impicciche
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Shane thought, through the kisses and the feeling of Ryan's skin all over his, too much but not enough, I will not.
Between the light ending up off and the clumsy hands in a dark room, the floorboards that hide secrets despite not being theirs, he thought to himself, I will not fall in love with him.
The tabernacle reconstructed.
He falls in love with him.
or: a fic based off of "litany in which certain things are crossed out" -
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The five times Dan gave Phil acacias, and the one time he didn't have to.
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Colours from an Achromatic's Eyes by impicciche
Fandoms: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
29 May 2017
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Dan is colourblind. He has been his entire life, but that changes when he meets his internet friend for the first time and suddenly he can only see the colour of his eyes.
Recent bookmarks
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in awe of superficial things by Munecabrava
Fandoms: Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022)
29 Nov 2024
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Armand walks in still covered in plaster, still wide eyed and looking shaken. He moves slowly, like he’s the one who should be careful towards the intruder in his house.
“You are still here.”
Daniel hums. “Sure am.”
Series
- Part 1 of Civilian
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Assad hates the feeling of prop fangs in his mouth. Eric helps, until he doesn't.
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"I know what a breakup looks like," Daniel says. "The better question is, why are you coming to me about it? I'm the one who broke up your little sham."
"This is what humans do, don't they?" Armand asks, letting his voice drop. "Crashing on their friends' couches when there's a blip in their romances?"
"Except we're not friends. We're actually very much not friends." Daniel shrugs, as if it's all the same to him. "And I can't imagine the great vampire Armand deigning himself to sleep on my fucked-up sofa. That thing's been here since the nineties."
"Well," Armand only says. "I saw you have a guest bedroom."
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Bookmarked by impicciche
09 Sep 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
[with the cadence of a guy who is waxing poetic about this fic in texts to his best friends] fuck. yes.
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Daniel visits Armand on the Night Island after he’s turned in Dubai.
"What’s next? A yacht? A summer house? An island? You’re ridiculous."
“Do you want them?” Armand asks him seriously. “A yacht, a summer house, an island?”
"What do you mean I—no, I don’t. Jesus, Armand.” Sometimes he thinks he could really do without a boyfriend who wasn’t into grand romantic gestures, especially because Armand has such a propensity for inventing new ways to make Daniel feel like a class traitor. He kisses his sweaty head, places a palm on his chest and taps it with a finger. “I don’t need an island. You’re it, baby.”
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It’s just - anticlimactic. New York Times Bestselling Blue Balls of a conclusion to the Armand of it all. He can picture the pierced graduate students at his indie bookstore readings now; their dubious, unsatisfied frowns of so, what, he just sat there? And you just left?