“You’re the best,” Kamala tells him before she takes off. Man Peter wishes he could follow and leave this stupid job behind. Why couldn’t he have dated someone with no moral compass so he could avoid this hellhole?

“Do I still have to clean the vat?” Bucky asks and Peter nods.

“I’m not cleaning that shit,” he says.

“I thought you wanted weird experiences for your writing or whatever,” Bucky says and Peter frowns.

“I hope you know finding my boyfriend in a vat of popcorn is far weirder than cleaning it out,” he says. “Also I don’t feel like cleaning it out when I have to count literally everything in this damn place. Save me some of that popcorn,” he adds, earning a look from Clint like he has the right to issue out looks given his eating habits. Peter watched him eat an Oreo off the lobby floor once.

“His ass as been in there,” he says.

“Clint, I’ve ate is ass, why do you think that matters to me?” he asks, earning a gag from America across the room. “Oh hush, I’m sure you and Kate get up to worse,” he says to her. She gives him a doubtful look but he damn well knows Kate is probably into weird shit, she hangs out with Clint.

“Please don’t tell our coworkers about our sex life, I have to look them in the eye,” Bucky says, climbing out of the popcorn.

“Does he actually do anything around here or does he mostly just talk to you?” Clint asks.

Peter shrugs, “probably the latter but I mean are you complaining? Could you imagine this guy at a till? Dude is a human chihuahua.” He shakes at everything and sometimes has a lot of anger in unexpected places though Peter has to admit if he were Jewish and spotted a Nazi near him he’d punch the Nazi too. Except Bucky acted totally on instinct and went Full Human Chihuahua right after so it was a weird situation to be in and if Peter ever writes a comedy that is so going in it.

Clint snorts, “one time when he was on floor I watched this guy try to walk up to him and he basically ran away and left Loki to deal with it. I’m sure it went horribly wrong.”

“Actually I think Loki solved his problem and that reaffirms that I’m not fit to deal with people,” Bucky says, dumping popcorn into the trash.

“How do you date him?” Clint asks and Peter shrugs.

“Dude is so weird he inspires a crap ton of stories that no one will ever option,” he says and Bucky snorts.

“I’m sure it’ll happen eventually,” he says and yeah, maybe, but Peter is bored of writing for no audience. And also of serving ungrateful dipshits who scream about ice. Once he found a cockroach in the ice and he hopes some jackass customer has eaten one.

“Well when you hit it big remember that time I took your shift,” Clint tells him.

Peter squints, “you’ve never taken anyone’s shift ever. I know this because I help make the schedule.” Its a horrible job and he hates it.

“What I’m saying is that I want your money,” Clint tells him bluntly.

“Uh, I get his money first, you get it later,” Bucky says. “Also you want to scoop the rest of this popcorn?”

*

Peter considers the last year and a half of his life. “Do you ever think about the fact that Tony Stark basically paid you five million dollars to make him a drink?” Bucky asks.

“All the time because literally what the fuck.” He’d been closing, as usual, and then out of nowhere actual Tony fucking Stark walks up and practically begs for a drink. Peter had made a joke that he’d make it if Tony gave him the money to make a movie and the guy must have been some desperate for coke because he agreed. Peter is ninety percent sure the only reason people even went to see it is because Tony was the one who funded it but what the fuck ever man, he’s got a whole new project in the works and his last movie went over surprisingly well.

“I can’t believe real people are funding your space opera about your daddy issues,” Bucky says, shaking his head.

Peter snorts, “you get all the benefits so shush.”

Bucky grins, “well yeah, but a space opera about your daddy issues? That’s also a musical? That’s got to be a niche market.”

Not if Tony Stark is funding it but Peter has long known the guy was genius at marketing. Dude makes a shit ton of money, as evidenced by his paying a stupid amount of dollars over a joke Peter made. But like hell he was backing down from that. “It’ll sell. I mean people loved my weird sci-fi comedy that had a really odd sense of Millennial humor with an absurd amount of conspiracy theories in it,” he points out.

“Yeah, you’re officially in the Illuminati now. Tony invited you and now you’re trying to control the masses,” Bucky says, dead ass serious because he’s probably read whole Reddit threads on it or something. 

He considers that for a moment before looking back to Bucky. “First, please stop reading weird conspiracies about me. Two, do you have any idea how tempted I am to steal all of Tony’s shit always? You should be lucky I love you because he has some nice stuff and I could probably sell it for a lot of money.” He stared at that stupid expensive Rolex for so long Tony probably got suspicious at some point but Peter let him fuck around on set so he didn’t seem to care too much. Turns out Pepper Potts is terrifying though and for a hot second she took everything over to shoo Tony out.

“Actually I don’t really care if you steal from the rich but maybe not the rich guy who’s funding your shit. Steal from all his friends,” Bucky says and Peter blinks.

“Wait, what? I thought you had a thing against stealing!”

Buck shrugs, “I don’t count it if its from rich people who can replace it right away. Its like Robin Hood but selfish,” he says.

Peter stares at him for a long few moments before letting out a long string of swear words. “I’ve been avoiding stealing shit for three damn years and you didn’t even care the whole time? I’m robbing Betsy DeVos so blind she’s going to have to get laser eye surgery to correct it!” he says. He’s got plans.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, “save that line, its funny.”

#peter quill x bucky #fanfiction #writing #alternate universe

[your-hero-imagines]

Hello!! Do you have HCs for aizawa w a tattoo artist gf? I don't mean with those dainty hipster style tattoos (irrational, super tiny tats can smudge with age horribly) and maybe they met through Mic? I think he has plenty tattoos lol. NSFW too would be awesome, thank you (^•^)

Ok gurl I got you covered! :3(Ahhh I always wanted to have a tattoo but never dared to.)

_____________________

- It had always been your dream to move to Japan and open your own tattoo-studio. For many years worked hard at multiple side-jobs, and now you finally had collected enough money to fulfill your dreams. Your destination: Musutafu, the city of heroes!

- After only a short while, many heroes visited your studio already, asking you to design tattoos that would fit their hero name or quirk. Everyone was so amazed by your talent and creativity that even big names in the hero scene would visit you. How come no one ever thought of tattoos designed especially for heroes before? With the gear you tinkered yourself, you could even tatto most humans with mutation quirks.

- Hizashi has a show in his radio program where he interviews important people from Musutafu, and since your studio already skyrocketed, he invited you over. In the beginning, you were too nervous to even get a proper sentence out. You have been a huge fan of Present Mic for years, after all! But he was so nice and understanding that you warmed up really fast.

- The two of you had great fun together, even after the record was done. Since you got along so well and Hizashi is a rather straightforward guy, he asked if you want to stay in touch. So you’ve got yourself your first friend in this new, big city!

- He always wanted to get a tattoo some day, and his first should be made by you - but he had a big fear of needles. So one random day, he asks Aizawa to drink with him so he’d get the courage. Aizawa hates doing this stuff, and thinks it’s a bad idea to numb your fears with alcohol, but well…Hizashi is his friend, and he owed him one because Mic helped him out with that one mission a while ago.

- It ended in both of them being totally drunk, dropping by at your shop. You were quite unsure if you should really do it, since they were both so wasted, but Hizashi already told you a while ago that he wanted to drink before he gets himself a tattoo. Back then, you told him that sounds like a really shitty idea - yet you knew you can’t hold off that moron once he got an idea in his head. 

- He wanted to go big with his first one, and you’ve already made plans what tattoo would fit him a while ago, just for fun. When he sees the finished result, he hugs you and tells you you’re the most amazing friend one can wish for.

- Yet the man that came with Mic didn’t say a word until now. He didn’t even introduce himself, just sitting down and keeping on drinking sake. The whole time you’d be working on the tattoo, he’d be watching you closely. After you were done, he just plainly says “I want one, too.” 

- Hizashi just now realized he never introducted you two to each other, so he apologized. “Ah, that’s my fault. This is my friend Aizawa. He’s a rather quiet one, but he’s one of my best friends!” “Stop hugging me” the grumpy man replied. You had to laugh about those unlikely friends, asking “And you’re sure he wants one, too?” “Yeah, yeah. He talked about it for weeks, I swear!”

- “So, what do you want then, shy boy?” you smirked. He blankly stares at you for a while, his cheeks completely red from the alcohol, before yelling “I want a cat!” That was pretty little information, but you came up with an idea. Hizashi already told you about Eraserhead before, of course. He was a hero of the night, an assassin, rather. You were quite satisfied with the result.

- When you finished, he showed a small smile on his face as he looked at the little kitty. “You’re pretty talented” he mumbled while petting your head for some reason. “Don’t mind him” Mic intervents, “He always gets pretty clingy after a certain amount of alcohol.” You decided to close the shop then (you made enough money at this time that you could choose when to work), starting to drink together with them. Aizawa started to hug your arm, flustering something like “You’re my friend now…” Well, like this, you met your second friend: Aizawa Shouta, also known as Eraserhead.

- The next day, you’d put his name in google search. Mic always swarm about his “bestie”, yet you really imagined someone…else. But you always liked the quiet, profound ones, after all. His appearance was rather scrubby, but it had something manly about it. There wasn’t much about Eraserhead to be found on the internet, but you gave him his phone number.

- When finally waking up, Aizawa realizes the tattoo and gets pretty pissed on the inside, his outside remaining calm. “That’s why I hate alcohol. It makes you go irrational.” So the first message you got from him wasn’t the one you liked to get: He complained about that’s bodily harm and scolded you about doing something like that to an obviously drunk. Will beat up Hizashi after you tell him it’s his fault.

- Slowly remembering how he tried to cuddle you, he’d even get more embarassed, not even answering to your apology texts and just tries to forget the evening. For the first time, he’d just cover the tattoo up - but the longer he looks at it, the more he likes it.

- Will come back to your shop eventually, wanting to have more. The next one is free due to the inconvenience you caused. He doesn’t really care about the way he looks actually, but having tattoos was something he never thought about before. It kinda fascinated him to have such beautiful pictures all over his body. After a while, his whole arm and back were covered. You really loved having him as customer - truth spoken, also because you had an excuse to see him undressed like that. Damn, that man is way more muscular than he looks like.

- It wouldn’t just stay with you doing the tattoo and him leaving after. The two of you would kill some time together, enjoying nice talks and drinking some coffee. You first got into conversation with him finding out that you both equally loved cats, then both hating over the media.

- It’s been weeks now, and Aizawa even happened to visit your shop occasionally to look after you, and you sending him text from time to time. He finds himself being way more talkative around you - wanting to know more about your life, even though he found it irrational since it served no further purpose to know that.

- Meanwhile Hizashi could already tell the days when Aizawa’s going to visit you. He couldn’t really concentrate the whole day and wasn’t able to fall asleep for naps either. So he tried to help his two friends get together as often as he could - inviting both of you over to do something trimerous, and then just not showing up himself. Since you both hated social events, you’d just stick with going to your place and enjoying watching a movie or something.

- Aizawa isn’t stupid, so he realizes that he developed romantic feelings towards you. But he was really inexperienced about how to deal with that. When he’d be at your place he’d start to act as desinterested as possible - so you wouldn’t notice how nervous he was. Tries to tease you way more often, enjoying that you’d get mad and poking him (well, that’s at least some kind of bodily contact). Tries to tickle you, so you’d fall over and he lands on top of you - but then he’d not dare to kiss you. Hizashi told you he’s not one for physical contact, but you just couldn’t help but hug him at that moment - he looked so sad for some reason.

- After Hizashi had a long talk with him (Aizawa wouldn’t say anything at all actually), Aizawa decided that his friend was right for once. You were a special exception for him, and he wanted to make you his. So next time you’d see each other, he would totally show you that he cares about you! It may be weird since he doesn’t know how to start, but he’ll do it his way - trying to compensate his uncertainty with dumb jokes.

- One time, when you made a special appointment with him after you already closed the shop for other customers, he asks you for another tattoo - this time near his scrotch. He smirks gleeful as he sees you turning brightly red while he undresses. It’s really pleasing to him to make you feel this nervous. Will tease you “Hehe, don’t tell me you enjoy this? That’s not very professional towards a customer.”

- You try to not respond to him trying to mock you. But you couldn’t avoid to stare too obviously. Just when you began to panick, he’d just take your hand and places it on his chest. “No need to just watch.”

- “You’re not drunk again, aren’t you?” “Not in the slightest” he whispers in your ear, before softly holding your face in his hands and starting to kiss you. “You’ve seen me undressed so many times before - why don’t we make it even right now?”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #hizashi yamada #present mic #oc #original character #character x reader #tattoo #romance #headcanon #writing #anon #ask

[noonkey]

stupid very long ravagers/yondu GOTG post

OK UH u guys know this is my Wont Shut the Fuck Up Dome so here we go:

I have a headcanon based on Kraglin’s interactions w Peter and the cut line from the end of the movie where hes giving him the Zune and Krag says “just like when we were kids” and i REALLY like the concept of Krag and Peter being like 2 scrappy kids growing up on the ship, maybe Kraglin having been older like teenageish when they picked Peter up on Earth. I think Kraglin was in a similar situation to Yondu when he joined the Ravagers (like many i assume) and was given the whole rundown of the Code and everything, and then immediately started throwing his whole heart into becoming the best Ravager and crew member possible. That’s where the resentment started to grow when they picked up Peter, since he was this little snot nosed kid who probably wanted to go home and didn’t want any part in the Ravagers; since to Kraglin it was the opportunity of his life and he had so much loyalty to Yondu and the Code and whatnot, he must’ve been incredibly annoyed at Peter for acting that way. Krag also had no context for a loving blood-family or fond memories of home (like most of the crew I would think) so Peter’s homesickness and rejection of the Ravager lifestyle would probably not have made any sense to him. Still, the line that was cut is “(Alice Cooper) seems kinda angry, but kinda like the stuff we felt when we were kids..” so I think they still managed to bond over their shitty childhoods and angsty teen feelings. The difference though is that Peter would and could backtalk/disobey Yondu a whole lot more than Kraglin was willing to or thought he could get away with. I don’t think Kraglin or any of them nessecarily thought about the fact that these were still formative years in Peter’s life, since they probably all hadn’t been afforded any sort of ‘normal’ upbringing/childhood. 

I also think the Zune (even tho in the film it was p much just a funny joke abt that shitty electronic lol) was so so telling of Yondu’s true conflicted fatherly feelings abt Peter. In GoTG1 we understand Yondu has a lot of hesitation about killing Peter as he would any other deserter, and imo in the scene where Peter bargains for the Ravagers to help take down Ronin it seemed like Yondu was waiting for him to say that exact thing, as if they were both playing a part in this performance so that the crew wouldn’t catch on to the favoritism. But the symbology of the Zune; Yondu going out of his way to get something extremely rare and meaningful for Peter during his absence in the hopes of him coming back one day but being too emotionally stunted himself to actually reach out to his son, makes me wanna die lol. 

ALSO side note - seeing that Ego’s car was bright blue and orange like the Milano made me think - we know Peter learned to drive the Milano starting when he was 10. Which means that about a year into his stay with the Ravagers, Yondu not only taught him how to pilot an M-ship at that time, but also either let him pick out which one he wanted, or got him a custom paint job. I just think that is sweet/something small stuck in there to indicate how Peter’s upbringing really went. 

The Ravagers being very emotionally stunted Feelings Boys is also my fave fucking thing abt the movie bc it applies to all of them as well as Rocket, Peter, and actually most of the Guardians crew. Not in a ‘its cute that these characters have issues expressing their feelings’ way bc thats gross, but just bc that representation hit home very very hard for me. Even though these scenes were also joking, whenever the Ravagers are shown being silly together, sleeping together, being sensitive in their downtime, etc., its so telling of a community that silently acknowledges the fact that they are all putting on a farce to deal w their own emotional traumas and shortcomings, and that silent acknowledgment is what allows some or most of them to connect on meaningful levels. All of this being under a moral Code that almost gives them an excuse to not be evil or “too mean”, because personally I don’t think any of them want to be. That’s why I think Taserface incited such a nasty aspect of the Ravagers; he took the outward image too far and wasn’t at all tuned into the sense of community in the crew. Its a weird balance but I think its what held Yondu’s crew together for so long, and something that all the captains value. I think Taserface’s mutiny was an example of some of the “worst eggs” identifying and getting rid of the “best eggs” on the crew, and I think Yondu unfortunately knew that the balance had been overturned; a point of no return had been reached. 

The Guardians are doing this emotionally repressed shit but Better bc they are learning the value of being open w one another, and I think the tight-knit size of the group also allows for this. However i really really think that the parallels between Peter and Yondu in the context of being a part of a group of Assholes with Issues is very very big. 

Back to the terrible heart wrenching Yondu HCs- I think the last line Yondu says is actually a really accurate reflection of what he’s been feeling “I’m damn lucky you was my boy.” To me, Yondu only really came to terms with how much he cared for Peter after he left to do his own thing. I really feel that in the events after the first movie when Peter has his own ‘crew’ is when Yondu would’ve begun to feel the emptiness of that hole and realize just how much he had benefited  in the heart from having a ‘son’ all those years. He may have taught Peter all this skills and given him the resources he needed to succeed, but he could only consider Peter to be ‘ungrateful’ while he was still around. I don’t think Yondu understood the value of their relationship to him until after it was too late. And of course since he had never been vocal about any of his feelings and probably was incredibly coarse about receiving any affection from Peter, he was trapped. I think it was in this period of time that the crew started believing Yondu to be weak - seeing him buy expensive Terran trinkets, noticing him be more and more despondent, maybe overhearing/witnessing him attempting to make calls to Peter that were never returned, just in general not keeping up his image well enough for them to also feel confident and comfortable. 

Anyways thats half of my Pirate/Space Pirate TED talk and half of my Why Michael Rooker’s Portrayal of Space Dad Brought my Depression Back monologue. thank u

#long post #yondu udonta #GoTG2 #ravagers

[piesforjack]

LISTEN Y'ALL, HERES A CANADIAN COLLOQUIALISMS AND MANNERS GUIDE

because frankly i’m tired of the misuse of our colloquialisms/slang/vernacular/manners/habits in fic so it’s time for this canadian to set the record straight!!!!!

1. “sorry”

i feel like y'all really miss the boat on this, we (henceforth read as: canadians) say sorry ALL. THE. TIME. it's not a joke!! it's real bad!!! i apologize to furniture when i bump into it, y'all!!!! SO if you wanna give jack and ransom some real authentic canadian lingo, have them apologize for nothing worth apologizing for, not just in excess when they do something actually worthy of apology

examples (all based on REAL LIFE things i’ve done): 

*someone bumps into you* (even though it wasn’t your fault at all) oop sorry! 

*not having exact change in your hand when paying for something so you take a second to pull out a nickel* sorry!

*dropping something near/in front of/beside another person* oh sorry!

*asks for substitution or change to a burger or sandwich* sorry, yeah can i get this instead of this? (and have crippling anxiety while asking  just me? hoookay that sounds fake but!!!)

2. holding the door open

listen i didn’t realize how distinctly canadian this was until i was abroad for 2 weeks and felt the real switch from small acts of manners and kindness replaced with absolutely no fucking care in the world for any human that isn’t you. stairwells and doors and any form of public transportation are an “every person for themselves” kinda deal and it’s weird. i will always hold the door open if i notice someone behind me (if i don’t, you bet ur fuckin ass i apologize for not holding it open) 

examples:

even if i get to a door first, if i notice someone behind me i’ll hold the door open for them and let them go first. this isn’t even an age or sex/gender thing, people will do this for anyone, not just the elderly or the female.

if someone holds the door open for me, i’ll pass through and say thank you and if there’s a second set of doors (like in some bookstores and malls and stuff they have those little foyer-like rooms before the actual store) i will hold the door open for them on the second set. always.

3. “bud”/”buddy”

truly a canadian staple that does not get utilized enough!!!! i can’t think of a single person in my life i haven’t called “buddy” at least once, including my lil ol’ grandmother. though typically when i use “buddy” i’m cussing someone out (see examples below!) we sound particularly minnesotan when we say "buddy” which is why i think a lot of people think we have this ridiculous accent (because FUN FUCKIN FACT: the canadian accent is NOWHERE NEAR THE LEVEL OF MINNESOTAN!!! we. do. not. sound. like. that. only “”””bros””””” (typically hockey bros (see: sidney crosby) or “country” boys (see: literally any fucking canadian boy who hunts/fishes/wears a cowboy hat unironically)) sound like this, the canadian “accent” americans mock? totally fucking fake mOVING ON)

“bud” however, that’s a sweet lil thing. it’s actually very much a term of endearment, so to say, i’ve only ever used it when talking to children and s/o’s. it’s not the only term of endearment canadians ever use (ahem, fic writers take note of that) but it’s definitely one that people use and it’s very cute and soft™

examples:

*cussing someone out over a video game/a joke that i have no comeback for/bad driving/etc.* “get fucked, buddy” “oh you’re fucked, buddy” “yeh fuckin right, buddy” etc. etc.

*accidentally taps child on the back of the head* oop, sorry bud!

*s/o says “i love you”* aw bud, i love you too

AND THE RARE BUT SOMETIMES SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE: “BUDDY” AS ENDEARMENT ie. “aw c’mon, buddy, you’re doing great!” (this is most often done by (hockey) bros to children, but i’m sure there’s other situations where this happens)

4. “oop”

again, another one i didn’t realize was canadian until buzzfeed said so. but tbh i use this one so fucking much i’m so sad that i haven’t seen a single fic where jack or ransom use this. it’s like...oops without the ‘s’? that’s really it, but it’s not just for “oops” situations, it’s like a expletive for many things and you just kinda gotta feel it in ur gut, i can’t really explain how/why i know when to use it so tread lightly, but know that this is probably the most popular right up there with “sorry” in terms of usage.

examples:

*watching hockey, fave team almost scores* oop oop oop! awwww f*#$U$%*#$%*! (they didn’t score) or oop oop oop! YAAAAAAH HELL FUCKIN YEEEEEEEEAH BABY WOOOOO!!!!!!!! (they did)

*bumps into someone* oop sorry!

*surprise burp* oop sorry!

*fumbles with something, almost drops it* oop oop oOP!

*does drop something* oop.. *picks it up*

*dodging and weaving through a crowd* oop, sorry..oop oop sorr-- oop!

5. “no problem”

now my understanding is that this is more an age thing than it is a canadian thing, but i feel like in true polite canadian fashion this phrase gets used more and more by a wider demographic than it originally started with. this is basically a replacement for “you’re welcome” because imo “you’re welcome” makes it sound like you’ve done someone a huge favour for them, and i mean, it seems weird to basically say “yeah, you ARE thankful because I HELPED you so yeah BE THANKFUL!” when someone like..holds the door open, y’know? like i said, i’ve heard this is a generation thing and lots of younger people say this instead, so it could be more widespread, but not many other countries say “thank you” as much as we do, so. who really knows tbh.

examples:

*holds door for someone, they say thank you* no problem! (because really, it wasn’t a problem, it was just the nice thing to do and it didn’t cause me any trouble at all to do it. you don’t have to be thankful for this act of kindness but fuck u if u don’t say thank you for it anyway, buddy)

*works in retail, helps someone find something* no problem! (because again, it’s not a problem, esp in this situation it’s my fucking job to help y’all so like? duh?? but same rules apply, if you don’t say thank u i’ll fucking remember it, pal)

*works in retail, can’t help someone find something, customer has to leave/find something else/etc* “alright, thanks anyway” “yeah no problem, sorry!” (because fucking duh, you get it by now)

6. FUCKING “EH”

HOOO FUCKIN BOY WE NEED TO HAVE A CHAT ABOUT THE ATROCITY THAT IS FIC WRITERS EXCESSIVELY AND IMPROPERLY USING THIS TERM. here’s some things to fucking clarify RIGHT FUCKIN NOW: we DO NOT end every sentence with “eh”, “eh” is not always a fucking question, it’s not said how you think it is, “eh” isn’t always tacked on to any fuckin sentence.

okay cool now that that’s fucking out of the way...”eh” is more often used as a filler word, not always like an “um” or a “uhh”, more like a “hey” or a cheer like “ehhhh!” but it’s not as often used as people like to write it into conversation. as of right now i can’t even remember the last time i used “eh” when i wasn’t making a fuckin mockery of how americans THINK we talk. 

“eh” has different pronunciations as well, each one has a different purpose and place in speech. eh pronounced like “a” is usually a cheer (like “ehhhh!!! we fuckin won!!!), pronounced exactly like its spelled is like a question (like “eh? i can’t hear you.), pronounced like “ayy” or “hey” without the “h” is like a greeting or after someone burns someone with a comeback or ur fave song comes on in the club etc etc

basically, what you’re noticing is that “eh” is actually more widely common than you fuckin think it is. it’s not exclusively canadian, and YES!!! there is the stereotypical “eh?” or “eh!” that certain pockets of people will use, again it sort of falls under that hockey/country bro-ish type (to clarify, because idk if i did this or not, “bro” is a gender neutral term, girls or otherwise can also be bros, i use it neutrally, sorry if that wasn’t clear!) but again!!! it’s not used at every turn and it’s VERY unlikely that if you went up to a canadian with ur shitty “eh?!” impression that they would be anything more than stone-faced and weary at your attempt at humour.

examples:

eh, how are you?

eh, to-may-to to-mah-to

FUCKIN. EH!! (usually an expletive when something amazing happens, usually about sports, usually more specifically about hockey, but u knooow)

*making a decision that takes some thinking* ehhhh...maybe?

*hesitantly wanting to go past/around/through a crowd* eh...excuse me...oop sorry! oh go ahead..no problem!

7. bonus canada facts for fleshing out ur stories/hcs!!!

canada has our own football league, yeah i fucking know. all those tropes about jack and ransom not knowing football? actual garbage, they probably know the basics at the very least. if they like football, ransom probably roots for the toronto argonauts (whom most people fuckin hate, along with the maple leafs (hockey team) because canada has this *thing* with toronto, i won’t get into that right now but just know, majority of canada wants nothin to do with toronto sports teams) and jack probably roots for the montreal alouettes because duh (alternatively he roots for something hella random like the saskatchewan rough riders, whom, as a manitoban, i hate by birthright) some of the CFL rules are different from the NFL but yeah, canada has a football league so. kill that trope.

jack and ransom probably know something about curling and/or can actually curl!! curling, btw, is an ice sport where you throw rocks at other rocks (not like, just any old rocks, it’s...just google it honestly i don’t wanna try and explain curling) i know when i was in school curling was always a part of gym in the winter because we had outdoor rinks nearby or one of my elementary schools actually made a curling rink (with the circles and everything!)

“canadian tuxedo” is double denim. meaning, denim shirt, denim pants = canadian tuxedo. jack is 1000000% guilty of doing this.

canada gets real fuckin cold but it also gets real fuckin hot, especially in central canada but also other places too. jack being overwhelmed by georgian heat is probably real HOWEVER he’s not a total dumbass who can’t function in the heat. canada’s weather is a fuckin gong show regardless of global warming so like, jack will sweat but he will not melt into a puddle

yeah anyway here’s a list of obscure canadian things (and some that are just #90sKidThings) ransom and/or jack probably know/love aka me going tf down memory lane!!!: don’t you put it in your mouth,  stay alert stay safe, the talking tv that scarred me for life, “moooom aiden cut me half again!!!”, they probably believed north american house hippos were a thing for a long ass time because they didn’t understand the point of the commercial, tales from the crypt aka my fave show, the weekenders!!!, jack probably loved art attack because sensory things!! visuals!! calm voice!! basically bob ross for kids!!!, BEAR IN THE BIG BLUE HOUSE!!! HOOOMG, if you don’t know what this is I’M SO SORRY YOU MISSED OUT ON THE BEST THING EVER, ransom 100% had all the stuffies of these guys, out of the mcfuckin bOX, ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM, G2G OFF TO DRAGONLAND, you knew you were up TOO LATE if you were watching this, i could cry this show was so fckn good jack 100% loved this, idk if this was just a canadian thing but i fckn LOVED THIS ONE SO MUCH

honestly i could go on for fuckin ever but i’ll stop because god bless anyone who actually watches all those links lmao

i hope this was helpful!!! not tryna be a twat but i just wanted to clear some stuff up because i feel it’s my duty as a canadian to help y’all out, ok??? okay luv u bye thanks for reading!!!

#mine #canadian guide #here u go friends #enjoy i spent way too long writing this lmao

[that-one-underfell-comic]

how do you know??????

oh my gosh. the fact that the dead crying child is in the box in fnaf 4? that is going to be difficult to explain since scott cawthon has created the most convoluted plot of all time. but i’ll do my best

so, the basics. the crying child, his brother, and the girl with the green eyes and red pigtails are all children of purple guy. i dont know if he adopted them or if somehow he managed to convince some woman(women?) to have children with him and she(they?) left him. but it doesnt matter. because purple guy loves his children very much and he would do anything for them. including killing children who hurt his youngest. :) 

cause you see, what happened was his youngest happened to witness a couple of guys in some golden suits suddenly start bleeding to death while they screamed uncontrollably. luckily his brother and sister were in school at the time, but unfortunately purple guy couldnt protect his youngest in time. :(

so now the little guy has ptsd and is horrified of the golden animatronics. and he cant help but cry a lot now. so purple guy made some non-golden animatronics and humans cant die inside them now! yay! :D this helps a bit, but still the crying child cries so much. purple guy is very protective so much so that he becomes a morning security guard. (also purple guy didnt bother to tell his other children what happened to the crying child, because look at how much his one child got hurt. he doesnt want the others to get hurt too! D: [and, of course, the other children who witnessed the guys dying didnt ever come back to the restaurant, for obvious reasons])

and, the other children are making fun of his youngest because he cries so much! what to do? simple enough, kill the little bastards. they were just gonna grow up into shitty people anyway. cant take any chances. and, as we know, the older brother starts to make fun of him too and pulls bad pranks just to scare him. if you told purple guy this he’d be like, “what? what are you talking about? we are a loving family who cares for each other very much and I dont quite like your insinuation. >:l” and then he might cut your brakes.

so he trusts the older brother to take care of the youngest, so much so that he doesnt supervise them. (cause apparently i have a job to do and cant spend time with my child. >:( {also gotta take care of all those kids in the back room. springtrap suits are very handy dandy}) so the inevitable happens. the bite of 87 occurs with the older brother and his friends shoving the crying child into golden freddy’s mouth. 

the crying child is in the hospital with purple guy and his brother visiting. turns out he’s in a coma and the doctor says that his son will never wake up again. although he can be kept alive on life support. but thats as good as him being dead!! purple guy just has to find a way to get his son back. 

hmm, actually, some weird spooky things have been happening back at the restaurant. and purple guy has felt some chills lately. its almost like ghost children are haunting the place. and purple guy has been noticing some hallucinations recently too. they kinda attacked him. felt more like jumpscares honestly. so, it looks like ghosts do in fact exist. if purple guy can just figure out how to get his brain-dead son’s ghost to inhabit an animatronic… or maybe a puppet, then he’d get his son back and they can be one big happy family again! 

and since these ghosts came to be after they were dead, that means its not necessary to keep his son alive. purple guy says he’ll take his son off life support and have a private funeral. of course, itd be really difficult to get his corpse once its buried 6 feet underground. so lets just, keep him in this locked chest. once me and my older son michael figure out how to get his soul to possess a puppet then we’ll unlock it. 

but until then, perhaps some things are best left forgotten, for now. 

*cue the plot of fnaf sister location with micheal being the character you control*

*once thats over, fnaf 1 begins, also playing the character michael*

*then fnaf 3, with micheal being springtrap*

i have spent so many hours agonizing over this plot. and i skipped over a bunch of details cause this is already long enough. there is no such thing as a coincidence in these games. 

for example, remember the pink slip mike schmidt got? it says he tampered with the animatronics and he had odor? yeah, he had that smell cause he was actually a ghost possessing his own corpse. what was once a funny joke suddenly now has creepy implications. 

and did you know that scott told us who did the bite of 87 in fnaf 1? when you type in 1987 into custom night you get the golden freddy jumpscare. crazy right? 

scott is insane and he’s driven me insane with his crazy 20,000 piece puzzle. but luckily he has, in fact, given us enough puzzle pieces to figure out the entire plot. it just takes, in total, several days worth of thinking to figure it all out. 

umm, as to how i pieced it together from the games info. i questioned why the box could be important. tools? animatronic parts? dead children? it was really difficult to tell, and i wasnt convinced by matt patts theory of it being the puppet. 

lets see, the game ended with the crying child surrounded by his toys as they slowly fade away. i kinda assumed that they signified that purple guy murdered their counterparts. his other son and his friends. and then the crying child also slowly fades away after purple guy says, ‘i will put you back together.’ and then in sister location they describe how purple guy made these robots to kidnap children. and these seem like pretty extreme lengths to go to kidnap somebody. he typically kills kids. why kidnap? and these animatronics are now possessed by ghosts. and things just kinda fall into place. 

its all connected. he kidnaps the kids to figure out how they keep on living despite being dead and how they connect themselves to inanimate objects. and at the end of sister location we hear micheal talking to himself about how hes going to find his dad with springtrap walking into the scene. with micheals words we can tell that he knew about what his father did and perhaps was even involved. and perhaps because he was involved he knew how to keep his own soul living and attached it to his own corpse. (which means that purple guy didnt kill his own son. how dare i assume)

but why would they need to know how to attach a soul to an inanimate object? well, the son with a chunk of their brain ripped out and is currently in a coma would be a very good motivator. and, of course, having the body is necessary since the soul has an attachment to it. though its kinda hard to steal a body from a hospital. better play the ‘dad making the harshest decision of his life’ card and take his child off life support and keep the body. we’ll have a private funeral, family only. thats the easiest way to get nobody to question things. 

now where to put the body until we need it? a locked box sounds perfect

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #theory #i love #scott cawthon #but also i hate him #for all the hoops i had to jump through to figure this out #of course if the hoops werent there i wouldnt be so invested #BUT STILL #not undertale/fell #answering asks #Anonymous

[moonchildlostonearth]

Moon Child

Prologue

It was late at night, in one of those nights where there are no stars out on the dark cloudy sky. One of those nights you don’t understand why but your body shivers even with the summer heat and you feel some kind of unbearable sadness flowing all over your body.

Ewell in his room was focusing on something behind his cards, and for a second, something unexpected happened on his face; he looked preoccupied. First he let the cards he was looking at a moment, came to the window trying to see some stars in the sky, but even the moon seemed to be missing above his head.

And once again on this face the same expression, he wasn’t wrong. Something was happening. Something probably everything but good. Something maybe dangerous.

Slowly he raised up and carefully tidy up his cards, blown off some candles and closed the curtains. Then, as if everything was normal he went out of his room and sat in the sofa, next to his roommate and best friend, Collin who was playing a video game. One that Ewell hated, where you must kill some zombies and when your character is hurt your screen has blood, the more the character is hurt, the more there is blood on the screen.

“- Why isn’t Sasha here tonight?

- Killing zombies isn’t her thing ya know

- You should ask her to come...”

Collin didn’t know why his friend suddenly wanted his girlfriend to be with them, but he totally trusted Ewell, moreover he knew his friend had a pretty sharp intuition and when he wanted someone or something to be then it was meant to be like that. So, without asking more question, even if it was already 1 am, Collin grabbed his phone and called his girlfriend. Hanging out less than two minutes later.

“I’m going to pick her at her parent’s house, I don’t want her to come alone by night, wanna come?”

Ewell didn’t even answer, his job here was done and Collin knew it when he left their apartment not waiting for a verbal answer from his friend. Now alone, Ewell stopped the console, without even saving the game, Collin was a pro at this, it wouldn’t take him long to come to the point where he left it. And a tiny part of his anxiety flied away: the only people he cared about would be here with him, safe. So now, the worst could happen.

On the morning, something weird happened. In fact, it was supposed to be the morning since the red clock was showing 8:00 am, but the sun wasn’t there, it was still night and only darkness outside. Ewell was glad it was Sunday because he didn’t want to go outside, some of his instincts told him it was more than just the night in the day. A lot more.

He lazily got out of his bed, then left his bedroom and while he let the coffee machine start he switched on the TV on news channel to see if there was something about the sky.

When his coffee was ready he just sat down with his phone checking some social medias and pay half attention to the TV.

Soon he felt Sasha sating on the sofa next to him.

“-Is that some kind of eclipse today?

- Don’t think so…

- Yeah, we usually know when it happens… nobody told anything about this.”

They felt into silence, thinking about it when a hoarse voice broke the silence again.

“- Guys it’s super dark today, what the fuck with the weather?”

Collin made some coffee for him and Sasha, then sat with them, watching the TV trying to catch up what was happening.

“- So the moon is still out even if it’s supposed to be the day?

- That’s it yes…”

None of them thought about making fun of Collin’s conclusions as they would have normally do, it seemed too important to joke about anything right now.

“-D’ya think it’s the end of the world?

- Not quite, but something bad is happening…

- You knew it yeah? You asked me to pick up Sasha yesterday.

- I didn’t knew what it would be.

- Then what do we do?

- We just stay inside. I can’t say why but I think there is something far more dangerous than just the night outside.

- ‘kay, then let’s bake a cake!”

That was just how Collin was, and that was also why the trio was glad he was here today. Because who else would have just wanted to bake a cake to change the mood without trying to understand everything and making what was happening a huge problem.

Cake all baked, reality ferociously called back. At the end of the day, while Collin was making food and Sasha playing with Ewell’s hair they put the TV on again and what they saw was just some kind of nightmare you want to wake up as soon as possible.

Not only the sun didn’t show at all but also there were around tens people found in the street, in a deep coma.

Ewell was the only one who didn’t look surprised at all.

- Dude, what’s that? Is it some sort of epidemic coma? I didn’t knew coma was contagious.

- Don’t be stupid Collin, that’s not contagious and that can’t be epidemic…

While the couple were debating about coma being epidemic or not, Ewell cleared a little his throat, as he was always doing when he was about to make longer sentences than usual.

- With what I saw yesterday, what the starts were telling me for days and what happens now I think I know what it is. I don’t know how it happened but a breach opened in the sky, we didn’t see moon or stars yesterday because it wasn’t the sky but a hole. And from that gap, some sort of… I don’t know what word use for this… some sort of shadow? Yeah, those “shadows” went to our world, but our human bodies are not made for that. So when someone crosses a “shadow” the body just… yeah…

- But they said they’re in coma, they’re not dead aren’t they

- Not yet… but that’s something far from planet earth and I don’t know how a human body would survive. It’s like a collision between two existences but one weren’t strong enough.

Sasha took her sweetest voice:

- Ewell… you should call the police and tell them about what you know.

He didn’t answer, didn’t even needed to because Collin did it for him.

- Seriously Sash’, they gonna think he’s just some kind of crazy bastard. Once he said there will be a new star in the sky before the scientifics said it and ya should have seen what they’ve done to him. Those fuckers just called him a witch and made shitty jokes ‘bout burning him. Luckily I was there to beat their ass before they even dare to try!

- You’re right… People aren’t ready for someone… special…

- Yeah, the world isn’t ready for fabulous. Glad we’re!

Time passed, and people started to be accustomed to it. It took three days before the day came back. And then once or twice a week, the phenomenon happened again.  Scientists were clever enough to link this with the comas and luckily, the day before it happens there was scary noises, like an earthquake but without any shaking. Then, it was sure in the hours to go it would come again.

The city changed and when those noises were heard there were public announcement with megaphone, now all around the city, to ask everybody to come back home, or at least inside. If you couldn’t reach your home, others citizens were in the obligation of welcoming you in their houses.

And even if the first people victims of coma still hadn’t wake up there was only a few new ones because everybody was so careful.

Life was almost back to normal. It was amazing how humans could adapt. And then, when they feel safe, something unexpected happens.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon, at 3p.m and 13 minutes, when the coffee shop was almost empty. Ewell was cleaning the counter, lining up some cakes, only one customer at a table slowly drinking his coffee. It wasn’t the first time he came here so Ewell thought maybe he was working near because he was almost always here at the same hour every day, and he also came early in the morning, still not totally awake. He would take something to eat in the morning, but not the afternoon. Even if it was a take-out for morning and not the afternoon.

Ewell couldn’t help but notice when someone was a regular with habits, it was the kind of useless things that get stuck in his memory but that made him good at his job because usually people like when someone notice their habits.

Without any warning a cold wind hit the door without opening it, only coming with darkness. Suddenly night was all over.

And there wasn’t any alarm.

Ewell didn’t saw that coming.

Luckily he had good reactions and run to the door to lock it and when he went as fast to close the curtains he noticed the customer was helping him doing the same.

Finally in the dark Ewell turned on the light, not knowing if he should say something or not. Not that the man was impressive, even if he was, all tall and with a huge scar on his sharp face, but Ewell wasn’t intimidated, he just didn’t know what to say in this kind of situation. Didn’t know what to say in general.

- That was unexpected…

Taking the initiative, the other man spoke first. Already too tense to bear any silence on top of the scary events that happened. He was so scared and didn’t understand how the waiter with him could be so impassive. He looked at him and his face was showing nothing. And seeing him like that he wasn’t sure anymore if it was really a boy, his face was so delicate. He looked so fragile, but from his attitude he looked so strong.

- By the way, I’m Ash. I don’t know if you really want to know my name but since it seems like we’re gonna be stuck in there for a moment I thought it was a good idea to tell you my name.

From this man way of speaking Ewell knew he was polite and from a good social circle but he probably grew up in a poor context because he had some of Collin’s accents.

- Ewell 

- It’s nice to meet you Ewell… even if yeah.. it’s not really a meeting since I come almost everyday and you also almost work here everyday…But still nice to meet you…

Ash’s smile was breathetaking, even with the fear in his eyes. He quickly understood Ewell wasn’t talkative so without waiting for any answer he just asked him some questions.

- What do we do now? Is there anyone else here?

- No… pastry chef is only here in morning and at this hour the shop needs only one waiter.

- Then what do we do?

Still Ewell didn’t answer but started to pick all the cushion on the chairs and went to the backroom, putting all the cushions on the floor, closely followed by Ash, then after some minutes of research in the cupboard he found a thin blanket and put it on the cushion.

- That’s all I can do…

- You think we’ll have to sleep here? Maybe it will pass before.

- No.

Ash was a little surprised by the confidence in what the boy was saying but he believed him. It didn’t seem that Ewell was presumptuous so if he was so sure about it, it might be true.

- Luckily it happened in a coffee shop, we have something to eat. In a library, we would have books to read but nothing to eat, so I rather be in the coffee shop!

Ewell didn’t say anything but he was glad to be with someone who could joke about it, he would have gone mad if he was stuck with someone screaming or crying. He quickly texted Collin to make sure he was safe and at the same time Ash also took his phone and called some person to explain where he was and telling them he was safe and inside.

After a moment they went back to the shop, with some drinks in an absolute silence that lasted for minutes.

- Can we talk please? I don’t know how you do that, being so calm, but if I don’t think about something else I’ll panick.

- I have nothing to say…

- If I ask you questions would you answer? I can answer to it too. Believe me, I can do a big part of the talking.

- Ok…

- Why are you working here?

- To pay my apartment… but I’m also studying…

- I’m working in a garage, and I never even went to college. What are you studying? ‘you living alone? How old are you by the way?

Ewell gave a hint of a smile, too much questions. It took him time to get accustomed to having a casual conversation with a stranger, but in the end it wasn’t as hard as he thought it would and talking with Ash was sort of natural. At the end of the day they weren’t even trying to speak, it was flowing like two friends having a casual conversation.

Before going to their almost bed Ewell changed back to his own clothes, it doesn’t took long to Ash to understand how hard it should be for him to wear that uniform.

Once both laid down on the cushion’s bed the atmosphere went darker, with the real night also came fears. Would the sun rise tomorrow? Would some unexpected “nights” come again? How many people in coma? Would it stop one day? And go back to normal? Would someone they love be touched? Would they be touched? When Ash started to speak again, it was like a whisper and if they weren’t sharing the same bed there is no way Ewell would have hear him.

- Ain’t you scared?

- No..

- How do you do it?

- Life happens. And I’m not afraid of the sky…

- But… it can hurt! Look at those people in coma now… How can’t you be scared of that?

- I’m not afraid of the sky.

Ewell hadn’t say that much about his “power” to Ash, but without knowing why if he was saying it, Ash started to feel comforted. It was strange how this tiny boy was giving him a security feeling, but he was glad of it. Because even with the world falling apart, he could sleep until the sunrise in the morning.

After this summer, nothing would ever be like it used to be.