#don’t mind me just shitposting after midnight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamcatcherrs · 4 years ago

Note

can u do streamers with a plus size reader? ty i love ur fics ♡

+ reminder! every body type is beautiful in its own way, and I’m sure that all of the mcyts would want to date a person of any size! hope you enjoy<3

++ I also added a couple of insecurities that are common for a lot of people cause I felt like it ^-^

dating a plus size reader; mcyt x reader

dream:

dream is an absolute softie for you

he will literally carry you anywhere you go

even if you insist for him not to

he just lifts you up into his arms and runs off with you

as I’ve mentioned before, he loves squishy places of the body

especially the booty ;)

so expect a lot of grabbing whenever he’s near you (with your consent, of course)

always tells you how amazing you look

even if you’re only wearing sweatpants and a basic tee and feel like absolute shit

and he would definitely have you pose for pictures of his merch

georgenotfound:

he loves resting his head on you

uses your chest as his personal pillow

he thinks it’s absolutely crazy how you’re able to make every outfit look good

like, you could wear a plastic bag and still look like a model to him

you two go out to eat fast food at the most random times

some days midnight, some days at 5am

admires your confidence

sapnap:

THIGHS THIGHS THIGHS

he loves your thighs sooo much and always has his hands (or eyes) on them

he almost holds your thigh more than your hand

and he just thinks you’re so gorgeous and can’t believe he can call you his

but when he finds out you don’t think so, his mind is blown

like... what?

are you blind????

he tells you how “you’re so fucking hot” every day until you start thinking so yourself

badboyhalo:

loves baking cakes with you

and makes sure you’re always well fed

he absolutely adores your stretch marks!

he loves just tracing his fingers over the lines

following them around with his fingertips

and gets very focused about it to a point where he stops listening to you talk

he makes sure you never feel down about something as natural as stretch marks

and makes sure to kiss every place you're insecure about

technoblade:

techno literally doesn't care what you look like

he only cares if you're happy, cause he really hates seeing you sad

especially when he can't do anything about it

so when he catches you one day looking at yourself in the mirror with a look of disgust

his heart crumbles in his chest

sits you down to talk about it

and gets more touchy afterwards along with spurring out compliments more often

wilbur soot:

wilby is also a big sucker for thighs

he’s not super grabby, but he gets his point across;

that he absolutely loves every part of your body

to be honest, like techno, I see wilbur as someone who literally does not care what you look like

if he likes you, he’ll love the way you look either way

he is very appreciative of soft, fleshy parts of your body

that he can just cling onto when he wants

jschlatt:

fuck, does schlatt love to have you on his lap

like he might not come across as someone who’s cuddly

but I’m telling you

he is super cuddly

he just wants someone to hold and to be held by

he needs that physical touch and he just can't seem to keep his hands off of you

he’ll tell you “you look so stupid right now”, laugh, and then give you a big ol’ bear hug

jokes aside, he makes sure you know just how dizzyingly beautiful you look 24/7

corpse husband:

fishnets, legs, fishnets, legs

even if you don't like wearing fishnets, he’s just all; legs, grab, thighs, squish

no but seriously he loves your legs so much

they just catch his attention and immediately make him go soft

without you doing anything you’ll just hear him giggle at you

and then realise he’d been looking at you for a hot minute, just taking in how absolutely stunning you look

and he doesn't fail to let you know that :)

karl jacobs:

like wilbur, I think he just genuinely doesn't care and loves you regardless of what you look like

we all know that karl’s way of showing affection is through touch

so he loves cuddling up to you

using your chest as a pillow and engulfing you in his arms

and he’ll be whining within a second if you even a much as try to move away from him

something he doesn't realise he does, but you do, is that he will just randomly hold on tight to a certain part of your body

even if you're just talking

his hands will be on you without him even noticing

and it’s really cute

skeppy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I think that skeppy really likes the way skirts look on you

or tight-fitting jeans

anything that compliments your body, really

though he does like the way you look without any clothes on

anyways, he fucking loves your body so much

and any person who thinks differently is not his friend

he’s always hugging you

or brushing his knuckles over your arms lovingly

small touches are his forté

fundy:

he can never seem to keep his eyes off of you

no matter how hard he tries, you’re just too gorgeous

isn’t the touchiest of the boys, but when he’s in the need for some physical touch, he’s very obvious about it

will start off by holding your hand

and then maybe move onto hugging you from behind

comes off pretty clingy once he needs that love and affection

he just loves touching you; maybe cause your skin is soft? he’ll never tell you (it’s his little secret)

quackity:

MMMME GUSTAAA

he looooooves loves loves how, and I quote, “thicc you are”

and he gets so clingy, too

makes grabby hands at you if he needs to to catch your attention

and definitely, without a doubt, uses your chest as his personal pillow

he’s also a squisher

your thigh’s kinda become his little stress toy

alex will fully commit to being a complete simp for you - he does not care at this point

can get blushy sometimes when he catches himself looking at you for too long

punz:

if you thought that sapnap would be wild when it comes to thighs, let me introduce you to this man

luke is a massive sucker for some thick thighs

and don't even get me started on the flesh on your hips

he lowkey has an addiction to constantly keeping his hands on there, but it’s not like you mind

it’s like his hands are glued onto you sometimes

holding on tightly or gently, doesn't matter

and sometimes he’ll even get lost in the way his fingers dig into your skin

can't fathom the fact that you're all his

awesamdude:

sam is literally the cutest🥺

gives you compliments all the time

and literally always has a hand on you to gently caress your skin

and he is always gentle with his touches

and I mean always

drawing circles onto your back or arm using his thumb

placing small kisses on your temple

he always posts pictures of you on his instagram and twitter

has like one or two pictures of himself, and the rest are of you :]

slimecicle:

literally smothers you with love and affection

he loves the little dents in your thighs from cellulite

finds it sooo attractive

loves to trace his fingers over the dents

notices immediately if there are changes in your eating habits

and will confront you the second he notices cause he can't bare the thought of you eating less than usual

makes sure it never happens again

eret:

they have a special seat for you right on his lap

if you were comfortable with it she’d love for you to sit with them in his streams

SHOWERS you with compliments

constantly

and leaves trails of kisses everywhere

even if you whine about it being too much or distracting you

he ignores it and continues

can't believe she’s ended up with such a god/dess as you

jack manifold:

jack was completely shocked when he found out you were insecure about your body

what was there to be insecure about?

to his eyes you were completely perfect, and he just couldn’t understand how… you couldn’t see that?

makes sure you now how absolutely stunning you are

can't help but to show you off to everyone (he is a leo after all)

and also let’s his hands roam all over you - with your consent, of course!

adores you so much

tommy:

tommy had seriously never thought of it before you’d said that you didn’t want a piece of cake after he asked

and he goes; why?????

and you’re like; I shouldn't eat it

and he’s even more ???

doesn't know what why or when you decided you “shouldn't” do something as normal as eating

it’s so very obvious how soft he is for you when it’s just the two of you

and even succumbs to his soft side in front of others if he gets too caught up in your beauty

tubbo:

tubbo just… doesn't care

like, at all

but of course he notices the absolute beauty of you, and will simp for you

doesn't shower you with compliments, but gives subtle signs

a common one is squeezing your hand

or calling you cute or adorable

brushing a strand of hair out of your face

simplicity is his thing

ranboo:

lots of hugsss

unintentionally squeezes too hard so you have to tap his shoulder

and he just giggles

he likes resting his head on practically any part of your body

cause you're so comfy

wants to constantly fondle you in his arms

he’s become so used to clinging to you, it’s just by instinct at this point

____________________________________

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50 @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets @vernon-dursley @childhoodgrunge @fivxss @hexagonclash @crazyjuls12 @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy @aiofheavenandhell @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson @ineedtogetoutofhere @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys @squiddyyyy @c0wc0ww @animeweeb019284 @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures @trappedchest @punzrights @trashgremlin36 @cyberrsoot @elebeleb @k3nn3dis-crap @karlshoodies @rascal-in-banishment @heartbroken-writer @bartok-the-magnificent @ihavenoideashelp @goldiefox1 @bethybop @helluhru @venuzblr @pha5ed5tar50 @cscooop @bethybop @lunareclipse-13 @http-strawberryy

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

Text

AUTHOR REVEAL of the JATP ROUND 2: FLUFF FICS!

The Tropes:

Exes

Time Loop AU

Camp Counselors

Prank Wars

————

Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by nik_knows_nothing

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke’s fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he’s at least 78% sure that the time loop isn’t a direct result of Reggie’s pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he’s not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author’s Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie] by bi_magic

Summary: Last summer didn’t end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she’s been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie] by @americanhoney913

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don’t know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here’s to you, here’s to me

Over the rafters and we’re free

— Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @screamin-amuseum

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @sunsetcurbed

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @malecacidd

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie] by @comeonpeters

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn’t get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn’t go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose] by @wr0temyway0ut

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re… not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by hufflebibin

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared “Prank Day.”

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @willexxmercer

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she’s stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone… except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke] by @williexmercer

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

the play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @madeline-kahn

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he’s stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @aroacethetic-shitpost

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @tonightthestarsalign

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @the-most-beautiful-broom

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @tmp-jatp

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

It’s the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn’t know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @kybee1497

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

————

All the Winners can be found here.

We hope you enjoy these fics from our fabulous Fantoms! Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show them some love! And don’t forget, if you missed the initial writing deadline you can still submit your fics to our Non-Anon Collection at any time! Thank you all so much for participating this round! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to post about your fics, create artwork for it, if you like, and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us for Round 3! The prompt drops at Midnight tonight!

#troped: jatp #round 2: fluff #author reveal #jatp fanfiction

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annabethy · 4 years ago

Note

Internet crush au i love the thought that both percy and annabeth try to subtly flirt with each other whist being an ocean apart on youtube (and all of they’re followers know they’re simps) idk just a thought for if you’re still wanting prompts ❤️❤️

oceans apart: percabeth internet crush au

“Not again.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, pointedly sipping her cup of coffee and ignoring Piper’s whine for attention.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Annabeth lies.

“Oh, so you’re not sparking up an online romance with the infamous Percy Jackson?”

Annabeth hums, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I am merely responding to his message.”

“Over twitter. In front of millions of people.”

Annabeth snorts, staring at the phone in hand. It was true, really. Somehow, Annabeth had managed to gain quite a big following on youtube during her years spent studying at Oxford, and at some point, a guy from UCLA took an interest in her. It had been pretty hilarious, especially to the millions of people watching her every move, and she just hadn’t been able to put a stop to the online flirting, which is precisely why she was flirting with a man that was oceans apart from her.

“You’re never even met this man,” Piper points out.

“That’s what makes it fun,” Annabeth says. “An online romance. Who doesn’t love it?”

“I’m not saying no one loves it because this is the best thing to happen in all of the twenty-first century, but he’s in California, and you’re not.”

“It’s all fun and games,” Annabeth says.

“Yeah, right.”

Annabeth blinks. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

“You two are practically in love with each other.”

Annabeth flushes. “Are not.”

“What are you typing then?”

Annabeth looks down at the thread being sent back and forth between the two popular youtubers. By this point, their entire conversation was being filled with hundreds of thousands of people having mental breakdowns, thinking the two were actually going to get together.

Not that she would mind that. No, she hadn’t seen him in person, but they’re practically best friends, and he’s a huge sweetheart.

“Nothing.”

“Lies,” Piper says, snatching the phone. “Percy tweeted ‘honey, I think you and I should get married.’”

“He’s kidding.”

“You responded, ‘come to the UK and I’ll consider it.’”

“It’s all just some good-natured fun.”

“He responded, ‘give me a kiss?’ and you said, ‘show up alive, and then we’ll see.’”

Annabeth snickers, snatching her phone back. “You’re reading too far into this.”

“No, I’m not. You two are just in love with each other.”

“You are incorrect, actually.”

Piper raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? What about last week when he uploaded the video that was literally spent listing off the reasons you should marry him?”

“Publicity stunt. It got millions of views.”

“You’re in love with him.”

Annabeth pinches her fingers. “Only a little bit, but no one has to know.”

“Oh, honey, everyone knows.”

A part of her floods with warmth. Ever since he’d first left a comment on one of her videos, their friendship had blossomed. It was just what they did — uploading videos just to tease one another and accept marriage proposals. He’s probably proposed five times by this point, and Annabeth has jokingly accepted five times.

They were the unofficially-official couple as people like to put it, and it was a lovely arrangement in her opinion.

Annabeth’s phone vibrates in her hand, and when she looks down, she sees Percy telling her, bought a plane ticket. on my way babe.

“Oh god,” Piper groans, looking over Annabeth’s shoulder as another smile breaks out across Annabeth’s face. “You two disgust me.”

“That’s funny, considering you admitted that you were our biggest shipper.”

Piper gasps. “Who told you?”

“Jason told Percy who told me.”

“Betrayal.”

“Precisely.” Annabeth hums. “We should be going soon. I have to get another video up in two days and you promised you’d help me.”

“What is it this time? Writing the perfect love letter to Percy?”

“Making a shrine to Percy,” Annabeth corrects.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Annabeth says. “It was his idea.”

“Of course it was,” Piper mutters, but she’s already scooting her chair away from the table of the café and standing up. “Let’s get going then, you booger.”

The walk back to their shared apartment was filled with Piper’s rants about a certain two careless youtubers, and the video Annabeth dragged Piper to film was no different. All things considered though, it went quite well. It might as well be a shitpost, but it was interesting enough and would have to suffice.

The video did take a lot longer to film than expected, so by the time Annabeth was finally ready to go on with the day, it was almost midnight.

“This sucks,” Annabeth says, peeking out the window at the dark sky.

“It’s no big deal.” Piper stretches and yawns, and Annabeth thinks she may fall asleep right there. “London never sleeps so we can still go out.”

“You’re practically drooling already.”

“We have things to do. People to see.”

Annabeth scrunches her brows. “Who?”

“People,” Piper says ominously. As she sits up, she looks Annabeth up and down before shrugging, which doesn’t do much to help her confidence. “You look good enough. Let’s go.”

Piper barely gives Annabeth time to process what was happening before she was being dragged out the door. Realistically, Piper did give her like five minutes to grab a few things, but it felt like no time at all because Piper refused to say anything besides they were meeting up with some friends at a cozy diner in the middle of the city.

The walk there was a bit chilly, so as Annabeth tightens her long black peacoat around her body, she glances at Piper out of the corner of her eye.

“So,” Annabeth says, sniffling and rubbing her nose to soothe the sharp bite of wind. “Would you mind telling me why we’re heading to the city? We never go out late. That’s, like, our motto.”

“You looked cute today, and it would be a shame to waste that by just staying in.” Piper grabs Annabeth’s hand and laces their fingers together to swing their arms back and forth. “I must say I’m loving the white sweater and black jeans. My fashion is rubbing off on you.”

“What fashion?”

“I hate you.”

By the time they finally reach the diner, Annabeth’s fingers and toes are numb, but the view was definitely worth it. Annabeth’s surprised she hadn’t ever seen this place before after having lived here for almost four years, but it’s no surprise Piper knew of it. There were fairy lights strewn up around the outer portion of the restaurant, and there was gentle music flowing through the air. Even though it was cold, the image of this place was a drastic difference, and it melted the aching in her bones.

Piper leads Annabeth to a table outside, and Annabeth is hardly surprised to see Jason waiting for them. He stands up to give each of the girls a quick hug, before they all settle into their respective seats.

“You brought me here to be a third wheel? Is that what this is?” Annabeth says playfully as she sits.

“You and I both know that I’m the real third wheel here,” Jason says kindly. “But maybe it’s Piper, because she’s the only one here who doesn’t make videos.”

“I don’t need to because I was lucky enough to have my best friend introduce me to another youtuber,” Piper says.

“You should be thanking me for your relationship,” Annabeth tells the two of them. “Without me, you would’ve never found the love of your life.”

Jason’s eyes gleam. “And how about you? Have you found the love of your life?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“I saw the messages between you and Percy earlier,” Jason says. “It was a beautiful proposal, really.”

“I try.”

“When you meet him, you should consider eloping.”

“That’s if I meet him,” Annabeth corrects.

“Of course. My apologies.” Jason grins, and Annabeth is slightly unnerved. “You would make a cute couple.”

“How so?”

“You two are the biggest simps for each other,” Jason says.

“Told you so,” Piper chimes in.

“I’m going to leave if you two brought me here just to insult me.” Annabeth looks beside herself and her eyes focus on the empty chair. “Are we waiting for someone else?”

“I invited a friend, but I’m not sure where he is,” Jason says. “They must be running late.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if you’d know them,” he dismisses.

Piper and Jason begin talking again, but Annabeth tunes them out. If she was going to be forced to sit with stranger while Piper and Jason snogged in front of them, then she would be severely unhappy.

Annabeth doesn’t know what to expect, but she does know that she should be worried when Piper and Jason share a conspicuous glance with each other before heading off to the bar, under the excuse of getting them some drinks.

Annabeth groans, lacing her hands together on the table in front of her. She was definitely starting to regret this decision of joining Piper on her midnight adventure, not that it was much of a decision at all. She was dragged alongside her, and if she could go back in time, she would probably end up pushing Piper off a bridge to stop this utter boredom from taking over.

All things considered though, it’s not too terrible. She might be able to drink the night away and forget all this happened, and—

“Babe!”

Annabeth’s head snaps up because of the voice. It was a voice she’d recognize anywhere.

She whirls around in her chair, and right there, standing in all his glory, was Percy Jackson.

Percy holds his arms out as he approaches her, and Annabeth laughs as she stumbles up to give him a crushing hug. They stay like that for a few seconds, and it feels like it should be awkward because they’d never actually met before, but it just feels like a piece of a puzzle if fitting into place.

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth asks, grinning as she pulls away and tilts her chin to look up at him. From here, he’s a lot taller than she expected, and he looks so much better in person than on camera, which says a lot.

“I’m here for our wedding!” Percy smiles cheekily, pulling her in for another quick hug before stepping back and just looking at her. She feels warm and fuzzy under his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

“Of course I haven’t,” she says, playing along. “But why are you really here?”

“I wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend.”

Annabeth bites her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. “I don’t recall agreeing to this.”

“You agreed to marry me, so I think that means we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but we both know we were messing around.”

Percy clicks his teeth, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t know. You did respond when I called you babe, so…”

“I guess I did.” Annabeth looks over at where Piper and Jason had disappeared off to. They were taking their sweet time, and suddenly Annabeth realized that it was for a reason, and that they knew all along. She doesn’t know whether to thank them or punch them. “It looks like they’re not coming back anytime soon.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That might be because I asked them to let me have you all to myself for a while.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did.” Percy stares at her for a while, and she stares back. It feels like she’s known him for all of her life, and she never wants this moment to end. So long talking over the phone and sending messages through videos, and they were finally alone, just the two of them, and it was so much better than she could’ve imagined.

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Annabeth admits as Percy takes a step closer, like he’s done it a million times. Soon, his face is inches away from hers.

“I have an idea,” Percy tells her quietly, his green eyes vibrant in the dim lighting of the outdoor patio.

“And what’s that?”

“Go on a date with me.”

Annabeth tilts her head, lips lifting in a coy smile. “I thought we were already engaged?”

“I’m still working towards that kiss,” he says, and his smile is blinding.

A beat skips, and she can’t help herself, and then—

“Who says you have to wait?”

Annabeth doesn’t know what prompts her to step forwards, but she does anyways, and her stomach flutters when he does the same. There was just something about this situation that seems so familiar, and she trusts him, probably more than she should. But this was Percy, and she knew him. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Percy’s hands go to cup her face, his fingers gently tracing over her skin, cold in the London winter, and there is a blazing heat in her body. For a second, they look into each other’s eyes, and then both of their eyes are fluttering shut as Percy brings her face to his and kisses her sweetly.

It’s slow and gentle, and somehow, she can see a future with them. This has been building up since she first saw his kind words on her video, and it was strengthened through their twitter declarations of love and youtube proposals. She shouldn’t feel like this, but she does, and that’s okay.

He pulls away but his hands stay in place. His smile is so breathtaking, and it fits so well with the delicate snowflakes that started falling and the pretty glow of the fairy lights.

“What do you say?” Percy asks. “I’ll take you on the date of your life.”

“And then you’ll marry me?”

“What’s a date if it doesn’t end in marriage?”

Annabeth’s lips twitch up, and she brushes a strand of her blowing hair behind her ear. She really liked him, and she just knew that it would be alright. He was in Los Angeles and she was in London, and they were oceans apart, but it would be okay.

“I’m holding you to that,” she says, and so he takes her hand, and leads her on the date of a lifetime.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #percy and annabeth #asks #anon #my writing

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witchy-lili · 4 years ago

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Sander Sides Coffeeshop AU! Part 2

Well I didn’t expect part one to get that much attention..

Thank you all :) Trigger warning : Hum, alcohol ? I guess ? tell me if I have to put something in there !

The first one was originally just a simple shitpost, but seeing this positivity encouraged me to write more ! So have that ! Oh and, use this song for a certain part of the chapter. Enjoy~

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Damn was this a tiring day for the owner. Logan closed the cafe’s door after the last customer, not even turning the key, before dropping down on one of the angle sofas, sighing loudly. He lifted his rectangle glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired, but now wasn’t the time to sleep.

The cafe, as much as he loved it, wasn’t enough income to maintain a stable life. He wasn’t in debt, lord knows how much he hated seeking help from others. “I always counted on myself, why change now ?”. The day was not the only time he was behind a counter. After closing his eyes for a few seconds, he stood up and went to look in his bag and looked at the hour on his phone. Eleven twenty four pm. It started at one am. He had enough time to freshen up. And so he went out, his blazer on his shoulder walking under the moonlight after putting the key in his pocket.

Home sweet and dearly home. It wasn’t much, just a simple black and white apartment with hints of deep navy blue. Hanging his blazer on the hook present on the back of his door. A soft creature came, rubbing against his legs, calmly purring.

-Well hello Plato..

The cat answered with a soft meow as Logan gently patted his fluffy cream fur which composed the majority of his body. The face, tip of the tail and paws being darker, almost black, but the cherry on top was the two icey sapphires eyes, as cold as his master’s. Only the hue was different, Lo’ having more greyish eyes. Speaking of the devil, he walked up to the living room connected kitchen, taking out a can of cat food to pour it into one of his little fuff ball’s bowl then filling the second one with water.

-There you go, you cuddle head.

Question remained, why would someone who struggled with money have a pet ?

Logan was always in control, trying his best to think about the most logical and brainey solution to a problem or way to improve his life, but even he could not just walk away from a crying kitten under the rain. He remembered the day. He was still a college student, his life was a wreck, a twelve sided Rubik’s cube with the colors constantly changing every single time he moved them. It was the same period he decided to close himself off and focus on school work but even he couldn't stay unmoved by a crying dirty kitten under the rain.

He smiled thinking about it again, all the nights worrying about Plato, putting him in his sweater while he was studying just to keep him by his side, all the books he read to learn how to properly take care of a cat, all the scratches he got, but also all the kisses and head rubs. Logan absentmindedly looked at the clock. Almost midnight.

-Shit.

Who thought he could lose himself thinking about how much he loved his companion ? Now he had to be fast. He’d usually take the time to enjoy the warm water on his skin, usually hugging himself in the process, trying to emulate the feeling of a long lost embrace, but now it was pretty late. He needed to go. Where ? Well his side job. Logan quickly dried his dark chestnut hair before putting on an elegant uniform. A white shirt buttoned to the top under a navy vest and a pair of jeans. Simple but efficient. Just like he always did.

The dark haired man arrived in front of a bar’s backdoor. Just on time after a really painful sprint considering he wasn’t the athletic type. He entered and went to the changing rooms, just to put down his bag and finally go to work. That was the program, but apparently the strawberry blonde seemingly pissed man bursting in. Only a thought crossed Logan’s mind “Oh for fuck’s sake.”.

-Oh my god Lo’ you’re here i thought i’d never see the light of day !

-..Pretty normal considering it’s past one am. -Now calm down. i’ll make you a quick drink and look for your gloves, your makeup is perfect. Just go sit down.

He walked towards him clutching his arms, the barista cringed at the contact but kept a straight face before finally realising that his friend was in a long cherry red all sparkly dress and same colored heels.

-You got a representation tonight Roman ?

-Yes and it’s an ever-loving catastrophe ! I can’t close this fucking -but amazing- dress by myself, i don’t know where my gloves are and i start in five minutes ! Jesus, am i sweating ? Am i sweaty ? Is my makeup dripping ?

The usual scenario, Logan sighed before kindly pushing his friend away and turning him to, first of all, close the dress, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach the end. Roman was already a bit taller than him, but with those heels, phew, how could he even walk in these ?

Such a drama queen. Literally and mockingly. He tapped the performer on the back before straight up going to his dressing room, the gloves were just here, sitting on the edge of the mirror. Pretty sure Roman missed them because of his stress. He then went to the bar, discreetly pouring him a bottom of whisky and coming back with the two items. Blondie jumped on his heels to hug him again, making his poor friend spread his arms to avoid damaging the gloves or spilling the drink before giving them after the embrace.

-You are a lifesaver you nerdy coffee man !

-Don’t mention it. I have to get working, good luck.

Finally. Putting on a black apron, he came behind the bar and started serving the clients. Tonight was going to be busy. Why ? Well, Roman was performing, his angelic sultry voice brought everyone in. The lights dimmed in the club, only the stage was illuminated. The singer walked in, projectors reflecting against his strass covered dress and gloves. Claps and whistles welcomed his grand entrance as he took the microphone, glazing over the room. Logan gave him a nod and a thumbs up to encourage him. The instrumental started to play.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LqbV36OhtQ&ab_channel=CalebHyles

Where have you been? Been searching all along Came facing twilight on and on Without a clueWithout a sign Without grasping yet The real question to be asked Where have I been?

The tone always sent chills down Logan’s spine. He often heard him sing, but he could never not be surprised by his talent. He forgot himself, slowly breathing, calmed by the jazzy tone of the song. Forgot himself so much that he didn’t notice the new customer sitting at the bar and calling him for the last few seconds. The barista shook his head and turned, starting his usual pitch… -Sorry for that. What can i… ...only to be met with the amber gaze of a familiar face. The man of this morning. What was his name again ? Janice ? Janelle ? Jamil ? Logan’s eyes became cold and stern again, along with his voice. -..serve you. -Looks like i was right. You’re not as boring as you seem to be. -Do you want to drink something ? I have other clients. The man in the melon hat turned his head left and right with a smirk. He was the only one sitting at the counter. -A Snakebite, if you know how to make it right. Logan raised a surprised eyebrow. It was literally two ingredients. He was clearly mocking him. Without a word, he took the honey flavored whiskey and lime juice and put them in the shaker with some ice before energetically, well,shaking it and straining it in a shot glass, putting it in front of the snide individual then turning back to look at his friend. -Delightfull isn’t it ? I’ve rarely heard such a sultry and heavenly voice at the same time. -Well, it is Roman. They looked at each other for less than half a second before having their attention taken by the singer. Roman got compliments and flowers thrown at him at the end of his performance, and after some quick talk with fans, he sat down at the bar, sighing happily. -Damn that felt good ! Sooooo~, how are my two favorite boys doing ? Logan seemed surprised and pointed the curious man.

-You know him ?! -Yeah of course you dummy dumb ! I was the one who gave him your cafe’s address ! Ain’t he the loveliest ? -My my, thank you Romie, you’re going to make me blush. His eyes were still on Logan, still mocking him, he could have sworn even seeing this snake of a man quickly stick out his tongue to taunt him. Well. Looks like this was going to be a long night.

--------------------------------------------------------------- Surprise surprise ! You probably realized by now that I was really inspired by the talented Caleb Hyles with his “Beneath the mask” cover for this song. I just love the atmosphere. Hope you lovelies enjoyed this piece of writing !

#sandersides #sander sides #sanders side fic #coffeshopau #coffee shop au #logan sanders #logan #roman sanders #roman #sides in dresses #humanau #sander sides human au #sandersidesau #sander side au #janus #sander side deceit #deceit #loceit

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maiaofmischief · 4 years ago

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Ask Meme

Thank you for the tag, @zeldabard!

why’d you choose your url? Maia, as in the god-like beings from LOTR/Silmarillion, and of Mischief, because I enjoy causing harmless mischief. So, God of Mischief, essentially.

any side blogs? Yes, quite a few honestly. In the little page here there is a full list. However the ones that are active (and not just defunct rp/fan blogs from when that was a thing that I still occasionally post things on out of nostalgia) are:

Mischievious Midnight, my Halloween/autumn blog

Winter Wonder Mischief, my Winter/holiday blog

Mischievious Adventures, my d&d blog

how long have you been on tumblr? Since April of 2012. Yikes, that’s almost 10 years.

do you have a queue tag? I do not. Generally, almost everything that you see on my blog is something I’ve queued. There are exceptions (usually new posts that I make tend to be posted as soon as I finish them, or if there are a ton of posts at once that’s me blogging live) but I feel like it would be weird if I started doing it now after so long of not having one.

why did you start your blog? hmm. Its been a long time, but there was a blog I had stumbled across that was doing some rp-esque posts (like workplace memos or something) that I liked enough that I wanted to know when they posted new things and beyond that I found all sorts of things to keep my interest and make me want to stay.

why did you choose your icon? The current one is me in cosplay as Revan. I was pretty damn proud of my costume (and still am, honestly, even if I’d more or less redo the whole thing if I ever was doing Revan again) since I made it with literally no help out of craft foam. It really doesn’t look like it was as cheap as it was to make. Eventually, when I have a cosplay I’m more proud of than that, I’ll probably update my icon.

what’s your post with the most notes? That I’ve posted? Probably this one.

how many followers do you have? 194

how many people do you follow? 974, which is both a lot and not a lot, given a lot of them are seasonal blogs or post only very rarely.

have you ever made a shitpost? There are some random ass musings on there that could qualify, but nothing specific comes to mind.

how often do you use tumblr? I check it in the morning and before bed. If I’m having a bad day or a boring day, I’ll probably check it more than that to distract myself.

did you have a funny argument with a blog once? No, I tend not to argue on here.

how do you feel about reblog bait? I hate them, if the general post was good but someone tacked that on in a later reblog, I’ll go back to the source to find one that doesn’t have that garbage on it. If I can’t find one without (like if it is in the original post) I won’t reblog it even if I agree with the general sentiment. I don’t like anyone telling me what I have to do and I like even less the ones that have some sort of scare tactic associated with it. I’m immune to your shitty chain letters, internet, I’ve been getting them in one form or another (email back in the day, on here now) and I’m never going to give into your assholishness.

do you like tag games? Love them. They are a lot of fun. It might take a day or so to answer them (since I tend to do them on my actual computer versus mobile) but I enjoy them a lot.

which one of your moots do you think is tumblr famous? Honestly, couldn’t tell you. Most likely it’d be someone I least suspect. (Also, I’ve never heard the term ‘moots’ to describe mutals before... when did that start? I feel old now.)

do you have a crush on one of your moots? Well, I’m dating one of them... so... does that count?

I’m tagging: @kamenriderblaze, @sirofchaos, @themegnificentmage, @xander-ereinion, @ageless-aislynn, @gizmo1022, @tinx-methinks, and anyone else who would want to do it!

#tag game

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poptod · 5 years ago

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Baisemain

Description: Your dead body is dressed up in ancient Mesopotamian clothing, and hidden in the Museum of Natural History. What your murderer doesn’t know is that you’re about to come to life, every night, for as long as your skeleton exists.

Notes: So this is just a quick blurb (and basically a shitpost) about this idea of a murder victim’s body being held in the Museum of Natural History. It’s not specifically Ahk x Reader but there’s a bit at the end that’s pretty flirty. I suppose I could write more, but I don’t know if I really wanna do that. I promise I’ll come up with something new and actually good soon!

Word Count: 1.9k

What comes in death is… nothing. There is no you, no consciousness going by your name, and there is no reality where you exist. Not anymore. You hold no anger towards the cause of your death, but only because you simply can’t, not when there’s no mind to store it in. If you were still alive, still holding a consciousness, you’d probably be rather annoyed - you’re not a cynical person but you’re not a saint, either.

So, there is a time on earth in which you are not a thought, not a tangible thing, and all sense of who you are is subject to the tide of the wind - the idea of you exists, in abstract form, only the image of what you are in other peoples minds. It’s rather blissful, nonexistence; quiet, but not lonely, and peaceful in every way existence cannot be. For one point in time it is blissfully quiet, blissfully dark and nothing, till a bright light sparks, and your consciousness comes back to being.

There’s a light shining in your face, fluorescent and painfully bright as your eyes barely open. Squinting, you try to see through the brightness, taking a minute or so to adjust. Around you is darkness - the only light in the room is the one directly above you, and you’re lying on top of a table that is suspiciously cold. With a groan you sit up, fully taking in where you are, and what in the hell could be happening.

A thousand different solutions, none of them right, ran through your head. Perhaps this is a hospital, you thought, incorrectly, followed by, no, this is too empty. Perhaps I am in a morgue of sorts, which was also wrong. There’s a distinct smell, not especially rancid but certainly not a nice smell, and the room is filled with it. Without word or grunt you slip off the table, and the clacking on your feet is odd - not right for being shoeless and not right for the sneakers you usually wear.

It’s only then that you notice you’re not wearing your normal clothes, or anything that could be considered normal. Long cloth drapes from your shoulders and hips, colorful and softer than anything you own - nothing that belongs to you, no wallet or keys or I.D. are in your pockets, which are sizable. A sort of shawl covers your chest, while a long skirt tied somewhere around your shoulders or waist (it’s all so tight and confusing) covers you from waist to ankle. If you had to guess, you’d place the origin of the style and cloth somewhere in the Middle East, which would be the one thought so far that was right.

The only appropriate course of action, you decide, is to explore, and try to piece together what exactly was happening. So, trying to keep your clothing up (which is an easier task than you think it is, it’s very well made and knotted), you leave the cold examination table, and wander through empty halls.

A good amount of time passes before you hear faint music coming from above you. Someone’s playing ABBA, you recognize that in the least, and you climb up several flights of stairs in hopes of finding some hint of life. As you get slowly closer, the thumping of hundreds of feet begins, then the shouts, and you realize that there’s not just one person playing ABBA, it’s an entire party.

Maybe someone’s having an office party, you think to yourself, back on the course of thinking wrong things. When you reach the final door, you’re only aware it’s the final door by the impossibly loud music, and the vibrating of the door handle when you grasp it. Anxiously you turn, your nerves flooding your hand till it tingled with excitement - well, that or fear, and you preferred to be excited. Though, if you knew exactly what you were getting excited for, you might’ve not been so excited in the first place.

In the center of the room is a very familiar globe, spinning and still glowing even though it’s clearly nighttime outside. Every exhibit you ever remember seeing is dancing, playing games, or talking with one another, and you can feel your breath leave your body - perhaps you weren’t really alive again, but you can still feel your heartbeat. In fact, your heartbeat is about the only thing you can still feel, and when a soccer ball comes hurtling towards your head you can almost feel yourself faint. Instead you duck, and the ball bounces off the wall and back to - Attila the hun, who is definitely not a wax statue anymore.

You’ve been here before, you know this place, and the fact that you’re here is terrifying you more than you ever thought it could. The Museum of Natural History in New York, which is funny, because you don’t live in New York.

Pretending as if everything you’re seeing is normal, you try to look for a night guard; you know they have one, and maybe they’ll know whats happening. At the top of the steps you find him, dressed in the usual dark blue garb, flashlight in hand. He’s talking to someone who’s definitely Egyptian, Ancient Egyptian, and if the crown meant anything, very likely royalty.

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry,” you say, tapping the night guard on the shoulder. “I… what’s happening here?”

He turns to you, and a smile of recognition crosses his face. Patting you on the shoulder, he says, “Oh! Yeah, you must be the, uh, new exhibit. From Mesopotamic or something?”

“Mesopotamia,” the Egyptian corrects him, with a surprisingly strong British accent. You look to him, then back at the night guard, still confused.

“What? No, I’m - I’m not from Mesopotamia, I’m from Colorado. What’s going on here?”

The two men look at each other, communicating in silent looks before turning back to you.

“Um… well, you’re in a museum. A magical tablet brings you to life every night, belongs to this guy,” the night guard says, pointing a finger back at the Egyptian behind him.

“I was dead. Like, really dead, did anyone solve - I was dead! Someone murdered me with a - a knife or something, and now I’m here?!” The reality of your situation begins to set in with you, and it’s not a pretty sight - your eyes go wide and you grip at your hair, wondering how in the hell this situation is in any way possible.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Are you sure you’re not from Mesopotamian?”

“Mesopotamia,” both you and the Egyptian say at the same time, glancing at each other before both turning back to the night guard.

“Right, whatever. You’re from Colorado?”

“Yeah, well… at least that’s where I was living. Wasn’t born there.”

“Makes sense,” the Egyptian says. “Most Mesopotamians don’t speak English.”

“Most Ancient Egyptians don’t speak English either,” the night guard points out. “You’re going to have to prove it to me.”

Internally you groan, ready to recite the events of the current age.

“It’s 1999, and -“

“Wrong. 2005,” the night guard interrupts helpfully.

“In that case, I must’ve been murdered a good long while ago.” An anger courses through you, and you begin to spit facts like you hate them, when you couldn’t feel less apathetic about it. “There’s fifty states in America, which was founded in 1776 by George Washington, John Adams, some guy named Richard I think, and the rest of the founding fathers. Umm… Nelson Mandela recently stepped down from his presidency, and the Sixth Sense came out, which I haven’t ever watched so don’t ask me about it.”

“Okay,” he says after a moment of contemplation. “That’s fair.”

“So you believe me?” You ask excitedly, smiling for probably the first time that night.

“Sure. But I don’t think I’ll be able to convince the other exhibits, they hardly speak English some of them… it’d probably be best just to say you’re Mespotamic.”

You and the Egyptian look at each other, too tired to correct him, and you both silently agree that he’s never going to get it right. At long last the two introduce themselves; the night guard’s name is Larry, and the Egyptian’s name is Ahkmenrah, and your previous deduction had been correct - he was royal, a king to be exact. Larry offers to look your murder up on the internet, but it’s safely assumed beforehand that it isn’t solved, considering your dead body is dressed up in Mesopotamian garb in a museum. No, someone is just a very smart killer.

“Like hiding a dead body in a graveyard,” Larry comments, to which you agree. After that fun excursion in which you are deeply unsettled by your Missing Persons poster, he decides to introduce you to the wide variety of characters inhabiting the museum.

By the fifth person you meet you’re a little numb to meeting famous historical people, and to the fact that everyone keeps calling you Mesopotamian. You don’t look the part, either in skin or facial features, and everyone’s immediate assumption is more than tiresome after the seventh person you meet. The only thing that jostles you by the time midnight strikes is the massive T-Rex, which, defying all logic of the tablet, does not have meat on its’ bones. You point this out to Ahkmenrah, who seems to be the leading expert on the tablet, and he just shrugs.

“Some things just happen some ways,” he says, leaving you more confused than you were before.

Your heart skips a beat when you notice a small child on top of the dinosaur, and begins to beat faster yet when Larry runs after him, leaving you alone with Ahkmenrah. He turns to you with a polite smile, a little too real to be only cursory.

“I never got to officially introduce myself,” he says, and you recall that it was, in fact, Larry who told you the King’s name. “I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king, and very pleased to meet you.” You hadn’t noticed he held your hand till it comes to his lips, a gentle, admiring kiss upon the back of it. Stuttering, you try to get a grasp on your words, blushing furiously from this single show of affection.

“I - I, uh… I’m (Y/N). I hold no title,” you finally get out, wondering if you should add your job in, before ultimately deciding that saying you’re a writer isn’t a great way to earn respect. “But it’s nice to meet you as well.”

He takes you on a tour of the different rooms just as Larry toured you around the people, telling you who each room belonged to, and a little history of the exhibit. He directs you by holding your hand, sending flutters into your heart every time he squeezes your hand when pulling you along to another room. You don’t have the heart to tell him you’ve actually visited the museum before, and whenever he smiles at you, you find you don’t want to tell him anyway - if only to get him to keep holding your hand.

To your quiet delight he keeps holding your hand throughout the night, tracing your veins as he explains exactly what to do when the night comes to a close.

Ultimately, it takes a good long while to adjust to what life is - it’s explain to you that you can’t leave the museum, and it takes you a much longer time to adjust to the fact that no one will ever solve your murder. As close as your friendship gets with the Pharaoh, it doesn’t fully fill the hole in your heart left by the fact that none of your friends or family know what happened to you. But, there are ups and downs to every story, and this story is pretty far-fetched anyway.

#ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #night at the museum #rami malek

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jellidile · 5 years ago

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A Home For Two (Michael Myers x Reader) Chapter 1

This is the beginning of the longest fic I’ve ever written, brought about by my own shitpost thoughts.

The reader is gender-neutral. Enjoy

Michael yawned as he slowly woke. He was going to do his daily ritual of just enjoying the silence of his home… But there was walking from downstairs. Michael sighed, how long would it be before people just stayed out?? It wasn’t like Judith was haunting the place. Hell the only thing that really haunted the Myers house was him. Slowly creeping to the top of the stairs he listened to the sounds below,

“Oh! Sheriff, good morning!”

“Well, good morning stranger. Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Moving in! I bought this house recently.” Michael stiffened. Someone bought the house? Michael kept peering. This wasn’t right… No one was interested in buying the Myers house. It was a bad house. Michael Myers go to hideaway. This was some sort of joke. But as he kept looking there were boxes piled in the doorway,

“Mind if I help you then? Just to welcome you to town.”

“Sure!” Michael retreated to his room silently. He grumbled to himself. Normally he would’ve just killed anyone brave enough to trespass onto his property. But this was different. This person lived here now. If they died people would definitely suspect him, or at least something in the house. Sighing he looked out the window and to the very run down shed in the back. It wasn’t comfortable but it was somewhere he could hide. Slipping out of the window silently he crept onto the roof and out to the shed. The shed was messy and filled with pointy objects but it was better than sleeping outside. Settling into the farthest corner of the shed Michael grumbled and fell asleep.

When Michael woke, it was to crickets and overall silence. Creeping out of the shed, there wasn’t any movement from the house. Much to his surprise the window he’d left the house from was still open.

Crawling back through Michael was doubly surprised to see the old mattress he’d been sleeping on replaced, with his- oh fuck… He’d left his extra clothes under the bed. He internally cursed to himself. Looking again Michael noticed they were devoid of the usual dirt stains from being stored on the floor. They were also neatly folded with a note on top,

Hi! To whomever these belong to, I thought I’d wash them for you. I understand it’s pretty sudden of me to be moving into this abandoned house. Sorry!

Michael paused, tilted his head and reread the note. An apology?? To him. Michael Myers. Sighing he sat on the mattress and lied down. He practically melted when his back hit the plush fabric. So he had to admit, this was pretty nice. He was content to just enjoy the plushness of the mattress slowly letting his eyes close. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes, but when Michael opened his eyes, gentle sunlight was flooding into his room. His muscles tensed as he shot up. What in the hell was wrong with him?? Angrily he got out of the bed, grabbed his clothes and left the house.

Back in the shed Michael tapped his foot angrily. Had you come in?? Did you see him? Every so often he peeked out of the shed. But for hours there was no movement. Finally around noon he saw something. In the window of his room you appeared. He couldn’t tell what you were holding but when you looked out of the window he could see you smiling.

You left only a few minutes later and for the rest of the day didn’t enter the room. Michael grumped as night fell and though he was sure the house didn’t have electricity, he waited till all the dim glows he could see were gone. As he clambered back into his room there were blankets on the bed, and another note.

I thought you might like these. Mystery stranger.

Michael huffed. Surely if you found out who he was, you’d rethink being so nice. But… what if you continued to be nice? Michael scoffed, no, you wouldn’t. Living with Michael Myers is something teens said they’d rather do then some other equally bad situation.

Quietly he opened the door. It didn't squeak, Michael had figured out how to move silently around the house weeks ago. Padding through the house he heard your gentle breathing come from the room his parents had used. He decided to leave you alone for now. You weren't causing him any trouble and he didn't feel inclined to end your life just yet.

The door to his sisters room held his attention though. Cracked open the slightest bit, there was a gentle glow. Peeking inside, Michael found a small shrine of sorts. Perhaps a vigil was a more apt name? Either way there on the windowsill was a picture of Judith. Hazy memories of his sister filtered through. She was nice enough. Maybe a little absorbed in her boyfriend. Michael liked Judith. Not that sentiments did much now.

Blowing out the candle he headed downstairs. Tarps lay over new furniture and paint supplies were scattered everywhere. Though it was dark Michael could sort of tell what the new colour was. Either a blue or white. He liked it.

In the kitchen, there were still a ton of boxes. It seemed you hadn’t gotten around to unpacking here yet. But all was not lost. There was food on the counter. A small package of cherry tomatoes, it was already open, and in Michael’s eyes. Fair game. Popping a few in his mouth he peered out of the kitchen window. Although he was creeping around in the middle of the night, he felt halfway normal. Eating real food than the sad excuse they had at Smith’s Grove, and just being free in his own house… Kind of his own house. Speaking of food, Michael was delighted to be eating something. The last time he’d eaten he couldn’t remember but he was about two hours away from eating another dog. The tomatoes he decided, tasted much better. Looking to his side he spied a container of grapes.

His mouth watered, grapes were good. He couldn’t remember how he knew that. He just did. Childhood maybe?? No, focus, he thought. Grapes. Slinking over to the container he could tell it would be too loud to open the container.

There were holes in the top but the grapes were too far down and Michael could barely get his finger out. He grumbled, resigned to opening the container. Slowly he pulled the plastic lid up from the rest of the container. He was as gentle as he possibly could when-

POP

Of course the damn thing had to make one of the biggest noises Michael had heard in a while. Hissing he snagged as many grapes as he could before leaving the house through the back door. As he left he could hear you stirring upstairs.

In the shed Michael ate his grapes halfway focussed on seeing what you would do, and halfway focussed on marvelling how much better grapes were compared to dogs! Michael cursed Loomis, if he could ever get his hands on that rat… He’d show him who the real evil was. Leaning against the wall of the shed, his body shivered. It would be winter soon… Glancing back at the house he thought about the blankets waiting for him. It seemed you wholly okay, with some strange unseen roommate. At least… you were. Michael would wait a few hours to see if you’d called the police thanks to his midnight grape theft.

But when no police came Michael stole away into his room. Locking the door he slipped into bed and for the first time in a long time. Slept soundly through the night. Warm in the sheets his boots neatly placed at the foot of the bed.

When he woke he heard the doorknob jiggle and he quickly hopped out of bed and placed his full weight at the door. He heard you gasp from the other side before sighing,

“I was wondering who locked the door. Good to know you actually exist.” Michael breathed heavy unsure of what to do. Quietly he heard shuffling and a plate being placed on the ground,

“Not big on talking? That’s okay. I know this is probably weird… I guess it’s just nice to not be so lonely… I’ll get you a notepad soon so you can talk back if you like.” Michael sat awkwardly with his back to the door. You were acting like you’d known him for months. Like this was just another day,

“Can I slip something into the room? I won’t look at you or anything. Just a gift.” Michael hesitated. But… You hadn’t tried anything so far. Slowly he unlocked the door and cracked it open a bit. Slowly you pushed a bowl of grapes in and quickly retreated, closing the door for him. With a gentle click he locked the door again. He heard you laugh,

“Next time, maybe don’t open those at midnight.” Quietly he took the bowl popping a grape in his mouth. You continued on about most anything,

“See, I like this house. Last time I was here, it was cold and lonely. But on day one here, it was almost alive. I guess when someone has made a house their home, everything brightens up huh?” Michael huffed. What would you do if he opened the door? Run, scream, beg for your life?

But...none of that seemed quite right. This was the first time he’d ever heard your voice for an extended amount of time. But from how you spoke, and mentioned how weird you must be… Michael couldn’t help but wonder what you would do. Maybe you would be startled, after all it wasn’t lost to Michael that he was incredibly tall. But perhaps… You’d be alright with him. He heard you groan,

“Well, I’m off to work, but maybe you’ll be around later?” Michael stayed quiet. You laughed,

“Oh, and you’re allowed to look at the rest of the house while I’m away. You don’t have to just eat at midnight.” Michael listened to your footsteps fade away and creak down the stairs. The door closing rattled the house slightly. Michael sat motionless thinking of everything you had said to him.

He could almost agree that it was nice to have company.

#michael myers x reader #Michael Myers #Halloween #fanfic #slashers

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turtle-steverogers · 6 years ago

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race is a flat earther and al wants to die

when i planned this fic this morning it was a lot more stupid and shit

but then this happened

so im sorry ig

warnings: none really. but angst kinda ig sorta

ship: ehhhhhh ralbert....

word count: 1030 how satisfying

His hand was wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, eyes trained on the road ahead of him, only flicking away every so often to check the rearview mirror. It was nighttime, meaning it was easy to lose oneself in the daunting shadows of the streets, threatening to pull you under with its strength.

Silence suffocated the atmosphere as it had often done in the past few months. Lips stuck together, struggling to make conversation though it had once been easy. Two hearts that had once been adjoined drifting apart by the second. Was it a blessing or a curse? A relief or a burden? The answers were unclear, but they had a mutual understanding of the shared feeling. Whatever they had was drawing to a close. It was weirdly sickening. Disheartening. Feeling the grasp of something so strong slipping between their fingertips as their hands that once gripped the other’s so tight barely brushed at the edges. It was like holding water in open hands.

They drove in circles around their town, their stomachs full from dinner. It was Valentine’s day and almost out of sheer obligation, and partly from literal desire, they’d decided upon a date night. It had been a while since they had done something together, anyway.

The night was going smoothly. No petty arguments. No fuck-ups or frayed ends fraying further. It was almost like old times. Almost.

They passed a road sign with a large, cheesy photo of the Earth on it, along with some stupid advertisement for water, and Race smiled sadly, brain wandering as a new memory invaded his mind.

“So, the Earth is flat.”

Albert groaned, letting his book drop to his lap as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“You’re literally an astrophysics major,” Albert sighed, keeping his palms pressed over his eyes as he fought the impending headache that threatened his skull, “don’t come at me with this shit.”

“Oh come oooonnnn,” Race whined, “Think about it! People all around the globe support this theory!”

Albert lifted his head, a bemused look etched on his face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before scrunching up his eyes and shaking his head.

Race bit back the urge to laugh, Albert’s reaction already better than he had imagined.

“Race, baby,” He sat up, guiding Race to sit down next to him and leaning forward to rub his temples, “I want you to say that last sentence again, but say it slowly. People all around the globe support it?”

Race couldn’t help the spurt of giggles that passed his lips, his face sprouting into a giddy grin, “Sorry, babe, sorry,” he managed between laughs, noticing that Albert was watching him with an exasperatedly amused expression, “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

Albert studied him for a moment longer, then scoffed and picked his book back up, “You give me pain, love.”

Race situated himself so that he was tucked into Albert’s side and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Yeah, but you love me, so…”

Albert’s gaze didn’t shift from his book, but his smile turned into something a little more genuine, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

The boys in the memory seemed to differ immensely from the boys who sat in the front seat of Race’s old RAV4 now. They had been more carefree. More open with each other. Less scared to say something wrong. But at the same time, more scared. Less resilient to when his right to speak up was thwarted. He had grown to be more guarded with himself. To hold his ground better, despite how detrimental standing up for himself seemed to be.

They passed a train station and another memory resurfaced, the intimacy of that moment making it almost more painful.

Albert’s lips were soft against his, hands gripping his biceps as they kissed slowly. It was well past midnight. Long since the time when other pedestrians swarmed the area, looking to go home after a long day of work.

They were alone, their solitude invigorating.

Albert lifted his hand, lacing his fingers into the back of Race’s hair and deepening their kiss. They were close, warm, happy. In love.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been there, listening to music and talking before losing themselves in each other, but it was amazing. Every stupid, cheesy love movie made sense in that moment. It was cliche, but real and raw and Race couldn’t be happier.

Albert pulled away and they broke apart completely, chests heaving and eyes glinting.

Albert traced his fingers lovingly along Race’s jaw, placing another, softer kiss on his lips. Race allowed his eyes to flutter shut again.

“My god, I’m in love with you,” Albert murmured, voice barely audible.

Race leaned his forehead against Albert’s, “I’m in love with you, too.”

Race swallowed, emotion rising in his throat. He missed it. He missed the long kisses and the strong embraces. He missed them.

The urge to reach out and take hold of Albert’s hand soon became too much to bear and he shifted his arm over the console. He could see Albert’s look of surprise in his peripheral when he intertwined their fingers, but he stayed adamant and a moment later, he felt Albert squeeze back, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. Just like old times.

So why didn’t it feel like it?

He rounded the turn into Albert’s neighborhood, driving on mental autopilot to the house he’d driven to so many times. He pulled up gradually, putting the car in park almost reluctantly. Almost.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Tonight was fun,” Race said, breaking the quiet.

Albert looked at him, smiling. It didn’t look right.

“Yeah, it was really nice.”

His remark was genuine, but scripted.

“I love you,” Race said, leaning forward to peck Albert on the lips, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

Albert reciprocated, but the warm feeling that once accompanied the motion was nonexistent, a weird pang of sadness taking its place.

“I love you, too,” Albert said, opening the car door, “Drive home safe. Happy Valentine’s day.”

Race waved, watching as he walked to his front door. They knew where they stood, but god did it hurt.

*hi wait this is me ten minutes after posting i edited it cuz i forgot to italicize memories lmao*

so happy valentine’s day lol

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @axolotlwhizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods

#newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #ralbert #racetrack higgins #chaotic boys #but sad chaotic boys #hmm

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endgameexecutor · 6 years ago

Text

So my wife, @crazygingerlady, wanted to see how much I’ve changed over the years. So here’s an ask meme I answered ages ago with updated answers. The old answers can be found here.

What was your:

Last drink: Cranberry lemonade, babey!

Last phone call: My wife. OvO

Last text message: (From my sister about a crab she caught): Could be a girl.

Last song you listened to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJAvPsSeXvg

Last time you cried: Bitch I wish I could cry. It would prolly help me get out all these bad emotions squatting in my body, not paying their dopamine rent.

EDIT: My wife informs me I was crying over how cute baby snakes were last night.

Have you ever:

Dated someone twice: Does dating my wife constantly count?

Been cheated on:

Kissed someone and regretted it: Only once, when I poked Jayde’s eye with my nose.

Lost someone special: I lost my grandmother when I was a child. I couldn’t even comprehend what was going on back then. It hit me like a truck a phew years later and I felt like shit when it did.

Been depressed: Been?

Been drunk and thrown up: Still don’t drink. Maybe if I had something blue and fruity...

In the past year have you:

Made a new friend: Lot’s of them in my college classes. Right now they’re on Discord shitposting about Seto Kaiba.

Fallen out of love: That’s an emotional roller coaster I plan to never ride again.

Laughed until you cried: Every time my wife says something funny. Unless it’s terrible terrible terrible.

Met someone who changed you: See: “My wife.”

Found out who your real friends are: I can trust no one in this filthy world but my cat, Arby.

Found out someone was talking about you: Are they? ...Are they saying nice things?

Kissed anyone on your Facebook list: Jayde were we Facebook friends before or after we kissed?

EDIT: She informs me it was before.

General:

How many people on your FB friends do you know irl?: I’m in a long distance relationship with my wife so that one’s a technicality. All my other IRL friends use Discord.

Do you have any pets?: Four cats. One with anxiety, one doesn’t like me, one’s a sweet angel, and one’s Arby.

Do you want to change your name?: Can I add titles like “Duke”?

What did you do for your last birthday?: Get a surprise visit from my wife who I proceeded to hug for a solid three minutes.

What time did you wake up today?: Nine-thirty. Or at least I’m hoping I woke up. I’ve got errands to run.

What were you doing at midnight last night?: Binging Criminal Minds way past bedtime.

Name something you CANNOT wait for: The fall of capitalism.

Last time you saw your mother: About a week ago. I’m the man of the house for now. Those plants you see outside? I watered them. Yeah, I’m a big deal.

What is one thing you wish you could change about yourself: Hi I’d like to return this depression with the executive dysfunction that came with it.

What are you listening to rn?: The dulcet tones of Jayde’s AC because I’m Skyping her while I write this.

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom?: I was on the highschool math team with one but let me ask this; why Tom? Why is that such and important name to you? Are you looking for a Tom? Did he break your heart?

What’s getting on your nerves rn?: The loneliness that comes with being the only person in this house.

Nickname: My wife calls me Bingus.

Relationship status: In a long-distance relationship, with my wife, @crazygingerlady.

Zodiac sign: ♉

Pronouns: He/him

Favourite tv show: I am fickle man, but right now the first two to come to mind are Criminal Minds and Star Vs.

High school: No thank you I ain’t reliving that. I think I was even more depressed and self-destructive back then.

College: Actually really enjoying my current degree in graphic design!

Hair colour: Still brown. Also why the “u”? Is this questionnaire some sort of data collection means for British spies? Or did I change it back then because I thought it made me look “cultured”?

It really just made me look like a twat.

Long or short: It was long and curly but then Jayde gave it a trim when I last saw her.

Height: Taller than you’ll ever be and that’s all that I need to say.

Do you have a crush on someone?: Golly gee whoever could it be?

What do you like about yourself?: Apparently I look real good in button-up flannel.

Tattoos: I have a plan to get “ARE YA NASTY” penned right on my cheeks before the year is out.

Righty or lefty: Righty.

First surgery: After a cursory check I have confirmed all my organs are in their proper places.

First piercing: One time I had this really bad splinter does that count?

First best friend: I think it was actually this kid who hit me in the face with a shovel. I don’t think we were friend for too long after that.

First sport you joined: Soccer when I was a kid. Went through a child league or something of the sort and stopped. I was not very good at it and am no better as an adult!

First vacation: Seattle as a kid, pity I can’t remember a lick of it on account of being baby.

First pair of trainers: I still have no idea what the fuck this means. Maybe the OP really was from the UK.

Rn:

Eating: Currently digesting a Taco Bell quesadilla.

Drinking: And a Strawberry Icee from the same place.

I’m about to: I’m not sure, I might go to France’s many vineyards and sample their finest wines. Or I might just finish up this questionnaire. I dunno.

Listening to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAbNynH35pw

Waiting for: My family to get home and also dreading it a little as well. Sure it was lonely, but it was also quiet.

Want kids: I already have baby names lined up.

Get married: Jayde’s grandparent’s have been looking at rings for us already.

Career: Remember when it seemed like I was going to be an accountant? Me either. Let’s keep going with graphic design like my wife was right about.

Which is better:

Lips or eyes?: If you’re asking what I like in a partner then I’ve gotta ask why exactly you’re making me choose!

Hugs or kisses?: Excuse me while I fucking embrace my wife.

Shorter or taller? I love my short, fat wife.

Older or younger? Older. My wife has a whole year on me! Grandma.

Romantic or spontaneous? I feel like there’s an overlap but I definitely need to plan more dates to surprise Jayde with...

Nose, stomach or nice arms? This still sounds serial-killer-ish but if I’m to set that aside, stomach.

Sensitive or loud? Bitch Jayde’s both. And I love it.

Hook up or relationship? I’m so happy with the one I’m in now. I ain’t ever gonna stop loving her. Bitch.

Troublemaker or hesitant? I dunno, I guess that would depend on trouble for who? Though given the bad ideas I suggest I’m really glad Jayde doesn’t do any of them.

Have you ever:

Kissed a stranger? Only when I pretend not to know who Jayde is.

Drank hard liquor? I’m not sure how to put a funny spin this. Next!

Lost glasses or contacts? I can’t wear them lest they reduce the beauty of my stunning hazel eye-things.

Sex on first date? That one is gonna be a nada for good.

Broke someone’s heart? I have, I still feel fucking terrible about it.

Been arrested? Nope, my record is clean aside from those traffic tickets.

Turned someone down? Yup, I had to tell Arby he wouldn’t get more food because he’d already been fed.

Cried when someone died? Not immediately. I think the “losing a loved one” covers that pretty well.

Fallen for a friend? Story of Jayde and I’s relationship.

Do you believe:

In yourself? On good days, yeah I do. I also might be too confident in my graphic design skills though.

Miracles? Yes, his name is Sirius and he’s Jayde’s baby boy.

Love at first sight? With my wife, but at the time my dumb-ass didn’t realize it. I’m as dense as lead.

Heaven? I’m not sure how to answer that. I mean I won’t fight against it’s existence but I ain’t but all my chips on it either.

Santa Claus? That was explained to me years ago but like hell I’ll ruin it for my kids. How much do red suits cost?

Kiss at first date? I’m not sure so I just kiss Jayde a lot to cover my bases.

EDIT: Jayde says our first “real” date was at the aquarium, and we kissed a lot.

Angels?: Have you seen my wife?

Speaking of I hope this gives a better idea of how I’ve changed over the years. I love you sweetie<3

#My stuff.

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spacednp · 7 years ago

Text

Zombies

TW: gore, zombies(is that a trigger?), panic attack (kinda), shitty title

SUMMARY: whats the guidelines 4 dis lmao ima need to fix this later

ADDITIONAL NOTES: the ending is BAD

the title sucks fuck off i knoww

yo yo follow the people below (and me cough cough) bc.. Yeet

Beta- @callmekiddo-2 (thank for putting up with my constant grammar errors fam)

Artist- my bro,,, @owlpip (Art links gonna go here when i get them)

WC: 7.3k (really short i knowww)

The sound of rushing water filled the room and the steam from it rose into the air. Small bubbles occasionally flew from the sink, floating away gently, like a peaceful and soft dance. Dan’s hands were covered in suds and began to wrinkle because of the constant stream of hot water embracing them. Dan picked up the last plate and wiped it in a swift motion with his sponge, making a circle of soap that he quickly rinsed off. He set that final dish aside before washing off his own hands and turning the water off. He then grabbed the dish towel and set to work, drying off the dishes. He swabbed the clear droplets of now cold water from each dish, concentration etched onto his face. Once each dish was dried he rushed about the kitchen, putting them all away. He and his flatmate had only been living in that flat for a few weeks and he was still getting used to, well, everything. Due to this, he was sure he had put a few things away wrong. But hey, Phil had asked him to do the dishes, and he did. Kind of.

The padding of footsteps behind him made Dan jump, nearly dropping the rag in his hand. “Fucks sake, Phil,” Dan hissed, throwing his damp rag onto the counter behind him. He came very close to knocking over an unlit candle, “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Whoops,” Phil replied, crossing his arms in the doorway, a smile painted on his face. Dan loved Phil, they were best friends, after all, but Phil was probably the least empathetic person when it came to scaring people. He couldn’t care less. Every once in awhile dan would like to hear a, “Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay?” instead.

“You’re an ass,” Dan muttered, turning back to his abandoned rag to put it away.

“Pfft, you know love me,” Phil said. (what should i do here looks kinda lame)

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Dan responded, trying to not smile. Dan and Phil had been best friends for years, hell, they had pretty much grown up together. After being essentially joined at the hip for almost ten years, the boys were pretty much family. They even started going on family holidays together, calling each other’s mothers’ “Mum” the whole time just to spite the other. The two were as close to brothers as anyone could get without the matching birth certificates.

“Thanks for doing the dishes,” Phil said after a minute.

“No problem, but you’re sweeping tomorrow to repay your debt,” Dan countered.

“What? But it’s your turn,” Phil whined. Dan turned back to Phil and shrugged, the smile that had left Phil’s face set on his own.

“It was your turn to do the dishes,” he pointed out, smile widening.

“Fair enough,” Phil sighed, rolling his eyes a little. He didn’t really think it was fair as sweeping was much harder than washing a few plates, but he didn’t say anything. After all, Dan did have a point and it was Phil’s turn to do the dishes. Phil turned and began to walk away.

“You heading off to bed?” Dan called after him. Phil turned, smiling a little.

“What, you want a goodnight kiss?” Phil teased, laughing lightly at his own joke.

“I don’t, but about eighty percent of the internet would want me to,” Dan joked back, causing both to snicker. The shipping didn’t bother the two anymore. After years of thousands of people reading into their every move, it got kind of dull. Of course they made jokes about it, it came naturally after a while. It was apart of life for them, and everyone made jokes about their life. People made death jokes because it was a part of life, they made sex jokes because it was a part of life, and Dan and Phil made shipping jokes just like that because it was a part of their lives.

“See you in the morning, Danny,” Phil shouted over his shoulder as he walked to his bedroom. Phil never really called Dan by the nickname, unless he was in the teasing mood. Just as an older brother would tease the younger.

Dan looked to the clock to see that it read about midnight, which was the usual time for Phil to turn in for the night. As for Dan, he had a sort of reputation to uphold-stay up on the internet for a few more hours until the blinding light of his laptop screen made his eyes red. Sometimes Phil would join Dan and they’d sit on their couch and occasionally tap the other on the shoulder, pointing to their own screen when they found a post they thought would make the other smile. For whatever reason that made the whole experience way better for Dan. Maybe he liked Phil being there because they were best friends, maybe it was just the presence of another person being sat next to him, or perhaps a tangle of both. Dan wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, Dan enjoyed it very much.

Dan soon retreated into his bedroom as wasn’t comfortable with just standing in the kitchen alone. He unplugged his laptop, glad to see it at full battery, and sat down on his bed. In record time, Tumblr was pulled up and he was scrolling through impressive amounts of shitposts and the occasional problematic rant by some self-righteous teen. He only skimmed through the posts, reblogging the few that made him blow a bit more air out of his nose than usual. Years of being a “full time internet homo” had that effect on him, barely laughing, mostly just exhaling more intensely.

One post on his dash stood out to him. Usually he’d scroll through phanfiction, ignoring the ones that seemed badly written by some 12 year old girl in twenty minute. That seemed to be the majority. However, every once and awhile he’d find one so amusing or highly requested he had to read it. Hell, he even found a few really well written ones that almost could be published or poetry. Naturally, when Dan found something like that he just had to read it. In any case, fanfiction was just writing-sometimes bad or… inappropriate writing, but: writing. It was better than getting high or drunk, so Dan figured he might as well support it, even if there were a few bad and emotionally damaging seeds.

The room was almost pitch black. The only sources of light being Dan’s open Macbook and the light peeking in through Dan’s window with the drawn curtains, caused by the street lamps, head lights, stars and moon of the outside world. It made the whole situation seem way more scandalous than it really was. Of course Dan would clear his search history after reading, and of course he’d deny ever reading the fic, and of course he would die if Phil found out, but that didn’t make it scandalous. Okay, maybe it did, but that was only because Dan made it so scandalous, it could be totally innocent and Dan could be open with his dirty little secret. However, that seemed too easy. Dan didn’t get much excitement in his life, so why not act like the whole reading phanfiction thing was this whole secret that was done behind closed doors and drawn blinds in the dead of night? It wasn’t like he secretly got off to it or anything, it just- he was just curious. That was it.

Well Dan being just “curious” lasted all of five paragraphs into the story. Then, he started to enjoy it. He loved the word choice, the characters (even if he was one of main ones), and even the plot. The whole story was based off of the zombie apocalypse and what would happen. Now, since Dan was such a massive nerd, the story called to him. It was thousands of words long- double digit thousands. However, Dan didn’t mind it at all. In fact, that was another thing he liked about it. If he could ignore the fact that it was he and his best friend’s names’, he could actually picture it being a real young adult novel. The writing was excellent and the pace was just right, he could actually see the characters falling in love. Shamefully, he fell in love with the characters as well. He even caught himself wondering why his Phil wasn’t like the one in the fic. If that was his Phil, of course he could be in love with him, the way the shippers wanted. That hit really close for Dan. He loved Phil, of course he did, but as a brother. The Phil in the story, however, he was different. He was more empathetic without being suffocating, he was strong and still sweet. Dan could see the resemblance to his Phil- wait, what? Dan just ranted in his own head about how great this character was, how he could have a romantic relationship with him, and then compared him to his 100% platonic best friend. That had to be crossing a ton of friendship boundaries, even for he and Phil. They were friends. That was it. But maybe it didn’t have to be… No. That was how it was. Friendship, only friendship. Period.

Dan knew that phanfiction was doing weird things to his brain. He knew he should click out, unfollow the person who put it on his dash, delete his search history and never go back. He didn’t though, he should of, but he didn’t. God, how he should of.

Instead of doing what was right, Dan gave into the alluring temptation. That had to be some kind of a sin, right? Imagine Dan being damned to Hell because he didn’t click out of a phanfiction, that seemed to be a very Dan thing to do. Rather this was true or not, it didn’t prevent Dan from reading the fic, and enjoying it. His bloodshot eyes focused on the brightness of his laptop screen and the black words on it in front of him, the rest of the world a massive blur of grays and streaks of white light shining in. Dan continued to read until the whole world went dark around him and he slipped into the warm embrace of sleep.

Dan awoke in a bed that was not his own, a warm hand on his left arm shaking him. Not wanting to wake up just yet, Dan rolled over onto his right side, away from the hand. Doing so, he was met by a sharp pain in the arm he’d rolled over on, which was luckily his right and non dominant arm. He heard a familiar voice, but it seemed distant and echoey, almost like it was at the opposite end of a tunnel. A long, dark, warm tunnel… Dan found himself drifting back into unconsciousness but was pulled out of it by the calloused hand that was still gripping him whilst shaking. Dan decided because of the the sharp pain burning into his flesh and the constant shaking there was little to no chance of getting back to sleep. The pain confused him because it wasn’t the type of pain you got when you slept wrong, it felt as if it was more of a open wound that could quite possibly be infected. Not that it would even make sense to have a sleeping pain in his arm, as Dan both went to bed and woke up laying on his back. As well as the odd pain, the weight of Dan’s laptop was gone. Had Phil came into his room, found the laptop on Dan’s stomach, and put it away for him? Oh no, had Phil seen what was on the screen? Dan didn’t remember closing the tab.

“Dammit Dan! Don’t you quit on me now!” The voice suddenly came into focus, like a camera. Once fuzzy and blurry, then sharp and clear. He knew that voice, it seemed a little worn though, broken from yelling. It was Phil’s voice.

“M’up, I’m good,” Dan slurred, opening his unfocused eyes trying to sit up. Doing so, the pain intensified, burning so fiercely Dan fell back. “What the fuck?!” Dan shouted.

“You got stabbed, idiot, remember?” Phil said, setting a hand on Dan’s chest to keep him down. When the world came into focus around Dan, he saw that the Phil next to him was not Phil. Or at least it wasn’t his Phil. This Phil’s skin was far too tan, his face was smeared with dirt (or dry blood, but Dan hoped it was just dirt), and his hair was way too long, his roots showing way too much. Dan looked at his pained right arm, seeing a white rag knotted around his slightly larger and more muscular bicep that was stained crimson with what Dan knew was his blood.

“Stabbed? What?” Dan gasped, voice coming out breathy and strained. His breathing quickened and he tucked his hands into fists, ignoring the pain caused in his right arm, digging little crescent moons into his sweating palms. He tried to force himself upright but was held down by Phil’s hand, who was ridiculously strong, so much so it was discomforting.

“Dan, you need to calm down,” Phil sternly said. Dan threw his fists at Phil’s hand, which seemed to be crushing. He just wanted to be alone, wanted to wake up in his room to the sound of Phil- his Phil, waking up obnoxiously loud. He didn’t want to be in this strange place with this strange Phil like some strange phanfiction…wait a minute. Phil’s description, his actions, Dan being stabbed- this was just like that phanfiction he fell asleep reading. But that was impossible, and even the idea of it increased Dan’s panic. He opened his mouth to scream at the weird person who was kind of like Phil, yell at them to go away, bring him back to his home, to his Phil, but nothing came out. His tongue felt too big in his mouth and his saliva felt like thick, dry cotton. He just wanted to go home! He wanted to wake up in his bed, yell at his Phil for waking him up so early, catch his Phil eating his cereal- he wanted it to be a weird dream. How could it be a dream? Dan felt pain, that didn’t happen in dreams, did it? So it wasn’t a dream? Did it mean Dan could never go home?

“Daniel!” Phil’s hand pressed harder on Dan’s chest and somehow brought him back to reality, or whatever it was, kind of. “Breathe Dan, breathe.” Dan was heaving for breath, he tried to listen, tried to breathe, tried to do what Phil said, but it wasn’t working. Dan just wanted everything to stop, please just stop. After a few minutes of struggling for air Dan felt himself start to calm down, the shaking he wasn’t even aware of started to slow, breath came easier, until he was only crying, yet another thing he wasn’t aware he was doing. He wiped his now unclenched hands on his face, trying to rid it of tears. He felt stupid, like an idiot. He’d just cried, like a complete child.

“I’m good,” Dan breathed, relaxing his head on the pillow under it. He went to bring his hands over his face to cover it but was brutally reminded of his injury in the form of a sting.

Dan had never been one to believe in the supernatural or even religion. He believed facts. Yes, a zombie apocalypse was theoretically possible. It was also something religious, to a sense. No, zombies didn’t carry around bibles and sit in pews on Sundays, that just sounded stupid. However, there was three main things religions tended to have. A higher power, the beginning of time being created in a ‘big bang’ sort of sense, sudden and with no explanation besides before mentioned higher power, and, of course, “The End”, or, in other terms, “The Apocalypse”. In a way, it made sense. Logically, life itself had to have a start. Therefore, it also had to have an end. Who’s to say life doesn’t have to follow the same rules it creates, a beginning and and end, birth and death? However, that theory didn’t explain why Dan was magically sucked into some post apocalyptic universe birthed from the brain of one of his fans. That didn’t make any sense. Dan wished he could make it make sense. When things made sense you weren’t scared of them, you could convince yourself it wasn’t dangerous. Dan didn’t have that luxury.

“I think I need some fresh air,” Dan announced, moving to sit up. He, of course, was blocked by Phil’s hand. It was really starting to get annoying, being pinned down. He felt trapped, caged in like an animal, a beast with no humanity. He felt like Phil didn’t trust him, then again, why should he? Dan wasn’t the person this Phil knew, and deep down he thought Phil would know that. Maybe Dan should just play his part, calm this man a bit. After all, why should both of them feel lost? From reading the phanfic he knew how sickingly codependent this universe’s Dan and Phil were, who was he to rip that apart? After all, Dan knew everything the other Dan knew. They acted quite alike - this universe’s Dan and the real Dan. It made sense, after all, this Dan was based on the real one.

“Good luck finding any,” Phil snorted. Dan had almost forgotten he had spoke, so lost in his own thoughts, trapped in the prison of his mind. Phil lifted his hand off of Dan’s chest and instead used it to help Dan stand, which was a difficult task. Soon Dan was upright and he and Phil were heading to the rotted door decorated with metal locks and deep scratch marks, which were pale in contrast to the dark finish of the door. As they walked Dan noticed the many weapons and cobwebs littering the walls of the cabin, he appreciated them, though he had no idea how to use them. Phil grabbed a machete off the wall, very worn and coated in a brown substance that Dan knew was dried blood. Dan hoped he wouldn’t have to see Phil use it.

No part of Dan protested when Phil walked him out, or when held the door for him, or even when Phil rested his hand on Dan’s lower back. He wished he would have, wished he could have made himself. The truth was that Dan didn’t mind. His stomach didn’t drop, his skin didn’t burn or tingle. If anything, Dan felt safe. Warm. Content. Like what was happening was just… right. Was that insane? None of it was right, he wasn’t where he was supposed to be-not by a long run. He was supposed to be home, in bed, eyes bloodshot from his bright laptop screen. He wasn’t though, and that wasn’t right. It would be nice if it was, it’d be nice if his own kind of paradise wasn’t standing there consumed in the feeling of a man he didn’t know, a man that wasn’t real.

When the two exited the shack Dan woke up in they were engulfed by a forest. Shrubs, moss, and mushrooms littered the floor and above the canopy of the trees were so thick you could only catch a sliver of blue when you angled your head right. It wasn’t what Dan expected at all. He expected a city in ruins, bloody human like creatures digging into the corpses of children. The air, however, was just as he expected it. Thick, hot, smelling of rotting flesh, far from the musky, cool breezes a forest should carry. Dan suddenly remembered why everything was the way it was. In the phanfiction Dan and Phil decided to take shelter away from civilization because the cities… they were just as you’d picture. Gray, covered in a thick layer of crimson blood, only populated by zombies or sick bastards that couldn’t care less about you and only wanted your supplies. Evil place, the world had become.

“Zombies aren’t even the problem anymore,” Phil said, as if he was reading Dan’s thoughts. “Hell, they weren’t even the problem to begin with. People were. People created it and let it out. People… People started this mess…” Phil’s voice trailed off meaningfully. Dan understood what Phil meant, thinking back to the phanfiction. The writer had a bit of a prologue before they wrote the story. It described the beginning of the end, in a sense. It was like most starts to fictional zombie apocalypses, new drug that’s not tested enough creates a sickness. That drug was somehow leaked into the water supply and the world got sick, however, a few were immune. The drug was fought by a mutation in the genes of certain people. That gene was the blue eyes gene, which Dan did carry. Blue eyes was a recessive trait that didn’t show in Dan because of the brown eyes trait (a dominant gene) he also acquired. Phil too had this the blue eyes trait but his did show. However, those infected were given the instinct of spreading the pathogen. The only way they could do so when someone carried the blue eyes trait was via injection of contaminated DNA. Basically, if you carried the blue eye trait you were fine to drink, but it could still get the illness if you got bitten.

In Dan’s peripheral vision he spotted movement. He grabbed at Phil for reasons he couldn’t explain nor did he want to try and understand. Phil seemed unphased by this and just shook Dan off. “I think there’s one,” Dan tried to explain, pointing to where he thought he saw movement. Dan swore he saw concern paint Phil’s features for a split second before it was gone, but it was probably nothing. This version of Phil wasn’t the one Dan knew so well, it was a variation of him, but it wasn’t him. This Phil was made up by some teen girl on her laptop at four in the morning, and Dan couldn’t forget that. No matter how real this Phil seemed, he wasn’t.

Dan didn’t have much more time to fuss over his weird feelings for his friend’s character in some story he was somehow a part of (wow his situation was complicated) because they were joined by a freak of nature. The creature burst from the undergrowth, running towards them with a slight limp, arms outstretched and fingers like the talons of an eagle. The creature was just as you’d imagine a zombie; It’s pale skin was almost green but still carried the gray tint of death. It’s features were hollowed out, reminding Dan of one of those before pictures on an eating disorder recovery story. It’s clothes were torn and blood soaked. Gashes covered it, skin peeling away to show bloody and rotting flesh. Around its mouth there was the trace of its last meal, dried blood and chunks of flesh that didn’t seem to be its own. It’s eyes no longer held the glimmer of life and carried dark bags under them, far worse than the eye bags you got after a few nights of restless sleep. Everything about it was horrible and made Dan do a little sick in his mouth. A scream lodged itself in his throat but stayed there.

Phil stepped into action immediately and Dan wished he could say he didn’t find it ridiculously hot. The way he pushed Dan behind him and raised his machete up made Dan audibly gasp. If he hadn’t been so terrified out of his wits he’d consider it a turn on, which was concerning because this was Phil, Dan’s no homo best friend and roommate. Well, maybe it wasn’t Phil Phil, but still. The zombie ran faster and just when Dan was certain they were dead and Phil had no idea what he was doing, Phil surprised him. He stepped forward (towards the terrifying monster, Dan might add) with his left foot, and used all his strength and sung as he stepped, slicing the zombies head off. The body collapsed and the decapitated head rolled away. Dan was certain he was going to actually vomit.

“You’re bloody insane,” Dan breathed, staring at the open eyes and mouth of the head on the ground a few feet away from him. He felt like it was looking into his soul, and it was terrifying.

“You’re welcome, for you know, saving your life,” Phil said, turning to Dan and glaring at him.

“You’re an arse,” Dan spat, angry at Phil and not really knowing why. He had a point, without him Dan would be zombie food. He should be grateful, so why was he angry?

“Excuse me?” Phil’s eyebrows furthered and it seemed like venom laced his words. “You know what? I don’t even care!” Phil let out a dry and humorless laugh. “You know what the funny thing is? For a minute there, I thought you gave a half of shit about me, looks like I thought wrong, you don’t care about anyone. Not even yourself.” Phil growled, pushing his way past Dans and making his way to the shack.

Dan remembered why this was happening. Why he was angry, why Phil seemed like someone shoved a stick in his butt. In the fic, Dan threw himself in danger, went off without Dan and ended up getting hurt, Phil ended up saving him from getting eaten/infected, but still, a few heated words were shared. Before this, they had a bit of a, well, they slept together. Dan knew from the fic that Phil was felt that made the two more than friends, but the fic Dan didn’t think so. The fic Dan didn’t mean to hurt fic Phil he just didn’t think one night changed anything whereas fic Phil thought it meant everything. The whole thing was a mess and Dan was stuck in the middle of it, it was like if The Walking Dead was a gay soap opera. Shaun of the Dead meets General Hospital meets… gay. As for Dan, “not caring about himself” was probablybecause of when Dan got hurt, he wasn’t careful and overall it was like he didn’t care anymore.

Dan was lost in an ocean of thoughts and of course he was so deep that there were sharks. His senses failed him, he didn’t hear the shuffling of footsteps, couldn’t see what was coming as it was behind him, nor did he smell the putrid stench of rotten flesh and despair nearing him. No, all those senses failed him. However, one did not. The final sense, the one that paints a soft blanket or your lover’s hand, was the one that told him. The boney hand lacking any fat and only covered with a thin layer of peeling skin was what told Dan that he wasn’t alone. It pulled Dan back with remarkable strength for a creature with deteriorating muscles. Maybe a scream found its way through Dan’s mouth, maybe it didn’t. Perhaps it stayed lodged in Dan through, glued there by pure terror. Either way, Dan was pulled back and somehow managed to get himself turned around so he was face to face with husking skin and yellow, sharp teeth. It’s breath smelt of rotting teeth and metallic blood. Dan’s whole body was shaking and he could feel death nearing. He imagined a grim reaper lurking in the bushes near by, scythe in hand and dark cloak on its back.

The world was in slow motion, Dan felt every millisecond pass and felt like he could write an entire novel of each passing moment. Dan watched as its yellow teeth neared him, felt his heart beating out of his chest and shut his eyes tight, waiting for death. Dan wondered if this was the way out of the nightmare he had someone gotten himself in. He had heard of death being the one sure fire way out of any dream, maybe it was the same kind of thing. Maybe he would finally wake up in his own bed. Maybe he would finally be able to go hug his own Phil. Dan doubted he would sleep alone in his bed for weeks after this whole ideal, he’d just sleep with Phil. They used to do that all the time, it was just comforting. Dan was sure Phil wouldn’t mind, why would he? He always enjoyed it just as much as Dan did.

There was a swoosh sound in Dan’s ear and then he felt chunks of something splatter all over him. The grip that once help extra tight on his already hurt arm weakened and then slid off. A violent shudder ran through Dan’s body. He opened his eyes and felt tears run down his cheeks. Phil stood behind the limp body of the zombie that had previously been three seconds away from killing Dan. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t Dan’s Phil, the real Phil. It didn’t even matter that this whole thing was probably some kind of odd hallucination. None of that mattered, because his eyes were Phil’s eyes and if Dan focused hard enough he could pretend this man in front of him was the same Phil he watched from behind a computer screen as a teenager, the one that ended up being his first and only best friend. So, Dan wrapped his arms tight around Phil’s neck and he cried, but he only cried harder when Phil didn’t smell the same as he should have and when he felt way too broad to be his Phil. Still, Phil dropped his weapon and held Dan close and at least that was comforting. This Phil still wrapped his arms tight around Dan’s waist and let him cry on him. Even if this wasn’t the real Phil, he still shushed Dan and rubbed his lower back and didn’t care that Dan was getting tears and snot all over his shoulder.

“I hate this place,” Dan sobbed, and he didn’t care that Phil wouldn’t know the truth behind his words. He didn’t care. He just wanted to be held and told ‘I know, I know,’ even if it wasn’t true. Even if it was all a lie, it was the only lie Dan would let himself believe, just for now, just until he felt a little better. They were both covered in dirt and blood, but that was okay. It was okay that Dan’s wound opened back up, it was okay that he almost died twice within an hour, it was okay that this Phil was in love with not this Dan but a different one, that was all okay.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Phil suggested, slowing the circles that he was rubbing on Dan’s back. Dan nodded into Phil’s shoulder and let Phil pull away and guide Dan inside. Phil sat Dan down on the bed. “I’ve gotta go get my machete, okay? I’ll be right back,” Dan nodded even though Phil was no longer looking at him and was already halfway out the door.

Dan’s heart felt sad. It was like a huge cloud of sad decided to park above his rib cage and just sit there. It was like the days when Dan would just wake up sad. Dan wasn’t depressed or anything, sometimes he just had sad days, and that’s okay. However those days he didn’t have any reason to be sad, but today he had all the reasons to be sad. He missed Phil, his Phil. He wanted to hug him, not this store brand version of him.

“Do you need another hug?” Phil asked, frowning above Dan. Dan didn’t even realize he was back.

“Yes, I need a thousand hugs,” Dan breathed. Phil smiled sadly and sat next to Dan, wrapping an arm around his waist. A few minutes passed before Phil spoke.

“You don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you, and that’s okay,” Phil paused for a minute and moved Dan over a bit so he had more room to sit. “However, I don’t want you to lie and say you do, I can’t handle that. I’m in love with you, and you’re not in love with me, that’s okay, but please don’t lie to m-”

Dan didn’t know why he did it. But he did it. He cut Phil off by sitting on his lap and forcing their mouths together. He didn’t let Phil pull away or object; when he felt like Phil would try and stop him he kissed harder. He did that until Phil set his hands on Dan’s sides and kissed him back. The kiss tasted dirty and wrong and it made Dan’s heart sad even more, but he still did it. Even after they pulled away and caught their breath, Dan’s heart was sad. So, he kissed Phil again. He knew it was wrong and he was just using Phil, but he didn’t stop. He could tell Phil wanted him, he could tell he loved him, and that felt nice. Dan liked to be wanted and loved. He let Phil’s hands learn their way around his body and he forced his brain and heart away and just acted. He traced his hands all over Phil. He let Phil take off his clothes and he took Phil’s off as well, and he let the thing that started the first argument happen again. He let Phil think Dan felt the same way for him, but one dark truth lurked. This Phil was in love with his Dan and Dan was in love with his Phil. Dan didn’t want to believe it but he knew it was true. He wanted this, but not with this Phil.

The only way Dan could cope with his new realization was to block it out. He let fic Phil have whatever part of Dan he wanted and Dan pretended he loved this man. Because the two Phil’s were completely different people, it only got hard when fic Phil did something that reminded Dan of his Phil. That’s when Dan’s heart would get sad again. Dan would block that out too though, and soon Dan hated himself. He hated how naturally deceiving Phil came to him. He hated how no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring himself to look fic Phil in the eye because those eyes reminded him of the real Phil. Slowly self hatred and destruction became a habit. Even though the world was full of actual zombies plagued with a cell destroying disease, Dan still felt that the sick monster was himself. Fic Phil still took care of Dan and saved his life almost daily but sometimes Dan wished he wouldn’t. Maybe if Phil was a little late one time then Dan wouldn’t have to be the one to break his heart, it would just be cruel Mother Nature and another case of star crossed lovers.

Well naturally the one wish that did come true during that whole ordeal was the one involving Dan’s own death. Of course. It wouldn’t of made sense for it to be Dan wanting to wake up or not having one useless arm that always hurt and the second he moved it would begin squirting blood, no, that was just too nice of whatever cruel higher power put Dan in that mess. That angsty God just wanted more drama.

It happened when Dan left the wood rotted shack for a little time away from the mess he’d weaved himself in with Phil. Phil ran up and gave Dan a kiss on the forehead before he left and Dan felt he was going to be sick. Still, he smiled at the gesture and gave Phil a peck on the lips and a muttered “I love you”, still holding back his sick. He’d never really been one for mega sappy relationships and it didn’t make it easier that this whole relationship was lacking any love from his part. He wish he meant the “I love you”, but he felt nothing as he said it, only longing for someone who had aspects of this man but who wasn’t him. Dan quickly got out of that hell house of a shack and walked a bit deeper into the forest than he should have. He stood on the ledge that overlooked a gray city and a lake that looked to be covered in a thick layer of dust. He watched creatures that weren’t quite human limp about and tear apart corpses of what might of been a person that might of had a family. Then again, maybe they were the last one of the family and they wished death upon themselves like Dan did. Even if life beyond this wasn’t life at all, even if he didn’t wake up in his own world with his own Phil, maybe that was okay, at least then he wouldn’t have to lie to anyone. No matter what happened after this, Dan never wanted to lie again. Lying was too much for Dan to handle and it was tearing him apart.

Dan had a bit of Déjà vu when he felt the boney hand grab him, digging into his upper arm. He felt it began to bleed but he did nothing, not even scream. Then it dug into his other arm, the healthy one. That one started to bleed too. He felt crimson liquid drip down his body but he did nothing but shut his eyes and wait for the teeth. They snuck into the part between his neck and shoulders, they ripped through tendons and ligaments. They crunched nerves and punctured veins. Then they were ripped from him and took the chunk of flesh with them. The hands digging into his arms also pulled out of him. He heard familiar slicing and he felt his knees give out, he opened his eyes when he felt arms around him. He swore he was going to be sick. It was Phil, and as always, he saved him. Well, not really. Dan looked at him with glassy eyes and smiled sadly. He felt his resolve fading and he slipped into insanity and sickness.

“Do it,” he croaked. Tears covered Phil’s cheeks and it made Dan ache. Even if he didn’t love this Phil, his eyes were still the same three-colored ones of his flat mate and best friend, and those eyes should never cry. Dan wanted to dry his tears but he couldn’t move his arms, they were in too much pain.

“I can’t,” Phil managed, voice breaking. “I just can’t do it.”

“Please, Phil, it hurts,” Dan said, voice dripping with pain. It was like the worst flu ever mixed with open wounds and bleeding out. Phil nodded once and returned Dan’s sad smile. He got his machete and laid Dan down comfortably on a soft patch of grass.

“I love you,” Phil told Dan as he raised his weapon. He was determined to do it quickly and in one even swipe, that would make Dan suffer less, and that’s all he wanted at this point.

“I love you too,” Dan lied. Or maybe he didn’t. Of course he was grateful for this man, he had saved Dan’s life a few times, but did that equal love? Probably not. Still, Dan wanted the last words Phil heard from him to be that he loved him, even if it was a lie. He needed that, so he would give it to him.

Phil raised his machete and one minute Dan felt all his pain, then for a split second he felt incredibly sharp pain in his neck, and then he felt nothing. For a moment there was black, nothingness, but then Dan was opening his eyes in his room, in London. He felt the familiar weight of his laptop on his lap and he didn’t feel any pain. Dan sighed in relief. He got up to go find Phil, needing him right that moment.

The smell of coffee and the clinking of dishes lead Dan to believe Phil was in the kitchen. As he walked into said kitchen he was aware that his suspicions were indeed correct. Phil stood next the a counter in his pjs, stirring a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Danny Boy,” Phil said when he saw Dan walk in. He took a minute to go back to making his coffee but then he continued the one-sided conversation. “I read last night that more people are killed by donkeys than plane crashes, isn’t that cool?”

Dan was so happy that Phil said it. It meant it was the real Phil, the Phil that he met in Manchester on the train station so long ago. This was Phil. His Phil. Dan had so many emotions that he didn’t know what to do with them, so he cried. He just burst into sobs right there, a few feet from Phil.

“Dan are you okay? Did a family member of yours get killed by a donkey? Did I just bring back traumatic repressed memories from your childhood?” Phil rambled, and Dan just cried harder. “Can I do anything to make it better?”

Dan nodded once. “Hugs, please,” he requested. Phil nodded and abandoned his coffee to wrap Dan up in his arms. Dan cried harder, happy tears, because this was the Phil he knew. He smelled like coffee, liquorice, and apples. He smelt like Phil. His arms wrapped tightly around Dan’s back and made him feel safe. He felt like he could say anything and it would be perfectly okay, so he said the one thing on his mind. “I love you,”

Phil didn’t say anything back for a long few seconds. It stretched out like an eternity, but he didn’t lessen his grip on Dan and Dan was beyond grateful for that. Only sound in the room was their breathing and Dan was nervous about how heavy his was compared to Phil’s, who kept his composure too well for Dan’s liking. Dan expected Phil to reject him or something. Phil didn’t say anything. It seemed like eons of waiting for something-anything. Finally, Phil responded.

“I love you too,” and Dan’s heart stop and he started over analyzing. Of course Phil loved him, as a friend. Friends say ‘I love you’, right? Was it just he and Phil that never said it? Or maybe they did, Dan’s mind was too fuzzy to recall. Well, there’s really only one way to find out how Phil meant it. Dan somehow managed to loosen Phil’s grip on him enough to push their mouths together. Phil didn’t retaliate for a few seconds and Dan thought he was going to die of embarrassment and waited for Phil to again, do something.

Phil did do something. Dan felt the pressure being returned and he actually thought he was literally going to die. He didn’t though and when they had to pull away to breathe Phil hugged him tighter and Dan was glad that Phil’s breathing was just as heavy as his. As happy as he was, Dan was still kind of worried for the Phil in the phanfiction. What happened to him? When Phil finally let Dan go and Dan looked into his eyes Dan felt guilty again.

“I’ll be right back,” Dan breathed, as if he was scared that if he was too loud what just happened with he and Phil would shatter. Phil didn’t say anything but looked concerned.

Dan hurried back to his room and quickly read the end of the fic and almost threw his laptop across the room. The last line was:

“After Dan and Phil shared their kiss Dan rushed back to see the ending of the story he was trapped in, wanting to know the ending.”

And then it ended. Just like that, an open ending. Everyone hates those and yet authors keep writing them. Over and over again.

The end.

#phanfiction #zombies #ooo spoopy #phan #phandombigbang #phandom big bang

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