#i gave up on the long rant post here's a summary lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuahoonie · 3 years

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holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. ��Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

In The Rain. (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: Can a classic case of miscommunication be solved before the rain puts out the flickering light of love?

Warnings: trash. lmao. this is better than my radio silence, so... lol... fluffy, angsty (you know the drill)

Word Count: ~2k

The lights flickered for only a second when the bright streaks that painted the sky were followed by deafening claps of thunder that shook your house. The rain was heavy as it pounded against the windows and the harsh winds were no kinder, but they were nothing compared to storm brewing within you.

A deep sigh escaped you as the blanket around your shoulders slipped off and pooled around your waist. You had a warm coffee in one hand and a book in the other while you sat at your reading nook watching the dark sky. It was a collection of poetry with several multicolored Post-It flags sticking out from its pages. Each color represented a feeling a poem elicited, and you found yourself flipping to those with a dark blue flag – the color of sorrow, heartbreak, sadness. In all honesty, it was self-pity.

You weren’t sure why you lingered for so long. Nothing but history and memories were keeping you in his life. The amicable breakup left you detached yet still attached to him. And what made everything worse was that you were still in love with Chris.

The breakup shocked those closest to you. You and Chris were – well … – the most unsuspecting perfect match. You were two completely different souls that balanced one another out. You complemented one another – hell, you completed each other. You were two independent entities that pushed the other to become a better version of themselves. The energy shared between you was radiant and the love was consuming. It was pure and unfiltered. Passionate. You weren’t one to believe in true love – in soulmates, or even twin flames – but then you met Chris and everything changed.

But like all matches – like all flames – they burn out.

You blamed it on anxiety – on expectations. You never had a long-lasting relationship. Chris was the first man you ever felt a true connection to – and that scared you more than you let on.

He was nearing 40 – the ripe age to settle down, to have a family. Although you were certain you wanted that with Chris, you weren’t sure if you wanted that now. Your reluctance had you absentmindedly push him away. You began to untether yourself to him. Untangling the beautiful, strong bond you once had until it was nothing but a single thread.

Although it was you that started to pull away, it was Chris who vocalized his unhappiness. It was Chris who instigated. The night you broke up, he refused to listen to your worries and your reasons for your sudden aloofness. “Do you even love me?” He asked you, but he didn’t wait for a response. You already blamed yourself – and it hurt twice as much when he blamed you, too.

It shocked you when you found out he told friends and family the breakup was mutual… because it was Chris who severed it … The supposedly mutual breakup kept an open door of communication for your families. While your family never bothered Chris or his kin, Scott constantly reached out to you, as well as his mother. They’d often invite you to house parties, dinners, karaoke nights… When you’d decline – finding it was a bit of a territory breach – they’d always claim Chris wouldn’t make an appearance but he always did.

Although you were broken up, you were forced to remain friends. You were forced to look at him across a dining table as if you didn’t know his deepest secrets. You spoke casually as if you never spent late nights unburdening your souls to one another. You acted as if you were friends that were never completely in love with each other.

You remembered the phone call from Scott this morning. He relayed a message from their mom, asking you to come to dinner. When you declined, Scott demanded for a reasonable answer. He often found, “I’m your brother’s ex-girlfriend” a useless excuse.

“I still love him, and it hurts because we’re pretending like we were never together.” Your voice broke. “I’m trying to pull away – trying to move on – but I don’t know if it’s me holding onto hope, or if it’s just....” You couldn’t finish your words – you weren’t sure how to. You felt guilty for confessing this to Chris’s brother of all people. You knew it wouldn’t confidential – that he’d tell Chris – but you just had to say it out loud once.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. Taking pity on you, he decided it was probably best that you kept your distance from Chris – which was the opposite of the goal of him constantly inviting you out. “A storm’s coming tonight,” he mentioned. “And I know how rain helps calm you.”

But it did anything but that.

-=+=-

Chris had some idea of where it went wrong. The night it all ended, he blamed you. He knew he was in the wrong for that.

The night of his outburst haunted his memories, keeping him up all hours of the night. The image of your tearstained cheeks, reddened eyes, and pure heartbroken expression was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. He remembered how you barely got a word in because every time you opened your mouth to speak, to reason, to argue, he spoke over you with such a heated, rage-filled tone that he didn’t even recognize.

He was afraid to lose you and because of his own arrogance and stubbornness, that’s exactly what happened.

You were unraveling your bond slowly, tactfully while he tore it to shreds.

And he regretted it every single day.

“Is (Y/N) coming?” He asked as subtly as he could while he and Scott set the table. Scott simply shook his head. Chris placed a plate onto the placemat as thunder shook the house, the glasses rattling slightly. “Do you know what she’s doing tonight?” He asked, trying to stay casual though everyone saw right through it. Scott’s brows were furrowed as if contemplating and his mouth was pressed into a firm line. Knowing him for all his life, Chris knew when his brother was hiding something. “Scott.”

“I can’t tell you!” Scott finally answered. That answer pulled at Chris’s heart – were you with someone? Is that why you weren’t here? “She’s just… she just needs a night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris frowned. An upside to this “amicable” breakup was having his family constantly pull you back into their atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they did it for him (they did), but he was thankful for all the nights you walked into their family home, gracing him with your presence even if you barely spoke. His brother remained silent and Chris called his name again.

“She’s just upset, okay?” Scott revealed. Chris’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She just needs some time to think and heal.”

“What does that mean?”

Scott sighed. “I can’t tell you. She told me not to – Chris… do you plan on getting back together with (Y/N)?”

“Of course.” Chris answered with no hesitation. “I love her.”

“Then, why’d you break up with her?” Scott asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course, he planned his apology. He planned his dramatic way to woo you back into his arms – to make you fall in love with him again. He didn’t quite know how to execute it – should he have been a cliché with a boombox, calling your name outside your window?

“I… I guess I felt like she was pulling away… and so, I felt like I had to beat her to the punch,” Chris cringed. It was a childish sentiment… But perhaps it was because his ego couldn’t take being broken up with? Or perhaps the thought of losing you clouded his judgement so much and consequently, his fears came true.

Scott scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes for effect. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah and I feel bad about it, but every time I try to talk to her, she closes up.”

“I wonder why.” Chris groaned annoyedly at his younger brother, slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead. “She told me before that she felt as if she didn’t belong with you because you’re ready to start a family and she wasn’t.”

“When she say that?”

“A while ago…” Scott scratched his chin.

“But I don’t… I don’t need a family right this second. I just need her.”

“Does she know that?” Scott asked him. “Because all she knows is that you had enough of her.”

“I didn’t really give her a chance to talk…” Chris confessed. “I just… I kinda just ranted at her.”

Scott sighed disappointedly. “In all honestly, brother, I think you need to have an actual conversation with her… Not just a I’m-gonna-yell-at-you …”

Lightning flashed through the windows as the rain steadily poured. It didn’t look as if it were going to let up any time soon. Chris glanced at the clock. It was early into the evening – if it hadn’t been storming, then the sun would be painting the sky a beautiful orange sunset. Instead it was dark, gloomy – uncertain like your future.

Without much contemplation, Chris rushed out of the dining room, cutting through the kitchen. His mother gasped when he barged through the doors and walked to towards the front. “What are you doing?” She called after him. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’m getting my girlfriend back,” Chris told her. His mother’s worried expression melted into one of pride as she cupped her chest with her hand and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Go get ‘er.”

“Love you, ma,” Chris called before walking out the door and braving through the storm.

-=+=-

The doorbell startled you from your nap. You hadn’t even realized you began to drift to sleep. With little regard about your appearance, you drudged towards the front door, wondering who could be at your house at this hour – especially with a storm like this.

“Chris?” You gasped, eyes widening as your ex-boyfriend was shivering from the rain. He was drenched, standing at your front porch. “Why are you here in the rain?”

“We need to talk.” You felt the blood leave your face. The last time he said those words to you, he left you crying and heartbroken. Thunder rumbled as you stared at him. “Scott told me.”

“Of course he did,” you rolled your eyes with frustration. “Chris, I don’t want to talk –“ You tried to close the door, but he easily overpowered you, keeping it open.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Chris snapped before sighing. “(Y/N),” you always loved the way he said your name. “I don’t want a family right now… I just want you… I just need you.”

You stared at him. Chris was never one to lie. He was terrible at it. His eyes always gave him away. Much like they did tonight when they revealed he was being truthful.

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole that night. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you – that I didn’t even try to listen.” He paused, waiting for you to butt in, but you never did. You just stared at him in silence as you processed. “You’re the only one I want to be with… and I understand if that’s not what you want… You can close the door and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to whatever we were… But I’m not going to ignore this.” When you remained silent, he said, “please, please say something.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me doubting myself – that I started to push you away because I was afraid of what a serious relationship with you meant…”

He took a step towards you, hands reaching for you. One hand found its home at your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “It’s not your fault…” He said. “I love you and I always will. Please, take me back.”

“I love you, Chris,” you muttered before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him towards your lips.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber imagine #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysadale

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hawopro · 4 years

Text

Thoughts of a rare soul who enjoyed DMBJ’s Time Raiders 2016 adaptation (1/2)

[SPOILERS]

So I got into DMBJ bc of Reboot Zhu Yilong’s Wu Xie, I’ve been comparing all the Wu Xie, and came to check out Luhan’s. I just didn’t expect to fall in love with Jing Boran’s ZQL/MYP and catch feels for Pingxie?? Once again falling into niche fandom life??

Apparently within the niche DMBJ fandom, there’s a tinier, almost nonexistent niche for Time Raiders, so I have to rant about it.

Incredibly long post, so here’s a summary:

Action, A-Ning’s insole blade

My favorite Wu Xie adaptation

MYP whump and his damned smiles

A-Ning & PangZi + Badass tomb-raiding crews

Questionables things, prop & plot

Pingxie + 2/2

Foremost, this is an action movie. The action sequences are very nice, even with the occasional flying/floating people/objects in cdrama. As an action movie nerd, I approved and gave it 6.5/10 (and my standard is The Old Guard okay.) There’s everything--swords, guns, grenades, A-Ning’s insole blade. I particularly enjoyed ZQL vs Da Kui & Pan Zi, and ZQL vs A-Ning cut.

Characters are pretty fleshed out for a movie, motives and development are clearly established.

I really like this Wu Xie, personally I think he came closest to what I imagined to be novel’s WX. He is inexperienced, incredibly curious, and daring, but knowledgeable, he thinks outside the box and pulls his own weight, even aiding the crew. He’s BABY, naive, kind, and cheeky af. Refer to How to make friends--a guide by Wu Xie.

But by the end, you know that he matured, he’d seen deaths, hell, he broke his promise to take care of MYP, he grew up. STILL, he made me so protective over him, I finally understand how the entire Reboot casts feel about ZYL’s WX now.

Zhang Qiling/Men You Ping is still mysterious, indifferent; he’s very lost in life, has a goal but almost no will to live. Still OP af, but the WHUMP--so much ZQL whumps with bloody mouth, self-sacrificing tendency and everything. But he appreciates his experience more after knowing WX, like even without shipper eyes, you can tell he cares for WX--the first person who insisted to be his friend, who told him ‘I’d take care of you.’

I like drama MYP but, I completely fell in love with this angsty boy who needs some good sleep. Also probably bc of HIS DAMNED SMILES!! I’m a sucker for poker-face characters who can smile/laugh naturally. Bonus that he only did so with WX! Refer to ZQL smiling at Wu Xie.

I also dedicated an entire gifset on him because uhh I accidentally got attached?? LOOK AT HIM HE’S BEAUTIFUL

ANYWAY

Here is our favorite forced-to-cooperate gang again. Sadly, the Iron Triangle dynamic isn’t developed in here at all.

A-Ning has a bigger role than Pangzi, she’s still freaking competent, badass af, almost equal to ZQL. She is not so heartless at the end, obviously cares for her men, somewhat for WX. Seems to have a mild connection with ZQL over their fighting prowess LOL, and somehow bonds with PZ.

Pangzi is still comedic relief, unfortunately, has little motives and developments. His interactions with WX are hilarious though. They’re dorks together. Although, I found an easter egg: PZ wearing pot on his head again.

I appreciate the side characters in this movie a lot (especially Pan Zi with his kickass martial art). I think they made very badass tomb-raiding crews, both San Shu’s and A-Ning’s; it's clear that (some of) these men know what they were doing, and they aren’t afraid to die.

Also the props in here, holy cow, elaborated af. CGI is better than drama, but can always be improved...

BUT the time period is confusing as hell? This looks like old-school vibes, but they had incredibly high tech, drones and holograms? Uhh okay. Xie Yu Hua’s people used drones in The Lost Tomb 2, but this is a whole new level of sci-fi blue-screen computer stuff. And it’s probably very historically inaccurate, bc what queen back in the day had steampunk technology installed in her tomb?? The coiled machinery-ness bothers me. Ignore it if you can.

English is only better than The Lost Tomb 2’s English hahaha, but not so unbearable that I had to give up the movie. What hit me out of the left field is WX’s flute ability?? LMAO he pulled a Wei Wuxian bc what the heck? How does that even work? But I let it slide.

The plot is very basic: heroes go on quest, heroes face typical mastermind villain and powerful endgame monster. Featuring not-immoral-enough-to-destroy-humanity Hendrix, also known as, can’t-say-no-to-WX-baby-face Hendrix. And final boss: worms-queen with armors and tentacles and everything.

There are plot holes, but it’s an action movie, come on, nobody watches action movies for the plot.

But if you're a shipper, you should watch this movie for the SOFT AND WHOLESOME Pingxie content!

I didn’t expect it. I honestly didn’t watch the movie for Pingxie because I didn’t even ship Pingxie prior to this. I knew it existed, I liked the idea of it and I would read fic of it, but I didn’t feel a lot for it until now.

And then BAM, pokerface MYP with a very visible soft spot for WX? Hell yes. Worried and protective MYP who will catch WX when he falls? Also there.

MYP telling WX about his existential crisis of forgetting who he is? “If I totally lost myself one day, there’s still someone who would remember me.” WX insisting on being MYP's friends, and walking around recording memories for him with his little camera?“You won’t be lost.” YEP.

MYP and WX saving each other? “I said I’d take care of you.” Oh, for sure. Not to forget my standard for (b)romance: prolonged eye contact, smiles, so much smiles, and HANDS! They're all there!

Now, there are even more subtle things that told Pingxie’s story on a deeper level, which I talked about in continuation post 2/2 here.

Anyway, I know Time Raiders isn’t related to the main story aside from the characters and certain tropes. BUT as someone who just dipped their toes in DMBJ, out of everything I’ve seen--Lost Tomb 1, 2, Reboot, I’m in the middle of reading Book 3-- this installment is my favorite, barely beat out Lost Tomb 2 and only below the novel.

#dmbj #time raiders 2016 #the lost tomb reboot #the lost tomb 2 #pingxie #movie review #text post #long post #ranting bc i need to talk about this new obsession #mine #tr16 stuff #dmbj stuff

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written-prose-things · 4 years

Text

Divulge Your Secrets To Me, Starkson

Parkner Week 2020, Prompt 2: “And I said, ‘no’, you know, like a liar”

Available on: AO3

SUMMARY: Harley can’t stand Peter putting himself in danger constantly, so he puts on a suit. As, expected, Peter finds out his secret very quickly.

Although not easily visible, Harley doesn’t have better impulse control than Tony. Harley regularly spends consecutive days in his lab unless Peter is around to bully him into bed.

But Peter isn’t around always, not with his responsibility as a stupid teenage vigilante. Harley hates it. How he has to see his best friend get to work and handle shit that it way above his pay-grade, just because the avengers have gone rouge and Tony can’t handle everything on his own.

Harley lets his frustration spur him on, even though it’s 3 in the morning and he’s only had a few nutri-bars in the last six hours, with infinite cups of coffee.

Harley hates that Peter isn’t here to take him back to his room. He hates that his best friend has to go out even when he should be at home recovering from his last fight with some stupid evil scientist.

Harley finally puts down his interface and staring at the finalised schematics F.R.I.D.A.Y. complies and pulls up.

The design looks nice. It’s a sleek suit, much lighter than Tony’s suit, mostly to be used for canvassing and running disturbances.

The blue and gold colour is Harley’s favourite thing. A mix of Peter and Tony’s suits.

Then, he hears Tony’s thrusters outside and quickly packs up his work and heads to Tony’s landing point.

Tony’s carrying an injured Peter. Harley tries to hide his flinch, but Peter’s situation is not surprising. The idiot had gone into battle the newest threat, some weird insects that make out of the sewers, with recently fixed ribs.

Harley clenches his fist at his side. He feels helpless, unable to take care of his best friend and it hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

Tony nods at him in passing before walking down to the med-bay, to take care of Peter. Harley takes a few deep breaths and follows the pair after a moment.

----x----

Peter is sleeping, having been dosed with a strong mix of specially manufactured sleeping pills.

Harley takes Tony to the lab.

“I’ve done something.”

Tony quirks an eyebrow in mirth, “Oh, what have you fucked up now?”

Harley shakes his head, “This is serious, Tony.”

He pulls up the schematics. Tony stares at them for a moment before asking softly, “Let me guess, you haven’t told Peter?”

Harley doesn’t answer, which is an answer in and of itself.

Tony pulls up different screens to look at the subtler parts of the suit.

“It’s for running interference?”

Harley nods, “Small, compact, fast. I can distract whatever’s running around long enough for Pete to get back on his feet.”

Tony nods, “So, you aren’t going to focus on the feelings that are making you do this?”

Harley looks away, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tony huffs, “Alright, fine. I won’t tell Peter about this.”

---x----

Thankfully the new alerts they have come only after Peter has healed fully and had a few days of rest. Though close calls, Tony and Peter are able to get out of the situation with almost zero damage, Harley doesn’t go out to help them.

Then, a threat shows up, which is much worse than the worst Peter has tackled. Some sort of wizard magic voodoo cult that’s making buildings turn in on themselves.

Harley only waits for a moment after Tony and Peter have left, to suit up. He asks F.R.I.D.A.Y. to link him up to their comms and flies out.

The cultists send flattening waves of orange energy at whatever crosses their paths, making even humans look like characters from Minecraft.

Tony is tied up by a thick iron post on the corner of a crossing.

Tony tries to tie them up in his witty smart talk as Peter hides in the corner and webs up the different members who are standing a little further from the group.

Harley circles around the crossing where the cult leader is walking towards Tony calmly, his lack of emotion scares Harley more than his weird magic.

Peter yells into the comms, “Tony, there’s another suit here!”

Tony replies gruffly, between trying to distract the cult leader and break free of the iron post, “Yeah. Welcome the new avenger, kid.”

Peter has effectively neutralised all the other cultists. But he isn’t as discreet while trying to web up the leader.

The man turns around just as the web makes contact with his body. He grabs the web which is attached to his shoulder and pulls it clean off. The web has hardened by now and only Steve Rogers has been able to break out of the webs with his strength.

What the fuck kind of a man is this guy?

He emits a soft orange light and manipulates the web before Peter can let it go. Harley looks on in horror for a moment as the man uses the manipulated web to throw Peter into a wall.

Just as Peter gets thrown in the wall, Harley flies in and blasts a repulsor at the man. What happens next freaks Harley out.

The man keeps a hold on the web that’s holding Peter and turns his head around like an owl. He glares at Harley, who shoots repulsors at him, which bounce off a weird shield he puts up.

The man lets go of the web and turns to face Harley fully. Harley circles him, blasting repulsors at him, hoping to buy both Tony and Peter sometime.

But the man is quicker than Harley. He waves his hand around and makes sparks fly which throw Harley into the wall right next to Tony.

Harley only registers the fact that this new hole in the wall allows Tony to break free of the iron post.

Even keeping his eyes open hurts. Harley tries to get comfortable in the rubble best he can. The interface of the suit keeps flashing lights.

Almost everything in the suit is broken. Harley sighs sullenly. So much for helping Tony and Peter.

A thundering sound jolts Harley awake. When he’s aware enough to focus, Harley realises that the previously AWOL Thor is back.

The man starts throwing his hammer at the cult man, which actually starts to cause some damage.

Even though he’s failed, Harley breaths a sigh of relief. He’s about to close his eyes again when Peter crawls into his hole in the wall.

Peter asks softly, “Are you Harley?”

Harley groans internally. He couldn’t even make it one full day without being caught out.

He hopes that his voice interface is working well as he answers in the most confused voice he can manage, “No.”

Thankfully it works. Harley sounds more like a middle-aged suburban dad.

Peter shakes his head, “Nothing. Sorry, let’s get you out of here.”

Harley groans out loud then. God knows how many bones he’s just broken. This is beginning to feel like a comfortable place to spend the rest of his life.

Peter slowly helps him come out of the hole, carrying most of his body weight.

When they finally come out of the building’s side, the cult man is tied up in glowy magical ties and Thor is loudly and profusely apologising to Tony.

Peter softly asks him, “So, then what is your name?”

Harley doesn’t know how to answer that, but, unknowingly Thor comes to his rescue.

The god yells at him, “Oh, Tony you have a son! There now an Iron Lad. Congratulations Tony!”

Harley looks at Peter and replies with a fancy accent, “I’m Iron Lad, of course!”

Maybe it’s because of the mask, but Harley thinks that Peter doesn’t smile fully at his response.

---x---

When they reach the tower, F.R.I.D.A.Y. scans him from outside the suit. Harley tries to sell his need for a ‘secret-identity’ to them.

Peter nods shortly and walks out, giving an excuse about fixing his suit. Harley heaves a sigh of relief.

As soon as Peter is gone. Harley asks F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stop recording wherever he is till his suit is put away and to tell Peter that he’s sleeping in his room.

Then, Harley goes into the medbay, which is thankfully empty. He doesn’t have any broken or cracked bones, just a lot of cuts and lacerations across his body.

When he had been thrown into the building, he’d gone into the glass wall first, which had cracked into tiny chips that had entered his suit.

Even though Harley’s muscles ache, he likes how well his suit held out.

Harley’s in the middle of cleaning out his cuts when the door to the medbay opens without any warning.

He hisses in pain and looks up. Thankfully it’s just Thor, but Harley doesn’t trust the man to keep his mouth shut.

Thor starts the conversation, “I know you wanted solitude, however, I wanted to congratulate you on how protective you are of your beloved and how well you took care of him.”

Harley rolls his eyes, “Yeah, if you call him dragging me around good protection; then sure, I gave him the best protection.”

As the words leave Harley’s mouth, he realises what he’s admitted to. Harley adds uselessly, “But he’s not my beloved or anything like that.”

Thor chortles, “As you would call it, this is a lmao moment.”

Harley cringes, “Never say that again.”

Thor’s laughter dies down. He doesn’t speak again till Harley’s putting away the bottles of anti-septics and the cotton.

Thor comments rather seriously, “I know you are under a lot of pressure, Starkson, be assured that if you decide to open up to me, I wouldn’t divulge those secrets ever.”

Harley wants to make a snarky comment about not being Tony’s kid, but he grabs the opportunity. Thoe is serious enough to not make fun of him or say I told you so, unlike all his friends and Tony.

So, he starts from the beginning. The day he met Peter at the penthouse when they’d come together to get Tony out of his lab and make him feel better.

Something almost like guilt passes over Thor’s face at the revelation, which Harley files away for right now.

He tells the god about how he knew at that moment that Peter was going to be someone special for him.

---x---

Even though he’s been ranting for what feels like hours, Thor doesn’t seem bored. Maybe boredom becomes different when you’ve lived a thousand years.

Harley sighs and continues, they’ve reached the end of the story anyway. Harley continues pacing the medbay, his back to the door.

“So, he climbs in, and asks me, in his softest, introducing-myself-to-strangers kind of voice, ‘Are you Harley?’. Ughhh, man, I hated that. How is he so quick? And I said ‘no’, you know, like a liar...”

When Harley looks up, it’s to see Thor surprised and apprehensive face. Harley rolls his eyes, the last thing he needed right now.

And his gut feeling is right. Peter is standing in the door of the medbay, eyes flashing in anger.

Thor gives some excuse that Harley doesn’t even register, before booking it out of the room.

Peter walks forward, “What the fuck is this?”

Harley cringes internally. Hearing Peter swear is always uncomfortable, because even Peter’s discomfort is visible on his face.

Harley ignores the dread in the pit of his stomach and snarks back, “What the fuck is what?”

Peter motions to his body, “This. The cuts. Don’t act like you didn’t just lie to me.”

Harley clenches his jaw, “So what if I did?”

Peter shakes his head in anger, “We don’t do that, Harley! We don’t lie to each other-”

Harley interrupts because he isn’t taking the blame for this shit, “Oh really then tell me, what is it that we do? Am I always supposed to wait for you at the tower while you fight some weirdo and get hurt in the most horrible ways?”

Peter sighs and runs his hand eyes his eyes, “Nobody’s asking you to stay here Harley...”

Harley yells in reply, now he’s on a track, “Oh really? Peter look me in the eye and tell me that if I’d have told you, you wouldn’t have tried to bully me out of it. I need to protect you, Peter. I need-”

Peter snaps, “Oh shut up. You need this and you need that. What about what I need from you, huh? I need to keep you safe, you doofus. You’re not some enhanced person. I can walk away from being thrown head-first into a building,” he points at Harley’s bruises and cuts, “You can’t.”

Harley rolls his eyes, “Why do you need to take care of me, Peter?”

Peters huffs, “Because I love you, okay? I don’t care about anyone other than you, Tony, May and our friends. I know it’s sudden and I know it sounds crazy, but I love you. Again I can’t be the one who gets my family into trouble or gets them hurt again, okay?”

Harley thinks his heart is about to beat straight out of his chest, “Y-You love me?”

Peter sighs, “Yeah, I know it’s awkward, you don’t need to let me down or anything like that.”

Harley asks softly, “But what if I don’t let you down?”

Peter replies with a confused question, “What?”

Harley huffs, “Why are you so sure that I’m going to let you down?”

Peter flounders through a response and Harley can’t take it anymore. He removes the space between them with two swift steps and pulls Peter into himself, giving the short brown-haired boy a soft kiss.

Peter kisses him back.

They only let go of each other when Harley starts to lose his breath. Peter smiles like an idiot, but Harley isn’t sure that he’s not doing the same thing.

After a moment, Harley asks him. “Does this mean you won’t crib about me being in the suit anymore?”

Peter shakes his head, “Oh? Was this cribbing? You don’t know what you’re in for next.”

Harley groans, but pulls the shorter boy into his side, “Okay, I’ll listen to your lecture, but after a good night’s sleep.”

Peter nods, “Alright, let’s go.”

The pair make their way up to the penthouse and flop onto Harley’s bed together, fast asleep as soon as they hit the bed.

#parkner week 2020 #harley keener #iron lad #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #ironman #harley keener x peter parker #parkner

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janiedean · 5 years

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Hey Lavi, I never got around to reading Dante, but I studied Renaissance Florence and I saw someone in that long post mention that Dante seemed to have it in for Florence? Why is that, or was that a misreading? All I can recall of Florence’s flaws for the time were it’s reputation for gay guys and prostitutes (IIRC the German word for homosexual is derived from Florence :P)

ba… er, it’s not that he had it on florence, but like, people in that post (the not italian ones) have 100% Missed The Point, so I’ll go at it from the beginning. so, quote in question (I suppose):

he and his idol/mancrush, the famous poet Virgil, journey through Hell on behalf of his dead girlfriend and everyone who he didn’t like was there and suffered punishment for all eternity and then he blames three whole popes and the entire fucking city of Florence, Italy for the shitty state of the Church and over seven hundred years later it’s played a major influence in Western culture

now, never mind that ‘it’s played’ is dumb af because ITALIAN LANGUAGE WOULDN’T EXIST WITHOUT DANTE so it’s not played for shit, but like I’ll try to not touch all the other subjects regardless of how much my eyes are bleeding just reading this sentence.

the point is that he was permanently exiled from florence because of his political stances in which the church took part and that happened before the reinassance, which is like… long and complicate so I’m gonna make it very short and simplified sorry everyone but it’s not a thing you can dissect on tumblr properly. so, list:

florence at the end of the 13th century was a republic in the context of the rivalrly between guelfs and ghibellines, pls refer to that link for specific info but basically most of the politics in italy at that point where ‘there’s a bunch of separate small republics/states fighting each other and people tend to either stand with the pope [guelfs] or the emperor of the sacred roman empire [ghibellines]’, and in florence there had been a war in between the two factions that ended with the ghibellines being sent away from the city around 1289 if I’m not getting the year wrong, dante was a guelf and a nobleman and was directly involved in the city’s politics from then onwards until the aforementioned exile;

after then there was a further split in between the guelf faction ie one wanted the pope to be less involved and the other was more with sticking with him, and dante was in the first one;

now this is the point where I should tell you that the pope was boniface viii ie someone who has since then (and during that time) been wildly recognized as one of the worst people who ever had that job ever and whose papacy can be summed up in ‘trying to have both spiritual and temporal power in each single possible way in italy and outside it’ - pls read the entire article and get to the part where he had an entire feud with philip the ivth of france and ended with him getting slapped in the face in anagni -, and who dante saw as someone who had corrupted the catholic church and was fully not doing what his job entailed ie shepherding souls and not being an emperor;

tldr the white vs black guelfs feud ended up with the black guelfs winning and exiling the whites among which dante who therefore ended up exiled from his hometown for the entirety of his life later;

now the thing that those people don’t get is that to dante/people in his situation being involved in their hometown’s politics especially when being a public figure and so on was most of their life and they had an attachment to their city that was similar to what you’d have for your country since back in the day italy was barely a cultural unit and not a political one, like fighting for your city it wasn’t the same as fighting for your *hometown*, it was the same as your COUNTRY, which means that in his context being exiled from there meant leaving the country he was born in/that he loved/felt like he 100% belonged to and never come back, not just leaving one town and going to another. like, if someone told me I couldn’t ever go back to rome in my entire life but I could stay in naples I’d still be in the same country and as I’m italian first and everything else later I’d suffer but who cares, if someone said you have to leave italy and you can never come back I’d suffer a thousand times more because italy is my damned country and the place I was born in and in whose culture I partake/that I feel at home in, that was what it meant leaving florence to him;

now, his problem wasn’t with florence, his problem was with the people who threw him out and the system which allowed it and the catholic church which instead of worrying about religion worried about politics and mingling with them, which by the way is *exactly what the catholic church does here in italy to this day no more no less*, from then on nothing has changed, and he didn’t blame FLORENCE for the shitty state of the church as OP says, HE BLAMED THE CHURCH FOR THE SHITTY STATE OF FLORENCE AND THE ENTIRE COUNTRY, and guess what it’s been seven hundred years and counting and exactly nothing has changed, which means OP’s point even more dumb because dante saying that then and nothing having changed now should witness to the fact that he was only speaking sense;

like: dante had it in with corrupt popes who turned the church into a temporal power rather than stick with the spiritual because he thought that the temporal power didn’t belong to it, which is like… the principle of separation between state and church on which each single post-american revolution constitution has been founded on sure as hell he didn’t have it in for florence when he missed it for his entire life and wanted to go back more than anything and he couldn’t because he was exiled;

now, another thing that OP doesn’t get because lmao what is context: to catholics, the pope is technically infallible. like, if you’re a catholic You Cannot Criticize The Pope, period, so the fact that dante alighieri, A Catholic In The Middle Ages, puts not just one pope in HELL but more than one in a book/poem that he wants to sell as a revolutionary work (which he wanted to do or he wouldn’t have had vergil walking him through hell) is like… a level of disruptive revolutionary literary BDE that these people can’t even conceive, because it implied saying that the head of the church was wrong and calling him out of it. which, again, for a catholic, is basically the highest BDE level in existence. and guess what, Dante Was A Catholic But Not A Bigoted One As Much As These People ThinK;

also, never mind that the people he put in hell were also people he LIKED and most of the sympathetic characters are there, but tumblr doesn’t know that he put in purgatory manfred, the not legitimate son of frederick the second, who was excommunicated by the church, which I should hope anyone can guess the meaning of - like, excommunication is The Worst Thing The Church Can Do When It Comes To Catholics -, and he still put him in a position where he could be redeemed because he repented on his deathbed (according to dante’s rendition anyway), which means that he said someone the church had expelled for good from its ranks could still be redeemed and eventually go to heaven, which was basically telling them fuck you. same BDE.

now, that is the entire point of THAT SPECIFIC THING RE FLORENCE, but I’d like to state that the way I put it is the 0,5% of the entire problem which I can’t possibly summarize because in that book he comments on the status of things in the entire goddamned nation even if it wasn’t a nation politically at that point while mixing it with his philosophy treatise and his own search to have his faith and political ideals coexist while also discussing courtly poetry and changing his language based on the needs while using the same poetric meter that he invented/came up with and no one else could manage to use again after because it was too complicated, and while he does that he gives you a summary of the entirety of greek mythology figures that he incorporated in his work, a summary of the status of things in discussions of medieval theology and philosophy and on top of that there’s some expressions which are now staples of the italian language like we use them commonly and 80% of the time ppl don’t even know he came up with them.

and that still is a badly put summary of 20% of the basic things you find in the divine comedy as a whole because there’s more than that and there’s a reason why here in high school you study it for three years one cantica per year and it’s not even enough to barely scratch the surface. and that’s why those posts give me a damn aneurysm, because if you say that ^^^^^ above is fanfic sorry but I see red.

also sorry for going off like this but you went and pointed out the one thing that irked me most about that OP but I also didn’t want to reply directly because this discussion has given me metaphorical ulcers in the past plus gave me three days of feeling really fucking down (I don’t wanna use trigger but it was the closest thing I came to that in my entire life) and I’m done engaging with people who wouldn’t want to listen but eh. XDDDDD anyway sorry for the rant I hope it was exhaustive. XD

#dante alighieri #the divine comedy #at this point i'll tag bye #welcome to italy #mzyraj #ask post

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pettyprocrastination · 5 years

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I Don't Think We're On Earth-65 Anymore Cop!Frank Castle x Spider!Reader

@jarvis-ismy-copilot @wolfmothar @marvelobsessedteen @majorcdanvers

Summary: Matt and Jitterbug try to figure out a plan to get her back home. Matt learns about the version of himself in her dimension.

Chapter seven

“So you were shot into my dimension?” Matt asked, the Spider-Woman nodded and grabbed a cold slice of pizza.

“Robbery gone wrong.” She explained. “I was guarding a cop and it all went downhill from there.” Her thoughts drifted to Frank and her heart stung. He saw it all happen. What was he doing now? Was he looking for her? Was he mourning her? Or did he think she was dead, gone forever? “I've seen some high-tech weapons, but nothing like that before.” Once his friends left for the night Jitterbug and Matt sat in the living room and thought up a plan. The woman discarded her mask in favor of eating cold leftovers from his celebration.

Traveling through the multiverse takes a lot out of you.

“When you said my name, you froze.” Matt brought up the moment from before. “Why was that?”

She ran a hand over her face. She hadn’t known the man long, but from what she saw and heard from his friends through the door, he was a good man. A man with strong morals set deep in his faith, and judging by his sense of aesthetic, dramatics, and costume she was gonna take a shot in the dark and say he was catholic.

Easy to say he wasn’t going to take the news well.

“I was shocked is all. Matt from my dimension is no saint, but believe me when I say you're nothing like that crook.”

He raised his brows. “He’s a criminal?”

She thought about the last time she saw Matt in her dimension. He had no issues with taking heroes out and even tried to recruit her to work for him. When she told him to shove it their relationship had been less than civil. Last time she saw him the pair had been fighting and had it not been for her webs, she would've taken a one way ride onto the street beneath them.

“Criminal is putting it lightly, blind boy is the new kingpin.” She cringed. “Uh. No offense.”

“You're kidding me. I work for Kingpin?”

“Yeah, was the guy’s little pocket lawyer and everything.” She snagged another slice of pizza, not noticing the way Matt’s face twisted as she told him of his dimensional doppelganger. “You did his dirty work in the courtroom and on the street. When Fisk got put into jail Murderdock took over his crime enterprise to keep it going and make rich boy proud. I've had a run in with him more than once. Safe to say I'm not a fan.” Jitterbug stopped ranting and looked at Matt. He had gone pale, holding his head in his hands and ready to vomit.

“Shit, man.” Nice going dumbass, she chastised herself. You just gave your only way of getting home an existential crisis.

“No,” He stammered. “I wouldn’t. I’d never-”

“Hey don’t get too hung up on it man. That Matt? That isn’t you.” She kneeled at his side. “I've only known you for about three hours now, but believe me when I say you two are as different as night and day. Because you? You're good. You give a shit about people.” Her eyes drifted to his hair and she smiled. “Plus, you're not a ginger.”

He cracked a smile. “He’s a ginger? No wonder he’s evil.”

Jitterbug giggled. “Right? And he’s a total beanpole! I mean he’s a martial arts master and all but still a skinny white boy. You've got more of a-” She waved a hand through the air. “Scruffy charm.”

His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Scruffy charm? I’m not sure if I should be flattered by that.”

“Oh you should. It’s a very big accomplishment.”

The pair laughed for a moment, before Matt cleared his throat.

“I uh, I think I have an idea.”

“Do tell Murdock, because as of right now I've got zilch.”

“You said the guy must've bought the weapon, right?”

“Oh yeah.” She scoffed. “Believe me when I saw this guy wasn’t a rocket scientist.”

“Well there's someone here who sells weapons, I’ve crossed his path more than a few times now.” Matt explained. “Apparently he’s gone legit, but I’m sure he still had some contacts. And if the dimensions are associated with each other then-”

“Maybe he knows somebody who’s doing the same thing!” Jitterbug jumped out of her seat.

“My point exactly.”

“You're a genius Murdock!” She ruffled the man’s hair and grabbed her mask off the armrest. “Let’s go pay your buddy a visit.”

Woo! Anotha one. From now on I’ll be posting updates to this story every tuesday AND saturday! I had a lot of fun with this chapter because it’s really interesting to talk about Matt Murdock from Jitterbug’s universe which is aligned with the Spider-Gwen comics for the most part. (But frank doesn’t try to kill gwen in my version lmao) If you want me to expand/explain about matt from that universe i will happily do so! Just remember my inbox is always open for requests, friendly convo, and requests. I am ALWAYS happy to get more jitterbug questions, requests and headcanons! Yall know I never shut up about my girl lmao.

#frank castle #punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #punisher imagine #punisher x reader #the punisher #headcanons #x reader #writing #jitterbug #idtwoe65a

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rosalynbair · 6 years

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Euphoria | Part One

Kylo Ren x reader

Summary: You’re finally seeing the Knights of Ren live, the concert itself is everything that you could wish for, and more. Warnings: alcohol, nipple piercings?

A/N: Highkey I’ve been writing this for over two weeks and I told @kylo-renne that I would post this like, last Thursday yet here we are a week later finally posting the first half of this. Lmao, but thanks babe for putting up with my sporadic writing <3 | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee |

The bass blared into your ears, the screams of the people around you piercing through your euphoric moment of enjoying one of your favorite songs. The sweat – yours mixed with others dripped down your skin, your clothes clinging to the liquid.

Your hand was holding a red cup, the dark red liquid inside sloshing against the sides of the cup as your body moved in sync with the people around you. Your hips swayed in tune to the beat coming from the speakers on the stage, your head tilted back as you closed your eyes, hair hitting your bare shoulders with each move you made.

You felt someone press against you from behind, and you kept your movements the same, not letting anyone disrupt your moment. You tilted your head to the side, glancing the blonde man that rested his head on your shoulder before taking his hand that rested on your hip into yours, lifting it up so his arm was arched above you as you spun under it, giving him a closed lip smile as you looked at him from hooded eyes.

You give him a slow wink before ducking under another person’s flailing arms to slide closer to the stage. Your open hand reached down to pull your shorts out of their position they had around your thighs after riding up with your dancing. Your fingers grab a hold of your shirt, pulling it away from your skin, a blast of cold air hitting your skin as you waved the shirt against your torso to allow it to dry slightly.

Your eyeline comes up from your shirt to the floor of the stage, following the mass amount of wires that have been taped down with black and grey electrical tapes in a neat manner. The chords were the only organized thing on the stage, the five beings that were walking back and forth were anything but.

The Knights Of Ren.

They were the most known band on the rock scene right now, not quite mainstream, but the moment anyone heard their name, they immediately had an opinion of the band. Whether it was a rant about how they had loved the band before they became popular, or it was how much they were overrated, or how they were the best band they’ve ever heard, or, in most cases as of recently, how attractive x band member is.

Phasma, her blonde hair pulled back into a sloppy little ponytail, her biceps straining with the pressure of each hit to the drums in front of her. There was black eyeliner streaming down her sweat slicked face, her lips tilted up in a grin as she mouthed the words to the song. Her body was covered in a black muscle shirt, and even in the faint lighting of the strobe lights, you could see the sweat stains that had formed under her tattoo-covered arms. You could barely glimpse the black jean cut offs and her tattered grey converse from behind the drum set, but even still, you could admire the tap of her left foot, the multi coloured tattoos shining under the lights.

To the left of the stage in front of you was Drew, his cropped purple hair shining and clumping with the gel he had put into it. His arms were covered in a black paint that was beginning to melt off of him. His body clad in a simple black knee length overalls set, one shoulder hanging down his chest undone, revealing his chest tattoo and a nipple piercing. You watched as he stepped closer to the edge of the stage, hopping onto a small platform that was set up beside a speaker. You caught his eye as he leaned down and gave you a wink while his fingers plucked at the four strings on the bass he held.

Beside him, was Alex – the twin of Drew. Much the same except for the black mullet he supported on top of his head. He had tattoos trailing up his neck and a piercing on his eyebrow. He was much larger than Drew, muscles bulging as he lifted his guitar above his head, tilting his head back and sticking his forked tongue out of his mouth. He had no shirt on, and his tight abs were accentuated by the sweat and water that dripped off of him.

The other two were on the other side of the stage, but you were near the middle and could see them perfectly as your head tilted back, finishing the last of your alcohol, letting the cup fall to the floor beside you the moment it was empty.

You held the liquid in your mouth for a moment before swallowing, no longer phased by the sting of it trailing down your throat. Your eyes trailed over to the last two members of the band. Zandra, an ethereal beauty with dark skin and long hair. Her lips painted a shiny gold to match her combat boots and designs she painted on her hands. Her hips swayed as she sang into the microphone in front of her, the skirt she wore twirling around her thick thighs.

Her high voice blended with Kylo’s baritone rasp. Kylo – the reason the band had gained so much traction recently. His dark eyes captivated anyone who looked at him, pulled them in until he had them under his control. His plush lips that curled up into a smirk as he sang. He stood on a platform, his height of six foot five inches accentuated with his wide, muscular frame.

As a solo came from Zandra’s guitar, he stuck his tongue ring between his teeth as he grinned, reaching up to adjust the black septum hoop in his nose before trailing a finger through the dripping eyeliner, dragging it down his face to extend the black line.

He jumped down from the platform, releasing a long, low octave growl into his microphone. He knelt down, reaching out to the audience with his gloved hand. You watched in awe as his damp hair fell into his brooding eyes. Your eyes trailed down his shirtless body, his tight jeans falling low on his hips in his position. There was a glint of metal around his waist, and it wasn’t until he stood up once more that you saw a long chain wrapped around in his belt loops, two handcuffs hitting each of his thighs as he leaned forward.

He pulled the microphone away from his lips, curling his arms against his chest as Phasma began to hit the bass drum harder than before, the trail of the guitars fading as the crowd released a loud unanimous scream.

Kylo stomped his right foot hard onto the stage, bringing the microphone back up for a few moments to let out a loud, raspy scream before dropping the object onto the floor. Phasma’s hits became louder and louder, and Kylo began to nod his head along perfectly to each hit she gave, his hair following his movements drastically in long swishes. Falling in front of his face to obscure it each time before he moved his body back once more, his back arching as his hair fell behind him once more.

You couldn’t help but sway your hips once more, your movements timed to the beat you knew so well. Your hair hit your shoulders each time you nodded your head, the balls of your feet supporting your weight as you bounced onto them.

From beside you, you heard someone scream that they loved Kylo. The high pitched announcement reached his ears and he looked down into the crowd, seeing your dance, your hair bouncing and swaying around your face. He releases a sly grin, and you don’t catch the look he gives you as his eyes find the swell of your breasts that was showing off more as your shirt fell off one of your shoulders. The sweat soaked fabric clinging to your skin, and he sees the soft outline of two nipple piercings.

The final sound of drums fades from your ears, and you release a laugh and a yell with the rest of the crowd. Kylo bends down, grabbing the microphone he had dropped. He brings it close to his lips.

“Now.” He purrs into the mic, his voice echoing out of the speakers and monitors. “We can’t play for you much longer.”

A loud protest comes from the people around you.

“I’d love to stay here forever with you.” He chuckles “But we’d get arrested for trespassing and reckless behaviour – and our manager says we can’t get arrested again.”

You let out a laugh, smiling up at the man who stood above you. You vaguely remembered Kylo and Alex getting arrested a few months ago for damaging a venue when they tried to kick the band out before their set was over.

“Now this last song-“ He laughs at the cries of protest that he’s drowned in. “This, is one you all know. You know I wrote this with my girlfriend for the new album.”

You nod, hearing the small beginnings of Alex’s bass, Drew and Zandra joining in with a low pitched string of notes. Phasma begins a quiet thud of the bass, her stick hitting the snares gently in a rolling pace.

“Lysandra is off singing a duet with someone else.” Kylo says into the mic that he places into the stand. “So I’m going to need you to sing her parts for me.”

The crowd releases it’s excitement, the groupies knowing immediately that Kylo was once more on the market. Zandra’s acoustic guitar faded and Drew picked up on the notes that followed as she set the guitar down and grabbed the double necked electric that she cherished.

Kylo nods his head, holding the microphone between both of his large hands. “Come with me to the other side – leave the pain of this world behind.”

Your body sways once more, watching as Kylo leaned forward, cupping a hand around his ear.

“For whatever you decide – you’re wrong – I’ll be your bonfire.” The crowd sang back to him, and you see his lips tilt up into a rare, genuine smile.

Kylo lets out a growl, grabbing the mic from the stand and jumps onto the platform, jumping in a circle as the beat suddenly picked up. Zandra and Alex banging their heads along with the drums behind them as their fingers slid up and down the necks of their guitars, fingers plucking at the strings.

The words are repeated once more, Kylo singing with the mic pointed towards the crowd. You gladly sang along, your voice melding with those around you. Even without the mic, you could hear Kylo’s voice clearly above the rest.

You let out a yelp as Kylo jumped from the platform, clearing the rest of the stage and landing between the stage and barrier – right in front of you. His eyes rake down your body, your thighs bare to his gaze. He gives you a smirk before turning left, his hand grabbing some of those that reached for him, leaning into some of the girls as he gave them false hope of wanting them.

He walked back and forth twice, his voice loud in your ears each time he passed you. “I can see my grin in the reflection of the blade and feel confidence -And joy 'cause the decision now is made” When he tilted the mic to the crowd, he stopped in front of you, his arm reaching past the barrier to snake around your waist, pinning you to the cold metal of the fence. “The steel is cold and brings a stream over my skin, open up this Empty shell and free the icebound soul within” he sings hoarsely to you, staring down at your small frame in his arm. “Why don't you” you say back to him, voice no longer in tune as you spoke the following words of the bridge to him.

“Come with me to the other side.” He sings back. “Leave the pain of this world behind.”

Your body is frozen as he leans towards you, saying the last few words of the chorus before the band took over for their solos, his body hunched awkwardly to place his face at the same level as yours. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He mummers, seeing your shocked nod before he leans in – his nose hits your cheek as he tilts his head.

His lips are soft, although a bit chapped against yours. Kylo’s lips move against yours, opening your mouth to slide his tongue against your teeth. You can taste the lemon flavoured lozenge he had sucked on throughout the show, and the sweat that had gathered around his mouth was salty against your taste buds.

Your soft moan is music to his ears, and he’d be grateful if that were the only sound he would ever be able to hear again. You hear his chuckle as he pulls your lip between his teeth, he releases it as he stands to his full height, a small mewl leaving your throat from the loss of contact.

It’s only a moment later that a blush takes over your cheeks at the realization of what had occurred. The people around you were screaming, begging for a chance to kiss Kylo Ren. He gives you a wink before setting the mic on the stage, bracing his hands against the platform before hopping back on with an easy adjustment of his weight.

His voice fills your ears once more, finishing the last few verses of the song as you continue to dance in the small space you had claimed for yourself.

When the final notes of the song played their course and faded into the speakers, you closed your eyes for a moment, basking once more in the atmosphere of the concert high.

Your eyes open once more, and the swell of people around you began to dwindle as Kylo said thank you to the crowd. You smile, bending to pick up the cup you had dropped to the floor. You turn away from the stage once the cup was in your hand, and you move with the crowd towards the only exit.

The cold air of the late spring night hits your skin, causing you to shiver when there was no one left around you. Everyone who was leaving the venue was dispersing in different directions, though most were heading towards the train station a few blocks away.

You head into the small alley beside the venue, finding the dumpster and tossing your cup into it.

“Model citizen, aren’t you?” A voice comes from behind you.

You turn, brows furrowed as you catch the bright orange tip of a cigarette. “I don’t want to just leave my trash around.” You reply, following the pale fingers up the man’s arm to his bare neck and face.

“Shouldn’t you be heading home?” He asks, and you hear him take a long drag of the cigarette.

“I’m about to.” You say, beginning to turn back to the street.

“Why don’t you stay?” He asks.

“I have things to do.” You mutter, beginning to walk back to the well lit street.

“Stay.” He insists. “I can let you in to see the band.”

“I don’t want to see the band.” You snap, your shoes echoing loudly off the brick walls.

“That hurts.” A second voice laughs, the deep voice surrounding you like a warm blanket. You glance over, seeing a metal door being held open by Kylo Ren himself.

Tag List: @kylo-renne @kylokiwi @supremeleaderdaddy @velourpunk @casshmerekitty @buckyslittlekitten @ben-solo @lumifuer @secretlygrantaire @sdavid09 @imagine-this-motherfucker

#kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x you #kylo imagine #band au #star wars imagine #phasma imagine #captain phasma imagine #modern kylo ren #modern au #knights of ren #rosalynbair #useremm

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1800-seungshine · 7 years

Text

i’m serious.

member: ong seongwoo genre(s): fluff, romance, college!au summary: there are numerous perks of being his teasing, mischievous self but one disadvantage? he can’t seriously say how he truly likes you. (bullet point format) word count: 1.9k

note: ok so this is not a requested scenario but rather something my mind has been bothering me about for a long time and i need to dump it somewhere or else i can’t do anything else lmao. lowkey inspired by one of my favourite songs (click here) bc day6 songs are life and need more love and attention < 3

p.s. i’m sorry if i haven’t posted a scenario recently, i got sick and while laying in bed watching wanna one videos is fun, not writing bc of a constant headache that made me take so many naps (which i don’t really regret ehehe) made me sad :’((

ong seongwoo

first thing people think of is his good looks

i mean just take a look at his face

one smile and congratulations! you just turned into a puddle

but y’all srsly do you even know how good looking he is like oh my god

the next thing people remember is his lit ass humour

he’s the funniest guy you’ve ever seen

besides, his humour was why you both got closer

you weren’t necessarily the most social person in the world

but he was

and it was that one class that you shared together where everyone knows who he is

yet somehow he takes the seat right next to you

“the other seats weren’t appealing enough. someone with looks as good as mine needs a chair that represents his shining visuals.”

ok first of all,,,

what a c0cky hoe

usually guys who say such pretentious things would have met your fist but there was something different about him

and achievement unlocked! ong seongwoo made you laugh

might not be a big deal to other people but your laugh indicated a lot more to him

bc if he can make you laugh in one go you’re instantly his friend

hence the beginning of your blooming friendship

eventually you ended up looking forward to that class bc seongwoo was there

even if he did distract you all the time by pulling weird ass faces

and whispering jokes to make you laugh

but that was the joy of befriending a guy like him

really, it wasn’t that hard for you to get along with seongwoo

so what was simple class interactions became lunch hangouts to study sessions and everything in between

you two matched each other really well

you always laugh at his jokes

he drags you to his adventures

you have a sense of humour that blended with his

he has the funniest memes to combat your savage remarks

you would always help him when it came to anything

and he knows how to instantly cheer you up

your best friend has to grab ice cream before she can hear you rant

yet when it came to seongwoo all it took was one mobile phone and fingers rapidly typing in allcaps to emphasise the anger in your body

and you’d feel a million times better bc he had the funniest replies that makes you happier than eating your favourite flavour of ice cream

so is ong snatching the best friend title??

yeah probably

and while you two may consider yourselves as close friends

it doesn’t seem to be that way to the eyes of others

the amount of times you and seongwoo have been assumed as a couple became so endless to the point where you two gave up on counting

and seongwoo being the prick he is eventually played along to people’s assumptions by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “come on babe, i don’t want you falling for other guys.” he’d teasingly say, sending a cheeky wink before he’d drag you elsewhere

he does it anywhere, no matter who you two were with, just to tease you

you: you’re such a little prick, ong - i’m gonna end up jumped on by your admirers >:(

seongwoo: whoops my bad ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

you: smh you’re deleted bye. i hate you so much-

seongwoo: love you too y/n ;)

the closeness of your friendship was so tight that it was ultimately questioned by everyone else

and kang daniel were one of the few who had enough of simply pondering and presuming so he bluntly asked you when he invited you to sit with him for lunch one day

“y/n....are you dating seongwoo hyung?”

you were about to spit the water you were drinking at him bc of the sudden topic but you hurriedly gulped the water down, lightly choking along the way

“is this a new approach on conversation starters?” you asked after having a coughing fit, “because i’m rating it a zero.”

“no, i’m genuinely asking; nearly everyone on campus think that you two have something going on and i can see why they think that way.” daniel pointed out.

you let out a seemingly forced chuckle as your eyes land on seongwoo who stood across the vicinity, surrounded by swarms of girls

seeing the sight of seongwoo smiling and laughing with other girls, you pushed the giddy feelings aside by instantly shooting it down with your denial before you discreetly point at him

“turn around,” you told daniel who obediently followed your instruction to observe his best friend for a minute before his attention returned to you

“see? ong treats me like that too, there’s nothing special - we’re just friends.”

you took your gaze away from seongwoo to get rid of the sudden heaviness in your heart and met with daniel’s confused expression as he scratched his head.

“really...? but it doesn’t seem that way to me though.... i’ve known seongwoo for a long time and the way he treats you is different. for me at least.”

“daniel, what are you talking about?”

“ah, forget it.” daniel remarked as he ruffled his hair, mumbling a little to himself before digging into his food, “hopefully you figure it out.”

time skip bloop bloop

“hey, seongwoo!”

a voice calls out to him and quickly he spins around, hoping that you’d be there

even if he already knew from the start that the voice didn’t resemble yours, disappointment still washes over him as he realises that it wasn’t you

but rather it was your best friend approaching him

“y/n doesn’t feel well so she can’t come to today’s lecture but can you please take notes for her?”

(ngl i got inspired by my flu and overall inability to properly breathe)

the neutral expression on his face is visibly replaced with worry, “is she okay? what happened?”

“she just needs to rest - i have to go now, my class is starting soon.”

“wait!” “the passcode’s 0000. bye seongwoo!”

seongwoo furrows his brows together in confusion, “how did she know i was going to ask that...?”

meanwhile you were casually dying on the sofa with multiple blankets wrapped around you

your best friend was the one who got you in the living room in the first place as you couldn’t get up in the morning

and before she could leave for her classes, she forced you to eat and made sure that you drink medicine

(#bffgoals)

now you’re just cuddling a tissue box as you try to watch television

but there’s a sudden knock on the door and you hear the door opening

believing your best friend came back, you rise from your resting position, “oh why are you back so earl-” you abruptly end your sentence as you see who came entered in

“seongwoo...?”

“you look like a sad burrito.”

“i’m going to take that as a compliment,” you say with a sniffle, “what are you doing here?”

he simply lifts up the plastic bags he’s been holding, “i’m here to take care of you, what else?”

“don’t you have other classes to attend?”

seongwoo places the bags on the table, gently pushing you back down on the sofa as he kneels beside you

“first class was our lecture so i took notes and left as soon as it finished,” you watch him speak as his hand reaches out to touch your forehead, letting it sit there for a few seconds, “you have a slight fever...”

you remain silent as you observe his face at a closer glance; your gaze travelling from his eyes, his nose, the constellation moles adorning his face and down to his lips before you find yourself looking back at those dark brown eyes staring right at you

and suddenly you’re unable to breathe even more than your current condition was letting you.

bc in that moment, you finally accepted how much you liked seongwoo

that it wasn’t even out of friendship anymore

and knowing that you got caught, you begin to hide under the covers from embarrassment as you try to calm your palpitating heart

“oh my god, ong get out.”

“but i just came??”

“i’m just sick, this is nothing - i’m fine. my heart’s fine.” you ignore the fact that seongwoo’s presence still remains in the room as you talk to yourself under the blankets

until he pulls it away from you and your eyes immediately land on the person you last wanted to see that day

“what? are you okay, y/n?”

you grab the blankets once again and hide yourself from him, “no i’m not okay. i practically look and sound dead, don’t do this to me”

“do what? we’re both dead inside- come on, just look at me and tell me what’s wrong.”

“no thank you. i already caught the flu, i don’t need a broken heart.”

“and what makes you think that way?”

words fail to escape your mouth as you’re unable to reply and you both fall into complete silence

seongwoo takes this opportunity to hold onto the blankets and gently pull it away from you, “what makes you think you’ll have a broken heart?” he questions

although you’ve seen his serious side a number of times, it still sends chills down your spine

because you know that this time he isn’t kidding

you finally sit up curling into a ball, “because i’m just a friend - nothing more, nothing less.”

you feel him sitting down beside you and you avoid his stare as much as possible by looking at the television that became a mere background music since seongwoo’s arrival

his soft chuckle rings sweetly into your ear, “what’s so funny? did you just think of a weird joke in your head again?” you casually ask, pretending like nothing happened a few minutes ago.

“it’s funny because i don’t treat friends with coffee every morning.

i don’t spend money to go cinemas just to watch a movie with friends, especially when there’s just two of us

i also don’t think i’d spend fifty bucks in an arcade to cheer up a friend

nor do i send my friends pick up lines to brighten their day

and of course, i don’t ditch daniel for friends.

so if i ditch daniel for you then you’re very special to me - a lot more special than daniel himself and that’s a lot for me to say because that guy is like my brotp,, my soulmate even.”

after his words sink into your head, you realise that everything seongwoo has listed

he’s done them for you

“so how many times have you ditched daniel?” you ask as you turn your head to him, instantly caught in his stare as you realise that he had been staring at you this entire time.

“never.” he starts off, “but for you? countless of times.”

you feel your cheeks heat up and you were sure that it wasn’t your fever acting up, “i hate you, ong. do you know that?” you tell him.

you hated him because of what he was doing to you.

you hated him because of what you were feeling towards him

you hated him because you were falling for him

and you hated him because of the next words he says

“i love you too, y/n.” he simply says as his lips curve upwards into a heartwarming smile as his gaze never leave you

“and this time, i’m serious.”

#ong seongwoo #seongwoo #ong seongwoo scenarios #wanna one #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenarios #ong seongwu #seongwu #seongwoo scenarios #seongwoo imagines #pd101 season 2 #produce 101

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spacednp · 7 years

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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