#And Phil completely shut it down I think

[ccarlislecc]

melodic -> what music do they play when you two get to it? -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, shiu kong, suguru geto, sukuna ryomen, takuma ino, toji fushiguro author's note: screw phenomenally written angst & 5-star relationship headcanons, give me poorly written jjk crack or else I don't want it

“music? you’d like me to play music while we have sex?” choso & his bluntness never ceases to embarrass you.

“well not if you don’t want to, it was just a suggestion. it might make things less awkward for you, you know?”

flash forward to that night, he’s got you sitting on his lap, he leans over to push play on his phone, & you burst out laughing.

“is something wrong? do you not like this song?”

“…cho, it’s shake it off by taylor swift.” he nods, so eager.

“i know, isn’t it such a good song?” & you just can’t say anything, not when he looks so excited, hopeful that you’re pleased with him for his song choice. so you spend the night orgasming to choso’s spotify pump you up playlist.

needless to say, you picked the music from then on.

if music is something you wanted, or that made you more comfortable, of course he’d play it, but nanami isn’t a big music listener. & ultimately, anything that takes away even an ounce of his attention from fucking you senseless isn’t ideal for him.

but if you requested, or he thought to try it, he’d probably find some lofi playlist on youtube, turn it on, & completely forget about it. something relaxing, so that after he’s content with how ruined you are, he can tickle your back & play with your hair until you fall asleep.

but sometimes an ad comes on because no way is nanami paying for youtube premium, even if he is loaded as hell, which frustrates him so thoroughly that he just shuts the laptop altogether & tosses it on the floor.

kiyotaka's so genuinely concerned about it the entire time. he’s done far too much research about this; he looked on multiple different music streaming services for the best playlists to listen to when having sex. after mulling through the hundreds of lists that include songs by megan thee stallion & xxx by kim petras, he finds something he thinks is…suitable. at least, it’s not too on the nose.

but he’s barely gotten your shirt off before a ke$ha song comes on, & kiyotaka turns beet red.

“I-I’m sorry, if you don’t like this song, I can ch-change it,” & he’s so flustered, so embarrassed.

“kiyo, we don’t have to play music, sweetie,” you coo, & he knows you’re teasing him, just a little bit, but he’s so grateful anyway.

“oh, thank god.”

gojo thinks he’s just soooo funny.

he’s three fingers deep, his spit dripping down your chin as he kisses you, humping your leg, when you push back against his shoulder & roll your eyes. “satoru, really? sexyback? justin timberlake?”

his grin is shit-eating. “what, princess? this song doesn’t get you going? your pretty girl’s telling me otherwise with how she’s clenching around my fingers.”

“fuck off.”

“no, no, if this isn’t doin’ for you, I'll change it.” you bite back a moan & smack a pillow across his face when all through the night by boyz ii men turns on.

shiu actually probably has pretty good music taste. he hates the term “indie,” but he’s also not into super mainstream stuff. & sure, maybe he wants to show off his music to you. . .just don’t say that.

he likes things with a heavy bass & not many lyrics, he doesn’t want anything distracting him from how good you feel. he controls the playlist, though, he never lets you pick the music.

“because last time you chose the music, I fucked you to the beat of the tarzan soundtrack by phil collins.” he’s scrolling through apple music, queuing up some of his favorites.

“but—“

“don’t even start with me, doll. I don’t care how much you like those songs, it was fucking gross, listening to a disney movie soundtrack with my dick in you.”

“well, you didn’t have to make it weird, shiu.” you folded your arms, pouting.

“it was weird to begin with!”

“you’re really aging yourself here, sugu,” you tease. you didn’t even recognize half the songs he played with how old they were. because, quote, “music was just better back then.” yeah, back before he was even alive. but try tellin’ that to van halen over here. 

“this is a great song, babe. sorry that you don’t have good taste.”

“coming from the man with the taste of a 50 year old divorced man.” it was cute, how he could have you moaning around his dick & then arguing about music within the same couple of minutes. had he even finished? you couldn’t remember, & you were busy now. 

“hey! divorced dad rock is a great genre of music.”

“not when I'm sucking you off, loser.” 

“well, when I'm giving you head, you can pick the song, how about that? but when you’re sucking my dick, I control the speaker.” at this point, it's simply an immaturity contest.

“no, sugu, I cannot deepthroat your cock to ac/dc ever again. or any song with an electric guitar solo.”

“‘kuna, what the fuck is this?” you mutter, leaning to squint at the screen of your laptop. “sounds of war & explosion, 10 hour asmr version?”

“you asked me to play something, woman, & now you’re complaining?” he drags you by your chin back to his lips.

“i meant something like music. . .but sure, make me seem like the weird one in this situation.” you shrug, & he hates this sarcasm you’re so fond of.

“weird? what is weird about this?” & you almost feel bad because he looks a little upset that you don’t like his creepy asmr.

“i genuinely cannot tell if you’re being serious. I'm not a kink shamer, ‘kuna, but this is fuckin’ weird.”

“shut up, woman, you will cease to care once I put my cock in you.”

you shrug. “fair enough.”

takuma's eating you out from behind, a personal favorite of his, when you’re turning your head at an uncomfortable angle as the first notes of a new song play.

“if you, if you could return. . .”

“t-takuma,” you attempt to speak. “why are playing linger?”

it takes him a moment to come out of it, too entranced by your cunt. “wh-what? I thought you loved this song,” & he looks so sincerely confused why you’d be bothered. frankly, he’d tuned the music out completely. how could he think about anything else but this?

“yeah, when we’re in the car or something, not when you’re eating me out. this song is so sad! it’s a breakup song.” he simply does not get it.

“well, I like it.”

“you’re not even listening to it!”

“are you? fuck, that means I'm doing a bad job then.” soon, you’re tuning out the music too.

toji puts on some shit by chase atlantic because he thinks that's what girls like & promptly forgets it’s even playing. he does not care, just wants to bone, no other thoughts, head empty. a couple minutes in, you turn off his godawful tik tok playlist & he doesn’t even notice. once he’s pulling out & shucking the condom somewhere, he looks blankly around for a second, then back at you.

“hey, did you turn the music off?”

“yeah, toji, nasty dog by sir-mix-a-lot wasn’t exactly getting me off,” you scoff, sneering at the name.

“hey, I got that from you, brat. it’s from that stupid hugh jackman edit you keep watching. . .I'm hotter than him by the way.”

“you’re both old enough to be my dad, but sure, toj’, you’re hotter.” 

I think I'm funny, sorry to everyone else who doesn't have good taste <3 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[natigail]

Phil: We need to give you a slit because we did a charity stream for Palestine and it's time to reap what you sow because you said you'd get a slit after we're all doomed, which you've filmed and now you have to slit it up. Any last words?

Dan: Why the fuck are you putting a hat on?

Phil *now with The End doomed merch cap*: It's my slit hat.

Dan: Okay, what does that-

Phil: I'm like a tattoo artist, I need to have the edgy energy. Wait *fixes hair*. There we go.

Dan: Yeah. Okay.

Phil: Are we ready? Can I get a "slit" in the chat?

Dan *whining*: No, what does that mean?

Phil: Slit, slit, slit!

Dan: Phil, do you know how to use this razor? Let's have a serious conversation here.

Phil: I do.

Dan: You are about to apply that *razor turned on, Phil playing around*. Stop looking at what your hair looks like with the fucking hat! You're about to do something to my face!

Phil: Okay. Which side do you want?

Dan: Phil. Right. Okay, let's talk about that. I feel like I've got an earring this side, so the slit should be there (opposite).

Phil: And where do you want it through?

Dan: I want it there. Do you see this, Phil? Like yours, it's like the arch of the thing.

Phil: Yeah!

Dan: It should be like that. You can't do it too far down, so people can't see the slit.

Phil: It's going to be more to the middle.

Dan: Okay. And Phil? Don't hurt me.

Phil: How could I hurt you?

Dan: Because you're about to apply a fucking shaver to my face!

Phil: And how do I use it? Do I just go *buzzing sound*?

Dan: Okay, you do it once and then you hold it there for a second and then you stop. You don't move. You don't slice.

Phil: No slicing.

Dan: You don't shuffle. Okay?

Phil: Can you look at me a little bit? Like side angle?

Dan: Wait, wait, I'm going to come back.

Phil: Yeah. We're ready? No, face me more.

Dan *flinches*: Don't- Phil!

Phil: You can't flinch!

Dan: Moment.

Phil: Yeah.

Dan: Don't think about the chat.

Phil: I'm not.

Dan: Don't think about what you look like in your hat.

Phil: I'm not.

Dan: I want you to concentrate.

Phil: I'm concentrating.

Dan: Seriously concentrate. Take a moment.

Phil: I am!

Dan: You're not doing a bit, you're doing my face.

Phil: I know I'm doing your face.

Dan: Fuck my life.

Phil: Look at me a tiny bit *gently moves closer, Dan barely holding in a laugh*. Shut up!

Dan: Why does it feel like you've completely changed the orientation of the razor?

Phil: I've done it! I've done it. Wait, wait. Does it? Ohh!

Dan: Ooh?

Phil: It looks good! It looks good, Dan!

Dan: Does it?

Phil: Yeah! It's quite wide. It's quite a wide slit *laughing*.

Dan: It's quite- Phil. Phil Lester just gave me a wide slit.

Phil: It's more pronounced than mine.

Dan: Oh my-please stop saying I have a pronounced slit. Fuck.

Phil: It looks good though.

Dan: Does it?

Phil: Yeah, you look like you've got an edge to you.

Dan: And now I look like I have an edge and I didn't before?

Phil: Yeah.

Dan: Okay.

Phil: That's great. What do we think in the chat? Matching slits.

Dan: Fuck my ass, what do I look like? I cannot see on this camera.

*proceeds to check up close in camera and it sure it a wide slit*

[fanfic-corner]

Spideypool Fic Recs

I've recently been reading a lot of Wade/Peter fics, so I thought I'd share some of my favourites with you! Please remember to check the tags before reading <3

Lobster Biscuit by Scarlet_Ribbons (2.6k)

Peter goes on a terrible, terrible date, cashes in a favor on behalf of Spider-Man, and begs Deadpool to crash it.

Deadpool delivers.

Not One Hundred Percent by HashtagLEH  (7.3k)

After being drugged at a party, Peter is lucid enough to figure out that he needs help. But who does he even know (and trust) enough that he can just pop up on their doorstep at two in the morning?

Meanwhile, Wade would just really like to know who this random college kid is that showed up at his door.

let me explain by jilliancares (8.5k)

Wade scoffs, shaking his head and elbowing Peter in the side. “Sure,” he says, sarcastic. “That’s why your spidey-sense doesn’t see me.”

Peter’s on the verge of laughing, wanting to join Wade in his amusement, but he freezes. His entire body goes still. He finds himself staring at a roof three buildings over, not even looking at anything. Two blocks away, a car alarm finally shuts off.

“I never told you that,” Peter says, the realization startling him.

Or: Peter's starting to realize just how much Wade knows about him.

Bear the Pain (as the Gods Intended) by mustehelmi (9.8k)

Five times Wade is injured and one time Peter is the injured one.

Gravitation by WillowSong (9.9k)

In a universe where Spiderman never exists, young Peter Parker makes an unlikely friend in Deadpool.

A Friendly Neighbourhood Kidnapping by Willow Writes (12k)

Peter is more than a little mad when Wade ghosts him for years, and then when he finally shows his face in New York again, it’s to kidnap Peter Parker. So he decides to have some fun with the situation and see how long it takes for Wade to recognise him.

Wade thinks he has an easy hit ahead of him and is planning on getting back in touch with his favourite Web–Slinger once the job is done. But Peter Parker seems harder to take down than his buyer let on.

what light through yonder window by hellornothing (14k)

The figure moves quickly, but Peter’s faster. He’s still adjusting to the sudden brightness, so dark red is really the only thing he takes from this initial encounter, but it’s enough.

‘Deadpool?’

aka the one where they get together via late night window visits

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) by Spongeekat (28k)

"Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.” Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?

Oh.

“Oh.” Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds. "

Or Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.

Finite State by Scarlet_Ribbons (34k)

When he's blackmailed by, of all people, a weird work acquaintance who needs Spider-Man gone for obviously illegal purposes, Peter is forced to hang up the suit- at least temporarily -until he can resolve the situation. Unfortunately, things start to get sticky when Deadpool, who Spider-Man's been on-again off-again with (okay, yeah, lowkey messing around with), crashes into Peter's life and demands the photographer help him figure out what's got his favorite webhead so spooked.

Peter's life is really weird.

I Think I Missed a Step ('Cause I'm Fallin' For You) by mokuyoubi (42k)

There’s a weird familiarity about the kid's tone and posture, and it’s true that Wade is pretty far from home today but he’s also certain he’d remember that baby-face if he’d seen it before. On the other hand, he has spent the better part of the past few years feeling like he’s missed a step, so this conversation isn’t exactly anything new.[[A hot guy is willingly talking to us. Go with it.]][Don’t make an ass of yourself.]“Shaddup,” Wade grumbles, though Yellow has a point...

OR Peter thinks Wade knows his secret identity, and Wade is really confused by the hot coed who keeps popping up and hanging out with him.

Damage by dontcareajot (42k)

Peter Parker finds himself in a sticky situation and who should show up to rescue him but the infamous Deadpool? Now Peter feels indebted to the mercenary... And maybe weirdly charmed by him.

My Boyfriend's a Murder Bot by Fredegund (55k)

Wade Winston Wilson is ugly. His skin's inside out. It ripples and moves every second of every day, at constant war with the cancer. Vanessa put on a brave face for him when she first saw the changes, but it turns out even she can't stomach the sight for long. He's ugly and alone and nothing will ever be good in life again -

If only that were his only problem.

But Weapon X is at it again, under crisp new management, turning orphans into super slaves and bringing out the big guns to make sure nobody interferes this go around (namely one Pool comma Dead). So now, not only is Wade alone and ugly forever, but he's got a bit of a pest problem in the form of a black-clad murder-happy man spider with a collar around his neck and an unhealthy obsession with tying Deadpool up.

So maybe it's not all bad...

Paradise (spread out with a butter knife) by Sarah_Sandwich (72k)

He sighs from where he’s prone, arms akimbo, and roof gravel digging into his spine. “I lost my job. My… other job. The one that actually pays the bills.”

He doesn’t want to dwell on why he’s telling Deadpool of all people. Surely it has nothing to do with his desperate lack of friends. MJ is in California chasing her dreams, Harry’s undergoing treatment for his mental health and isn’t allowed visitors (not that it matters since they blacklisted Peter after last time), and Gwen… Well.

And it’s not like he can talk to Aunt May without her worrying about him starving to death under a bridge or something so… Deadpool it is. Man, when did his life get this pathetic?

OR: The one where Peter and Wade are literal soulmates but don't realize it for literal years because they're literal idiots.

Dissonance by stuckybarnes (121k)

Wherein Deadpool is reluctantly hired to protect Peter Parker from an organization out to hunt him, with varying success on both ends and quite a lot of feelings, revelations, and identity crises.

I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I did, and please let me know if you have any more Spideypool recs! And, as always, thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing these incredible fics with us <33

[oncasette]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂 + 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗗 single dad phil wenneck & nanny reader

summer shifts

summary: 0.6k

“god, baby, do you… not know how hot you are?” he asks, leaving the word baby to rumble around at the back of your skull as he continues. “you make me feel fucking crazy. every day.”

or the one where phil gives into his needs. specifically the ones that involve his kids' nanny.

warnings: suggestive content (no real smut), implied age gap, power dynamic

masterlist | taglist

“thanks again, you’re a lifesaver.” 

he says it as he shuts his daughter’s door. it’d been a fight to put her down, for the both of you, leaving a thin sheen of sweat coating your upper lip and a tiny, foot-shaped bruise in your hip. 

“it’s my job,” you say, brushing him off and wiping a hand across your face to get rid of at least a little bit of the sweat. you still smell like the chlorine of the rec pool you’d taken ella and her older brother to earlier that day. 

“no, it’s more than that,” he says. “honest. You help out so much, i don’t think i’d be able to handle them at all by myself. especially ells.”

“she’s a special one,” you hum and the bruise burns a bit hotter as you begin your descent down the stairs. phil follows behind you, hand lingering centimeters behind yours on the wooden railing. 

You stumble when you reach the bottom stair, breath caught in the back of your throat as phil’s hands find your waist to prevent him from toppling you over further. You’d think after all the years you’d worked for him, after all the time you’d spent in his house, that you’d get used to him. To the way his voice sounded, the way his hands felt as they innocently brushed past your hands. Or, accidentally, your hips. 

“careful,” he says, though you could swear he nearly purrs it. his voice had dropped from the soft tone he’d held outside his daughter’s room. it was fuller now, raspier. and somehow, without you noticing it, he’d stepped down that final step and had pressed the weight of himself into your back. 

“sorry,” you squeak out. 

“no need to be sorry, sweetheart,” he says. he’s so warm you can feel heat emanating off of him in waves. 

“sorry, i-”

“hey, what’d i say about the sorry thing, huh,” he says and he presses himself so far into you you have to take a shuffle step forward to keep yourself from completely faceplanting. 

“mr. wenneck-” 

he cuts you off with a soft shhh, “call me phil, yeah? you’ve known me long enough.”

“phil,” you say. he hums in approval, nodding against the side of your head as his forehead lands against your shoulder. you’re nearly shivering in his hold, the outline of his half-hard cock poking into the small of your back. 

“god, you drive me up the fucking wall.” he balls up the fabric of your sundress in one his hands. “always in these little dresses or…” 

he shudders as he presses further into you. a chill runs up your spine as his chest rumbles with a groan. 

“i’m just the nanny,” you nearly whimper as his hold on you tightens.

“god, baby, do you… not know how hot you are?” he asks, leaving the word baby to rumble around at the back of your skull as he continues. “you make me feel fucking crazy. every day.”

You feel his knees knocking into the backs of your legs, surging you forward the couple feet it takes to reach his bedroom–the one room in the house you hadn’t yet been afforded the luxury of being in. your brain is beyond fuzzy, within the span of a couple minutes you’d gone from getting ready to gather the rest of your belongings to leave for the day to panting in the door frame of your boss’ bedroom, with his king sized bed and his unmade sheets and his lips moving dangerously close to the shell of your ear. 

“phil.” “let me show you what you do to me, hm?” 

[manchestereyes]

I had kinda dipped out of the phandom during the was era (sorry) so I would to hear how that era led to them being so connected in this one

oh that is so valid, friend! 🧡 i kinda did too since it was announced right when i got my first full time job and suddenly i didn't have time to engage with phandom stuff anymore 😭 but things are a lot chiller now, so let's dive in! (under the cut because this is gonna be loooong--dnp please do not read if you happen to stumble across this!)

i think to get a full perspective on this journey, we really need to look at the full history of dan and phil. how they forged such a deep connection in 2009 and did whatever they could to be together. how they were blowing up more and more in the early 2010s and seeing more opportunities come from this youtube business. and how one youtube glitch could've ruined those opportunities forever.

i'm sure we all know by now how big of a deal the vday video was but if you don't... it was a huge deal. suddenly this very private piece of their lives was out in the open, long before either of them were ready to publicly address it. and it changed everything. yes, their love story was basically documented already, but they never expected those posts would be seen by millions of people one day, potentially even by people who could give them jobs. so they shut down. they insisted they were separate people and made completely different videos while also showing us the family sized box of shreddies they'd bought for the two of them.

and this is where wad comes in. yes i know i'm jumping really far into the future here, but hear me out--in a way, i believe wad is directly connected to everything that went down in 2012. see, phil's told us that he's always been happy doing amazingphil and dan and phil things. but dan's different.

SPECULATION TIME -- IF YOU ARE DAN AND PHIL, PLEASE CLICK AWAY NOW. THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING.

dan grew up desperate for validation from parents who never had time for him and from peers who constantly bullied him. he's always had a voice in the back of his head telling him he's not good enough, and even when phil tells him his videos are great, he still wants them to appeal to all the people who dismissed him growing up. he wants to be his full self, yet he's also terrified of acknowledging that he could be the very thing he was tormented for. meanwhile, phil (as far as i can tell) had that validation growing up. his parents were older and had more money and therefore, more energy to devote to phil and martyn. phil's always been super close with his whole family, whereas dan (from what we know) has only ever been close with his nana and popsie, and now with his mum too. phil had a whole group of friends growing up, whereas dan flitted from group to group, never quite fitting in, and even had no friends for a while. this is why he developed the cynical, sarcastic persona he's worn for so long. it was his battle armor. every time he'd shown his real self growing up, he'd been rejected. but once he saw how lovely we all are, that battle armor was quickly becoming restricting. but he'd spent so long wearing it that now dan didn't know who he was now.

so we got the hiatus, while dan worked out who he was and how he wanted to present himself and threw himself into different projects that did and didn't see the light (rip dinok our strongest soldier 💔)--one of those projects being wad. suddenly dan, theatre kid extraordinaire, who'd spent two tours working with his favorite person onstage, was now facing the prospect of carrying an entire stage show on his own. on one hand, that was terrifying as fuck, but on the other, it was a culmination of all the work dan had done on himself. and he did it. he spent months physically apart from phil only to find that we loved him for who he is. and that was deeply healing for him.

however, being apart for several months was SO hard on him and phil. phil said he was having a lot of trouble with his migraines around that time and i have to wonder if that could have partly been from the stress of not having dan around for long periods of time. and we know dan had plenty of crises on the road that he frantically texted phil about--enough to have him credited as "remote crisis manager" in the wad recording. and that's the thing, isn't it? i think dan especially needed that time apart to realize that he and phil are truly magical together. and with all the pressure he puts on himself for solo content, he knew it would take a herculean effort to put anything out on his main channel. but phil's been working with a really cool editor for his main channel. and the gaming channel has never had that content threshold.

so they finally both dropped the masks (for the most part) and dove into this new version of dan and phil that emphasizes their connection. because it's okay for them to be this close now. they've already worked with some hugely powerful people (and been accepted by their families) and now all they need is us. and we've not only accepted them for it, we've celebrated it--all the way to the finals of the rpf tourney. and i think that acceptance means more to dnp than we will ever know.

tl;dr: dan and phil had to be apart for a while to see just how much they needed each other. and now that they've experienced that, they know they can never let each other go--and that their connection is just as special to us as it is to them, so there's no harm in showing it off every chance they get.

[manchesterau]

For the phanfic prompts, could you do something with them just waking up and being all lovey dovey while sleepy? Just sweet morning kisses and cuddles and softness all around please? Thank you 🙏

thank you for the lovely prompt!

send fic prompts to keep phan high on the fandometrics pls

i hope you enjoy ❄️🌨️

When they went to bed last night the world was slowly being blanketed by a flurry of snow. The enthusiastic weatherman told everyone watching to hunker down, the snowstorm was only going to get worse over night and by tomorrow their little corner of the world will be at a standstill.

Dan wakes up in a tangled mess of a thick duvet and his husband snoring lightly on his chest.

It’s times like these he wishes they had opted out of floor to ceiling windows, they have black out curtains but they forgot to pull them down last night after stumbling into bed together.

He feels Phil stirring, his phone tells him it’s only half past ten in the morning. It’s Saturday and they have all the time in the world together, and Dan thinks he’d like to spend it in bed.

He cards a hand through Phil’s hair, it’s freshly dyed black and sticking up in several different places. The arm Phil has thrown around his waist tightens and he can feel him humming as Dan starts to message that one spot in his neck that’s become sore lately.

“Feels nice,” Phil murmurs. He rubs his cheek back and forth against Dan’s chest, burrowing deeper into him.

Dan huffs out a laugh, digging his fingers in deeper before moving his hands up and around till he’s messaging Phil’s temple. He went to bed last with a slight migraine and they feel asleep in complete darkness as to not make it worse.

“Can you deliveroo breakfast?” Phil says around a yawn.

“Phil, love, there’s been a freaky snowstorm all of London is shut down.” Dan says. He watches as Phil scrunches up his nose and slowly blinks his eyes open, looking over to their window before smiling up at Dan.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

They both giggle, Phil untangles himself from Dan’s arms and flops down beside him. He doesn’t reach for his glasses like he usually does, and he doesn’t stand to go use the bathroom. They both lie here, in the in between spaces of time where nothing matters and they get to just be.

Dan closes his eyes, the feeling of sleep starts to pull at him again but just before he lets it envelop him he feels Phil sit up.

“Dan,” he whispers, placing a kiss on his temple. He softly glides his lips down pass Dan’s nose, sliding slowly until he reaches his lips.

Dan opens his eyes and finds Phil hovering over him. He can hear the heating kick on, a low hum that pushes him further into sleep but he doesn’t close his eyes.

“Phil,” He whispers back. Their lips connect just as Phil’s name leaves his lips. They kiss softly despite the morning breath, and after all these years Dan is more than use to it.

They kiss lazily and without any real heat behind it because they can. Dan slings his arm around Phil’s waist, pulling him as close as he can. They hold onto each other, mouthing wherever they can reach.

If this were a different morning they would spend this time in bed unraveling each other with more than just their mouths. Dan would take Phil apart with his tongue and put him back together with his fingers. Not now though, right now Dan wants to cuddle and trade soft kisses before falling asleep again.

This morning is for stillness, for quick hour naps and soft conversations about nothing. They have all the time in the world.

[adidastain]

down the hatch

90s matt stone x fem reader

warnings: oral sex (M receiving), alcohol use, nausea

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 3564

—

“Matt.” 

My voice carried softly as I approached my roommate in our dimly lit kitchen. The hour was late and what a night it was for him. 

“I know you’re upset. C’mon,” I continued, opening my arms. I was in my pajamas, having stayed up late to watch the Oscars ceremony and see my best friend’s best friend lose the award to Phil Collins for Tarzan. Matt had gone to a party afterward to come down from the acid he’d been on all night and was still in his wine-red dress shirt, the buttons halfway undone. 

“I’m not upset,” he said calmly. His gaze remained fixed on the shot of tequila he was pouring for himself. The lack of eye contact was a dead giveaway. 

“You are,” I insisted. I didn’t like seeing him upset. In a way, I was afraid of it; sure he always had an attitude, but when Matt was really upset about something, he’d rain ash and sulfur on whoever or whatever it was that upset him. “C’mere.” 

I tugged on the sleeve of his silky-soft shirt, pulling him towards me. Matt exhaled heavily, setting the bottle down and turning his broad body to face me, and he let me wrap my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his neck, his skin soft and warm. His curly hair tickled my nose as I moved. 

Matt was always kind of weird about hugs. It took him a few seconds before he actually hugged me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and holding me close. There was no doubt that he was exhausted. 

“I know you both worked really hard,” I whispered. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say; I always sucked when it came to words. 

“Mm,” Matt hummed unresponsively. 

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes. 

“You may not have won the Oscar, but you did win my heart,” I said dramatically. I batted my eyelashes at him, watching as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said, letting go of me. He was grinning, shaking his head as he turned away to pour his tequila down the hatch. 

As he swallowed, I carefully removed the small glass from his grasp, setting it down on the counter behind me. Matt cringed at the taste of the tequila, shaking his head. 

I had to admit, he looked absolutely divine. His shirt was a gorgeous, deep red color that fit him absolutely perfectly. His broad chest and biceps practically bulged out of the silky fabric. The blazer he’d been wearing earlier in the night had been since discarded on the counter, alongside a small duffel bag containing the infamous pink dress he’d sported in the afternoon. Which, I have to say, looked just as amazing on him. 

My hands snaked around his waist, hugging him again. 

“Seriously, though. You know you can tell me anything,” I said, looking up at him. He didn’t hug me back, simply continuing to put the bottle of tequila back in the refrigerator next to us. 

“I know. And I told you,” he sighed, looking down at me with tired, half-lidded eyes. “I’m not upset.” 

“Anything you need, Matt,” I ignored him. “I’m always here for you.” 

He chuckled slightly, taking a step back as he slid out of my arms. I looked at him with puppy eyes, carefully watching his body and muscles shift and flex each time he moved. 

“Anything, huh?” he repeated, crossing his arms. This only made his chest and biceps look bigger and more muscular.

I nodded. “Anything,” I confirmed. 

Matt raised his eyebrows and smirked, looking all around the room except at me. “Even…” he said, trailing off to let my mind fill in the blanks. He nodded downward to gesture to his crotch. 

“You’re disgusting,” I rolled my eyes. Though, to be completely honest, I didn’t think it was the worst idea he could have had… 

Once, many, many moons ago, after several rounds of drinks, I remember getting fingered by Matt in the back of a limo. I don’t remember where we were or why we were in a limo exactly, but we were definitely both completely drunk and undoubtedly sexually frustrated. We never brought it up to each other though. I just assumed it was a dream for a little while, until we received a letter from the limousine service stating that we wouldn’t be allowed to book from them again. 

“But sure. Only for you,” I continued. 

Matt’s head practically snapped up to attention, looking at me with shock as the color drained from his face. “What?” 

“I’ll give you head. If that’s what you want,” I said, shrugging. I turned around so that my ass was facing him and he couldn’t see how flushed my cheeks were becoming. 

“I was just joking,” he laughed, swallowing harshly. 

“No you weren’t,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I poured myself a glass of water, turning back around to face him again. His jaw was tense, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while the other sat at his side. “You? Joking about getting head? Not a chance.” 

I took a sip of water, not-so-accidentally letting it spill onto my chin and neck. Matt’s eyes were fixed on my now soaking wet collarbone. I watched his throat shift beneath his skin as he swallowed harshly. 

“You really… You’d do it?” he asked. 

“Do what?” I responded. Play dumb. 

“Suck me off?” 

“Oh. Mhm,” I smiled. “If it’ll make you feel better.” 

Matt chuckled, looking down at his hands. I took another sip of water, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist. 

“Go sit down,” I told him, topping off the glass with more water. Matt did as I said, hesitant at first. However, it didn’t take long for him to somewhat frantically scramble to get his ass onto the sofa before I could follow him. 

I thought about getting to put his hot, throbbing, aching length into my mouth and taking it down my throat. Using my tongue to pay extra attention to little spots along his shaft in order to earn soft sounds of pleasure from deep inside him. My hands roaming every inch of his body, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel like no one else has ever made him feel. 

My eyes rolled back in my head slightly as I pictured his hand tangled in my hair, pushing my head down further along his length while his tip bruised the back of my throat. 

“Are you coming?” he said. I think he was trying to sound irritated, but was too nervous to pull it off. 

With that, I joined him in the living room, anxious to see him sprawled out and ready on our sofa. And he was; he had his arms resting up on the back of the couch, all cocky, with his legs spread and his body slouching. Dickhead.

He was, without a doubt, pitching a sizable tent beneath those snug black pants of his. The reality of what I was about to do to my best friend hit me like a train. Sure, we’d messed around before, like I said. But this was different. We were sober. I was sober, at least. 

The entire house was silent, so much so that my ears were practically ringing. It was dark except for the light in the kitchen, which shone from behind, giving his crown of curls a glowing halo. He looked up at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I positioned myself to lean over him. 

A breathy, soft groan left his lips as I carefully placed my knee on his crotch, applying the smallest amount of pressure so as to not hurt him. Not long after, I kissed him, one of my hands digging into the couch cushions behind him to prop myself up. I kept my kiss gentle, almost ghostlike, barely touching his lips at all. 

Matt looked to be in shambles as I backed away from him again, sinking down onto my knees in front of the sofa. He stared at me, looking both tense and nervous, while also completely dumbfounded and almost awestruck. 

“Hurry up and take your belt off, douchey. I’m tired,” I teased him, running my hands over his clothed thighs. 

Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes, raising his hips so he could start undoing his belt, freeing his hips from the snug confines of the leather strap. He set it off to the side and shimmied out of his dress pants, which pooled down to his ankles, rendering him bare-legged in a skimpy pair of boxers. 

I didn’t waste much more time before trailing wet kisses up the inside of his thigh, massaging the other with my hand. I pulled his boxers down, slowly, running my fingers along the waistband until they sat at his ankles atop his discarded dress pants. There, standing tall and dripping with impatience, was the real star of the show. 

I swallowed. It wasn’t so much the length I was concerned about as far as size went, but the sheer girth and thickness of his cock. My hand wrapped around the base of it and my fingertips were nowhere near touching my thumb. 

“You okay?” Matt asked me, his tone low and cold. I could see concern in his face, however. 

I nodded, adjusting my position and pulling all of my hair to rest on one shoulder. Matt reached down to tuck one stray strand behind my ear, gently running his thumb along my cheek in the process. 

My eyes veered away from his, shame bubbling up inside me. Maybe not shame so much as humiliation. I took a moment to build up the spit in my mouth, feeling shy under his gaze. 

“Don’t look at me,” I mumbled with a mouthful of spit. Matt chuckled softly, letting his head rest on the back of the couch. I stared at his neck and throat as he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. 

I leaned over his cock and let a dribble of spit fall from my lips, before subsequently beginning to place soft kisses all over his tip, the skin smooth and warm. I held the base of his length with one hand, using the other to massage his thigh. Matt’s body shivered slightly as I trailed kisses up and down his shaft. 

I looked up at him one last time. His bottom lip was trapped under his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, hands gripping the back of the sofa. I’d barely even started and he was already struggling. Must’ve been a while for him. 

From then on, my kisses were wet, sloppy and open-mouthed. Up until I flattened my tongue and the tip of his cock slid into my mouth. 

Matt sharply gasped through his nose, his body shuddering from the shock. He moaned softly with his mouth closed and I felt his hand caress the back of my head, fingers running through my hair as he grabbed a fistful of it. 

“Mmn… Good,” he exhaled. I opened my eyes to look up at him, seeing his face and body scrunched up and tense. Matt adjusted his position, and now the top of my head was grazing his stomach as I moved up and down. 

The sounds he made, combined with the feeling of his warm flesh moving in and out of my sore mouth had me subconsciously squeezing my thighs together. I slipped my free hand underneath my shorts in order to start rubbing slow circles into my clit, before taking a deep breath and lowering my head, letting his cock slide into my throat. 

“Oh fuck,” he whined, pushing my head down further. His body crashed into the back of the couch, his back arching and thighs beginning to squeeze my head. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad…” 

I let out an exaggerated moan for the sake of giving him a little bit of vibrational stimulation. It wasn’t entirely fake though.

“Yeah?” he panted. Matt chucked slightly. “I bet you like that… good girl…” 

I rolled my eyes and pulled off of him, removing my hand from inside my pants. “I’m never letting you live that down,” I said. 

“Shut up,” he said lightheartedly. Matt gripped my hair more harshly, almost forcing his cock back into my mouth without warning.

My gag reflex immediately pushed back and my eyes started watering. I winced slightly, pinching the skin of his thigh hard. 

“Ow!” he hissed. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, wiping the tears away from my eyes. “Sorry,” he said softly. 

“So mean,” I mumbled with his cock in my mouth. Matt scratched my scalp a little, making a small effort to soothe my discomfort. 

“I was close,” he told me, before I started moving again. He took a moment to gently brush all of my hair out of my face and wipe the tears from my eyes. I loved when he’d let his soft side out. That’s how I knew he wasn’t really upset anymore. 

A few minutes went by, most of which I spent teasing him. Swirling my tongue around his tip over and over, hesitant to take him down my throat again out of anxiety. I’d had many catastrophic experiences giving head before. Now that I’d gagged already, I really wasn’t trying to let that happen again. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked me amidst rapid, heaving breaths. 

I nodded, humming into his cock. Matt stroked the back of my scalp and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing harshly. 

I shook my head, looking up at him. He was looking down at me, with a loving, yet lust-filled gaze. 

Seeing his face flushed a scarlet pink color, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and feeling his hand tangled in my hair gave me a little more confidence. I took a deep breath, exhaling as I let his cock slide into my throat once again. 

A deep, guttural moan left his body as his tip pressed against the back of my throat. His back arched and he hissed as I began sucking slightly with each movement. I let one of my hands travel up underneath his shirt so I could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten every other second. His fingers dug deeper into the back of my head, pushing me further and further down. 

“Y/N…” he moaned quietly. My stomach flipped and my immediate response was to laugh. Matt laughed slightly as well, until it quickly faded and he was back to grunting and whimpering. 

“Mmn… perfect,” he hummed, almost as if he were growling, his voice so deep. “I’m so close…” 

I let out a small, slightly higher-pitched moan as I adjusted my neck to take him deeper down my throat. It didn’t take long for him to start squeezing my head between his thighs while his hips bucked upward into my face, fucking my mouth. Part of me really wished he was fucking me for real. 

Suddenly, I gagged again, but didn’t let go. He was close and I, very selfishly, was dying to feel his hot cum shoot down my throat. 

“Keep going,” he whimpered, relaxing the grip he held on my head. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I opened them to look up at him. He was looking down at me, face flushed, temples glistening with sweat, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in desperation. He looked absolutely pitiful. 

I paused for a moment to force the tears out from between my eyelids, trying my hardest to avoid triggering the reflex again. I must’ve been subconsciously holding my breath for a minute or two, because I was practically gasping for air through my nostrils. 

That was my least favorite part about giving head. But in the end, it was all worth it. 

I kept bobbing my head, moaning slightly each time I felt his tip press into the back of my throat. I was getting pretty sore at this point, but he was right; he was definitely close to the edge. Only a few more seconds and he’d be done for. 

I shifted slightly in order to caress his balls, but before I could even take them in my hand, Matt’s entire body tensed up. His soft, strangled moans echoed through the entire house as his hips shuddered and trembled, until I felt the hot sensation of his cum hitting the back of my throat and dripping downward. After a second or two, Matt’s hand slid off my head to rest at his side. 

“Fuck,” he exhaled, panting. He let out another whine or two as I carefully pulled away from him, swallowing what was in my throat. My tongue ran over his tip as his cock slid out of my mouth, coating the muscle in the last few strings of his cum. It was warm and my eyes practically rolled back in my head as I tasted it. Once I was off of him, I sort of collapsed, letting my head fall and crash into his knee, and I started to cry. 

I swallowed again, and I became aware of a dry, aching feeling in my throat. My neck was stiff and my head started pounding. I pressed my face against his leg, trying to suppress the discomfort and nausea. 

Matt took a few seconds to catch his breath and give me small praises like, “That was incredible,” and “I really needed that.” I responded with nothing but a small laugh. Then he pulled his boxers back up, and noticed me crying. 

“Y/N,” he squeaked, his own voice slightly dry and raspy. I looked up at him, still drawing deep breaths in and out through my nose. He pulled his boxers on and grabbed my hands to help me up onto the couch. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, giggling softly. I nodded, no words coming to mind. 

Matt swallowed and wiped a tear away from my cheek. “You look really pale,” he whispered, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Again, I nodded, closing my eyes and letting my forehead rest against his. “Just need a minute,” I said, barely whispering. 

He tucked my hair behind my ear and pushed it behind my shoulders, running his fingers through all the knots he might have made from balling his fist into it several times. It felt nice. 

His lips softly grazed against mine, creating a small clicking sound when he pulled away. I let out a heavy exhale and looked at him, exhaustion ever present in both my body and my mind. Matt pulled me closer, whispering in my ear. 

“I’m not upset anymore,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, burying my face into his neck. “I’m okay.”

“Do you want some water?” he asked me, taking my hand in his. 

“I’ll get it in a sec,” I sighed, swallowing. “I still feel nauseous.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“Say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time,” I laughed dryly. Matt chuckled, kissing my neck while carefully intertwining his soft fingers with mine. 

We sat for another minute or two and I was eventually able to get up and get some water. The lateness of the hour hit me hard once I came back from my fatigued, post-head state. Matt was practically merciless when it came to the aftercare, asking to do all these things like massage my neck and play with my hair. It was endearing, but I couldn’t tell if he was doing it to make me feel better or to keep his mind off of the stupid Oscars. Both were very likely. 

Matt didn’t bother to shower or anything, quickly changing into a large tee and a clean pair of boxers for bed. He lingered in the bathroom doorway, watching me move like a sloth as I brushed my teeth and washed my face. 

“Can I help you?” I asked with a mouthful of toothpaste. My eyes made contact with the reflection of his through the mirror and he smiled at my teasing. 

He took a few steps closer to me as I spat out the toothpaste, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist. Before I could even turn to face him, he placed his warm hands on either side of my waist and kissed me deeply. 

My first response was to push back slightly, but the kiss was so warm that I couldn’t even protest and immediately melted into him, my hands pressed against his torso. I got the most intense chills; my heart was beating so fast that I was worried I’d faint right there in his arms. 

“Mm. Minty,” he hummed with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. I rolled my eyes and pushed his body away from me. 

“Give a man head one time, and suddenly he wants to be your boyfriend,” I sighed.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to be your boyfriend,” he grinned, making himself comfortable with his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, beginning to place soft kisses along my neck. “The head was just a bonus.” 

I rolled my eyes again, unable to smother the grin that was overtaking my face. “Typical.”

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Written As Gifts To Authors (2) Masterlist

part two

and true, the vision's hazy (ao3) - sensorydephrivation (memoryofamurder)

Summary: Ever since he was a small child, Phil had strange dreams. They seem to foretell terrible things, and a certain curly-haired man keeps showing up in them...

another day of sun (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: breakfast together, 12 years apart.

Baby it’s cold outside (ao3) - Allthephils

Summary: Dan’s car is stuck in the snow and Phil just happens by

Broken Like You (ao3) - TearDrop1234

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a theater in a nowhere town. Their friendship is instant, but the rest not so much.

Chips (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Dan struggling with the concept that all healthy couples should fight.

colder on the inside (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A strong wind alone shouldn't suggest that something isn't quite right. That is the beginning, but a perfect idyllic night for Dan and Phil somehow devolves into a nightmare where nothing is as it should be, a night where the impossible happens.

Come Clean (ao3) - castrotophic

Summary: Dan thinks Phil might be in love with him, but he's not quite sure how to figure it out.

close up magic (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Phil is a witch. Dan finds out.

dan and philly's wet moments (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: Phil loathes hiring people to come and fix stuff around the house - he never imagined that watching someone power washing a patio could be so much fun though.

DreamCasts Presents (ao3) - SummerFlingsAndThings (QueenJunoTheGreat)

Summary: Phil's son is obsessed with the faceless man who narrates audiobooks.

Dan's daughter is obsessed with the brightly dressed librarian in charge of the children's department.

And Dan and Phil? Well, they're a little obsessed with one another.

Dress (ao3) - ForeverJustAnEmoKidAtHeart

Summary: After the Halloween Baking video, Sister Daniel has some fun with Phil and Phil… Well, Phil should just be glad he made it through the end of the filming.

eloquent graffiti (ao3) - danhedonia (deathpeach)

Summary: Phil didn’t know it at the time, but that was the first painting of his that Dan inspired. Dan was his spaceman, his beautiful work of art that Phil wanted to spend the rest of his life recreating in every possible way.

Forever & Always (ao3) - ForeverJustAnEmoKidAtHeart

Summary: This was written for possumdnp who wanted a fluffy tour fic. I hope you like it.

(from the wings) i'll be watching (ao3) - moonanonymous

Summary: Phil is the assistant lighting director. Dan is the nutcracker prince. It's going to be a long day.

Imagine It (ao3) - Tesseractingrey

Summary: Dan realizes, after 15 years of being with Phil, he may not have commitment issues anymore. This leads to Dan and Phil taking a step that would have been unthinkable, even a year ago, let alone ten years ago.

ink and alice (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan joins a band instead of going to university, and then he meets Phil.

it is you (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: @danisnotonfire: I wonder how biology can explain the physical pain you feel in your chest when all you want to do is be with someone D:

When Dan gets permission to spend a week with Phil in December, he has a stunning realisation.

June Bug (ao3) - ZackStriker (PyroStormIsBae)

Summary: When the kiss ended, Dan ignored all the applause and pressed their foreheads together, took a breath just to feel the hot spring air swell deep in his lungs, tricked himself into thinking he could inhale Phil if he tried hard enough. When they were this close, so close that Dan could count the frail eyelashes that stuck out from Phil’s translucent eyelids, he forgot himself. Dan Howell became a heart without a body.

or: Dan and Phil have a June wedding.

Just Let Me Adore You (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Dan didn't know what to expect when he agreed to go to Switzerland with his brother to 'find themselves' again. But he certainly wasn't expecting a massive snow storm to pass by and completely shut down any roads, train stations, and airports. However, when the snow gets worse, a mysterious man stumbles into the hostel he's staying at, and Dan figures out pretty quickly that he and the man are going to have to get to know each other fast.

Keep My Hand In Yours (ao3) - totalincandescense

Summary: It was kind of just an unspoken rule of their relationship. At least one part of Phil’s body had to be touching Dan at all times or it would throw the balance of the universe.

Love Comes Without a Warning (ao3) - beaniebopbaby

Summary: Phil Lester wanted nothing more than to find his soulmate, his other half.

Dan Howell could not care less about finding his.

Love From The Other Side (ao3) - sapphic_sunflower_kid

Summary: It’s 2011 and Dan is struggling through university. This is, in short, three of the times Dan’s university life felt like it was spiraling and the three times Phil was sending love from the other side to help him cope with it.

AKA. The power of love and friendship drives Dan Howell to drop out of university.

Love you through it all (ao3) - Lesbianphan

Summary: A glimpse into Dan and Phil’s journey over the years, through dates/holidays and all the adventures they’ve embarked on together. Just some introspective fluff, featuring the many different stages of their relationship we’ve witnessed over the years

Neighbourly Nook (ao3) - wednesday_ukiru

Summary: The stranger had a dimple on his cheek that appeared when he laughed.

“I’m Dan,” he said, extending his hand. Phil reached for it with extreme eagerness, their knuckles knocking together in a particularly painful way, and they both winced, but Dan immediately broke into a smile. “I don’t know why I offered you a handshake, I never know how to do them.”

never quite as it seems (ao3) - Ablissa

Summary: Phil has a unique gift that allows him to see something he never expected to see - his best friend Dan, meeting the person that would most likely become the love of his life.

It hasn't happened yet, and right now, Dan has no idea what lies ahead.

When old feelings resurface and every choice may have a big impact on the upcoming events, will Phil be able to make the right decision?

Not Since I Posted The Cat Photo (ao3) - Absolutefilthimsosorry

Summary: Dan hasn’t been a ‘top bunk kinda guy’ since he posted the catboy photos.

Set after the catboy photoshoot

put a ring on it (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “Maybe the reasons we dismissed it before don’t really apply anymore.”

still so lucky (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan and Phil take a little trip, but Phil gets a migraine.

storm sirens (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil are headed to another in the endless string of American tour dates for Interactive Introverts when a storm shakes them up a bit.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Phil (ao3) - castrotophic

Summary: Phil buys a motorcycle. Dan can't decide whether he's horny or upset. Kissing ensues.

The Great Golden Pig Debate (ao3) - husbants

Summary: Phil wants to bring the pig to the new house. Dan does not.

The Knight of Wands (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Phil had always had dreams that he couldn't quite comprehend and a certain intuition about what was truly important for his future.

The Perfect Gift (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Phil Lester didn't particularly like Secret Santa that his maths teacher did every year. He normally received just simple gifts and was always underwhelmed. But this year, his Secret Santa gives him the perfect gift and he's determined to find out who this person is. It also helps that his Secret Santa has a crush on him too.

this is the place (where i don't feel lost) (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: He loved it here. He loved being with Phil and his family. He loved not being on the internet or thinking about what people are saying online, he loved the walks and the talks and the freeness that being here brought. Or Dan spends Christmas and New Years Eve with the Lesters.

through the years, we all will be together (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Martyn comes home for Christmas in 2009 and finally meets Dan, that guy his brother won’t shut up about. Ten years later, and it’s like Dan’s always been a part of the family.

Two of Martyn’s family Christmas celebrations, a decade apart.

Today Is For Us (ao3) - CaibrynM

Summary: Dan and Phil take a day for themselves in between the tour ending, planning for their premiere in Brazil and the upcoming Christmas Holidays. Lots of Fluff and a little smut.

two wolves (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: They're in the middle of a meeting, and Phil seems to be trying to tell him something. But what?

(or, Dan accidentally wears a certain novelty wolf t-shirt to an online meeting with their tour team.)

Tuppence, tuppence (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Dour joyless businessman meets quick-witted handsome chimney sweep who shows him the true meaning of Christmas

When the Storm Ends (ao3) - letspartyrightnow

Summary: dan gets caught in a snow storm and has to knock on a stranger's door to take shelter

Woman Who Doesn't Believe in Marriage Proposes to Long Term Girlfriend (REAL) (NOT CLICKBAIT) (ao3) - communist_cowboy

Summary: Dani and Phil are in it together for the love of the game. Yet as the years pass and they continue to intertwine their lives, what more really is marriage to two women who share a mortgage and a couple million kids on the internet?

[demonqueenart]

Hello another latam fan here, I just wanted to ask, you addressed the last anon about them ignoring the third world country comment and not apologizing but do they know? has the fandom being very vocal about it on twitter or places they frequent? About the demand for shows too? I am only in dnp online spaces when they are active and I ask cause I was unaware people felt hurt by that comment up to today reading through your tumblr which was quite a shock to me cause I never even registered it as an insult, just like that Mexican fan anon you received, in my country its also a term that’s still used colloquially. And please forgive me if you gotten a lot of anons like me I tried to scroll as far as I could into your tumblr ( I been here for about an hour 😅 ) I am just now learning there’s a petition to ask them to come to latam ( and Asia and Africa I believe ) to be honest I saw they had not sold out in the US and I thought well there’s no way they sell even half a venue somewhere in latam unless everyone from Mexico down to Argentina travels there but that was only my opinion because in my country we have really big local YouTubers and no one I ask has seen Dan and Phil content 😅 I hope these questions from everyone aren’t weighting on you too much I am a latam fan that never felt a need to have a tour date or an apology and was unaware others did so I been out of the loop and I feel like I am late to all these conversations taking place but I hope I can be of service from now on to help all other latam fans feel welcome in this space. ( Also I am sorry for the length of my message! it’s difficult for me to be concise in English than in Spanish, but I am working on it! )

It’s alright anon :) I don’t mind. As for the question: has the fandom been very vocal about the third world comment on twitter? yes. Yes they have.

Mirian and others from twt have been very vocal about it from the start. She has recorded a sound clip when it happened and showed it to people when she’s addressing this issue. She and a bunch of other people have addressed this again when the fake apology video happened, saying they refusing to acknowledge and apologize for the real thing. All those instances were, of course, got shunned down by people. From what I’ve heard, every time someone tries to bring it up, they’ll be silent by other twitter users. Dnp surely must have seen this for a while now, they have yet to address it. They probably won’t if we were to not call them out again.

It’s completely valid for you not to feel offended by this, we all have a different experience after all. You don’t have to be mad about any of this to still enjoy this space. I’m just hoping to bring this to light for those who’s affected by it. Because it’s not fair to keep shutting people up when they’re hurt, and it’s not okay to not do anything about it now. I hope this doesn’t weight down on you much too :)

Auto-message: This ask’s purpose is to acknowledge dnp’s past/present exclusivity, not to cancel them! But to embrace mistakes that they’ve made so that 1. we won’t exclude people in need in this community, and 2. we can normalize bringing up exclusivity so that improvement can happen. Hopefully this will one day help dnp realize that this is a safe space for them to talk about their mistakes, so that this space can become safe for people of all kinds too <3

*If you don’t understand what is happening, scroll through my blog for context. And I’ll be taking time to answer my asks, so don’t think I’m ignoring youuu*

[slytherinlizzy]

Unforgettable night – an unfortunate visit to bar Aurora

Summary: Paying a visit to Aurora, since Jake has given no signs for months, and suddenly free alcohol doesn't sound that bad after all

Characters: Lyra Ambrose (my Mc from The afterfire), Phil Hakwins, Jessy Hawkins

Warning: use of alcohol, sexual related content, vivid description of intoxicated state

___________________________________________

"It's only a two hours car ride." Lyra paced the living room as she nervously tried to convince herself. She won't deny, the thought of a persuasive PowerPoint slideshow have crossed her mind, but that might have been a bit too sick, even from her. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and stared out into the late afternoon sun that completely covered the street.

"Let's think rationally. What reason do I have to go there?"

What reason does she have? Jake hasn't given a sign of himself in months, not even that he's alive. She was aware of what had happened that night in the mine; the news was full of it, just as the German government itself was puzzled by the incident. The thought, the guilt that she should have been the one to be there didn't let her rest. Richy wanted her to come. All these thoughts embedded themselves in her everyday life, even at night, and dreams suddenly turned into nightmares full of terror.

She couldn't take it anymore, no matter how much she convinced herself, or even Jessy, she started to give in under the weight. The redhead was the only one who knew about it; she shut herself away from the others, refused to hear anything about them. Everything took a toll on Jessy at least as much, and on top of that, even keeping a secret fell on her shoulders. This also made Lyra feel terrible. She would have preferred to escape from the world.

And what was she about to do? Go to the very place all her problems originate from.

"This will be just one night..." She picked up the car keys from the dresser and put them back. "I can't hide here forever, waiting to wither away."

But you know well you deserve it. The evil little voice in her head spoke. This voice had guided the longest six months of her life so far, and before she could surrender to it again, she grabbed her jacket and bag, shoving the key in hee back pocket. She calmed herself down the whole way with the thought that nothing would go wrong, and suddenly the promise of free alcohol didn't sound that bad after all.

* * * * *

The woman pulled into the parking lot next to the building in total darkness. Even from the road, the illuminated sign was clearly visible; the Aurora welcomed those who wanted to have fun with open arms tonight. Carefully pulling on the worn-out jacket, she started towards the entrance wearing the blouse she had just put on for the first, and most certainly for the last time in her life.

Uncomfortable and too cut out, she thought. She sneaked through the door and immediately stopped, all she could manage to say was: "Damn thing this is."

The music was louder than it should have been for the ears, she could almost feel the blood rushing in her eardrums. At some places, the lights were as blinding as on the sign outside, the inhalation of the smell of alcohol and people was unavoidable. This wasn't a nice little bar where you sit at the end of the day, Lyra realized, but a party place. Why though, hardly any young people live here!

She ventured inside, since she can't stand leaning against the door. She fought her way through the people – not many, but there were noticeably enough to block her way – and reached the bar, where a man was wiping the glasses deep in thought. Lyra plopped down on a chair and waited patiently for him to notice. As she did so, she scanned the tattooed black haired from head to toe. All his movements were measured and determined as he placed the whiskey glasses one by one. He looked quite like a bartender, she came to the conclusion.

"What can I give you?" He asked without looking at her. Lyra watched from the side as his Adam's apple bounced up and down his tattooed neck. It's pretty scary that someone can stand someone drawing it full on there. The guy must be a sociopath.

"Something pretty strong and a lot."

At that, he suddenly turned his head to the woman who was resting her elbow on the counter. He, too, studied her, brows narrowed in thought. Or maybe he was surprised? Did he find her question unclear?

"Lyra, am I wrong?"

"Nince meeting you in person, Phil." She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Surprising you found your way here after all these months."

Lyra watched as he set to make her drink, trying to answer with a good composure. "I remembered your invitation. Would've been rude to forget about it." The silence was long, so before it got awkward, she quickly asked, "Have you talked to Jessy?"

"I should've?"

She stared back at him in disbelief. "She's sister! She's in a terrible state because of the loss of a friend, you emotionally cold prick! Of course–"

"Quiet," he hushed, nervously running his eyes over the crowd. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't have heard anything. If it wasn't for the music, then because of the alcohol. "And don't call me a prick."

The woman forced herself to calm down. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want since I take better care of her than her own brother."

Phil shrugged and reached for another bottle, but Lyra didn't even have time to finish the first glass. "What are you doing?"

"A drink." He pointed at the ingredients. "This is my job."

"I didn't ask for a new one."

"You're my guest, drink as much as I make. Drink as much of them as you can, of course."

As if this were a challenge, Lyra took the half-finished cocktail from him and drank it up with two sips. Phil watched in amusement how that woman whom he just met in person – a rather pretty one, he had to admit – was so easily offended.

"Better give me a shot. Or two. This," she pointed to the now empty elegant glass, "was nothing."

And it went on like this for long hours. Phil didn't talk to anyone all night except the increasingly talkative woman who was drinking alcohol like others eat sugar. As the numbness began to take control over her body and soul, she began to feel better and better, and she didn't understand why she hadn't done this before. It seemed much easier to forget about Jake and the problems, even the fact that she was very much in Duskwood, from where she would have to drive home.

All she could see was Phil and the liquids floating in the lights, more and more of which she was putting into herself than it was in the bottles. The glasses just piled up in front of her, Phil after a while watching her in concern, which easily faded as he listened to her words.

"Tell me," she tried to swallow, but her dry throat didn't let her, "is this place always like this?"

The man laughed and looked at the woman and the dancers behind her. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, you're in luck today, because I don't often organize such fast-paced evenings. But I did it by popular demand, you actually just wandered into a guy's birthday party."

The realization crept into her brain so slowly it was ridiculous. She lowered her head to the counter in shame, muttering a line in annoyance until two warm hands lifted it up.

"Get your pretty head up from there ."

"I'm sorry, I–"

"There's nothing to be sorry about, I was already bored to death here. They aren't very talkative with the bartender. But you," he poked a finger at her forehead, Lyra going cross-eyed to see what's there that he needed to point it out, "you came and saved me, love."

"I'm not love." She grimaced, watching the fingers move away.

"Well, we can easily help with that."

She hummed and nodded, as if she understood anything from Phil's complicated words. She reached for another shot, the sips traveling down her throat more and more slowly. What time was it? She needs to go home.

"I'm now... going home now– okay?"

"You're not going yet, Lyra, stay a while."

"I'm not going? Now... why wouldn't I go?" She looked at the grinning man in confusion.

"Because I don't want you to yet."

The bartender again turned the woman's gaze towards him, which had been wandering towards the exit. He was out of the counter in a few long steps, plopped down on a chair next to Lyra, taking a sip of a drink. Lyra looked at him with interest, since he shouldn't be there now, he was standing somewhere else before. She found another glass in her hand, this time for unknown reasons. Without thinking, she chugged it, an unpleasant feeling running down the back of her neck, burning into her lungs. Then another one. She could barely swallow the honey-colored liquid, a new one was already there, like some kind of miraculous magic, recharging itself.

"Maybe I should, some water–"

"Shush, we don't give that here."

Oh. So no water, okay. Okay. Okay?

She felt fingers on her own, but they were definitely not hers. One, two...six, nine, that's twelve, she counted the body parts to herself, the rising warmth that made the hair stand up even where it didn't touch. Eagerly, ever higher.

Phil stroked the flushed face, the touch seeming both soft and hungry, far from tender... Lyra stared down at the remaining brownish drink in her hands, debating whether to drink it, when she heard a deep voice so close to her it felt like it's coming from her very own body.

"You're such a lovely young lady, such a waste you come from so far away. We can't let you drive tonight, can we?"

"No..." she mumbled, because honestly, even that one word seemed hard to articulate properly. Intoxicated not just by the alcohol, but that something dusgustingly creeping through her body. She focused so hard on trying to figure it out that she didn't even notice the screeching of her own chair. Something wrapped around her legs that hold her close, a feeling of warmness and strong, strong grip, and suddenly she had four legs. How the hell did she just get four of them? Where did they come from?

The fingers continued to map the skin incessantly, burrowing into the freshly washed hair at the base of her neck.

"Olive, am I right?" The voice hummed in her ear. Olive? That's not delicious.

Something sticky and moving traced itself along her jaw, and that was the last straw the drunk woman could take. The new legs around her were acceptable, but this new thing – a bug, fingers, lips? – on her face was too much. The chair creaked loudly on the floor and she nervously began to search for a way out through the heaving crowd. An arm grabbed hers, spun her around a few times, then let her go again, finding a better dance partner. Lyra, on the brink of an impending panic attack, stumbled on until she felt something solid and cool under her fingers. She pressed the doorknob hard, and she stumbled out of the bar, all tipsy and halfway unconscious.

She took a look at the parking lot, scanning the cars shrouded in darkness with the brown eyes, desperately searching for a grey one. She found it, then another, and then one more.

Okay, then we're not going by car.

In the cool night, where not even the Moon nor the stars decided to come for her help, Lyra ran and ran until her lungs collapsed inside her chest, heart pounding louder than the shoes against the gravel, and her legs felt like they might give out at any moment.

As if this was the way her body wanted to cleanse itself of the unpleasant alcohol, she felt tears on her burning cheeks, but she continued to jog. To where, she didn't know, but far away from there, to a place where there is no excess of people and alcohol, no intrusive touches, and no Phil Hawkins.

Even the rain poured down, pelting the ground with all its might. Maybe it also wanted to cleanse itself of some terrible, disgusting feeling? Or is this how it punishes those who cannot protect themselves from this?

"What did I do to deserve this?!" She shouted, staring up at the sky, her words lost in the night. She just stood and cried in the middle of the road, not a soul in sight to hear her obvious suffer from the pain she didn't ask for. She has no car, no dignity, Jake left her just like that, Richy ruined lives, she's a horrible person, and she's too drunk to walk to the side of the road to avoid being hit by a speeding driver.

Sobbing, she took out her phone and called the first person on the list.

"Hello? Lyra– why are you crying?"

She took a deep breath as she explained everything to Jessy. She drove to Duskwood because she's totally nuts, and there's no denying that. Also went to the Aurora, where she found herself uninvited at a guy's birthday party, and that made her feel even worse. She drank, talked, and her brother is a total jerk for whom she can't find a better adjective at the moment. It's too dark and raining and her whole life is crap.

"And I've got this bloody blouse on, and those extra two legs! Jessy, I don't want it on me!"

"Lyra, listen here," she tried to get the brunette's attention, feeling that this was not the right moment to discuss why she thinks she has four legs. "Look around and tell me what do you see, okay? A house, sign, bench, flowers, a car, do you see anything?"

Lyra sniffed and looked, but she couldn't make out much in the cloudy night. "Well, there's a nice house here, oh how I'd like to live in one like that! There are more next to it, and two black cars on the right side... I'll go see what else there is."

"No! Don't move from there, Lyra, do you hear me? Stay put. I'll be right there to get you, understand?"

Feet rooted to the ground, she was standing on the road, just blinking in the rain. It was pouring without wanting to stop.

"There's also a nice looking rose bush," she said suddenly. "Oh, there's more! Dark flowers, Jessy, they look like black flowers! Can you imagine such?"

For long moments, there was only shuffling on the other end of the line. Lyra checked several times to see if the line was broken, but she didn't understand much of the words, and the flickering screen was quite painful to look at.

"Wait, I see you! You're in front of my house!

And really. A woman stood in the window, waving at her. The movement seemed too fast for Lyra, dizzyingly fast. The figure suddenly disappeared and a warm light flooded from the front door, a woman in pajamas clutching an umbrella rushing towards her. Muttering desperate words, she ushered her in, and in no more than a few moments she was standing in a hallway dripping wet, as the tousled redhead rushed around her.

"You're drunk! What happened, Lyra?"

She didn't get an answer, but she didn't expect one either. Jessy dried her off and changed her into more comfortable clothes. While she spread the soaked clothes on the chairs, she pressed a glass of water into her hand, telling her to drink it until she returned. Lyra felt like a small child again, fearing the wrath of her strict mother and doing everything she was told.

Jessy soon returned and took the glass from her with a satisfied nod and they sat – Lyra collapsed – down on the couch. The redhead wanted nothing more than to have her tell everything that happened to her, but given her condition, she just pulled Lyra close and held her.

"I thought," she whispered by herself into her neck, "if I came here, maybe it would be better. But it didn't get better. I went into the bar, you know."

Jessy hummed in understanding, but she didn't stop, the words just kept rolling off her tongue.

"I drank one glass, then two, after the third I don't remember how much more, but I didn't even count. It was really bad, but for some reason I was still sipping the alcohol. Then... your brother... You know exactly what he's like..."

"I know." She placed a small kiss on the top of her head. "It's okay now."

"I'm constantly afraid and nervous." She looked up into the pair of brown eyes with her own tearful ones and she saw in them all the sadness in the world, including what Lyra hadn't said yet. "I miss him. I want Jake here, just this one thing. I want to know… I want to know everything so I can die peacefully."

"Oh Lyra." She held her close, which was almost impossible, since there was not an inch between them. "Don't be dramatic, you dolt."

"I'm going to die someday anyway."

"Yes, but not now. By then, Jake will reach out and the two of you will have reconciled nicely, all the truth will be revealed and there will be no more secrets."

"Do you seriously think so?" She looked up hopefully at the smiling face. She smiles so reassuringly…

"The most seriously."

And Jessy was often right. Not always, but when Lyra felt she was right, it usually was the case. And now she felt it. Two can't be wrong, can they?

That night, she ended up falling asleep in Jessy's arms. For the first time in seven months she felt safe, so she spent the next seven one there; most of the time with quiet nights, next to Jessy, in secret, knowing nothing about Jake.

[phiclets]

Make It Work

challenging myself to write phiclets based on a single randomly generated word: pt 1 / ?

word: arrange

tags: wad era, hurt/comfort

lil disclaimer - I write for vibes, not facts. if anything within this fic is factually inaccurate, please treat it as "canon" divergence and simply enjoy the ride ✌🏼🫶🏼

also on ao3 for your reading pleasure

-

After two joint tours with Phil, Dan knows how to troubleshoot on the road. Venue cancellation? He's spending the night adjusting his stage blocking to the new venue dimensions based on grainy Google Images. Stomach issues on the bus? No problem, there's a little pharmacy in the back pocket of his duffel waiting to be abused. Problems with ticketing agencies? If there's one thing two tours has taught him, it's that being a Karen is both a learned skill and sometimes absolutely necessary to avoid a total event collapse two hours before a show.

All this to say, he's become adaptable through his significant experience over the years. He can adjust.

But there's one thing he simply would not have been able to suffer going wrong on the We're All Doomed tour.

Missing Phil's birthday.

To be completely honest, he's not ashamed of the not insignificant amount of grief he put his team through trying to make the route from New Zealand to the UK work in time for the 30th. In his defence, he had tried to arrange it all himself, but after a few choice words from a team member who had far superior knowledge about logistics and planning than him, he'd shut up and just allowed a squadron of ten people crank their brains over how to get their solo performer across the world, mid-tour, to spend a few days with his friend before the show went on. ("Friend" never went down well with any of them if discussed at length, which is why they just kind of didn't.)

But they pulled it off, the madlads. They got him the dates, they got him the flight, and Dan was so, so, so ready by the time he performed in New Zealand to be out of there immediately and back in Phil's arms - if only for a few precious days. Not that he didn't love and appreciate the chance to see his fans from everywhere around the world, but you have to understand, by this point he'd spent months away from a man he'd previously only been separated from for 2 and a half weeks, since the day they met. In two thousand and nine.

Dan missed Phil. He missed him with a fierceness. The day before his flight, sitting in a hotel room listening to a news report about the unexpected floods ravaging the area with one ear, and Phil speaking to him in calm tones through the sweat-slick phone pressed to the other, trying to assure him that it would all clear up by the time Dan was due to fly, Dan felt like he could have vibrated out of his own skin. He wanted to be formless (not the first time he's thought that), without a body, just so he could forego the fucking roads and airplane and just materialise next to Phil in his green bedroom in London, right then. After hanging up — following a promise from Phil that he would call back as soon as he'd had his shower — Dan was left to the urgent, roiling feelings in his stomach and chest, and he started thinking about his show. We're All Doomed. The 2-hour-long essay on a stage, essentially, that lamented about and made fun of the world that was seemingly crumbling around them every day. (It was the epitome of If I don't laugh, I'll cry — so let's just laugh.) He thought about pop culture, and consumerism, and politics and war, and the thing he kept coming back to at the ends of each of these tangents was:

If everyone loved, and craved, and missed another person or thing as purposefully — as fundamentally — as I miss Phil right now, there wouldn't be any fucking confusion about the real priorities in the world.

A thought that made him laugh to himself a little, really. So was the solution to the world's problems, in the end, actually, cheesily, ridiculously: love?

Yeah. It really did feel like it.

-

In the end, his plane took off. He sat with all 6'3" of himself folded into a (thankfully) business class seat for nearly 20 hours. He watched a bunch of random shit. He missed Phil, but the relief of knowing he was at least making physical progress towards him now was a good counterbalance to the pain, lowering the pressure in his chest with each passing minute.

By the time he landed in Heathrow, he felt like the most disgusting person on the planet, but he powered through immigration, baggage claim, and security like they didn't exist. He had an Uber booked the moment he had a clear path to the exits, and he fucking power-walked to that bitch. (Phil wasn't picking him up at the airport because - well, it was Phil. He'd said something about them both ending up back in the house anyway, so why bother making the trip to and from the airport. He could just "get the house ready for Dan to crash in" instead. Whatever that meant.) (Probably hiding all the houseplants he'd murdered in Dan's absence.)

And by the time Dan made it to their front door, he could hardly even believe it. Was he standing here? Was he shuffling through the keys on his keyring for the one he hadn't touched in months, the one that would let him into their home? It felt familiar in his muscles, and like a totally new experience in his brain.

He unlocked the door and pushed, just as at that same moment it was pulled in, and he nearly fell over from the unexpected lack of resistance as the door gave out from beneath his fingers - though even if he'd fallen he wouldn't have fallen to the floor. Just into a painfully real, painfully sweet and familiar body standing just across the threshold. Dan looked up and spontaneously laughed, just a small laugh, quiet and airy from lack of breath. Opposite him - so close to him, so there - Phil smiled in similarly elated, disbelieving fashion. And Dan let himself fall where he'd caught himself before. His forehead found Phil's bony shoulder, his hands interlocked simply - was it all so ridiculously simple? - over the small of Phil's back. Phil's arms took him and brought him closer still.

Dan let himself disappear into it. Formless, body-less. Just the feeling of being in love.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

If possible could you do a Daisy Johnson x wife reader where reader is extremely overprotective and when reader and Daisy get into a argument over reader being overprotective thats gets so heated that Daisy ends up saying that their marriage was a mistake and reader takes their wedding ring and throws it at daisy and reader tells daisy to go to hell and runs to Coulson crying and Coulson confronts Daisy for making reader cry and Coulson explains to Daisy why reader is overprotective (Reader is Phil Coulson's inhuman/mutant adopted daughter)

The past

Summary: Actions done in the present stem from mistakes made in the past.

Pairing: Daisy Johnson x female!reader

Warnings: some angst, cursing

Word count: 1136

a/n: thank you everyone for your patience regarding your requests, I’m doing my best to do as many as I can now :)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

Daisy paces around the room, her hands crossed over her chest. Y/N is sitting on their bed with a frown on her face. They’ve been fighting for a long time now. It started after a mission, where Y/N pushed Daisy out of harms way, even though she could have handled herself well.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” Daisy groans, looking at Y/N, who avoids eye contact with her. “It’s annoying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry!” Her voice is louder now, making Y/N flinch slightly. “I need you to stop being so damn overprotective, I’m not a child that needs saving.”

Y/N stands up to level with Daisy. “I don’t think you are a child, I just don’t want you to get hurt, or..or die!”

“I’m not dying.” Daisy rubs her forehead, closing her eyes tightly. “Yes, there are risks, but this is the job we both signed up to do! And I can’t do that job, if you’re in my way.”

“I know there are risks, but me protecting you is part of the job! We keep each other safe.”

“Oh god.” Daisy groans loudly, throwing her head back. “You just don’t get it!”

“Then explain it to me!”

“I keep trying! I’ve tried and tried, but you just don’t care. You’re literally suffocating me!” Daisy’s hand are flying around the air as she yells. “Maybe this was a mistake!” She points between them. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.”

Y/N stares at Daisy. Her face fallen and tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “Go to hell, Daisy.” Pulling off her wedding ring, she throws it in Daisy’s general direction. She runs out of the room, slamming the door shut in the process, and straight to Phil.

She’s full blown sobbing she reaches her adoptive father. “Hey, what happened?” He opens his arms instantly, wrapping his arms around her as she leans against him.

“We fought.” She cries, pressing her face against his shoulder, which quietens her voice even more. “She said that- that maybe our marriage was a mistake.”

“What?” One of Phil’s hands caresses her back, while the other combs through her hair, doing his best to console her. “Why?”

”Because I can’t stop suffocating her.”

Phil frowns, not knowing what to say, so he just continues comforting her until she gets tired. Then he brings Y/N to his room. “Go to sleep, okay? We’ll sort it out later.”

“Okay.” She whispers, flopping down to his bed and pulling the cover completely over her, wanting to hide from the world.

Shutting the lights, Phil leaves the room, closing the door behind him, before walking to what usually is Daisy and Y/N’s shared room. He knocks on the door, stepping inside once she hears a quiet come in from the inside.

Daisy is sitting on the bed, her cheeks red from crying. She tries to smile when she sees Phil coming in, but it doesn’t really look like one. “Hi.” Her voice is hoarse. “You heard?”

“Yeah.” Phil sits next to her.

“I feel awful. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“I know.”

“I just feel like we don’t understand each other.” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not incapable of taking care of myself.”

Patting Daisy’s leg, Phil looks at her. “Do you know why I adopted Y/N?” Daisy shakes her head, it wasn’t something she and Y/N talked about. “Her parents were SHIELD agents. One day, when Y/N was ten and had already gone through terrigenesis, they had a mission. Just the two of them, no backup. It was supposed to be easy, in and out.”

“What was the mission?”

“To find a cure for Y/N’s inhuman powers. It wasn’t a known thing back then, they thought it was..wrong and something to be cured.” He explains when Daisy grimaces. “They went into an abandoned HYDRA facility, except the intel was wrong. It was swarming with HYDRA agents. And because they had no backup, they were killed during that mission. I was the one to tell Y/N what happened. She blamed herself.”

“And she still does.” Daisy whispers, staring at her hands. “That’s why she’s so protective of the team.”

Phil nods. He watches Daisy wrap her head around the new information. “She doesn’t want anyone to die because she could’ve done more. Which is why she does the most on every single mission.”

“I should go talk to her.” Daisy stares at Y/N’s ring she’s holding and her own wedding ring on her finger. They got married for a reason. “Where is she?”

“In my room.”

“Okay, thank you, AC.” She stands up with a slight smile, ignoring the disapproving look Phil has on his face about the nickname.

Daisy knocks on the door, making herself known before stepping inside. The cover is moving up and down quietly, going with Y/N’s breathing. Sitting down behind her, Daisy sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently caressing it.

“Dad?” A muffled comes from under the covers.

“It’s me.”

Y/N stretches her neck back to see Daisy sitting there. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just sad. Y/N sits up on the bed, leaning her back against the backboard to put some space between the two.

“I brought your ring back.” Daisy sets the ring to the mattress. Y/N stays quiet. “Our marriage wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry I said that, and I’m sorry I got angry at you. I was the one who didn’t understand.” Her voice is soft and she keeps eye contact with Y/N, wanting to show her she’s being genuine. “Coulson told me what happened with your parents,” this makes Y/N look away from her, “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst, but now I know.”

They stay quiet. Y/N is staring at the ring laying near her and Daisy is looking at her. Finally, Y/N picks up the ring and slides it back into her ring finger, where it belongs. “It’s okay.” She whispers with a small smile. “We still have a lot to learn, and I’ll try to be less overbearing.”

“Don’t.” Daisy moves to sit right next to Y/N so she can hold her hand. “You do the most during missions and that has saved our asses so many times. Don’t be anything less.”

Y/N leans her head on Daisy’s shoulder. “Okay.”

“I’m also sorry about your parents.”

Letting out a small hum, Y/N nods. Daisy stays quiet after that, noticing she doesn’t want to talk about them anymore. So, she lays her head on top of Y/N’s and puts on a movie, hoping tomorrow’ll be better.

[isa-ghost]

I need qPhil to tell Sunny how awesome and swaggy she is so she stops thinking he hates her and so Tubblings that clearly don't watch any other POV besides Tubbo's shut the FUCK up about Phil hating her and stop posting the most rancid, untrue, one-sided & illiterate ass takes I've ever seen.

IT'S MISCOMMUNICATION. THAT QPHIL DOESNT REALIZE IS HAPPENING. BECAUSE NO ONE HAS TOLD HIM. BECAUSE QTUBBO'S STUPID ASS (I SAY THIS AS A TUBBLING MYSELF) DOESN'T FUCKING SPEAK UP FOR HIS DAUGHTER. AT LEAST NOT OFTEN ENOUGH. NO ONE ELSE BESIDES HIM REALIZES SUNNY IS FEELING THE WAY SHE IS. AND HE SAYS NOTHING ABOUT IT TO ANYONE. AND SUNNY DOESN'T REALIZE SHE CAN SPEAK UP HERSELF. OR SHE'S AFRAID TO BC SHE'S JUST A KID, WHICH IS COMPLETELY VALID. SUNNY'S ADMIN IS FANTASTIC AT PLAYING A CHILD THAT DOESN'T UNDERSTAND THIS SOCIAL STUFF.

TUBBLINGS NEED TO PULL THEMSELVES OUT OF RP FOR 2 SECONDS AND REALIZE A CHILD'S PERCEPTION OF THE WORLD ISN'T WHAT'S ACTUALLY TRUE. FOR A BUNCH OF CHRONIC METAGAMERS, THEY FUCKING SUCK AT THINKING META WHEN IT ACTUALLY FUCKING MATTERS. I SAY THIS AS SOMEONE WHO WATCHES STREAMS REGULARLY. I SEE CHAT.

AND IT SHOULDN'T BE ONLY SUNNY'S JOB TO SPEAK UP FOR HERSELF WHEN SHE'S FEELING A BAD WAY ANYWAY. PARENTS SPEAK FOR THEIR EGGS ALL THE TIME. TUBBLINGS MAY NOT HAVE WATCHED QSMP BEFORE TUBBO WAS ON TO KNOW THAT, BUT THEY'RE METAGAMING LITTLE FUCKERS ANYWAY. SO IF THEY'RE SO PRESSED ABOUT THIS, THE LEAST THEY COULD DO IS THINK OF PROPOSING COMMUNICATING ON SUNNY'S BEHALF AS IF IT'S AN ORIGINAL IDEA THEY HAD, SINCE THEY LOVE SUGGESTING META OR BACKGAME-Y SHIT SO MUCH.

OR THEY SHOULD THEMSELVES OUT OF RP FOR 2 FUCKING SECONDS TO REALIZE ROLEPLAY IS ABOUT COMMUNICATION. AND TUBBO IS NOT COMMUNICATING THAT THERE IS AN ISSUE. SO THIS IS NOT PHIL'S FAULT.

Also Tubblings & Phil antis in general have this habit of assuming he's being fucking rude when That's Just How Northerners Talk. So good job, you dumbasses are stereotyping. I've seen so many UK northerners speak up about how they hate seeing people from their region labeled as assholes for talking the way they talk. But I digress.

REGARDLESS OF FANDOM ISSUES.

QTUBBO SHOULD HAVE TOLD PHIL BY NOW THAT SUNNY FEELS THIS WAY. INSTEAD OF LETTING THIS FUCKING FESTER. WORSE, SOMETIMES HE STRAIGHT UP TALKS TO SUNNY LIKE HER PERCEPTION OF PHIL HATING HER IS TRUE. RATHER THAN REASSURING HER HE DOESN'T. FROM PHIL'S POV, TALLULAH & SUNNY GET ALONG NOW SO THERE'S NO TENSION BETWEEN THE DEATH FAMILY & THE UNDERSCORE FAMILY. HE HAS NO FUCKING IDEA THAT SUNNY DOESN'T RECOGNIZE HE'S TEASING. OR THAT HE CAME OFF A WRONG WAY. AGAIN, HE JUST TALKS THE WAY HE TALKS. AND SUNNY DOESN'T REALIZE THAT. AND THAT'S OK BC SHE'S A KID.

I hope to god this is ccTubbo playing his character this way intentionally bc I'm down for imperfect/flawed characters. Even if this is aggravating me SO MUCH and even if I HATE characters that think everyone & everything is against them when it's clearly not true. Bc at least then that means there's time for qTubbo to learn he's severely fucking things up going about things the way he is. There's opportunity for the narrative to progress and for the conflict to resolve. qPhil is imperfect and flawed and I snort that shit like crack. I'm down to ride out qTubbo's character development just the same even if I don't enjoy it.

BUT UNDER THE ASSUMPTION THAT THIS IS NOT A MATTER OF META VS RP AND NOT AN INTENTIONAL CHOICE ON CCTUBBO'S PART.

QTUBBO SHOULD BE SUPPORTING SUNNY WHETHER THAT MEANS SPEAKING UP FOR HER OR ENCOURAGING HER TO. INSTEAD HE BASICALLY GOES "DAMN THAT'S CRAZY, WE'RE BOTH SO HATED" AND MOVES ON. WHEN. IF YOU WATCH PHIL OR FIT OR PAC OR MAYBE EVEN BAGI BC SHE'S ON "EARLY" SOMETIMES. THEY ALL CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THEM BOTH. THEY CARE ABOUT EVERY ISLANDER. EVEN THE ONES THAT DON'T SHOW UP FOR FUCKING MONTHS. ITS THEM VS THE FEDS. ALWAYS. EVEN AFTER FUCKING PURGATORY, THEY WILL ALL STILL DROP EVERYTHING TO MAKE SURE EGGS ARE OK OR ASK IF PEOPLE NEED HELP WHEN MESSAGES POP UP IN CHAT. THEY STILL PANIC EVEN WHEN MESSAGES OF SOMEONE GOING DOWN POP UP BECAUSE THEY'RE PLAYING AROUND. IT HAPPENED JUST THE OTHER DAY WITH RICHAS AND MIKE. NOT EVEN BEING FORCED TO BETRAY AND HURT EACH OTHER, AND BEING PITTED AGAINST EACH OTHER FOR WEEKS HAS BROKEN THE BONDS THEY ALL HAVE. THIS ISLAND HAS ALWAYS BEEN AN "IT TAKES A VILLAGE" ISLAND. EGG NEED HELP, EGG SAD, PARENTS SCRAMBLE TO HELP AND COMFORT. SAME WITH FELLOW ISLANDERS. EVERYTHING THE ISLANDERS DO IS TO A) PROTECT THE EGGS NO MATTER WHO'S EGG IT IS, B) PROTECT AND SUPPORT EACH OTHER, AND C) TO FIND ANSWERS FROM THE FEDS TO GET CLOSURE. OR ESCAPE THE ISLAND. THE DAY TUBBLINGS LEARN THAT IT'S NOT AND NEVER HAS BEEN TUBBO VS EVERYONE IS THE DAY I KNOW FUCKING PEACE.

SO I AM BEGGING. THAT IF QTUBBO WON'T FUCKING SPEAK UP FOR SUNNY. AND IF SHE'S TOO AFRAID TO SPEAK UP FOR HERSELF. THAT AT THE VERY LEAST, PHIL FUCKING DOTES ON HER SO SHE REALIZES HE DOESN'T FUCKING HATE HER. AND THEN TUBBLINGS REALIZE HE DOESN'T FUCKING HATE HER. HE DOESN'T HATE ANYONE ON THE ISLAND THAT ISN'T A FED OR A PURGATORY FUCKWAD. AND BY DOTING ON SUNNY AND TELLING HER HOW COOL AND FUN SHE IS, TUBBLINGS WILL FINALLY SHUT THE FUCK UP. AND SUNNY AND THE CROWS WILL ALL KNOW FUCKING PEACE.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

I got stuck in 2 hours of traffic and got an AU Idea.

Dark SBI because I'm nothing if not consistent.

TW: character death (he gets better, though. Or, well, he reincarnates. Techno is just temporarily dead.)

Anyways, the whole world knows one truth.

God is Dead.

Or, at least, the being people remember as god is dead.

They all argue on the how and the why and the when and the who. But every culture agrees that the only god that walked the earth is dead.

And he took magic with him.

Modern time, archeologists discover an ancient underwater temple, absolutely gorgeous and in its original state. Sending robots down, they discover this one room that MUST be important. It's locked up. And it has these strange markings on it that remind them of texts on magic. But magic is gone, so they aren't worried.

Turns out, they should've been worried.

Because god was not dead.

He was imprisoned.

Philza, the one revered as a god, had once ruled the world. Completely. Wholely. His magic and might prevented anyone from standing against him.

Of course, he didn't do it alone.

His best friend was human. A master swordsman who literally did not CARE about knowing magic. That could be Philza's thing. He was a strategist, a scholar, a warrior, and a god's best friend.

He was Technoblade.

Technoblade would refuse his friend's insistence that Technoblade become immortal, uninterested in playing life on easy mode. Besides, he already couldn't be beat. Technoblade never dies, he didn’t need magic.

A coup happens, unthinkable. But Techno is getting older. Slower. So he gets caught. And the conspirators use that against Philza. Technoblade will die or Philza will consent to being bound.

It's not a hard choice for Philza.

But, as they are shutting the doors on his tomb, one conspirator grins and slits Techno's throat, leaving Phil's final view of his friend being Techno dying.

When Philza is released, he is FURIOUS. Thousands of years have only made his wrath grow.

The death toll approaches millions, before someone who knows even a fraction of the ancient language is able to convince Philza to talk to them. But, the language is OLD. It is HARD to communicate in a LONG DEAD language.

Philza doesn't calm down, but he ceases his rampage. And then he notices the faint trace of his friend's soul, somewhere in the world. He can't tell where, but it's THERE. Techno has been reincarnated. He tells the interpreter that his revenge will only end when they bring him the person he needs.

The remains of the human government agree because what else can they do?

But, ancient language, you know. Unfortunately, somethings get lost in translation.

Translator thinks that Philza is mad at Technoblade and wants to murder him.

So all the governments think the same.

When Philza gives them a description of the person, the governments start a MANHUNT. When everyone promises Phil that they will find Techno, Philza is pleased and actually retreats to create a palace worthy of his friend. Somewhere he can keep him safe.

Technoblade is not feeling very safe when he sees his face on the TV, claiming that he is now WANTED. He literally has 1 semester left. Just One. And then he would graduate college. He already spent money on the GRE, applied to graduate programs.

What was he supposed to do with this?!?!?!?

It's a good thing he always liked camping.

Techno FLEES. Gets off the grid as soon as possible. He can't trust ANYONE. Finds an old abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere and settles in. He is NOT going to get murked by an ancient god that's not going to happen.

Years pass, Techno is not found. Philza is getting antsy. The governments are getting nervous. Especially when cults start popping up, fanatics on every corner crying wolf about ever person VAGUELY looking like Techno.

It's some teenage campers that get him caught.

They had lost their way in the woods and stumbled across Techno and his cabin. Techno tries to hide his face, his hair, any identifying features. He thinks he's managed it.

He didn't. They turn him in the moment they get back.

Techno tries to fight back, but what exactly is he supposed to do when he's surrounded by swat teams?

They drag him back in chains to a government facility. Somehow the news gets informed of him being found. It's a media circus as Techno is dragged to the deific palace that Philza has crafted. He is yelled at, things thrown at him, disgruntled cops leaving bruises and scrapes all over him. He's exhausted, starving, dehydrated. He is in awful shape, everyone in the world blaming him for their suffering.

He can barely struggle when he is dragged in front of Philza, forced onto his knees before a throne with his hands cuffed behind his back.

The throne room is quiet.

Silent.

Philza slowly gets up. Approaches near silently as Techno's heartbeat is loud in his ears.

Philza kneels before him, gently tips his chin up to meet his eye.

And Philza grins, his smile brighter than the sun, and presses his forehead to Techno's. Techno flinches because Philza brushes against a sore spot, only then does Philza seem to realize what kind of state Techno is in.

Philza demands answers. The translator and Techno's captors struggle to give him a good answer. An argument starts, the tension thick and Technoblade has been through a lot.

He collapses, Philza catching him.

The steps of Philza's palace are covered in oceans of blood, it dripping down the sides and into the road. The bodies are left for hours, no one brave enough to collect them.

Philza stores Techno deep within his palace, somewhere no one can find him or hurt him. And starts the process of making Technoblade immortal.

Whether he likes it or not.

Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

Curses on you Lenn, you dropped this in my inbox several days ago and it's still all I can think about. The brainrot is real and the urge to write this is big. Vengeful God Philza who is horrific to anybody except his favorite mortal is so good, and combine it with 'has no clue what's going on' just a guy Techno... perfection.

So many fun questions left unanswered:

How does Phil feel about Techno not having his memories? Does it sadden him? Does he try his best to educate Techno about their shared history? Or does he not really care as long as Techno is safe, is his, and can never be taken from him again?

Can Techno even get his memories back? If yes, what happens when he does? How does he feel about them?

How does making somebody immortal work (and can I make Techno whump out of it?)

Once Techno does realize that Philza isn't meaning to kill him, how receptive is he to this new life of his? Is he still going to try and get away (maybe even after becoming immortal) or is he open to trying to befriend Phil? How does Phil react if Techno doesn't want to stay?

Does Phil chill the fuck out once he has Techno back or does the trauma of seeing his bestie die + many years of isolation mean he's kinda permanently in 'if you look at him I'll kill you' mode. Kinda hope it's the latter because then we can go so hard on the dark fluff and possessiveness/protectiveness.

[oncasette]

a lil request: climbing into bed with Phil after a long day of work.. 🥰

let me show you everything i know

summary: 0.5k

You’re not sure when the lamp was turned off or when Phil’s breathing had gotten heavier or, even, when your eyes had shut, but the next time you’re conscious of what’s happening your husband has thrown his body almost completely over top of yours and your legs have intertwined themselves with his.

or the one where you come home to phil after a long day

warnings: none

masterlist | taglist

You think your bones have turned into jelly. Or a watery jell-o. Thick and goopy with exhaustion so prevalent it’s worked its way into your bloodstream. Your shoes have already been kicked off, forgotten by the door along with your purse and your keys and your brain, probably. 

Phil’s already in bed when you shuffle into the room. He’s leaned up against the headboard with his well-worn copy of Wuthering Heights in hand, reading glasses drooping over his nose and a threadbare t-shirt you’re nearly dying to curl into. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he lazily stamps his bookmark–the receipt he’d gotten at the coffee shop last saturday–between the pages before he sets it on his nightstand. 

You offer him some semblance of a hum in response, tripping over your own feet as you drag yourself to the closet. Your skirt comes off first–the zipper only getting stuck once on its way down your thighs–then your shirt and your stockings and the bobby pins that’d started to ache at the base of your skull. 

“You okay?” he asks. His palm sweeps his brow as he watches you. 

“Fine, baby,” you sigh as you riffle through Phil’s t-shirt drawer. You’re not sure which one you’re looking for. Not really looking for a specific one at all, really, but you grab his old high school football shirt quicker than you probably should’ve. “Long day.”

Slipping the thin cotton over your head, you keep your arms from going through the holes and undo your bra beneath the new warmth. You pull it out from under the shirt, nearly missing the low whistle your husband gives you from the few feet separating you from the bed. “Long day, huh?” he asks. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Just people being annoying. Bill started-” “Bill’s an asshole,” he interjects with a scoff, opening the covers for you to slip beneath them as he lowers himself down further into the sheets. “Always fucking hated Bill.” 

“Bill is an asshole, but that wasn’t the point of my story,” you say as you slide in beside him and the covers fall over your frame. Phil’s like a space heater. He warms you faster than the sun in July, leaving you to melt into him as you continue. “So, as I was saying. Bill started complaining about how…” A yawn interrupts your statement. 

“Sorry,” Another one. Smaller, this time. “Started complaining about the catering choices Margie had picked out for lunch tomorrow and…” He lets you speak uninterrupted. Nearly. He coughs out one more comment about how much he hates Bill and how small his dick must be, but other than that you’re left to ramble as you please. 

You’re not sure when the lamp was turned off or when Phil’s breathing had gotten heavier or, even, when your eyes had shut, but the next time you’re conscious of what’s happening your husband has thrown his body almost completely over top of yours and your legs have intertwined themselves with his. 

“Phil,” you whisper. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he says, and you do, miraculously, without another thought of lousy your day had been. 

[femmmie]

I had no idea you liked star trek too, I just knew you for smosh and Dan and Phil. That's so cool!! Would you be willing to write a little ianthony star trek au? Or have you already? No problem if not, I know that's kinda vague. Love your blog btw :)

Yes I LOVE Star Trek! I literally had so much fun writing this, it got a bit out of control LOL! But yeah I hope you like it!!

The logical choice

Words: 2,436

Genre: action/adventure, a Star Trek episode, first kiss

Rating: teen or general audiences

Read on AO3:

"Captain's log, stardate ???[writer's note: I can't do math!]. What would have been a diplomatic mission to Vulcan, a completely safe route, turned out to become something quite different. Ian was going to let our starship T'hy'la be blessed, and we would join a Vulcan fleet to covertly inspect the edges of Federation space. But all of a sudden, we were violently sucked into a wormhole, and were spat out, smack dab in the middle of the Delta Quadrant."

Anthony paused. He looked out of the window of his suite. He'd read a lot about Captain Janeway's voyages through this quadrant, and her years long quest to get back home. Panic stirred deep within him. He shut his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths.

"We've been stranded here for a few days now. Chief Agnew, Ensign Bowe and their crew have been hard at work to repair the damage done by the violent yanking through space that T'hy'la has endured. Our deflector shields malfunctioned and structural integrity scraped by within an inch of collapsing. I truly believe that a bout of fate has saved us."

His communicator chimed. It was a benign sound, but it still made him jump.

"Captain, we've done all we can. Technically the ship works, but we lost a lot of deuterium. We repaired the injection subsystem, Tommy really outdid himself. But it's no use, we can't start with this little fuel."

"Thank you, Spencer," Anthony answered, trying to sound comforting. "You've done well. it may be time for us to try and reach out for help."

The door beeped.

"Come in."

"Captain," Ian strode into the room.

Anthony's Number One, and a Vulcan, Ian somehow always calmed Anthony down. And it was better, the closer they stood to each other.

"Number One, please tell me what you think of the situation?"

"We have done short- and long range scans, and have found no life-forms or ships. However," Ian raised one sharp eyebrow, "We did scan a gaseous nebula. It's all around us and could be the reason our sensors didn't pick anything up. Although it is not without risk, logic suggests we send out a distress signal."

"Agreed." Anthony sighed. Who knows what kind of aliens were out and about here, but they might as well try.

~

"Amanda, what's the matter?" Mister Topp, the ship's EMH, asked with kind, light-blue eyes.

"Shayne, I feel something big," she collapsed dramatically on a medical bed in the sickbay. "It's something I've never felt before, and you know I sense almost anything, being quarter Betazoid. "I- I don't know. It's not good, but also not evil. It's just... something infinite, almost. Like an ultimate power. It makes me dizzy."

"Well," Shayne smirked, "Courtney was just here, and her ego does tend to be infinitely big. I guess her Klingon side gives her the extra confidence." He sighed. "But she could be a bit nicer to me."

"Shayne," Trevor intervened. "You were flirting with her the entire time. She wasn't even here for a medical exam. She just checked in on us to see if everything was safe and you insisted she take three different blood tests! I'd be annoyed too," he laughed.

"I wish I could sense how you're feeling," Amanda beamed at Shayne. "But I can't sense a hologram. I do know how Courtney feels, though..." She winked at Shayne, who blushed.

"Amanda, it seems like you're back to normal. Please report back here if that changes again. Bye now!"

"Not without my hug," she teased.

"Why do Betazoids always want to hug!"

"I think it's just her," Trevor giggled.

"Get in here!" Amanda commanded. After the group hug, she went back to her Ship's counsellor's office.

Her communicator chimed.

"Hello commander Hecox," she smiled, as she sat down and crossed her legs over the couch, usually reserved for her patients.

"Counsellor Lehan-Canto. We need to talk."

~

Keith, the ship's Conn officer, observed the Bridge while captain Padilla was resting. He had never thought he'd be this far from home, but there he was, in the Delta Quadrant. Strangely, he wasn't worried. He looked at the beautiful multicolored nebula outside.

Suddenly, he got a transmission request.

"Captain, to the Bridge, we're being hailed!"

Not a moment later, Anthony walked in. "On screen," he commanded.

"WELL WELL WELL," a grinning, huffing alien said to them. "WHAT HAVE WE HERE!!! A NICE STARFLEET SHIP, NO LESS! "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SO FAR FROM HOME?"

"This is captain Anthony Padilla of the starship T'hy'la. I assume you received our distress call."

"WE SURE DID, RIGHT, GUYS?" the alien looked at two very beautiful and scantily-clothed people on each side of her.

"Oh yes, Angela, we sure did," one of them replied with a honey-sweet voice.

"YES, WE DID, CAPTAIN. LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF. I'M ANGELA, AND THESE ARE MY FRIENDS CHANSE AND ARASHA. And..." Angela lowered her voice menacingly, "you have invaded OUR space."

"We've been sucked into a wormhole against our will and are stranded here without deuterium. We could trade you for it, We have latinum on board. Don't Ferengi always like a good deal?

"HA! YOU THINK YOU KNOW THE FERENGI HUH! Yeah, we do always want a good deal. But I don't think you'll be able to give us one. Your starship is called T'hy'la? HA! What a weak Vulcan/human hybrid concept. Don't you know the Rules of Acquisition? Rule 21: Never place friendship above profit. So, my little FRIEND, why don't you give your ship to me, and I will send you on your way back to the wormhole?"

Anthony scoffed. "I'm sorry, but have you scanned our ship? We could easily defeat you."

"Well..." Angela smirked even wider, and scratched behind her enormous ear. "I guess I didn't make myself clear. If you DON'T give me your ship, you will be dealing with my friends. Not these idiots here," she gestured to Chanse and Arasha. "I mean them."

And in one moment, all hope left Anthony's soul: two large, square spaceships emerged. It was the Borg.

" HAHAHA! You have one hour to respond!"

Angela disconnected.

"Red Alert," Anthony commanded.

~

The sirens were wailing through the ship.

"Not Red Alert again? We just fixed up the entire ship!" Tommy threw up his hands in exasperation.

Spencer put his gloved hand on his shoulder. "I was really hoping we could go to the holodeck and play DnD again. But it's not in the cards for us this time."

"Sword and shield in hand," Tommy bumped his shoulder into Spencer.

"Saving the day, just like we do everyday at work!"

"Even though I never get a promotion!"

"You really should, Tommy."

They were play-fighting with their engineer gear, and seeing Spencer laugh and goof off, suddenly made Tommy realize something. He was in love with his boss.

"Hey, why'd you stop?" Spencer was still booping him with a pretend-sword.

"You're adorable."

"Dude. I know."

"I mean... I..."

"AB," Ian said, walking quickly past them.

"Did he make up a nickname for us?!" Tommy said, wide-eyed. "Do Vulcans do that?"

"I think Amanda has been teaching him to be more normal, I mean, better at communication. Not doing that is normal for a Vulcan, of course."

"Imagine them together in a room!" Tommy laughed. A Vulcan and a Betazoid, they couldn't be more opposite!"

"Well, if I can sense anything, it's that those two have some chemistry going on," Spencer said with a smug look on his face. "I mean, she calls everyone 'imzadi' but her voice is softer when she says it to Ian. Huh... But sorry, you were going to say something?"

"Oh..." Tommy blushed. "Nevermind..."

~

"Ian, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Amanda visited Ian's quarters. It was very clean and neat and indeed very Vulcan.

"Please, sit," Ian gestured to the one table in the room, with two small chairs.

They both sat down. Amanda couldn't help but feel attracted to Ian's stoic earnest. And he was cute, too...

"I heard you sensed a presence, ever since we've been stranded here."

"Yes! I have been, and it seems like it's getting stronger too! If that is even possible. It's like we're at the epicenter of something."

"I sense it too."

"You do?"

"Yes. We Vulcans might not show our emotions, but we feel a lot of things. And I have felt this once before. Amanda, we are in grave danger."

~

"Ia- Number One!" Anthony was so glad to see Ian as he walked onto the Bridge.

"We are very much outnumbered, captain," Ian said. "It would be logical to surrender."

Ian walked closer to Anthony. Anthony sighed in relief. Whatever would come next, he could bear it with Ian at his side.

"But I advice against it."

"What?"

"The Ferengi woman is the obvious culprit, luring ships here to loot and then let them be assimilated by the Borg. However... She is not the one in control here."

Ian and Anthony heard clapping behind them.

"Well done, commander Hecox," a woman with long black hair, dressed in all black, spoke.

"Who are you?" Anthony demanded.

"She is Q, the most powerful being in the universe."

"You know her, Ian?"

"I know her, from long ago. She called herself Olivia Sui then."

"And I kept my eye on you, Ian. I expected great things from you! And even though you are obviously the smartest one on this ship of idiots, you've become boring! You used to make me laugh, Ian..."

Anthony felt a sudden annoyance at this Q. Why was she so interested in his Number One?!

"What do you want, Q?"

"What do I want?! I want to laugh again, damnit! So," and she snapped her fingers, and the entire ship was gone. Instead, he, Ian and Amanda stood in an empty, white world. Angela, Arasha and Chanse were also there. "If you make me laugh first, I'll zap you straight home! But if not... then you're back at the mercy of Angela here."

Amanda, Anthony and Ian huddled together.

"So, is she an ex of yours or something?" Amanda whispered.

"We were betrothed once."

"What?!" Anthony fumed.

"Ha, your anger amuses me already, captain. But I'm not laughing just yet!"

Anthony looked straight at Q, and began to mime. Physical humor was his strong suit. He fell over, mimed that he was stuck, rolled over the ground... to no avail.

"You failed! Next!"

Angela walked forward.

"SO, HERE'S THE JOKE! TWO BARS OF LATINUM WALKED ACROSS THE STREET! AND ONE OF THEM SAID, LET ME WALK IN THE MIDDLE NOW"

"Elementary concept, expertly executed," Q said. "But not enough to make me laugh. NEXT!"

Amanda walked forward. She got really close to Q, and Anthony felt Ian tense up. He took his hand. Ian squeezed extremely hard. He probably forgot his Vulcan strength for a second.

Wait, did Ian care this much about Amanda? Were they- was Ian just dating everyone and Anthony didn't know it? He figured, he couldn't blame the girls. Ian was so handsome, so strong...

"I guess you don't know who I am," Amanda began. "I am the daughter of Deanna Troi and William Riker. That makes me one quarter Betazoid... and I sense that you don't want to laugh at all. You want to FEEL something. And I'll give it to you. I've reached a certain age, you know..." Amanda tip-toed her fingers up Q's arm.

"Give mommy a smooch!"

"Noo, no, get away from me!" Q took a few steps away.

"HA! THERE, YOU GIGGLED!"

"Did not!"

"I saw it! You laughed, Q!"

"Okay, fine, I did! But I'm not done just yet! I guess I will zap you and your stupid ship back home.... after.... THEY kiss."

"Who?"

"The captain and his Number One."

"What?" Ian and Anthony said in sync.

"Yeah, hahaha! That will really make my day! Don't tell me you haven't sensed it, Betazoid? They are all in."

Amanda looked down. She really liked Ian and he liked her too, but she knew that his heart belonged to his captain. On all their intergalactic adventures, Ian had saved Anthony so many times and vice versa, they had developed an unbreakable bond. They had never acted on it before, but now, apparently it was the only thing that would save them.

"So, you cooked up this whole charade, just to get them to kiss?"

"What? It's not a charade, I'm eternally bored, I had to think of something!"

Q walked up to Ian and Anthony. "Now, do the thing," she said, pressing her two index fingers together.

Ian looked at Anthony. The intense warmth of his brown eyes overwhelmed the Vulcan. He would normally never show it, in fact he had never given Anthony a clue that he was interested. But he was. All the times he had seen Anthony change clothes, when Anthony had hugged him after they were safe from danger, he had never reciprocated. But now, he had no choice.

"It's only logical that we do this. But I have to confess, Anthony... I've been longing for a kiss from you for an eternity. And I need to know if you're okay with it now."

Anthony blushed deeply. Was Ian just saying this because of the situation? Why did he make it more dramatic than it needed to be? "Ian... Have you really? I've loved you for such a long time... And I've also always wanted an opportunity to kiss you. But I never dared, I never thought it was appropriate, seeing as I'm your captain and all."

"Yes, you acted logically as well."

"Ian..."

Anthony took Ian's chin between his fingers and pushed it upwards.

"Excellent!" Q said, but they didn't hear her.

"Anthony..." Anthony saw a wild fire ignite between Ian's eyes. It was scary but Anthony wasn't afraid. He pressed his lips agains Ian's.

Ian growled and kissed him back, grabbing on Anthony's curls. Anthony couldn't believe the feeling. It was scorching hot, but so, so comfortable. He wanted to stay like this forever.

When he opened his eyes, they were back on the T'hy'la and back in the Alpha Quadrant.

"Are you okay, captain?"

Anthony looked at Ian. He could cry. Nobody remembered anything, except for him.

"I- I need to take a break..."

He walked off the bridge. As if by magic, Amanda was waiting for him there.

"Captain, I sensed your emotions, they quickly heightened. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I think that's best, Counsellor."

"Come on, I'll take you to my office."