#turning off notifications bc some of you are freaks... but I will be checking in to do a blocking spree later | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bradshawsweetheart · 2 years ago

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Getting this notification literally made me squeal LMFAO omg

I’m about to give you my play by play rn

The arm that she grabbed, the one that she’s hooked hers into all summer long during games of Red Rover, came clean off his body. It made a sound--something akin to a pop and similar to a squelch--and then she was holding Bob’s arm and Bob’s body was not attached to it.

I audibly gasped and yelled ‘what the fuck’ at this btw

“You’re freaking my Jake out, too.”

Giggled at this in the midst of the horror sorry

Fanboy finally comes closer and falls to his knees. He’s trembling when you roughly grab his wrists and force his hands over Bob’s wounds. It’s a feeling that Mickey immediately knows he will never forget: the hot, torn flesh of one of his best friends right there in the palms of his hands.

Jesus H Christ, what a visual. God. Our poor daggers.

“What are we gonna do?” Jake whispers. … “Survive,” you tell him.

It’s giving Joel Miller. I’m a huge fan of this line.

“Look, we all know how much you love Scooby Doo, but this isn’t Mystery Inc., alright? This is real fucking life and Bob is really fucking hurt and we’re fucking stuck here,” Bradley spits.

Baby pls be nice to Javy he didn’t do anything wrong😭

He didn’t hesitate at all. He held onto Bob’s arm, checked his pulse, didn’t gag. He handed you the right items when you called for them--gauze, tape, cotton, syringe, alcohol. After everything you did last night, the love that he shared with you and the body you shared with him, and this is where you are now. Those big, brown eyes pouring into yours, lips twisted in exhaustion, blood thick on his hands and arms. … Head-to-toe, you’re covered in blood. Bradley’s sure you probably have some in your teeth, too, after the night you’ve had. But here you are all the same, beautiful and looking at him gently.

The contrast between this and Jake having to turn his back to all that’s happening because of his thing with blood is very personal to me. It’s showing Gale who can actually hang, given all that she does, and how she wouldn’t have to keep a huge part of herself from Bradley compared to Jake, for his sake, and I love this so so much.

“He’ll be arlight,” Bradley whispers to you. “It’s Bob. Bob can’t die.”

Millothy I am watching you.

“Listen, we aren’t gonna die,” Bradley says, sighing. “Two bad things happened, okay? And whoever or, like, whatever did ‘em couldn’t even finish the job. So, I’d say we’re gonna be fine.”

I know this isn’t the case but just imagining the reason no one’s been killed yet bc it’s that freak Mable bc she’s lost her marbles or something is hilarious (and by that I mean incredibly disturbing)

Jake baby I love you but saying this when you can’t even face everyone is wild LOL

“I’m willing to bet there’s one fucking freak out there, alright? And one fucking freak isn’t gonna herd us into the fucking mess hall, are they?”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Payback says. “We’re fucked, man.” … “Stop saying we’re fucked,” Coyote says.

“What about Paul?” Bradley asks.

That man is dead as hell, baby.

It bothers her because she knows it would bother him--being so entirely covered in grime. He’s the cleanest person she knows.

Because he always smells like a freshly washed baby.

All the tired are slashed. Whoever is at Camp Arcadia was here, too. Maybe standing right where Bradley and Jake are now.

Mable………….. I’m onto you.

“Grow the fuck up,” Bradley spits.

I agree, baby. I agree.

And that’s when Bradley hears it--very faint, like it was supposed to be a secret. The clicking of the safety on the shotgun.

GIRL WTF

“She really goes electric when you kiss her thighs,” Bradley says, the hint of a smirk tugging on his lips. “But you already knew that, right?”

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

“Lay a hand on me again and you’re gonna live to regret it, you fucking pussy.”

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGGG

“Nothing to say, you fucking bitch?” Bradley whispers. “Still thinking about Gale riding my cock last night? I know I am.”

THE GASP I JUST GUSPED BIIIIIIIIIITCH

“Fuck,” Jake whispers. “It’s a Swiss army knife.”

GIRL. IM SO FUCKING

♀ 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

♀ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐞) 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 ♀ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: No one knows what to do. ♀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.1k ♀ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭--𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. ♀ 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♀ 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 ♀ 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐎𝐚𝐤𝐬, 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕

“What the fuck do you mean?” You spit.

It isn’t even that you’re trying to be vicious, even when you’re spewing the words at Phoenix as you wrench her wet hands away from your cheeks. Your face is hot from her touch, from the blood rushing up, up, up your throat and into your cheeks.

Phoenix blinks at you, the tips of her fingers numb and her eyes full of salt. She stutters, tries to speak, chokes on her spit, then falters--running her hands down her face as she whimpers softly.

“What’s going on?” Bradley asks, flushed at the thought of Phoenix walking in on the two of you after doing something so intimate. Instinctively, he wraps an arm around you, eyes flickering to the blankets to make sure you’re covered decently enough. You’re rigid in his arms. “What’d you say, Nix? Birdie--what’d she say?”

“She said she thinks Bob is dead,” you say, brows furrowed.

There’s an edge to your tone--a hard, hard edge. And as you rip the blankets off, exposing your naked body to Phoenix and Bradley and the cool night air, you move with a distinct sense of purpose and poise. You fall into this rigidness easily at the scent or sight of blood, at the scent or sight of vomit, at the sound of crying or screaming.

You’re foggy, but something is undeniably wrong. Phoenix doesn’t get shaken up, nor does she pull pranks the way Coyote and Hangman do. She’s covered in blood and it’s real blood that has left wide and wet handprints on your cheeks.

Something’s very, very wrong at Camp Arcadia.

Bradley starts to scramble, pulling the sheets around himself as he gets on his feet, his mouth ajar and his heart racing.

Phoenix is just watching the two of you in a state of dysphoria. She hasn’t been able to feel any part of her body since she found Bob by the water.

At first, when she realized that Bob had gone to the restroom over thirty minutes ago and not come back, she’d felt a prickle of panic at the base of her spine. But then when she found his crumpled form face down in the mud by the water, she was so chock-full of panic that it nearly burst out of her in one choking scream. But instead, she’d fallen to her knees in her pajamas, grabbing onto Bob’s arm to pull him up.

And that’s when something peculiar happened.

There were a few moments where she scrambled in the dark, too scared to scream and too horrified to leave Bob there alone. He didn’t stir when she fell backwards against the mud and he didn’t stir when she looked in the lantern light with her eyes wide and crying and found that the mud was a puddle of his blood.

Now she doesn’t know what to do except watch you.

Bradley is just standing still beside the bed, still blinking himself awake in the dark as you and Phoenix look at each other.

Part of him wants to hold his hands up, call a timeout, and ask what the fuck is going on.

But the other part of him is watching how diligently, how resolutely you’re readying yourself to head outside. He can imagine you in the hospital when you’re like this: all furrowed brow and flat lips, edged tone. It’s a stark contrast from you only a little while ago: soft curves, breathy moans, whispered voice, open-mouth smiles.

“You need to show me where Bob is,” you tell her very seriously, slipping into a random white blouse and stepping into your dungarees. “Is it his blood?”

“Yes,” Phoenix manages to utter. “It--I was pulling on his arm and then it-it…I couldn’t get it to…”

You pause, bent at the hips as you slip your socks on. You look her in the eyes, straining in the dark, and nod at her.

“You’re alright,” you tell her. “Sit down.”

And because she doesn’t know what else to do or how to tell you that she pulled an arm off her best friend, her Bob, she just sits right where she is. She has the obedience of a Golden Retriever right now--keen to just watch you, listen to you, obey you.

“I’ll go check it out,” Bradley says softly, moving to grab his crumpled clothing.

“No. I’m going,” you tell him, hooking your dungarees and stuffing your feet into your tennis shoes. “Go wake the others. Have Jake get the shotgun and stay with all the campers.”

And just like that you’re leaning down and grabbing the emergency flashlight you keep beside the dinky dresser, then stepping out into the night. Phoenix and Rooster look at each other, dumbfounded. She’s sitting on the floor covered in Bob’s blood and he’s still naked except for a sheet.

“What happened?” He asks cautiously.

All the other nurses at the hospital like to tease that you wear horse-blinders in emergencies. You see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing when you’re working if it has zilch to do with your current task. You hear doctors ordering epi and heart monitors crooning, but you don’t hear the squeak of your tennis shoes on the tile or the music playing at the nurse’s station down the hall.

Right now, you don’t hear the crickets and cicadas nor the owls or the wind through the oak trees that surround you. You don’t see the moonlight reflecting off the lake so perfectly that the water appears black and white--serene. You don’t hear gravel crunching under your soles and you don’t hear the buzzing of the flashlight. You don’t see the fireflies or the open door to the latrine.

“Bob!” You yell--your voice echoes across the entirety of camp. It’s so loud, so booming, that across the lake a few bats fly out of the trees and haphazardly flap around. “Bob!”

There is no response.

Jake wakes up to the sound of your voice--Bob! Bob! Bob! He sits up slowly in his cot, still dizzy from nearly fainting a few hours ago. It’s so dark in the cabin that he has to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust--and when they do adjust, he sees Coyote swinging his legs out the side of his cot and peering out the window.

“That Gale?” Coyote asks, voice drenched in fatigue. “Christ, what could that girl be screaming about at four in the motherfucking morning?”

“That’s a bad word,” Martha says, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “Who’s screaming? Is something the matter?”

Jake sits up--a pit in his stomach.

“Nah,” Coyote answers, standing up. “We’re all good, Martha. Go back to sleep, alright? We’ll check it out.”

Coyote yawns again, glancing at Jake.

A look of deep, deep concern is etched on Jake’s features. He doesn’t like the tone of your voice--the way it’s so loud and serious. It sears his eardrums.

“The fuck happened to Bob?” Jake mutters to Coyote, standing also.

But before Coyote can answer, Rooster is pounding on their door. Not a regular, casual knock. Not even an asshole-ish get fucked knock. It’s panicked and severe. Coyote can’t get the door open fast enough.

“Cheese and rice, man! Trying to wake all my campers?” Coyote asks, wrenching the door open.

Rooster can hardly breathe from running so fast to your cabin. Phoenix’s story is still ringing in his ears, everything else in the world muted and dull.

“Jake, get the gun,” Rooster says immediately, not even taking the time to step into the cabin. “Gather all the kids--all of them--and put them in the mess hall, alright? And don’t-don’t fucking leave ‘em, alright? Stay with ‘em. Coyote, Gale needs our help.”

“What happened to Gale?” Jake asks, voice hard and brows furrowed.

Rooster doesn’t answer--his mind is racing, spinning, crashing, burning.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Coyote says, holding his palms up, glancing over his shoulder at all his campers rustling themselves awake and sitting up with wide-eyes and wicked bed head. “The Hell’re you doing, man? You’re freakin’ the kids out.”

Rooster swallows hard--is throat is warm and thick with bile that he keeps swallowing down.

“Bob’s in a bad way, man. And it wasn’t no accident either.”

“Hey. How do we know that, huh?” Coyote warns, shaking his head. He’s never been one to fall into his role in mass hysteria. His voice is even and deep even though his heart is starting to pound. He glances back at Jake--who is wide-eyed and staring at Rooster with his face entirely paled. “You’re freaking my Jake out, too.”

Rooster swallows hard, ignores Coyote.

He looks Jake in the eyes--really, truly looks him in the eyes. Man-to-man. Man-to-whatever-the fuck-Jake-thinks-Bradley-is.

“Get the gun.”

And with that, Rooster’s off. He’s racing towards his cabin with all the littles there--all the littles he left behind, all alone, totally defenseless. There’s a rock in his gut, one that is sinking further and further until he feels like he’s running with led shoes on.

He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for or what he’s about to run into when he opens the door to his cabin. He doesn't know what he’s going to do if he finds all his campers slashed--if they didn’t have him there to protect them from whatever, from whoever, hurt Bob.

“Hey!” Rooster screams as he opens the cabin door.

There’s no thick scent of blood. There’s not a single camper with so much as a scratch. They’re all there, awake, huddled together like little chicks in the corner.

“Is Mister Bob okay?” Susie asks softly.

Bradley, standing opposite them with his chest heaving and his eyes wet, swallows hard.

“We’ve gotta get outta here, chicks,” Rooster says. “Grab your blankies and line up pronto.”

When the bright white beam of your flashlight slices through the night and lands on Bob, you break out in a sprint. His form is crumpled--he looks like a pile of stained laundry. You feel like your feet aren’t moving fast enough, like your flashlight isn’t bright enough.

But almost instantaneously, you’re on your knees beside Bob in the bloodied mud, pressing two of your fingers to his throat. You have a hard time at it--all the hot blood making his smooth skin slippery.

“Bob, it’s Nightingale,” you say calmly. “I’m just gonna feel for a pulse, alright, buddy? Just hold still.”

He doesn’t so much as twitch.

For the first time tonight, your heart sinks. A thought flashes across the forefront of your brain, caressing the backs of your aching eyeballs, settling somewhere between your brain and your skull: I didn’t have a nightmare and then someone died. No, not someone. Bob. Bob died.

But then the thought is gone, dead, faded when you feel it against your two fingers: a pulse, right on his jugular where it should be. Not strong, but nothing he can’t come back from.

“Oh, good. Good job, Bob. Good, good,” you whisper softly to Bob. Your heart is swollen suddenly, which usually doesn’t happen to you during triage. But you’ve never worked on Bob before. You’ve never worked on anyone you love before. And there’s no doctor here to order you around, to tell you what to do next. Fuck. “Hey! I need help!”

With the flashlight tucked between your knees, Bob’s form all shadows and blood and placid skin, you begin to inspect the bloodied stump where is arm once was. It’s a clean cut, one solid hack straight through the flesh and fat and veins and bone. Blood is pouring out of the wound and pooling around your bent legs.

He’s so heaped up that you cannot see his face at all--just bits of pale skin here and there, scraps of his shirt and his broken glasses. So, you very carefully but firmly hold onto both his cheeks and turn his face towards you. He’s covered in mud, bits of blood.

“I’m going to clear your airways,” you tell him. His eyelids twitch. You stick your fingers into his mouth, hook them, and scrape all the mud off his tongue. The breaths puffing from his nose are short and labored. “Good job. Good, good job.”

You hear a noise--running on gravel--and don’t turn to see who it is.

“Oh my fucking God!” Fanboy shrieks, stopping dead in his tracks.

Paybacks stops, too, his mouth wide open and his eyes glassy.

“Fuck,” Payback whispers, blinking rapidly as you press your bare hands to Bob’s wound and press down hard. He bends over, holding onto his knees, and reels as his head spins. “I’m gonna hurl.”

Snapping to attention, you glance over at them. In the thin beam of their flashlight, you almost look monstrous. There’s blood all over you, two handprints on your cheeks like war paint, and your face is serious and hard.

“I need a belt,” you tell them. Then you swallow hard, shaking your head. No one’s gonna have a belt. Everyone packs shorts and t-shirts. “I need--I need something, alright? I need one of you to go and look for something that we can tie around his arm.”

Fanboy has gone pale. Payback’s eyes are shut tight.

“His fucking arm’s gone,” Fanboy says softly, brown eyes wide. “His fucking--his fucking arm is gone, man!”

Your heart is hammering in your chest as more blood pours down your arms.

Scrambling for something, anything, you hold tight to Bob’s already-torn shirt and rip until a jagged shred comes off into your hands.

“I need help,” you tell the two men still staring at you. Behind them, the camp is starting to come alive with alarm. Campers hurrying with their counselors into the mess hall, counselors running around doing headcounts and carrying lanterns and flashlights. “Like, now!”

You make very quick work of tying a tourniquet around Bob’s wound, just above the cut. You pull the t-shirt so tight that it begins to rip again. The blood is already slowing--thank fucking God.

“What the fuck happened?” Fanboy mutters to you.

“Someone cut his fucking arm off, man!” Payback calls out, spitting into the dirt when his mouth fills with water. “Oh--oh, God…do you think they’re coming back?”

Fanboy’s heart is in his belly. He’s never heard Payback like this before: scared. Genuinely, actually, thoroughly scared.

You interrupt the frenzy.

“We need to get him to the mess hall,” you say decidedly. It’s closest to where you are now--no chance you’re gonna make it to the nurse’s cabin. “Now.”

“I’m freaking, Gale,” Payback tells you, choked with tears. “Oh my God…Bob…”

Fanboy turns to you, eyes wide with panic. You’re staring back at him, eyes wide and serious.

“We’re gonna lift him on three, okay? I’m gonna take his head so you don’t have to worry about his arm. I’ve got it.”

Because of the way you’re speaking to him--calm, even, serious--and because of the expression on your face--placid, severe--Fanboy nods instantly. You’re a lighthouse right now, shining light on his face, pulling him in towards land during a storm. You’ve got this. He knows that you do. And all he can do right now is listen.

Payback is beside himself, sobbing into his palms, frozen in his spot, on the verge of vomiting. Any other time, you would be there beside him, offering him ginger candy and a cold compress. But right now you have to worry about Bob.

The mess hall is crowded with kids in their pajamas, clutching secret teddy bears and asking their counselor for the millionth time what’s going on.

Jake is standing by the door with the shotgun, making sure it’s loaded as he waits to hear from you. His fingers are trembling and every time he looks over at Phoenix, who’s sitting at one of the wooden tables, his head fills with cotton.

She’s covered in blood--all down her arms, her hands, the front of her pajama shirt, her shorts, her legs. Phoenix is sitting silently, very still, where she is. She can’t stop thinking about the sound that Bob’s arm made when it came off his body. And, more than that, she keeps thinking that everyone here is going to die. It’s gnawing at her like a rat with an electrical cord--it’s bound to blow up, end in flames.

Coyote is doing another headcount, his brows furrowed. All the kids keep fidgeting and it’s making it hard to keep count, but he’s somehow doing it. Everyone’s here. It’s okay. He stands before them with his hands on his hips, chewing his bottom lip.

Bradley comes into the mess hall later than everyone else, haphazardly dressed and with a string of little chicks following him blindly, all trying to clutch his shirt at the same time.

“Everyone got their headcount?” Coyote asks as Bradley settles his kids beside all the others.

“Yeah,” Bradley answers. “We’re all here.”

Jake is just about to say something, anything, whenever Payback comes into the mess hall. His hands are on his face and he’s bent at the hips as he dry-heaves. Everyone watches in utter silence, shocked, when he cuts across the wide-plank floors and to the kitchen.

“The fuck is the matter with him?” Coyote mutters.

But then they hear it--you. You’re carrying Bob’s upper body, straining with all your might, exhaling with a grunt as you and Fanboy get closer to the mess hall door.

You’re close, you remind yourself. Almost there. Just a little more.

“You okay?” Fanboy asks. He’s straining too.

“Yeah,” you answer through grit teeth.

But your arms are shivering with defeat, your body vibrating with exhaustion. You feel like you aren’t going to make it the rest of the ten paces to the entrance of the mess hall. You feel like you’re losing already and you don’t know how to stop it.

You aren’t strong enough to hold Bob. You’re going to drop him here on the gravel. All hope is draining from your body like blood--pooling around your knees. You won’t be able to save him.

Then, in the very dark night, someone calls your name. Not just one voice, but two--it’s Coyote and Bradley. They’re rushing towards you and Fanboy and Bob.

“Help!” You call out desperately, tears suddenly pouring down your face. “Help us!”

“Fuck,” Coyote mutters when he sees Bob for the first time. And he suddenly understands what the fuck was from with Payback. His belly turns but he hooks his arms beneath Bob’s torso anyway and pulls him up. “I’ve got ‘im!”

Bradley comes to take your spot, carefully but hastily hooking his arms around Bob the way you had been. When you let go and Bob doesn’t fall and they’re carrying him to the mess hall, you have to stand still for a moment to breathe. They’re a few paces ahead of you, ushering Bob inside. And then they will be waiting for you, looking at you for guidance.

Panic is licking at your heels like a hungry dog. You kick it away, wipe your face of tears, and then turn towards the nurse’s cabin.

“I--I have to go get supplies!” You call out. “I’ll be back in a jiff!”

That’s when Jake suddenly comes out of the mess hall, very carefully maneuvering around Bob and everyone else. In his cropped baseball tee and his shorts, holding that shotgun with all the authority of an outlaw, he shakes his head at you. He would never let you go alone.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, already making his way towards you.

“I’m covered in blood,” you tell him, sniffling.

Fuck. You wipe your face again. No more crying.

He chews his bottom lip.

“It’s dark. I can’t see you,” he says. “Let’s giddy on up.”

He wishes, more than anything, that the world would stop for just a second. Just so he could look at you, just so he could help put your hair up, just so he could hold your cheeks and look for injury, just so he could look into your eyes and see their color and let all the feeling come back into his toes.

“We’ve gotta go quick,” you tell him. “That t-shirt tourniquet ain’t gonna last.”

The two of you run to the nurse’s cabin together, your tears fading the closer you get to the door of the cabin.

“The fuck is happening?” Jake says to you. “What happened to him?”

You shake your head, panting, flicking the lightswitch on in the nurse’s cabin. Jake, who had been watching your shadowed form, has to look away from you. He stands in the doorway, his back facing you, and aims his gun at all the nothing out there before him.

He listens to you--all those human sounds you’re making. You keep sniffling and wiping your face. He knows you’re crying, which to him seems to be a very natural response to what’s happening here right now, but he knows that it’s bothering you, too. Your footsteps are heavy and rushed as you grab gauze and medical tape and first aid.

Jake just listens.

He’s waiting, almost, for something to materialize in the dark and come rushing towards him. A man, a beast, a creature, a monster, a ghost. He isn’t sure what--he just feels like it’s coming. It is going to come. Quietly as he knows how, he flicks the safety off. Just in case.

“Is he gonna die?” Jake asks.

Swallowing hard, your arms full of antiseptic, you shake your head.

“No. But we can’t stay here. We’ve gotta--we’ve gotta get the fuck outta here.”

“But the tree,” Jake says. He can feel you nodding, even without looking at you. “And the phones are out.”

“I know,” you tell him, shaking your head. Brain pulsing a mile a minute, you strain to remember if you need anything more than you have on the table. “I know.”

“What are we gonna do?” Jake whispers.

You swallow hard.

“Survive,” you tell him.

♀

It’s strange that the sun is shining. It’s strange that birds are calling and the lake is rippling. There’s not a cloud in the sky, just vast baby blue that stretches on forever and ever. And the air is suddenly perfumed with irises--which seemed to have literally bloomed overnight in spurts of violet and deep green.

Really, it’s a beautiful day.

But everyone is still huddled inside. The campers are itching to get outside, to return to some normalcy, but not one of them is brave enough to ask about it. Jake’s been sitting by the door all night with the shotgun, eyes narrowed and laser-focused. Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback are all sitting at the picnic tables, saying nothing to each other, their eyes drooping and their chests aching.

Bradley and Coyote are in the kitchen with you and Bob, each of you sitting around him. It was a long, long night. The worst night of your life, probably. There are no windows in the kitchen so you cannot smell the irises in here--all you can smell is burnt flesh from where you held a burning frying pan to Bob’s wound to cauterize it.

“It’s almost ten,” Coyote sighs, running his hands down his face. His fingers are stained with blood. “What are we gonna do?”

“Stick it out,” Bradley answers. His shoulder is just barely grazing yours and it’s keeping him going right now--those brief and accidental grazes. You two didn’t get to live long in the afterglow so this is as much as he gets now. “What else are we gonna do?”

“Investigate,” Coyote answers. “Look around. See what we find.”

“What would we find?” Bradley asks.

It’s quiet for a moment. Coyote readjusts on the tiles and shrugs.

“A weapon,” he asnwers. “The weapon. A fucking…I don’t know. A clue?”

Bradley scoffs.

“Look, we all know how much you love Scooby Doo, but this isn’t Mystery Inc., alright? This is real fucking life and Bob is really fucking hurt and we’re fucking stuck here,” Bradley spits. “Whatever the fuck is happening here is real and we’re living it and there’s not clues to find.”

The tips of Coyote’s ears burn with rage.

But then you clear your throat.

“Coyote’s right,” you say softly. “Maybe we should go in shifts. Let the kids stretch their legs. We’re gonna go crazy if we’re cooped up in here all day.”

Rooster scoffs again, shaking his head.

“What, the killer only comes at night?”

“Appears that way,” you whisper back.

You look at him--the one who’s been your right-hand man all night and into this beautiful morning. He didn’t hesitate at all. He held onto Bob’s arm, checked his pulse, didn’t gag. He handed you the right items when you called for them--gauze, tape, cotton, syringe, alcohol. After everything you did last night, the love that he shared with you and the body you shared with him, and this is where you are now. Those big, brown eyes pouring into yours, lips twisted in exhaustion, blood thick on his hands and arms.

And he’s looking at you, too. He watched you work all night--really, really work--and not once did you stumble. You did some of the most ugly and life-saving things for Bob and you didn’t so much as flinch when you did it. Head-to-toe, you’re covered in blood. Bradley’s sure you probably have some in your teeth, too, after the night you’ve had. But here you are all the same, beautiful and looking at him gently.

“We need to make a plan,” Coyote says.

You nod at once. Bradley nods, but doesn’t look away from you.

Looking down at Bob, his flaxen face and his fluttering eyelids, you sigh. He’s alive. He’s alive and that’s all that matters right now and you’ve done all you can do and that’s that. Part of you wishes he would wake up and tell everyone what happened. The other part of you, the more sober and logical part of you, is glad he isn’t awake to feel the pain.

“He’ll be arlight,” Bradley whispers to you. “It’s Bob. Bob can’t die.”

You sniff again, shake your head.

“Let’s get everyone in here, huh?”

Everyone does squeeze into the kitchen--which is far too small. Jake stands at the door, his back turned to everyone, and keeps the shotgun aimed for the main entrance.

“He’s…alive?” Fanboy asks from beside Payback, glancing down at Bob’s body splayed on the tiles.

“Yes,” you whisper. “But he won’t be if we don’t figure out how to get out of here.”

Phoenix sighs, sniffles, rubs the tears under her eyes.

“What about the bus?” She asks.

“It’s older than us,” Jake says, shaking his head soberly. “Besides, I’m sure the gas is bad.”

Coyote nods.

“He’s right. Ain’t no way that bus is getting us out of here.”

“Well, even if it did work, we couldn’t get out of here,” Bradley says.

“The tree,” you follow.

A lull falls over the group. Everyone is picking their skin, blinking, rubbing the toes of their shoes against the tiles.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Payback asks. “Do we just…wait until Mav and Pen come for the next supply run?”

Coyote exhales long and hard through his nose.

“That ain’t until the first week of August,” he says softly. “No way we’ll be alive by then.”

Phoenix snaps up, staring hard at Coyote.

“Is that some sort of joke?” She asks, brows furrowed. She wraps her arms around herself as her heart races. “‘Cause no one’s laughing.”

Coyote blinks at her.

“I wasn’t joking,” he says.

Another lull falls over the group.

Now Fanboy scoffs loudly--it echoes off the tiles.

“Fine? You think we’re gonna be fine? Bob’s arm is fucking gone! Phoenix pulled it off!” Fanboy says, gesturing wildly. “We don’t have enough food to last us until August and we can’t go trotting on down the trail and cut the fucking tree down ‘cause someone’ll cut us down! We’re fucked, man. We’re totally fucked.”

Jake shakes his head. And before anyone else can speak, Jake starts.

“When did we all become such pussies, huh?” He asks. He turns so his profile is visible. He makes a point of not looking into the room because of the blood, so he just stares atraight ahead at the doorframe. “Why the fuck are we sitting around in here when we should be using the daylight to our advantage? Shit, how many of us are there? Seven?”

“Six,” Phoenix answers, nodding to Bob. Her heart aches--genuienly aches--when Bob doesn’t turn to her and roll his eyes. “There’s six of us, really.”

“Fine. There’s six of us. And whoever is out there--shit, there’s gotta only be one of them, right? ‘Cause they didn’t get the job done both times.”

“But we don’t know that,” Fanboy says. “There could be a bunch.”

“I’m willing to bet there’s one fucking freak out there, alright? And one fucking freak isn’t gonna herd us into the fucking mess hall, are they? We need to get out there. Figure this all out.”

You’re shaking your head softly.

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Payback says. “We’re fucked, man.”

“Stop saying we’re fucked,” Coyote says. “We don’t even know what we are yet.”

“Okay, fine. We’re not fucked yet. But Bob is,” Fanboy says, glancing down at Bob. “Shit, I bet these kids are fucked, too.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Phoenix hisses suddenly, turning towards Fanboy and shoving a finger in his face. “Don’t fucking talk about Bob like he isn’t here! He’s right here!”

“But is he?” Payback says. And he doesn’t say it to be a dick. He says it because he means it, really has to ask it.

Phoenix sniffles, shaking her head.

“Yes,” you answer for her, voice very quiet and calm. “Yes, he’s right here.”

It’s quiet for a moment. The campers are starting to whine about being hungry.

“What about Paul?” Bradley asks.

Brows furrow.

“What about him?” Coyote asks. “Like, you think he’s the killer?”

Bradley shakes his head.

“Nah, man. He’s too old. But he’s--he’s still out there. Maybe he has a truck or a radio or-or something we can use, right?”

Everyone nods slowly.

“But then who’s gonna go there?” Fanboy asks.

“Yeah, that’s a trek through the woods,” Payback answers. “Count me the fuck out, man.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Jake spits.

“Knock it off,” you whisper--it’s only just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve gotta be on the same page or we really aren’t going to make it, okay?”

“I just…I don’t even know what we’re up against,” Phoenix whispers. “I’m so confused.”

You pat her knee softly.

“I know,” you whisper. “None of us do.”

“I know whatever we’re up against is too much of a scaredy cat to come out during the day,” Jake says. “Which is why we would be taking advantage of the sun.”

“You don’t know that, though. You really don’t. You’re just guessing,” Bradley sighs. “We need to all agree on one plan.”

You subtly let your fingers fall on Bob’s throat--the pulse is still there. No change.

Phoenix carefully slips her hand into Bob’s--he’s still warm. She squeezes hard.

“I don’t wanna leave Bob,” Phoenix whispers. She begins to weep all over again, face contorting in agony. “I really don’t wanna leave Bob.”

“Okay. Phoenix and I stay with Bob,” you say, nodding. “We should get the axes and, like, any other weapons we can find. Lock the cabins up so no one can surprise us.”

Everyone nods slowly.

“Then what?” Fanboy asks.

You sigh. Your legs are cramping from having them bent all night, but you don’t stretch out.

“We’ll sleep in shifts. Armed escorts to the latrine. We’ll wait.”

“For what?” Jake asks quietly. “A miracle?”

“Help,” you whisper. “We’ll wait for help.”

Bradley nods rapidly, peeling his eyes away from your tired, bloodied face.

“She’s right,” he says. “We should just wait for help.”

Coyote sighs deeply, running his hands down his face for the millionth time today.

“I feel like we’re bait,” he says. “I don’t wanna be bait, man.”

“We’re not bait,” you answer. “We’re not. We have the…the mean to protect ourselves. We’ve got the campers to think of, too, okay? So, we just need to keep our heads.”

“Yeah, or they’ll be cut off…” Fanboy whispers.

Coyote nudges him.

“Enough with the doom and gloom, alright? She’s right. We’ve gotta keep our heads.”

Everyone starts to move after that.

You and Phoenix stay right there with Bob, your hand on her leg, her face buried in her own shoulder as she weeps. Coyote offers to clear our the rooms of necessary items and lock them all up. Payback and Fanboy start lining the kids up to go to the latrine and stretch their legs. Bradley and Jake start for the bus barn to look for a final time, just to confirm what they already know.

Finally, it’s quiet in the mess hall. So quiet that you can hear the swallows chirping outside and the wind blowing through the trees. You can hear Bob breathing--very faint and very quiet.

Phoenix turns her wet face towards Bob finally, her throat constricting. She smooths a hand through his hair, sniffling hard.

“Does he…does he hurt?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. “He’s in shock. And, besides, I gave him a morphine tablet.”

Phoenix nods. It makes her chest feel less tight than it did before.

“What could even cut through like that?” Phoenix whispers, shaking her head. “I mean, not a knife, right?”

“Definitely not a seashell,” you whisper.

A sad smile tugs at her lips.

“An ax?” She whispers. You say nothing. She knows she’s right. “What’s happening, Gale?”

Again, you sigh.

“I’m not sure,” you answer. “I just don’t know.”

Phoenix stares down at Bob again. He almost doesn’t look like himself because of all the blood and mud. It bothers her because she knows it would bother him--being so entirely covered in grime. He’s the cleanest person she knows.

“He’d hate being so dirty,” she whispers to you. She carefully strokes his cheek. “He showers twice a day.”

And because you don’t know what else to do and because you’re choked up and because you’re so exhausted and because you’re so scared, you stand on wobbly legs. And then you move to the sink and turn the tap on and wait for it to warm. Your knees are trembling and your undereyes are pulsing, but you keep your fingers beneath the stream anyway. Then you wet a few rags, fill a small container, and slowly come back to Phoenix.

Neither of you say anything, choked on the humanness of the situation, as you both begin to diligently wipe at the dirt and gore that covers Bob’s skin. It’s very quiet except for dripping water and occasional sniffles.

If anyone else were to walk in this room right now, Bob’s body without an arm and cauterized with a frying pan and you and Phoenix drenched in his blood, they would think that you are preparing him for his funeral. They would think that in this time of crisis, when there is someone out there that wants to hurt everyone else and no one knows who they are or where or what or why or how, you and Phoenix are doing what you can. You’re being as human as human can be, washing the blood off Bob even though he isn’t awake to feel it or see it.

You wring a rag in the bucket--it’s color is that of red clay.

Across camp, Jake and Bradley are standing before the bus now. Their hands are on their hips and they’re squinting beneath the sun, chewing their bottom lips.

“Fuck,” Bradley whispers.

“I was gonna say that,” Jake whispers.

All the tired are slashed. Whoever is at Camp Arcadia was here, too. Maybe standing right where Bradley and Jake are now.

Jake sighs.

“What now?” Bradley asks.

“We listen to Gale,” Jake answers.

Rooster nods, swallowing hard.

“Alright,” he says. “Yeah.”

Maybe it’s Jake’s fault for bringing you up right now. Maybe it’s Bradley’s fault for agreeing. But now both of them are sitting uncomfortably in the thick of their feelings for you, shifting their weights from one foot to another.

And for whatever reason, Jake thinks about Bradley coming to his cabin early this morning. He thinks about the direction he came from--your cabin--and the direction he went--his cabin.

“Hey, man,” Jake says, wandering forward to run a finger along the dusty bus. Rooster watches from the doorway, still taking it all in. “Why weren’t you in your cabin last night?”

“Now isn’t the time, Seresin,” Rooster grumbles. “We need to go grab the axes. Let’s go.”

Jake doesn’t move.

“Where were you? Bathroom break?”

Bradley stares at him. His jaw is squared.

“You’re really doing this right now?” He asks, incredulous.

Jake just nods.

“You know where I was,” Bradley says softly. “Can we go now?”

Jake swallows hard. He doesn’t know why he’s getting into this--he isn’t dumb, he knows right now isn’t the time. But he’s so exhausted and he hasn’t been able to look at you all day and all last night. He almost fainted because you had a fucking bloody nose. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s scared and worried and stressed, but instead of feeling all of that he’s decided to just feel angry. Angry at Bradley.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Bradley turns his back, scoffing loudly.

“Grow the fuck up,” Bradley spits.

And that’s when Bradley hears it--very faint, like it was supposed to be a secret. The clicking of the safety on the shotgun.

Rooster whirls around, eyes wide. Jake is staring at him, shotgun in his hands and aimed towards the ground.

“Did you just turn the safety off?” Rooster asks. The tips of his ears are bright red.

Jake’s face screws up as if he’s been insulted.

“Are you fucking mental? Of course I didn’t,” Jake spits. “But I bet you made it with Nightingale last night, didn’t you?”

Bradley takes a step forward, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. I did.”

Jake’s jaw drops.

“You’re lying,” he seethes.

“She really goes electric when you kiss her thighs,” Bradley says, the hint of a smirk tugging on his lips. “But you already knew that, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jake whispers. “I made her cum. Three times.”

“And then never again,” Bradley says. “We’re together now.”

“Bullshit you are!” Jake says. “Fuck you, man. You think you’re such a macho guy, huh? Making all the decisions for her!”

Rooster barks out a laugh.

“I think she made her choice last night,” he tells Jake. “So, while Coyote read you a bedtime story, Gale and I made it official.”

“You don’t get to just date whatever you fuck,” Jake seethes. “Then every tubesock in the world would be lawfully yours.”

“Fuck you,” Rooster spits.

He shoves Jake’s shoulders. Jake stumbles only slightly, the gun tight in his grip.

“Fuck you, man,” Jake returns, slamming the side of the shotgun into Bradley’s chest until he stumbles back, too.

And because he’s so fucking pissed that he didn’t get to wake up basked in sunlight beside you, fresh and clean and without hurt and without incident, Bradley steps back to Jake until they’re nose-to-nose.

“Lay a hand on me again and you’re gonna live to regret it, you fucking pussy.”

It’s the nastiest thing Bradley’s ever said to Jake.

And because Jake is so drunk on you and the thought of you and Bradley touching each other makes him feel like a suffocated bottlerocket, he scowls at Bradley.

With all the commotion, Coyote wanders over to the bus barn. He doesn’t know who the fuck decided Bradley and Jake should be paired off together, but he’s cursing it now as he approaches and sees the two of them nose-to-nose.

“Nothing to say, you fucking bitch?” Bradley whispers. “Still thinking about Gale riding my cock last night? I know I am.”

Coyote steps into the barn.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Jake screams.

He starts to wind up his arm, but then Coyote has his arms around him and he’s choving the gun away from Jake and pulling him back.

“Knock it the fuck off!” Coyote demands, shoving Jake to the side. “You, too, Bradshaw! Keep your fucking heads. Now isn’t the time to play tug-of-war, alright. Don’t be fucking idiots.”

Bradley and Jake are still staring at each other. Each of them are thinking about how good it would feel to let their fists come down on the other’s face over and over again and then leave them face down in the dirt.

“He’s right,” Bradley says. “Someone probably should’ve stayed with the girls anyway. Just in case.”

Jake spits--it lands right near Bradley’s shoes.

“Stop,” Coyote demands. “Get outta here, Bradshaw.”

And then Bradley is gone and Coyote is staring at Jake, disappointed but not surprised. It was bound to boil over eventually. Coyote knows how Jake feels about you. He knows how much it hurts--how much it’s going to hurt.

“You alright?” Coyote asks.

Jake is standing with his back on the bus, facing the ground, his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted. His fists are clenched and his cheeks are red.

“Is anyone fine?” Jake asks, voice quiet and angry.

“You know what I mean, man,” Coyote says. He sighs, runs his hand along his curls.

They don’t say anything for a long moment.

They’re both just looking around, trying to think of anything to say other than they’re fucked and they’re pissed. Coyote’s searching the room, taking in all the dust and the dirt. He sees the slashed tires. But then something catches his eye--something bright red and small. It’s stuck in the tire, planted there like it belongs.

“The fuck is that?” Coyote whispers.

Jake glances up, follows Coyote’s gaze.

Their mouths go dry identically when they realize what it is.

“Fuck,” Jake whispers. “It’s a Swiss army knife.”

♀ 𝐚/𝐧: hi guys....

�� 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

♀ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

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#I AM YELLING #YELLLLLLINGGGGGGG #cruel summer #reblogs #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

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yuta-nakamots · 4 years ago

Text

misfit - j.sc

Pairing - Sungchan x Reader

Genre - Horror/Thriller, Angst, Fluff

Warnings - serial killer, character death, violence, murder, implications of sex

Summary - A murderer is on the loose, killing with no regret and ending the lives of more than just a few people. No one knew who it was, turning against each other upon even the slightest bit of doubt. Maybe you should’ve been more careful with who you chose to trust.

Word Count - 5.3k

A/N - this is inspired entirely from a dream I had a few days ago. I've added very little to what I saw in my dream aside from Sungchan as the male lead. yes, I am freaked out by this and yes, I am scared of writing for Sungchan bc I don’t know his personality all too well but as an ‘01 liner myself I have faith in us

Written for the #NeoHalloween writing festival hosted by @nct-writers. Check out the masterlist here.

For five months now, your town has lived in fear. A serial killer was on the loose and he was known by the name of Hickleback Jack though no one knew where the name came from or who had started it. Each month, the population of your town voted on the local community board to have one person executed who they thought was Hickleback Jack. So far, not a single guess was right leaving five innocent people dead. Well, five plus an extra thirty, give or take.

See, the thing about Hickleback Jack, was that every time the votes came in at the end of the month, he could see just who voted for him and targeted them as his next victims. He killed six of those people over the following month, adding up to seven dead each time the town guessed incorrectly. It was getting to a point where no one trusted each other, no one dared to say anything against each other in fear of being accused or in fear of being the next to fall mercy to Hickleback Jack.

Not much was known about this killer other than his appearance. He’s male with a tall and broad figure though he always covers his face with some kind of mask. His common weapon is known to be an axe. People have claimed to have seen him late at night under the dim orange glow of the street lamps but he was never caught by the authorities, leaving everyone restless and waiting for the next kill.

The night was still young when you had gotten home from school and it was a Friday night which was basically an open invitation for you to call over your boyfriend, Sungchan. He had transferred in to your university at the start of the school year, and had ended up sitting next to you during your sophomore seminar class, leading to the start of your friendship with him.

A simple friendship soon blossomed into a relationship after Sungchan’s bright personality began shining through his somewhat intimidating exterior. You lived without fear when Sungchan was around, the love you had for him blocking out anything else in the world that wasn’t him.

You sat on your bed, your homework spread out in front of you while you held your phone up to your ear. “Do you want to come over tonight?” You ask as soon as he picks up your call.

You hear rustling on the other end of the call before Sungchan clears his throat and speaks, his voice husky from sleep. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I said, do you want to come over tonight?” You paused and heard him yawn. “You fell asleep after class didn’t you?” You smiled to yourself thinking of your boyfriend’s handsome face as he napped after getting back to his apartment once he finished with his classes for the day, which was a common occurrence now that the semester was in full swing.

“Mmm,” he hummed in thought, “as much as I’d love to, I really shouldn’t have taken that nap because of how much homework I have.”

“Oh, that’s okay, do your homework first,” you reassure him, “maybe we can hang out some other time this weekend. It’s only Friday after all.”

“Definitely. Are you starting yours right now?” Sungchan asked.

“Yeah, I’d rather not wait and end up cramming on Sunday night.” You laughed, knowing that said event has happened more times that you’d like to admit.

Sungchan let out a noise of agreement. “I’ll let you know when I’m done with my homework though.”

“Same here.” You promised.

“Alright, let’s get to work and I’ll talk to you soon.” He told you.

“Sounds good, love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that you hung up, eager to start on your homework in hopes of getting to spend more time with your boyfriend. You actually had a lot of it this weekend thanks to molecular biology, and you figured that if you couldn’t talk to Sungchan, who had yet to take the course, you called up your study group discord instead. Luckily, many of them were in similar situations as you, faced with the daunting task of completing all the worksheets assigned during class earlier in the day.

“Okay so was anyone paying attention during the lecture today?” Your classmate Chenle asked.

“I know Yeji fell asleep so you’re in the same boat as her.” You interject, recalling the sight of both of them knocked out in their seats as the professor droned on about the functions of the structures inside cells.

Yeji let out a gasp of shock at how blatantly you called her out. “I may have fallen asleep but at least I still know that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

“Everyone knows that, Yeji.” Your other classmate Jaemin said, his voice void of enthusiasm.

“Okay, Jaemin, we get it, Mr. Serious.” You teased.

“Yeah, this is a biology study group, not a bible study group, lighten up a little.” Chenle jokes.

Jaemin scoffed, “sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s trying to do well in this class.”

“Well not all of us enjoy the taste of coffee with six shots of caffeine in them.” Yeji argued back.

“Guys,” you called out as Jaemin and Yeji started arguing, “guys!” They finally stopped to hear what you had to say. “Let’s just get this over with sooner rather than later because I know none of us want to be awake at 2am trying to figure this out alone.”

“Agreed,” Chenle said, “so question three, the one about the DNA mutation, how is missense different from nonsense?”

“Missense is where one of the bases mutates and changes to something else, therefore changing the protein level,” Jaemin explained, “nonsense is the same theoretical concept except it spells out one of the stop codes.”

Yeji let out a groan, “can you slow down, or like, I don’t know, use easier words or something?”

Most of your night passed by like this and before you knew it, it was already nearing midnight and you could tell your classmates were just as exhausted as you. “I think we should call it here.”

“Definitely,” Yeji confirmed, “tomorrow morning at 10?”

You all let out similar answers of acknowledgement before Chenle spoke up. “The poll closes on tomorrow night so make sure to vote if you haven’t already.”

Because of how long this has been going on for, everyone was already on the same page once someone mentioned the poll or voting. “There were only five kills this month so I wouldn’t be surprised if the last one is announced tomorrow or Sunday morning.” Jaemin chimed in.

“All the recent kills were related to the university so I know a lot of people are suspecting someone in our age range.” Yeji informed the group.

Jaemin let out a chuckle, “if the killer actually is a college student, I wouldn’t be surprised since it is getting close to the last wave of midterms and then finals so that would explain why the victims fall into the same category.” The chat fell silent at that. “I’m just saying that he’s getting a little lazy by grouping all his kills like this.”

“Jaemin, are you sure you’re not the killer?” Chenle asked with a laugh at the end.

“Guys, I can promise you that I’m not the killer, I swear on my life.” Jaemin promised.

“Alright, that’s enough detective work for tonight, I’ll start the call again around 10 tomorrow. Sounds good?” You conclude, wanting to curl up under your covers already, which is exactly what you do once everyone wishes each other a good night and hung up.

Morning came a little too quickly for your liking, the bright sunlight flooding into your room through the window and forcing you awake. Checking your phone, you saw that it was 9:30am, meaning you had some time to spare before your next meeting with the bio study group, along with a notification from Sungchan that he had sent well after you had fallen asleep.

Sungchan > y/n

2:14am: Just got rescheduled to work opening shift tomorrow.

2:15am: Didn’t finish my homework but I can stop by at your house after work with my stuff and we can hang out and have fun once we’re both done?

Your heart warmed at how he stayed up late trying to finish his homework for you and that he suggested the idea of coming over after his shift at a small local restaurant finished just so the two of you could be together even if you’d be focusing on your own tasks for a while.

y/n > Sungchan

9:32am: Sorry I didn’t text back earlier, I just woke up!

9:32am: But of course you can come over, I might even be done with my work by then ;)

You plugged your phone to let it charge and left it on your nightstand as you made yourself breakfast downstairs. The house was quiet since your mom already left for work and you dad worked a night shift job and was probably sleeping at the moment. It was strangely serene as you prepared yourself a bowl of cereal though the calm was rudely interrupted by the sound of your ringtone coming from your room.

Deciding to get it after eating breakfast, you poured the cereal in first, thinking about the way Sungchan had told you before that he liked to pour the milk first and let the cereal soak up the milk. “It makes it super soggy and I like it.” He tried reasoning with you, to which you only raised an eyebrow at.

Just as you put the milk carton back into the refrigerator and was about to take a bit of your cereal, your phone started going off again. You placed your bowl onto the kitchen table and made your way back up to your bedroom to see what it was that was so important this early in the morning. Checking the notifications, it was Yeji who had been calling you so you shot her a message.

y/n > Yeji

9:39am: What’s up?

Yeji > y/n

9:40am: I just dreamt that it was Jaemin who was the killer

9:40am: please call me right now I feel like I’m going to go insane

You heeded her words and called her immediately. “So what happened in the dream?”

“I don’t know, I just remember being chased by a man with an axe and I was running to the school to try to see if I could get help but then I tripped and when I turned around, it was Jaemin.” Yeji blurted out without a single breath in between.

You paused, trying to take in all the information she just threw at you. “Do you have any reason as to why you think you dreamt this?”

“The way he was talking last night,” she stopped to catch her breath, “he spoke so in detail that I couldn’t help but overthink like, what if he is actually the killer? What if we’re next?”

“Well, you can vote for him in the poll if you want but personally, I don’t think it’s him.” You think of your next words carefully. “I’m not trying to invalidate your thoughts but Jaemin does come from a reputable family-”

“Y/n, it could be anyone. Family doesn’t matter. We have no information on the guy, we don’t know what economic class he’s in or anything.” Yeji interrupted.

You took a few seconds to gather your thoughts before speaking again. “That is true, but we all know Jaemin wants to be a surgeon right? He’s in all these difficult classes and he maintains such high grades-”

“Okay but how is that relevant?” Yeji interrupted yet again.

She was getting on your nerves but you held yourself back. “Listen, I’m just trying to say that with the amount of time and effort he puts into school, I don’t think he could be the killer. The killer plans his kills well enough that we just can’t find him and that probably takes just as much time as school does for us.”

Yeji took a while to respond though when she did, her words surprised you. “Now you’re starting to sound like the killer.”

“Yeji, I can promise you that it’s not me. I’m just as scared as you are in this whole situation,” you reasoned, “I’ll even vote for Jaemin if it makes you feel better.”

She let out a sigh across the line. “Okay fine. Maybe a kill will happen while we’re on the call and it’ll clear Jaemin’s name.”

“I think you’re letting it all get to you, just try not to think about it for a bit.” You advised.

“But am I really overreacting y/n? We live every day in fear of being the next victim. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us, so am I really overreacting?” You look over at the clock on your wall as she spoke, realizing that it’s already 9:55 and you should probably start the call already.

“No, I don’t think you’re overreacting, I’m just saying that constantly thinking about it to this extent isn’t good for you. We still have school to pay attention to,” you explain, “speaking of, I’m gonna start the call now.”

“I can’t just stop thinking about it that easily but whatever, let’s just hope that we’re not associating ourselves with a murderer by doing this.” You can only shake your head as you start the call.

Chenle joined immediately followed by Yeji. “Good morning ladies, President Zhong here. How are we doing on this fine day?”

You rolled your eyes even though a smile spread across your face. “I’m doing good, Mr. President. Ready to finish off these worksheets.”

“Good, good,” Chenle affirmed, sticking with his act, “and you, Miss Yeji?”

“Fine.” She shot out.

Chenle let out a quiet chuckle, “someone’s a little grumpy this morning. Maybe we should’ve met a bit later.”

“No, let’s just get this over with.” Yeji grumbled just as Jaemin joined.

“Great! Now that the head brain cell is here, let’s get this meeting started.” Chenle exclaimed.

Four hours into your meeting and eight out of ten worksheets later, your phone begins to ring with an incoming call from Sungchan. “Hold on guys, I gotta take this call. Hello?”

“I’m downstairs, come pick me up.” You couldn’t deny the butterflies that spread throughout your chest upon hearing your boyfriend’s voice. You got up to let him in though you certainly didn’t miss the teasing coming from your laptop as your classmates yelled about you and Sungchan.

As you made your way downstairs, you froze halfway down the stairs, seeing Sungchan already in the kitchen eating the bowl of cereal you forgot about. “I’m guessing you made this for yourself earlier and forgot to eat it.” He said through a mouthful of food.

“Babe, no, don’t eat that, it’s like five hours old. The milk is probably stale.” You exclaimed, worried about his health if it really did go bad.

Sungchan only shrugged as he took another spoonful into his mouth. “Tastes fine to me.”

You rolled your eyes before turning to head back upstairs. “Join me in my room once you’re ready, you cereal monster. Leave the dishes in the sink too.” As you returned to your room, you couldn’t help but wonder how Sungchan got in though you figure he’s probably seen you use the spare key under the doormat a couple times since you often were too lazy to get your own keys out of your bag most of the time.

When you sat down in front of your computer again, Jaemin had just finished explaining the answer to the problem you guys were working on earlier so you chimed in asking him to go over it again though he was quickly overrun by an excited Chenle. “Is Sungchan there?” He practically yelled.

“No, not yet, he’s eating some soggy cereal downstairs.” You inform him.

“Alright, let me know when he comes in.” Chenle says, unphased by your boyfriends’ odd preference of cereal.

Halfway through Jaemin’s explanation, Sungchan came into your room, placing his bag down at the foot of the bed before he took his jacket off and stripped out of his work uniform. “I heard a door open, is that Sungchan?” Chenle shouted over Jaemin once more.

“I never get to fucking speak in this group.” Jaemin huffed, at which Chenle muttered a quick ‘sorry’ back.

“Yes, Chenle, Sungchan is here,” you announce, looking over at the boy in question who had just finished pulling a shirt over his head and winked when he saw you staring at his body, “he seems very flirty today, must be because of you, Mr. Zhong.”

Sungchan sits down next to you and places a kiss on your cheek, smelling oddly of cleaning supplies, but you pay no mind to that, figuring he must have used them at work. “How’s it going Chenle?” He asks, though his attention is only on you and he places his hands on your cheeks and leaves a quick kiss on your lips.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear the two of you kissing,” Chenle remarks, earning a laugh from Sungchan, “but anyways, you should come back to the basketball team. We miss our giant point guard, you know.”

“Nah, I’m too busy these days. I already have work and school plus I still want to spend time with y/n.” He commented as he shifted to lie on his stomach next to you.

“Man, who knew a girl would be all it took to make this dude throw his love for basketball out the window.” Chenle taunted.

“Love makes you do things, you know how it is.” Sungchan replied, resting his head on your thigh.

Running a hand through his hair, “anyways,” you divert, “back to what Jaemin was saying about meiosis.”

“Thank you, y/n, I thought I’d never be able to speak again.” Jaemin uttered pointedly. “As I was saying, the main difference between meiosis and mitosis is that it creates four daughter cells instead of two like mitosis does.”

“Hey guys, wait, did you see the article that just came out?” Yeji inquired. “It’s another death.”

There was a moment of silence before anyone said anything. “No but you can read it to us.” Chenle concluded.

“Okay,” you could hear the deep breath Yeji took before reading the article, “it says here that the body was found at around 1:20pm in an alley between the lower-income housing apartments, the cause of death is assumed to be by Hickleback Jack using his axe, and the estimated time of death is anywhere from 12 to 1pm.”

“Wow,” Jaemin began, “so he just killed out in broad daylight.”

“Not gonna lie Jaemin, but I thought you were the killer.” Yeji let out blatantly.

You were mildly shocked at her bluntness, but not surprised given how stressed everyone was. “Me?” Jaemin gasped, “Yeji, you know I’m pretty much Rapunzel with how much time I spend in my room studying. And when I’m not studying, I’m either editing pictures or playing video games.”

“It’s true,” Chenle confirms, “he really doesn’t leave his room. We had a sleepover once and I felt like I was becoming a hermit like him.” Sungchan slightly wheezed at that, sending Chenle over the moon. “Did you hear that? Did you guys hear that? Sungchan thinks I’m funny!”

“Yeah yeah, enough about me being a hermit. But Yeji,” Jaemin addressed, “why did you think it was me?”

Yeji hesitated before responding. “I just- the way you were talking the other night...I don’t know. It just sounded so specific and detailed that I couldn’t help but think that it could have been you.”

“I don’t think a murderer would simply reveal his plans like that, you know.” Sungchan proposed.

“Well yeah, but it’s just the way he spoke, it was like he had things organized...you know what? Let’s forget I said that, but I know the four of us are clear.” Yeji resigned.

Sungchan sat up, “wait, why am I not cleared?”

“Y/n, what time did he call you?”

“Like 2-ish.”

“Exactly. Sungchan, you don’t have an alibi, as far as we know, until 2 and the time of death is stated to be 12 to 1pm.”

“I was at work earlier in the day, though.”

“Can you prove it to us?” Yeji pressed on.

“Yeah, my coworkers can vouch for me.”

You were quite surprised at how aggressive Yeji was being towards your boyfriend but you didn’t see any reason to stop her since she had very valid arguments. “Send a screenshot of it to Chenle and we’ll verify you from there.” Yeji commanded.

Sungchan slouched down a little next to you. “I don’t have the numbers of my coworkers though.”

“Alright, then you’re still on the list of suspects.”

After finishing all the worksheets for microbio and ending the call around 3:30, Sungchan pulled out his laptop and started typing away at a half-finished lab report for his human A&P class. You fell asleep curled into his body, his warmth and the constant tapping of his keyboard lulling you to sleep.

When you woke again, you immediately noticed the absence of a large boy next to you and frowned to yourself. As you came to, you heard noise coming from the kitchen and identified your mother’s voice followed by Sungchan’s. Noticing the time on your phone, you guess that he was probably helping her prepare dinner since it was already past 6 and your family ate around 7 before your dad left for work.

By the time you made yourself presentable and came downstairs, your mom and Sungchan were already setting the table. “Looks like our sleepyhead finally woke up.” Your mother exclaimed, making you grimace. “You didn’t tell me Sungchan was staying over,” you were about to open your mouth to say that you didn’t know that either but you weren’t given the chance to do so, “it’s okay, especially with that killer still on the loose, it makes me feel better knowing there’s someone around to protect my baby.”

You looked at Sungchan as if asking him for answers though he seemed to only avoid your gaze, reluctantly taking the seat across from you at the dining table. Your father walked in, delighted to see your boyfriend. “Sungchan! Good to see you, how are things at school?” He asked as he joined you all at the table.

“Okay for the most part, I haven’t taken to my writing class all that much though I enjoy my other science classes.” Sungchan answers.

Your dad hums in approval while you stare down Sungchan, trying to get him to look at you. “Remind me again what you’re majoring in again?” Your mom asks, Sungchan whips his head around faster than you can make eye contact with him.

“I’m majoring in forensics.” He states.

“Interesting, interesting,” your father contemplates, “you know, y/n here wants to become a pediatrician. The two of you are practically opposites in the science field, one dealing with crime and the other dealing with children.”

Sungchan let out a laugh, “I guess opposites really do attract then.”

You hated how well he entertained your parents and you hated how much they liked him. For the rest of dinner you tried to pin him down through your stares and even played a game of footsie with him but nothing seemed to work. It was only once the two of you were back in your room getting ready for bed that you were able to talk to him.

“Look, I’m not mad at you or anything, I’d just appreciate it if you talked to me first before just telling my parents that you’re staying over.” You told him as you went through your skincare routine.

Sungchan jumped onto your bed as he apologized. “Sorry, I just thought that since both of us finished our homework and with the killing today, it would just make sense for me to stay over.” He opened his arms, inviting you in as you stood up after finishing your night routine.

You copied him, jumping into your bed straight onto Sungchan, effectively pushing the air out of his body. He grunted as your weight fell onto him though he still wrapped his arms around your waist and shifted you up the length of your body so your face was level with his. “Hi” you giggle, shy from the sudden close proximity.

“Hey.” He says back with a smile as you slide off him, leaving an arm and leg slung over his body. “Tired?”

“No, not really, I took a nap earlier since someone didn’t care to wake me up.”

“You looked too cute, besides, you need all the rest you can get.” Sungchan explained, using his free hand to squish your cheeks. “If you’re really not tired then I know a way to make you tired.” His hand found its way down to your butt to further emphasize his point.

“Ew, no, not now.” You quickly refused, moving his hand up to your waist. “Just go to sleep and I’ll probably fall asleep after you anyways.”

“Oh wait,” Sungchan said, reaching over you to the nightstand for his phone, “did you vote on the poll yet?”

“No, I almost forgot.” You groaned, lazily reaching for your phone as well.

You pull up the local community board and enter your information, looking at the list of all the citizens, pondering on who you’d give your vote to. “Who are you voting for?” Sungchan asks, looking over at your screen.

“I really don’t know.” You tell him, though truthfully, you had someone in mind.

Thanks to the nap you had, you really couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard you tried. You ended up dozing off occasionally but you’d wake up half an hour later only more irritated than when you first fell asleep.

You don’t remember what time it was, but at some point, Sungchan had removed himself from your grasp, unaware that you were still awake, though you made no effort to stop him thinking that he was just going to use the restroom and come back. Five minutes passed, five minutes turned into ten, then twenty, and you decided to check on him once thirty minutes had passed.

The house was completely dark, not even the light from the bathroom was on. You checked inside in case Sungchan had maybe gotten hurt and passed out, but he was nowhere to be found. After searching almost all the rooms in your house, you had yet to find any sign of him. After a bit of thinking, you had wandered out to your mothers’ greenhouse thinking that maybe some time with the plants would help to calm your mind.

It did anything but that.

Not long after setting foot inside of the small shed, you heard screams coming from nearby, getting closer and closer. You watched from the inside of the tinted glass as three girls ran through your backyard and into the next property. You couldn’t help it that you were frozen to your core, knowing who was coming.

You saw his frame as he jumped over the fence from the other end of your yard, axe in hand, running through the open grass and you thought he might have noticed you until he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glued on you. You should’ve ducked down as soon as the girls ran past but it was too late now and there was no second way out of the greenhouse.

You knew you should have tried to run, maybe smash through the glass panelling but something in you told you that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stop him. Steeling your nerves as he crosses the threshold of the greenhouse, you call out to him. “I know who you are.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

It was as if your world was crumbling before you, the once so comfortable relationship you knew felt fake, even though Sungchan, your loving boyfriend stood right there. The only difference was that you knew who he really was.

“Why?” You start, “why did you kill all those innocent people?”

“It’s all for fun, y/n.”

“What do you mean ‘for fun’? Those are real people you know, people with families and friends who miss them dearly.” You nearly cry out as he continues to approach you.

“You see, life is a game.” He paused his words as he came to stand in front of you. “Laws are nothing but a social construct that us humans follow mindlessly until our own demise.”

He takes a step closer to you, but you stand your ground. “Laws are what keep us safe and keep us happy. They allow us to lead our lives peacefully with others-”

“They are nothing but limits.” He closes the distance between the two of you, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you towards him, and you allow him to do so. “My dear, sweet, y/n. If only you weren’t so smart, I wouldn’t be faced with this dilemma.”

“You wouldn’t kill me.” You were trying to persuade him just as much as you were to yourself. “You’d never.”

“Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“You love me.”

“I do, I love you so dearly, but now that you know who’s behind all the killings, there’s no way that I can let you go.” You felt his axe nudge the back of your leg as he brought both arms around you. To an outsider, it would look as if a couple were having a conversation, but for you, this was a fight for your life.

“Take off the mask.”

“Why should I?”

“So I can talk to you properly.”

He took off the mask without much more convincing, his normally handsome face now distorted by the crazed look in his eyes. People often say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and if they really were, then Sungchan didn’t have a soul.

“I swear to you that I won’t ever tell anyone about this, about you.”

“I don’t believe that you’ll keep that promise, my dear.”

“You know how much I love you. As long as we can stay together, I will not say anything.”

“This is not a tale of beauty and the beast. I am no beast to be tamed and there is no happy ending to this story.”

“Sungchan, no. You don’t mean that.”

“Do I really not mean it, or is that what you would like to believe? Something tells me it’s the latter.” He held you tight against him with one arm, the other raising his axe. “It’s truly a shame that your beauty must go to waste, you were truly a wonderful person both inside and out but I’m afraid that your life must end here.”

Before he could prep his swing, you pulled away and grabbed the nearest pot, launching it at him, the ceramic breaking against his head making dirt rain down upon both of you.

Not even a second passed before his axe was flying at you, lodging itself into your neck, nearly severing your head from your shoulder. You should’ve been thankful really, thankful that Sungchan had given you a quick death, not his usual route since it was so painless and easy for both the victim and the assailant.

He liked a struggle, but for you he made an exception out of love so that the last thing you’d see was him, your lover, before everything stopped.

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petersasteria · 5 years ago

Text

Miss Universe - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Requested? Nah

Tom Holland Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞!𝐓𝐨𝐦

𝐘/𝐂 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲

* * * *

"Darling, why didn't you pick me up at the airport?" Tom questions as soon as he enters your shared apartment. "You knew I needed help with my suitcases so, why the fuck weren't you there?"

"Gee, hello to you too." you roll your eyes. "I was at modeling sch-"

"Modeling school again?!" Tom bitterly laughs. "I don't want to rain on your parade, but you've been there for almost a year and nothing's happening. Just give it up and try some other dream. I swear, I really don't see you as Miss Universe. I'm sorry."

Tom hasn't really been supportive of you and it hurts because you've been together for three years now. You thought he'd be supportive of you ever since you opened up about your dream. He thinks you don't have what it takes to join such a big pageant.

"Try something else and then I'll support you." Tom smiles and kisses your forehead. He walks to your shared room leaving you in the living room whilst wearing the highest pair of stilettos that you recently bought.

You come to your senses, because you're finally fed up of how Tom has been brushing off your feelings like this. You take off your stilettos and walk to your shared room. "Why are you such an asshole, Tom?"

Tom stops putting his clean clothes in his drawer before turning around to face you, "What are you talking about?"

You huff, "I'm saying- it's unfair for you to live out your dream and I'm just here waiting for you to come home."

"Y/N, I'm just stating facts." Tom defends.

"No, you're just being an asshole!" you raise your voice. Tom glares at you and you let out a tired sigh, "You're so fucking unfair! All this time I've always been here to support you. I supported you and adjusted everything in my life just for you. I've supported you in every red carpet and every premier and every interview and all I want is support from you. The same support I gave you. Is it too much to ask that from you?! I've stuck with you through thick and thin and just because I'm willing to do that, doesn't mean I don't have my own dreams that I want to achieve."

"So, what now?" Tom shrugs and crosses his arms.

"We're done, Thomas." you say. Tom looks at you in shock, "What?"

"You heard me." you sass and pack your things in an overnight bag, "I'll ask someone to get my things."

Tom didn't stop you, though. He knew you were final with your decision. Soon, you leave your once shared apartment and Tom groans in frustration.

Tom unlocks his phone and lets out his frustration on Twitter.

Of course Tom's tweets didn't go unnoticed and you've decided to tweet too.

ONE YEAR LATER...

"There's nothing good on tv!" Harry groans as he checks every channel on tv. He stops on one channel, though. "Are you guys okay with watching Miss Universe?"

Harrison shrugs, "I don't really mind."

Tom doesn't say anything but he pays attention to the show. "Wouldn't it be cool if Y/N was actually a candidate?" Harry chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, that'd be cool." Tom whispers.

"Speaking of Y/N, is that her?" Harrison points. "She has a sash with Y/C on it."

Harry squints and looks closer, "Oh...wow. It is her."

"She did it. She actually did it." Harrison smiles. "This is great!"

Tom's phone blows up with notifications and he checks his Twitter and everyone has been tagging him and for some reason, he's trending on Twitter.

Tom decides to tweet:

Tom likes some tweets of fans until one tweet catches his eye:

Tom quotes the tweet: "Ms. Y/C of course! Y/C all the way! x"

A lot of people reacted and freaked out and started theories about you and Tom secretly getting back together. Some said that Tom was just being supportive which was something he failed to do before. He hopes that tweeting would at least be enough support for you.

An hour or so later, it was now time for the question and answer portion. You made it until the top 3. It's now your turn to be asked and you look absolutely stunning in your gown.

"She's breathtaking." Harrison says in awe. His eyes not leaving the screen. Tom would've smacked his head, but you and him aren't together anymore.

"Good evening Ms. Y/C." the judge smiles at you.

"Good evening." you smile back.

"How are you?"

"I'm okay. You?" you answer.

"I'm good. You look gorgeous tonight!" the judge compliments. You lightly blush and thank them.

"Okay, Ms. Y/C here is your question: what is the most important lesson in your life and how would you apply it to your time as Miss Universe?" the judge asks.

"I'm nervous for her." Tom says as he nervously bites his nails.

"She can do it." Harry says proudly. "I've been helping her for this moment and I know she can do it."

"She's smart. I trust her." Harrison states with his game face on.

"Thank you for that wonderful question." you start. "The most important lesson in my life is learning to get back on my feet and standing up with my head high after every bad thing life has thrown at me. I would apply this in my time as Miss Universe by overcoming the challenges and hardships that comes along with this big task. With this in mind, I can be more confident in achieving my goals and I hope that this will serve as an inspiration to everyone who doubts themselves. Thank you." You answer flawlessly and end it with a bright smile. The crowd cheers for you and so does Tom, Harry, and Harrison.

"Okay, I know she was smart, but I didn't know she was THAT smart." Harrison grins. Harry pulls out his phone and immediately tweets.

"Guys!" Harrison catches Tom and Harry's attention as he looks at his phone with a giddy expression. "Y/N IS TRENDING NUMBER ONE WORLDWIDE."

Tom sadly smiles to himself as he realizes that he was wrong for what he's done. Turns out, he was the one holding you back. It truly is a big wake up call for him.

A few minutes later, they're announcing the winner of the pageant. You and the two other ladies hold hands and look at the crowd. Tom, Harry, and Harrison are at the edge of their seats.

The host announces the second runner up and it wasn't you. The second runner up gets her sash and flowers and stands on the side. You and the other lady are now facing each other with nervous smiles as you hold each other's hand.

"Finally, the moment we've all been waiting for. Thank you for sticking with us for so long." the host says with a grin. "Miss Universe 2021 is..."

"The suspense is killing me. Why do they do this all the fucking time?" Harry says watching everything intently.

"Miss Y/C!" the host announces.

You cry tears of joy as they crown you, give you flowers, and a sash. "Ms. Y/C you may take your first walk as Miss Universe."

With that, the pageant is over.

Tom decides to tweet too:

* * * *

I took so long to do this mainly bc of the fake tweets sksks

Lmao if u squint, that's my picture for y/n's icon

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shots #tom holland blurbs #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

Text

I thought he could help us (Dean Winchester x Reader)

[Supernatural-Masterlist]

Summary: You were sure that you guys will never be able to beat Chuck, or better said, God. After literally trying everything, an idea popped into your head. Of course you would not tell anyone, knowing the guys, especially Dean, would freak out. So you did what you thought was right: sneaking out one night to go & talk to Chuck.

Words: 2,872

Warnings: angst, language, Chuck being Chuck, protective Dean, mentions of cheating, fluffy ending bc I can´t write a heartbreaking story

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You should all be happy right now. Everything you had ever wanted was right in front of you. Dean, the best boyfriend you could have ever imagined. Sam, who was like a big brother to you. Cas, the awkward friend you had never wanted but also somehow craved. Last but not least, Jack, who you would die for in a heartbeat. Being hunters had never been easy. The supernatural beings that lived in the dark corners always haunting you but you learned to fight them. They were scared of your badass team, not the other way round. So why, why the hell did Chuck have to make life so much harder for you? A few years ago, you all got together to fight Amara only to find out now that he had everything planned out for you guys. How fucked up could one being be? And how fucked up was it that this being was the God out of everyone?

“This is useless!” you breathed out.

The entire team was seated in the library, desperate to find something, anything slightly helpful. This was how your days looked like if you did not have a case. Just sitting around the big ass table, reading lore & hoping you would find a clue how to defeat God. Defeat God...was that even possible? Right now, you were not so sure but you could not stop now. Not after everything you had been through. This should be easy, right?

“(Y/N)…“ Sam sighed. “We´ve been through this, haven´t we?“ he tried reasoning.

“Well, apparently this entire thing doesn´t help one bit. I don´t understand how you guys can just sit there & do the same shit over & over again. We´re fucked, okay? The sooner we realize this, the better.“ you started growing frustrated.

“Sweetheart…” Dean started speaking up.

“No, Dean! I´m tired. Clearly, reading books for days is not the answer. We need to start thinking outta the box, y´know?” you were hinting your idea but not daring to speak it out loud. They would kill you, for sure. Or ask if you were insane. How could you not in this situation.

“Out of the box...Means what exactly?” Dean looked at you in confusion, obviously not knowing what you were truly saying.

“Look, (Y/N), we have three hunters, a nephilim who is stronger than everything I´ve ever seen & an angel.” this was Cas´ voice that made you look up to him.

“We can do this together, (Y/N), I´m sure!” the confidence in Jack´s voice made you smile slightly. He sure was a little naive but he just wanted to keep the team positive which was cute, really.

“You know what, guys? I need a little break. You do, too. Let´s just stop for today, clear our heads & start again tomorrow. Now, how does that sound?” you faked a smile, unaware to the others. You had become quite trained in faking emotions. That came with being a hunter, you guessed.

The others nodded at you, closed their books & made their way out of the library.

It was 10 pm when you checked the time. As far as you could tell, the entire bunker was asleep, which was good considering the thing you were about to do. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Dean sleeping soundly. Ever since the two of you had started sleeping in one bed, the nightmares were not as frequent anymore. You silently made your way out of your shared room, only taking your phone with you. A few hours prior, you had already prepared an outfit & placed it in the garage. This way, you would not wake anybody. Still, while walking down the halls, you tried to be as quiet as possible, making sure nobody was up & wandering in the bunker. Arriving at the garage, you let out a breath you did not know you were holding. You started thinking now. Was this really the right decision? Everyone else would have said that you were about to commit suicide. On the other hand, you did not really have a choice. If you did not do this, you would die anyway. There was nothing left to lose. Stripping out of your oversized t-shirt you once stole from Dean, you imagined to conversation you were about to have. Then you stopped for a second. What if he decided not to show up at all? He was not able to track you guys, thanks to Cas who burned some sort of marks into your ribs. Throwing on your outfit, you knew you had to give it a try. Just telling him your coordinates, in a prayer, of course. He had to show up. Before the overthinking got the best of you, you tucked your phone in one of your pockets & made your way outside in the chilly air. Due to the adrenaline you felt, you could barely feel the coldness hitting your skin.

After a while of walking, a park bench came into your view. Right at a crossroad. You had never been there but that was what you wanted to achieve. Being as far away from your family as possible. There was not a single car which somehow comforted & scared you at the same time. Seating yourself onto one side of the bench, you fiddled with your hands in your lap. A few deep breaths steadied you & after a couple of minutes, you were sure that you were ready. It was now or never.

“Um...hi, God...Chuck, I mean. Here´s (Y/N), you know, the one who´s with the Winchesters & stuff. I know you can hear me & you´re probably asking yourself why the hell I decided to pray to you. Funny enough, I´m sorta lost. We are, actually. I know you could kill me if I give you my location now but honestly, I don´t really care right now. Look, I just wanna talk, okay? I´m alone here, it´s just me & I hope you are open to talk to me here, Collar Road 16. I´ll be here until the sun starts to rise. If you don´t show up, okay, that´s fine but I would really appreciate it if you decide to come. I´ll be here.” your voice was low, scared that someone would hear you even though you were completely alone. Checking your phone, you had no new notifications. Perfect, you managed to sneak out. It was Chuck´s turn now. The sunrise was hours away so you hoped he would come & talk to you (& not kill you, that would be nice).

Seconds turned into minutes & minutes into hours. You started losing hope. How dumb were you to think God wanted to talk to you when you were literally trying to find a way to kill him?

“Kinda dangerous for you to be here alone, without your boyfriend to protect you, don´t you think?” Chuck´s voice startled you & you looked at him in surprise. Not wanting him to sense your nervousness, you cleared your throat & straightened your posture.

“I can handle myself, thanks for your concern.” smirking at him, his eyes bored into you which sent a shiver down your spine. You felt so uncomfortable under his presence that you almost forgot the reason you two were here.

“Attitude, I see.” he chuckled.

“You were busy, huh? Letting me wait for so long.”

“Actually, no. Just wanted to test your patience.” Chuck had so much fun & your anger started to rise. You knew though, that one wrong word could have you killed so you took a deep breath.

“I wanna talk to you.” you stated the obvious.

“I figured that much. So? Go ahead.” Chuck turned so his body was facing you, signaling you that he was paying attention to what you wanted to get off your chest.

“I´m pretty sure you know about our little...plan to, well, you know...stop you?” the last part came more out as a question, not wanting to cross any lines. He was God after all. He raised his eyebrows, motioning for you to continue.

“I´m not gonna lie, we didn´t find shit, okay? Like, we´re stuck. And I hate the fact that we´re at a point where almost everyone thinks the only solution is to fight each other. Yeah, I don´t agree with everything you did but that doesn´t mean that I´d like to kill you. You´re God, after all, you created this beautiful place which does have flaws, I´m not gonna deny that.” Chuck let out a laugh at that & you kept going.

“I´m tired of keeping this fight up. Hunting the supernatural, I´m fine with, I can deal with that but fighting against you? That´s something I really don´t wanna do.” you rambled. Even tears started forming, you did not want to cry in front of him but you could not hold back any longer.

“Who knows you´re here, talking to me?” he completely ignored everything you just said & earned a confused look from you.

“Really? That´s what matters? Nobody, okay? I didn´t tell anyone because I knew they would try to stop me somehow. Could you, like, give me any reaction to what I told you?” the frustration was audible & the tears now were forming because of his ignorance.

“(Y/N).” he started. “I hope you know that, out of all of them, I like you the most. That´s why I came here, that´s why I let you talk. Would Sam or Dean sit here, I´d kill them, well, obviously making it look like an accident, I´m not dumb. You´re special, (Y/N), you should be grateful you´re still alive. I´ll give you a choice. Either, you start working with me & you´ll see why I act that way or...you´re going back to your boys & we´re officially at war. Just know, if you walk away now, I won´t be as kind. Your decision, darling.” he shot you a smile but stopped when he saw the rage inside your eyes. He thought you would join him, he really did. You knew your answer, though.

“Fuck. You. You. Asshole.” your voice sounded monotone. You could not look at him anymore, all you did was getting up & running away as fast as possible, scared that he might follow you. Obviously, he did not. You made your choice & even though he was mad at you, he knew preparing for the fight was a better idea.

While you were running, the tears streamed down your face. Why were you so upset with Chuck´s answer? It was not like you did not know him & his intentions. You just truly thought you could change him. The sun had already started rising & you just hoped you were not too late. You were not in the mood to come up with a lie when someone of the guys asked you where you were. Forgetting you should enter through the garage because it was way more quiet, you opened the main door, flinching when it squeaked. But before you could even process that, you could hear a rather mad voice from downstairs.

“Look who decided to show up.” Dean sounded so cold, you could barely recognize his voice. Looking down, you saw Sam, Dean, Cas & Jack all seated around the big table in the main room. Shit, you were gone too long. Of course, your day could get worse, amazing.

“Guys, I can explain, I swear.” honestly, you just wanted to win time to think of a lie to tell them.

“Cut the crap, (Y/N)!” Dean almost screamed. “Get down. Now.” his voice was demanding. To be honest, you were never scared of Dean but right now, you could feel yourself shaking.

“Dean, calm down, okay? Let´s talk about it like matures.” Sam always made sure you felt comfortable & right now, he could tell you were frightened.

“Calm down?! Sure, everyone would be completely calm if their girlfriend sneaks out at night & screws another man.”

“Dean? Are you saying I´m cheating on you? Are you serious? After everything you still don´t trust me?” you were full on sobbing, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably.

“I wish I could say I trust you but it makes sense, really. You being so distant lately & now, sneaking out in the middle of the night, hoping none of us realizes. You´ve got to be a bit smarter, though.” Dean was hurting but he did not dare to show it, wanting you to feel bad.

“(Y/N)? You do owe us an explanation.” Cas´ voice was calm & made you feel a bit more at ease.

“Maybe she should just go back to whoever she was fucking, that´s better for all of us.” Dean said these hurtful words without even looking at you. He hated seeing you break down like that. You were taken aback. Dean, your Dean, wanted you to leave. This was all a big misunderstanding. As much as you hated it, you knew you had to clear things up. If you were about to leave, then at least with making sure Dean knew you were not cheating on him.

“Please...let me explain, please.” pleading, you looked over to Jack but he would not meet your gaze. Your eyes wandered off to Sam´s & he was the most understanding in this situation which you were thankful for.

“Sit down, yeah?” Sam pulled a chair out for you to sit. The others took the chairs opposite of you so you were facing them all. Well, not all, Dean´s eyes were glued to the floor & you could not even be mad at him. You were aware of his trust issues, of course.

“I´ve been distant because we were continuing a work that brought us nowhere. I tried figuring out what we could do to...to keep this upcoming fight away. I knew the only way was to talk to…um, you know, to talk to God.” that made Dean snap his eyes towards you. No, you did not. You looked into his eyes, seeing the disappointment & that hurt you like crazy.

“Um, anyway, I waited until you guys were asleep to go out & talk to him. Obviously far, far away from the bunker, I didn´t wanna bring you guys in danger.” while you said that you made sure to look rigt at Dean so he knew you were mainly talking about him.

“He showed up after I prayed to him. We talked, well, more like I tried to convince him to stop this stupid fight. All he said was that I could join him & work with him or I go back to you guys & the next time he sees us...he´ll kill me, us. Then I started running back home, he didn´t follow me if you´re concerned about that.” you hated how your voice shook trough your words. You were met with a silence but not a bad silence, the faces of Sam, Cas & Jack were full of relief. Mainly because you were alright but also because they knew you just wanted to help. Dean´s expression, on the other hand, you could not quite read.

“We´ll leave you two alone for now.” & with that Sam got up & rubbed your back. He motioned for Cas & Jack to follow him. Now, you were left with Dean only. Not knowing what to do, you decided to speak up.

“I´m sorry, De-.” but you were cut off by his voice, now much softer as earlier.

“He could´ve killed you, sweetheart. He could´ve killed you & I wouldn´t even have had a chance to say goodbye. The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me, okay?” Dean´s eyes were glistening & you felt bad that you were the reason why he felt that way.

“I´m so so sorry. I shouldn´t have done this, I know. I just...I didn´t know another way. I thought we had a chance if I go talk to him. I was wrong & I´m sorry I scared you. And I´m even more sorry that you thought I´d be cheating on you. I love you, Dean. Only you. Forever, I promise.” a few tears rolled down your cheeks & Dean got up, walked over to you & took you in for a long hug. You cried into his shirt, just glad he was with you.

“I know why you did it, I do. You always want to make it easier for us & I appreciate it. Just, next time you have such an idea, promise me you tell us, me at least. Then we can work something out, together, something way safer, okay? Just promise me.” he whispered into your ear, his words carefully chosen, wanting to make sure you knew how much he felt for you.

“I promise, Dean.” you looked up at him only to find his eyes already focused on you.

“I love you, (Y/N).” & with that, he pulled you in for a kiss that showed you how much he cared for you. Maybe you could not convince God but you had the best people & you were sure you would figure something out sooner or later.

Published (06/24/2020) by Cathy

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lilxmcrtes · 4 years ago

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My URL, The URL Meme

Send Me A URL and I’ll Respond With My Opinions... | @thornstocutyouwith | Mun

Roleplaying/Writing

My favorite muse(s) of theirs and why

Gosh dang it. You’re really gonna make me pick? Alright... for now I’m gonna go with Lief because he’s a Good Boy (tm). So sweet and caring to Oliver. Their relationship is so nice when Lief isn’t bringing / cooking wild animals in his home x’D Also I just enjoy his view on things. So simple, and amusing at times

My favorite interaction/thread of theirs

Again. Pick?! Hm... That food fight in the IMs was pretty funny x3 Aeron and Jace making play bites their Thing (tm) was also good. Or that thing with them as kids playing with dino toys together. It wasn’t a thread but it was so freaking cute

My thoughts on their unique characterization/interpretation of their muse(s)

CONTENT. ALL THE C O N T E N T!!!!!

Anyone that gets to see such content should feel blessed. You have SO MANY muses and they’re all so unique and real. Also seriously love how they connect in this relationship web that I’ve only seen part of

My thoughts on their writing style as a whole

Good shit bro. Sometimes a little overwhelming but good

Situation(s)/Plot(s) I’d love to see their muse(s) in

ALL OF THEM??!?! But to be more specific, H.unger G.ames or T.he G.ood P.lace plot would be cool. Ooo A.merican H.orror S.tory? C.oven or A.pocolypse? Omg humor me with a C.ells At W.ork AU. ( Eira and Tancred can be the white and red blood cell!!! ) Or another anime, P.arasyte? U.mbrella A.cademy?! D.etective P.ikachu / P.okemon?!?! All the plots Thorn.

Someone else I love seeing them interact with

I honestly don’t read a lot of threads n stuff outside of what I’m doing. Sometimes things will catch my eye but otherwise... heh... I do be seein u with ofwondersandhares a lot tho. So there’s that?

Anything else I want to say about their roleplaying

I really don’t get why people don’t write with you more. There’s a lot of opportunity right there for people. :/

And did I mention content?! You know so much about your muses. I aspire to be that in tune with these guys one day

If We Know Each Other

What I Think Are Their Best Qualities

Honesty. I mean sometimes it can be pretty blunt but I don’t really have to be guessing what you might not be saying. I figure if you have a problem with me you’ll tell me. Which is kinda relieving to me. Helps when I overthink.

Also ridiculously imaginative. I mean do I really need to elaborate on this one?

What I Think Are Their Strengths

Besides the answer to the above question, you don’t take things to heart too much, which I admire since I do that all the time. It’s great you can brush things off and move on to other good things without getting too caught up in being upset

A Memorable OOC Interaction Of Ours

First game night. Absolutely one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Hilarious. Can’t wait to do it again. The fact that we named the killer Asher was AMAZING

Why Others Should RP With Them

Hello if it’s not clear from what I’ve been saying then idk how to help you. The sheer vastness of content for all the rp you could ever want is right there man. So much opportunity! All the little details and plots too!! Bonus, you get a friend that will give you head pats- no, wait. those are mine. But still, good fren! *pats their head* A lot of friENDSHIP can fit in here

How Others Should Approach Them

You could toss them some memes. Pretty sure they crave them lol ( Not like they don’t post about it ). And as a multi I am well aware of the specifying muse deal but I don’t think they mind so much that they won’t answer. You’ll just get whatever they roll lol BUT definitely specify muse if you can bc like I said, as a multi, it’s just better that way especially with the number of muses they have. OR you could do the big brain move and IM them “Hey I wanna write with you but I have no idea where to start with your muses. Do you have a preference?” and you guys can talk about who would mesh well together and then you can send memes or write a starter or even get a starter! Pretty sure it’s the same for anyone.

Funny note on that one tho. I think they approached me ooc by just sending my a post in IMs. I don’t even remember what it was or why they sent it. I was wildly confused but ya know. Gotta start somewhere lol Point is, you’ll be fine approaching them however you do. Just don’t ghost.

Other Roleplayers I’d Recommend To Them

You could write with the Teares’ siblings ( in the verse where they are related at least. Haven’t talked about if that’ll be a main thing or not ), baby sis @the-wonderland-jinx and Aeron’s twin @faultycode. The other muses on there are also great.

@klavz is a great Klaus imo. The dialogue is so on point. Like I could actually hear Klaus saying those things. Whether you feel the same is up to you but... definitely give ‘em a chance.

There are others but it’s more of a general ‘I like them’ rather than having specific reasons you’d mesh well with / be interested in them.

Anything else I want to say about them

I think I’ve said quite a lot already lol Anything more is pretty much a repeat

I like writing with them. I like talking to them. I think they’re pretty cool and I think other people ought to check them out. A summary by me

If We Have/Plan To Interact Together

A plot I’d like to write with them

Ooo. Um. I know a lot of plots probably got lost bc I’ll come up with an idea and then get distracted with something else. But if I remember any of those definitely lol Also now that I’m on a fresh new blog I will heckin put that shit in a post so I don’t lose it.

That thing where Aeron drops into Wonderland and runs into Soulless!Asher is still in my drafts if you still want that to be a thing. So not all things were lost! lol

But getting back to the question, outside of those sort of things, and being more specific than just everything... T.he G.ood P.lace plot seems good. Pretending these people got into ‘heaven’ when they’re actually in a special hell that tortures them psychologically by picking a set of people that would eternally torture each other bc their personalities and behaviors clash perfectly. Asher ( or all your deadly sin demons really ) would definitely get a kick out of that I bet. Especially on Aeron. Ooo and Oliver.

A muse I want to introduce to them

Max. He’s a muse that’s gonna be on my other multi. He’s a soft boi like Oliver but not as fragile. Very friendly, and actually not human! He’s a changeling that ended up being raised human. Still working on him but I feel like he is basically the peak of my creativity lmao

A ship/broship I’d like to propose to them

I mean I know we mentioned it but Post!Oliver and Tancred would be cool. And I say Post! bc I’m pretty sure Tancred would stay the heck away from him otherwise lol

Also! Lorelei should meet Killian sometime. I’ve never really figured out her and Oliver’s relationship soo... It’s bound to be interesting whatever I do on the fly lol

A thread with them I’m excited about

Every time I see you in my notifications I get excited. But I suppose I am pretty excited for that band ask to turn into a thread 👀

Anything else I want to say

At this point, you might as well follow them if you follow me. Spice up your dash with whatever they’re into for the moment. Find new interests. Learn how to develop your muse

Please read that with the same energy as ‘fuck around and find out’

#long post tw #( look at all this love!! so much effort was put into this )#☆ 》 answered #thornstocutyouwith #☆ out of compassion 》 ooc ☆

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princeanxious · 6 years ago

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“Egg-celent” TSS- Patceit

Warnings: Aphobia, sympathetic deceit

I was requested to write this prompt with anyship, i gave it a shot xD , all errors are mine, and i hope ya’ll like it bc it’s almost 1 am for me.

Prompt: “You’re famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you’ll go egg my ex-partner’s house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm” AU

Prior/extra info: Patceit AU where Patton is Famous(and has a youtube and uses it for good) and just moved into Dimitri’s hometown, and Dimitri is also a youtuber but a much smaller one, known for amazing stage/costume makeup artistry and the peculiar way that one side of his face is covered in freckles and the fact that his eyes have heterochromia. Patton is also really tall(6’4) and Dimitri is really short(5’2).

———

‘Hey, /PatPuffballSanders, wanna help me go egg my ex’s house this weekend? I’d bet it’d be sp-egg-tacular.’

-posted at 10:23 pm, by /BoopDiSnek

The short makeup artist hadn’t expected things to escalate this far, and well, in all honesty, he hadn’t expected anything to happen at all. Perhaps it was the fact that Patton Sanders was famous, known well for his pretty voice, sneaky puns, dad humor, and growing popularity as a voice actor.

He was a ray of sunshine, and readily used that talent on every social platform he could to make people smile, but primarily on Youtube. The tall puppy of a man had a pun of the day, animal shelter promo of the week, and a monthly charity stream where he’d invite his friends and other youtubers of all kinds to play games and skits and challenges to raise money for all sorts of causes.

The puffball has a moral streak a mile wide, and has a segment for ‘Dad Chats’ in his videos with his viewers about how they should choose go about certain issues, and how their choices and feelings would affect their decisions, among other topics. He wasn’t good at words, but he tries to be the best influence he can, and that much was evident in any of his videos.

Perhaps it was the fact that Dimitri was still heartbroken, his boyfriend dumping him a week ago for someone else after a year and a half of dating. All because he was a ‘killjoy’ for not feeling sexually attracted to the man. It wasn’t even that Dimitri didn’t want it, he just hadn’t felt any of the sort towards his ex yet and didn’t feel the need to fake an act. It hadn’t sat well with his ex-boyfriends ego, apparently, as was evident in their last fight leading towards their breakup.

The words ‘freak’ and ‘prude’ had indeed stung, but not more than ‘unlovable’ had, the sentence burned into the forefront of his thoughts as his ex exclaimed it.

And maybe Dimitri had been a little out of it, typing the sarcastic message through his angry tears.

Even when pressing the post button had sent a jolt of nervousness through him, having tagged his favorite ball of sunshine, he’d never expected a response. It was evident in the comments his followers added to his post, concerned about his full week of silence, that the question had been silly. Patton? Patton Hart Sanders? The Patton Hart Sanders, egging a house? Sure, Patton had just moved into Dimitri’s hometown, but their hometown was big enough that he’d probably never run into the voice actor anyhow. And Patton just wasn’t that kind of person.

In any case, his phone had been left on the charger as he went to make some tea, and had almost spilled it everywhere when he returned 10 minutes later. A single notification from Patton Sanders himself sat, waiting to be read.

‘Now, I don’t know about eggin’ a house, Kiddo, but you sure have got me on the ‘Egg’ of my seat, ‘fryin’ to know whats eating at you. You feeling okay, Di?’’ It was a private message, sent two minutes ago, and Dimitri was barely breathing.

Okay, so maybe Dimitri was pretty gay for Patton, it was a popular type of crush, nothing very real, and that was all. He looked up to the man, definitely. However, there was no way in heaven that Patton Sanders had privately dm’d him. He could scarcely believe it, even after triple checking that this was an official Patton Sanders account. Perhaps it was unprofessional, but Patton seemed genuinely worried and was trying to reach out, and that made Dimitri feel guilty.

“Hey Pat! Don’t worry about it, I was just joking around.” He squinted at the sentence, scrutinizing it for any particular error before sending it, Patton’s response was almost immediate.

“Something tells me you weren’t, but i’ll let it slide for now, kiddo. The question remains, are you feeling okay?”

“Honestly? No, but i will be. Aphobia sucks, though. Some dude my ex turned out to be.”

It took Patton three extra minutes to respond, a hesitance present in his response. “Oh goodness, that sounds bad.. on second thought, that egging his house idea doesn’t sound so mean after all, Di!” Dimitri snorted, gently waving off the others suggestion through another message.

Back and forth they went for another hour, talking about video ideas and plans and possible collab ideas. Perhaps Dimitri was in over his head, he’d never collabed with anyone before, but he wasn’t going to turn Patton's suggestion for a stage makeup challenge for a charity livestream down.

Eventually they both went to bed, and time moved on.

Dimitri picked himself back up and threw himself back into his videos, breaking the silence with a short explanation video followed by his regularly scheduled videos. By the time Friday rolled around, Dimitri had all but forgotten about his question to Patton. Over the course of the week, both of them had gotten closer, talking about their town and suggestions of places to go, and promises to meet up that hopefully would not become empty.

It was mid-afternoon when Dimitri, who was currently mid-edit thankfully and not mid-makeup mode, got a knock on his door. Confused, he wandered to his front door and opened it, peering through his glasses at the outside world.

Well, attempting to peer, as suddenly Dimitri is met with a blue sweater-clad chest and a happy squeal of excitement coming from the man standing at his door. It takes two seconds for Dimitri to blink upwards at the taller man and recognize him as Patton Sanders, it takes Dimitri two more minutes for his brain to catch up with Patton’s excited rambling.

And to catch up with the fact that Patton is hugging him.

He notices Patton has a few things in one arm, most notably, a couple cartons of eggs. He can’t help but crack a smile, completely flabbergasted that Patton actually thought of going through with this.

Dimitri’s thoughts are going wild, and he’s pretty sure he has a headache coming on, but instead of addressing it, he plays it cool and invites the other in and decides to make tea for the both of them.

When Patton pulls out two black sweaters, one turned inside out,along with a mask and some toilet paper, Dimitri can’t hold back his giggles. He misses the way Patton lights up at the sound, and lets Patton know that they really weren’t going to egg his ex’s house. The relief is evident in Patton’s voice, “Thank goodness! I don’t think we’d fair too well in the dark!”

Dimitri can’t help but agree, adjusting his glasses. No, not even his contacts could save him for the depth perception nightmare that was aiming in the dark, plus, they’d easily get caught. Absently, Dimitri moves to hand the inside out sweater back, flipping it right side out now that the dark interior wasn’t needed, only to pause. His eyes caught on the graphic print on the front of the sweater, adjusting it in his hands so he could see it fully. He paused again, squinting at the familiar design.

It held a cute albino snake curled around a small round ornament, blepping contently with the words ‘It cold’ next to her. Under the graphic, the name of the snake was presented in pretty cursive lettering, ‘Nova.’

“Pat.. is this?? My winter merch??” Dimitri could barely hold back his disbelief, glancing up at a flustered Patton. Patton owned the merch of his pet albino python, Nova, and goodness gracious Dimitri needed to sit down.

“In my defence!! Nova is cute!! And she's even cuter when happily curled around you!” Patton huffed, arms crossed as he blushed, though unashamed at his remark. Dimitri’s mind went a hundred different ways at that, before just putting his face in his hands and sighing.

After calming down a bit, he had an idea, and glanced up at Patton who blinked at him nervously, afraid he’d messed up somehow.

“Wanna hold her?” Patton’s bright grin was worth the brief stuttering of Dimitri’s thoughts.

With permission, a picture was taken of Patton with Nova wrapped around his shoulders, captioned ‘Nova found her #1 fan, it seems!’ and posted on both of their social accounts.

And if the media went a little shipping crazy at the two’s meeting, that was fine by them.

(The End?)

I might draw somethink for this but idk yet.)

#sanders sides #patton sanders #sympathetic deceit #patceit #luka writes #luka’s aus

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trashinaglass-archive · 6 years ago

Text

Make It Work

Tom and Y/n have to plan a wedding but have no time together.

Request: Hi can you do an imagine with Tom where him and the reader have been dating for a while and are engaged but they are both famous so it’s been rough to find time to be together and plan the wedding and they get frustrated with each other and fight and he goes to RDJ for advice and she goes to his mom and rumors start flying but it ends in fluff? Thank you btw! I love your writing!!!

A/n: A. Concept.

Thanks for the request! It was fun to write.

I tweaked it jussst a little bit where reader isn’t famous, has the regular 9-5, because I imagine that would be more frustrating bc she has time but he doesn’t so she has to sit around waiting for him. Hope that’s okay. You can totally attack me if it’s not, I understand😂

Seven months ago, the love of your life proposed to you. Tom was the best guy you had ever met. He was a literal angel sent from above, and you were over the moon that he loved you as much as you loved him. You wouldn’t change anything about him except for one thing- his schedule. He was always super busy, being one of the world’s favorite movie stars does that sometimes.

Being engaged, you had a lot to plan. A ceremony, a reception, a guest list, dresses and suits, and so much more; Although you loved weddings and you were so excited for your own, you didn’t want to do any of this by yourself. You wanted Tom to be apart of the process- maybe he didn’t care about as much as you do, but you’d still like his opinion and support.

You were sitting at a table eating lunch at work as you looked at some wedding stuff. You were currently thinking about the cakes, your bridal cake and Tom’s groom’s cake. You talked to some girls you work with asking them about their wedding cakes and where they got them. You narrowed your choices down to three. You wanted to schedule a day that you and Tom could do a cake tasting to decide what you wanted.

You pulled your phone out to call Tom, hoping he would be able to give you an actual answer. Every time you try to talk to him about the wedding planning or ask him questions, he always answers with ‘I don’t know right now’ or ‘I’ll think about it’ or ‘I’ll tell you later’. It was so frustrating.

“Hey, darling,” Tom answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Hey, when are you going to be home? You said sometime next week, right?” You asked him.

“Yeah, about that. There was a problem with something so our schedule got pushed back. I won’t be able to make it for another month or two.”

“Tom,” you asked in shock. He told you earlier this week that he would have a few days off next week, and you would be able to get some of your planning done.

“Babe, I’m sorry. I can’t help when this stuff happens,” Tom told you. You began to feel annoyed, not wanting to talk anymore but not hanging up the phone either. “What was happening- why did I need to be home next week.”

“I was looking at some cake stuff, and I wanted to schedule a day to go to these bakeries for cake tastings, but I’ll guess to put that off for another month too.” You felt your eyes begin to well up with a few tears. You were suppose to have fun planning your wedding, not postpone and push planning back because your fiancé can’t get away from his job for two seconds.

“Y/n, it’s cake. Just pick something and move on,” Tom told you.

“Tom, you can’t just call up a bakery and everything be great. Some places have shitty cake so we have to go to the place and make sure we actually like their recipes. We have to pick flavors. You have a groom’s cake- you have to choose what you want that to look like. I don’t know if you want Spider-Man or golf or what. I can’t just pick something, Tom. I have to make decisions and it would be much more helpful if I had a fiancé that was willing to help me,” you huffed out.

“I am more than willing to help you, but I have responsibilities and a job to do. I can’t just walk away because my girlfriend can’t chose a fucking cake flavor. Stop being so ridiculous, y/n.” You felt a tear fall from hearing him so mean towards you.

“You could at least act like you care,” you said, voice cracking slightly.

“I do care, y/n, but I can-“ Tom started to say before you cut him off.

“But you can’t be available for me. I get it, go back to your work that’s obviously way more important than your fiancée and your wedding,” you said before hanging up the phone. You saw Tom’s name flash across the screen calling you back. You denied the call and immediately turned your phone off, going back to work.

// Tom pov //

Tom tried to call back and rolled his eyes when he realized you had shut your phone off. He couldn’t believe how childish you were being. You were upset with him because of cake? It’s ridiculous. He walked toward the catering on set and sat down at the table with Robert, Zendaya, and Jacob. They immediately noticed how pissed off he was.

“What happened?” Jacob asked him.

“Y/n called me- I told her I wouldn’t be home for a while because of scheduling and she freaked out because she needs me to be with her to taste cakes. It’s stupid. She’s acting like a bratty little kid,” Tom ranted to his friends and costars. “She hung up on me and turned her phone off.”

“Wow,” Zendaya said in disbelief. “You don’t realize how wrong you are, do you?” Tom threw his hands up in confusion.

“What am I doing wrong? It’s a fucking cake- we all know what cake tastes like,” Tom tried to defend himself before looking to Robert. “You’re the married one- Isn’t she being ridiculous acting like this over cake?”

“Tom, it isn’t about the cake,” he said as he tried to get Tom to understand. “This is something that happens once in a lifetime. That girl has probably dreamed about getting married and having a wedding since she was little. She wants her day to be perfect, and she wants to plan it with her betrothed by her side. She wants to share this time with you- have fond memories to look back on, and you aren’t giving her that. You’ve been engaged for seven months, and how much have you done to participate in planning your wedding?”

“Nothing,” Tom said as he sighed in defeat.

“And that shows her that you don’t care. I know you care- all of us know you care, but you need to show y/n that you do because that’s all that matters.”

“What am I suppose to do though? This is still my job. I can’t get on a flight every time she asks me to.”

“But she’s also a priority, your highest priority, and you have to schedule time for her- exclusively for her,” Zendaya said. “Don’t let work keep you from giving her the time and attention she deserves, that you both deserve.”

“You should talk to Jon,” Jacob chimed in. “He’s not heartless, I’m sure he’d give you time to be with her if you need it. And looking at what I just saw, I’d say you really need it.”

Tom clinched his jaw as he thought about what his friends told him. He nodded his head before taking a deep breath.

“Right, I’ll go do that now,” Tom said as he stood up. “Thanks for the advice, guys.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Robert requested. Tom nodded his head telling him he would and walked to find the director of the film.

// Your pov //

You were finishing up your shift at work before heading to Tom’s family home to have dinner. His family was always so welcoming and loving to you, they often invited you to join them for dinner and tonight was one of those nights.

You were still upset with Tom from your conversation earlier. You can understand that he wasn’t able to come home due to scheduling, but it was almost like he wasn’t willing to try and make time to be with you. Whatever they told him was it, no questions or comments about it. It was super frustrating but it is what it is, you guess.

You turn your phone back on as you walked to the parking lot and to your car. You saw you had three missed calls from Tom and a text.

Thomas❤️: Call me when you decide to turn your phone back on

You could almost hear the attitude behind the words. You checked your other notifications before putting your phone in your pocket and driving away. You pulled into Nikki and Dom’s driveway, walking into the house and heading straight for the kitchen.

“Hey, y/n,” Paddy said as he saw you first. He was sitting at the table doing his homework while Nikki was cooking dinner.

“Hey, Paddy. Nikki,” you greeted as you placed your bag on one of the chairs.

“Hi, darling. How are you?” She asked.

“I’m good- glad the days almost over. Can I help you with anything?” You offered.

“No, I got it. Thank you though,” she replied with a smile. “Had a bad day?”

You sat in the chair across from Paddy as you talked to Nikki. You lightly shook your head before venting to your soon-to-be mother in law, if Tom could show his face and plan a wedding.

“I got in an argument with Tom and...” you began to say. You sighed as you thought of the right words to tell her. “I feel like he doesn’t care about trying to have a wedding. Like he’d rather just show up and get it over with, and I don’t want that, you know? I mean, I understand girls are always more excited for weddings than boys, but he could at least pretend he cares.”

“What did he do?” Paddy asked. You felt bad talking badly about his brother in front of him because you knew how much he looked up to Tom.

“He told me that I was being ridiculous because I want him to be involved with the wedding planning,” you answered looking toward Nikki as you finished your sentence.

“He doesn’t mean it, y/n. He loves you, and I’m sure he wants that just as much as you do but he’s probably wrapped up in work and filming. He can’t drop that whenever he wants. I wish it was easier for you but that’s life.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s just so frustrating when he says he can come home one week but changes it the next. I can’t do anything with that.”

“I know, darling. But just remember, this is just a moment in time. Soon, you’ll be married and happy,” Nikki started to say.

“And then you’ll only have to worry about if he put the toilet seat down or not,” Paddy chimed in making you and Nikki laugh.

“Exactly,” Nikki said pointing to Paddy. “Don’t stress yourself out trying to get everything planned. Enjoy yourself and this time you have because before you know it, you’ll be walking down that isle and it’ll be a brand new day from there. New memories, new challenges, new arguments, new achievements- think about that when you get upset with him because that’s why you’re doing all this, that’s why it matters to you.”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you told her. She always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. You were so grateful that, along with a great boyfriend and fiancé, you also gained an amazing family that loved and supported you as if you were their own.

Three days later, you were at work filling out paperwork. You hadn’t talked to Tom since the argument- you always missed him when he called and he always missed you when you called. It was frustrating, but you reminded yourself of Nikki’s words and it made you feel better.

“Excuse me,” you heard a voice say. “I was looking for someone- about yea-high, (your color) hair, (your color) eyes, a bit temperamental but hot as fuck.” You were so focused on your work, you didn’t even recognize the voice until you looked up, seeing Tom standing in front of you.

“Tom,” you gasped in surprise as you stood up, walking around the desk and hugging him. He held you tightly, rubbing your back as he buried his face in your neck.

“What are doing here?” You asked as you pulled away from him. He wiped your eyes as a few tears escaped.

“I talked to Jon,” he started to tell you. “When you hung up the phone, I was so upset with you- I won’t deny that, but I spoke to Robert and he told me how much of an asshole I was being. And I went straight to Jon and told him I needed to be with you for a while. I’m sorry for being such a dick, and I promise I’ll make up for it. I love you, and I want to help you plan for the wedding- from cakes to colors, even down to the napkins. I want to be with you and help you and support you. If you still want me too, at least.”

“That’s all I wanted,” you told him before looking down. “I’m sorry, too. You have a crazy schedule, and I can’t expect to be the top priority every time. I didn’t mean to stress you out or upset you when you really couldn’t get here.”

“That’s my job,” Tom started to say. “But my job is also to treat you the way you deserve and be there for you. That is my top priority from now on. You are my top priority. I can’t promise I’ll be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice, but I do promise to make an effort for you.” Tom reached out to grab you again, pulling you to him for another hug. “I love you, y/n,” he said placing a kiss to your head.

“I love you, Tom.”

I don’t know who the hell is in charge on movie sets but I’ll stick with Jon bc he’s the only one I know.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader

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hollandsmushroom · 6 years ago

Note

hmm let’s go with... a classic best friends to lovers and when you tell him you love him he pushes you away and then your friendship falls off and you don’t talk for months but when you see each other again you’re a little cold towards him bc he literally handed your own heart to you after he had stomped on it and he asks why you’re being so off and it leads to an argument about how he doesn’t get to be mad when he’s the one who ended things but then he reveals his feelings

Word Count: 1,542

Let me know what you think!!! Comment, Reblog, anything, it makes me dance a little!!

If you don’t like it ask again and I would be more than happy to re-write it for you!

You don’t know how long you had been in love with Calum, longer than you cared to think about, but if you were being honest, probably since very soon after you met him all those years ago. You desperately didn’t want to be in love with him, you knew he would never love you back, it’s Calum, the boy who says that love is a scam, and that you shouldn’t try it. Why did he have to be the one you feel for, couldn’t you have fallen for practically anyone else. Sitting in the corner of the party you watched as everyone danced and drank, you were trying to drink it away, the love of the man that you simply couldn’t have. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him dancing with some of his friends laughing at a joke one of them had told. The smile of his face made something inside of you tense, a feeling you knew all to well but this was the last straw, you couldn’t attend one more party, or show, or even just hang out with him, another time with the pang of hurt in your chest every time you saw his eyes. You needed it gone and it appears that tonight was gonna be the night. Pushing yourself up from the couch that had now been invested with couples practically going at it, you made your way to him, tapping him on his leather clad shoulder to gain his attention. He spun around to meet your gaze, a grin spreading across his cheeks as he saw it was you, his best friend.

“Hey Y/n, whats up?” he didn’t seem drunk at all, and that took you off guard, expecting a slightly more easy going and delirious Cal, he must be driving, you thought to yourself.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” you rung your hands, fiddling with your fingers out of anxiety. His brows furrowed at the request, why would you ask if you can talk, you two could always talk, wait was it something serious, these thoughts crossed his mind as he nodded his head and let you guide him away from the crowd, finding an empty bedroom in the large house. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress shifting beneath his weight as his gaze was glued to your pacing figure.

“Y/n, what’s up, are you okay?”

“Cal, I have to tell you something, promise not to freak out?” You ignored his question.

“I promise, now tell me whats going on, you’re kind of scaring me,”

“Fuck, Cal, there is no easy way to say it, so I am just going to,” You had halted your pace, standing in front of him and looking in his eyes, “I love you, and not in the way a person should love their best friend, no I love you in the way that makes my heart skip and the room spin, I love you in the way that when you hug me it feels like my skin is on fire,” You rushed all that out in one breath before going quiet, there was a long pause between the two of you before he finally broke the silence.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he pushed himself up off the bed leaving crinkled sheets in his wake, standing opposing you.

“I don’t know Cal, fuck, just say something,” you cried.

“I don’t feel the same, I never will, and I think its best if you leave,” he left the room after he said this, taking a sip of his drink as he walked out, leaving you in awe of what had just happened. You must have stood there for a good 5 minutes, not moving just standing trying to process and once it did you ran, down the stairs, grabbing your coat from the place you had left it on the couch in the strange living room, and out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone, getting an Uber and making your way home by yourself. You cried yourself to sleep that night, not knowing if you had just fucked up the best friendship of your life.

You woke up the next morning with a little bit of a hangover, not having drank that much it was nothing that a little ibuprofen couldn’t fix. Reaching out and grabbing your phone to check for messages, the screen illuminated and no notifications appeared on the screen, your heart sank, he hadn’t tried to contact you. Maybe he just needs a little space, you assured yourself as you went to take your medicine. You repeated that for a while but as the end of the week came you decided to text him, and after another week and no response you tried again, after that one you gave up, his name falling down in you recent contacts list, you tried to move on much like you assumed he had.

It had been 2 months since you admitted your feelings to Cal and had him shut you out of his life, a decision which you had no choice but to respect but that didn’t stop the sting of rejection. You were out at a bar with a couple of girlfriends, sitting on a stool behind the wooden counter, tapping your fingers against the polished wood as you waited for the drink you had ordered. You felt leather brush past your arm as a tall tan man sidled up to the bar next to you, you payed little attention to the man, that was, until he spoke, ordering his drink in the voice you knew oh so well but hadn’t heard in months. You looked up at the man, eyes landing on the tosseled hair of the man you couldn’t help but still love, even if he had broken your heart with out much care.

“Here you go darling,” the Bartender laid down a napkin and set your glass on top, sliding you your drink. Calum looked down at who the bartender was serving before him, his chocolate brown orbs widening as they landed on you, his heart skipping at least one beat before beginning to rapidly pound in his chest.

“Y-y/n?” he spoke your name like a question, the syllables feeling uncomfortably unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Hi Calum,” your tone was bitter and unforgiving as you stood up from your seat and began to walk away, your drink in hand weaving your way through strangers.

“Wait,” you heard from behind you but you decided it was better to keep going and not confront the man that had broken your heart. You though you were home free, escaping confrontation, that was when you felt a large calloused hand on your wrist, you turned back and there stood Calum.

“Can we talk, I haven’t seen you in a while,” he offered, the last part of the sentence causing you to scoff and roll your eyes, he noticed your unrelenting attitude towards him but decided to bet on it dissipating throughout your conversation.

“Fine,” though it was one word, four letters, it was the most venomous thing that Cal had ever heard, your tone laced with spite and hurt causing his face to scrunch up in confusion.

“Why are you being so weird, I just wanted to talk,” he asked, not wanting understanding how you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Oh well fuck Cal, I don’t know, maybe its because old best friend is trying to talk to me like he didn’t viciously and cold heartedly reject me and then fucking ignore my existence for the past two months,” your words cut deep in him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n I-,”

“Sorry isn’t going to save you this time asshole, you treated me like shit, like I didn’t fucking exist, do you know how shitty that feels?”

“No, but-,”

“No, no you fucking don’t!” you exclaimed before lowering your tone to one of hurt, “The one thing that I don’t understand is how could you be just so fucking mean?”

“Because I didn’t know what the fuck to do,” he shouted, gaining the attention of a couple other bar patrons.

“What?” you spoke indignantly.

“The person I am in love with admitted that they loved me and I freaked out, love isn’t for me, I always get hurt,” he sighed.

“So you thought completely ignoring my existence was going to help?” you were still angry but something inside of you softened, “You really thought I would hurt you like they did?”

“No, well, it’s just that I may have been in relationships before but the way I felt about the didn’t compare to how I feel about you and finding out that you felt the same way made it all to real and I got scared,” he was about to say more, but your lips cut him off, working together in a slow kiss, one that emanated forgiveness and apologies. You pulled back for air, looking him in the eyes.

“Hows that for real?” you panted

“If thats what being real is, then I am okay with it,” he chuckled before pressing his lips to yours again.

Taglist

@mylilbreadstick @cthoodsthetic @isabella10028 @dont-drop-that-lunchable @moancurly @numberonepoetryexpert @neonsgravestone @calumsbitch4ever @lukethecalumstan @caswinchester2000 @damselindistressanu @myloverboyash @heartbreak-5sos @singt0mecalum

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mothmansfriend · 5 years ago

Text

when i’m sad oh god i’m sad (pt. 2)

link to pt. 1

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning), suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

There are a number of places that are simply uncomfortable to sleep. Barely sitting up and using the chairs provided by the previous tenants as a pillow is certainly one of them. It takes Remus a moment to identify what woke him up as there's another round of knocking on his door and he doesn’t want to respond. It’s bright out,the sun is blocked from his figure by the curtains covering most of the windows. He hears Roman’s muffled voice as the locked doorknob jiggles, “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is”.

Their footsteps move away and Virgil speaks, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that-” his voice fades as they enter the kitchen.

Remus can barely pick himself off the floor before his phone lit up with a notification.

the shittier twin: You good? LMK when you’re coming home, Virgil is lowkey freaking out (received: 10:14)

He stares at the words willing his brain to focus as he decides, maybe he should reply.

He sends a photo of a fat pigeon he took outside a club him and D got kicked out of a few weeks ago. It would be clear that the picture was taken at a different time, but does get message of ‘I’m alive’ across. Which is about as much as Remus is willing to communicate to people that haven’t even tried to contact him before now. How sad is it that his twin brother didn’t even check on him until six days later. Or maybe he should be asking if it’s sad that after four days Roman still hasn’t noticed that he’s home, or that it took Roman six to even ask? Remus spends all this time in the theatre and in the arts studio, and still Roman was the only one to ask, though at the request of someone who wants to get mad at him. He considers if maybe that he is a bad person, and that isn’t something he normally would care about, but if he weren’t then people might have checked on him. He usually hangs out with D almost everyday and he swears he’s never been gone more than maybe four days. But no one else seems concerned at all.

He considers reasons why this might be and gets stuck on Roman’s comment that he hasn’t been gone that long, and the implications then of him being gone longer. Things that don’t really make sense, but he knows losing your train of thought and getting distracted is a part of ADHD, but maybe, this is much more concerning. How does he know that he’s only ever been gone so long, maybe those lapses are more than a few minutes of zoning out. Which leads to, does Remus know who he is during these lapses? The contrast between the two prince twins have always been clear in their behaviour, Roman who follows every word their parents whisper in his ear. The boy grew up to be an actor after years of who takes any command without thought at that chance to be on top, and revelled in praise. It’s the cowards way of survival, are you really living if you’re not you? He knows Roman wasn’t quite loving that, but he still complied. Remus has always known exactly who he is and who he always will be. But the uncertainty of who he is in those spaces that seem to be taking up more and more space, maybe he;s been following someones script too?

He’s constantly changing his mind and forgetting where he is, are his feelings his? If everything the thought he knew about himself is slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass than how does he make it stop?

—

Virgil slides into the recently empty chair next to Roman the second Patton gets up to ask the waitress for another round of coffee, he steals one of Roman’s sausages and speaks, “By the way, I’m catching a ride to your place with you and D”.

Roman squawks at the sausage thief, “Why? I already told you Remus isn’t home!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Yeah I know, just humour me. I went to talk to Joan before we left and Thomas said Remus texted to apologize for missing practice, he’s never done that before! I just wanna come check, you can make fun of me later or whatever.”

“Fine, whatever, I know you’d just show up anyway. I don’t think him texting Thomas means anything though, even if it is weird.”

“Well we can agree to disagree then.”

—

The entry to the apartment the Prince twins share with D was just as full of banter as expected. D and Roman irritating Virgil without effort but Virgil matching that with his own comebacks and determination to check on Remus. “Alright, Emo Knightmare, let’s go knock on his cave door so I can know you again, that he isn’t home” Roman drops his bag next to the couch and heads down the shared hallway of D, Remus, and the storage closet. D walks past him with comments of a essay due tomorrow and disappears. Roman walks down and knocks on the door sternly once maintaining eye contact with Virgil knowing there will not be a response. Virgil follows him and he knocks again after a moment and jiggles the knocked door handle. “See? I told you he’s not here, Virge. There’s nothing to be worried about, if he doesn’t show up by tomorrow I’ll go look for him. You know how he is.” Roman turns and leads them back out into the living room towards the kitchen.

Virgil pauses for a moment watching the door before he follows, “Can you text him? I’m just worried, Thomas said that he actually texted to apologize for not showing up today. You know when Remus is out he never remembers to charge his phone, it just seems weird.”

Roman exhales and wordlessly pulls out his phone shooting off a text to his twin before pulling some leftovers out of the fridge to offer to Virgil despite the fact they had eaten not long ago. Virgil accepts and he puts it on two plates for the microwave. Roman’s phone vibrates on the counter with a text. The emo leans over to read and snorts, “Wait, is Remus’s name actually ‘the shittier twin’ in your phone? He just send a picture of what appears to be an obese pigeon, that doesn’t answer my question at all!”

Roman shrugs, “Of course it is, and yeah that sounds about right, it’s like he’s trying to communicate through hieroglyphics, he’s just telling us he’s fine.”

Virgil’s dark eyes examine Roman’s face for any reflection that he’s just trying to make him stop bothering him with his concern, but when he sees nothing he drops his defensiveness, “Yeah, okay, he’s your brother, he’s kind of like a cat I guess. He always comes home right?”

The microwave beeps and Roman slides the extra plate in front of Virgil, “Exactly, he’s just like this, I’ll text you when he comes back. You don’t need to worry about it, Virge.”

Virgil shoots him a small smile before taking his plate to the couch closely followed by the oldest Prince twin as they settle down with Netflix until they need to leave for their respective classes.

—

Roman blearily wipes his eyes as he wakes up in his dark room and rolls over to check the time. 2:34am wake up and bathroom break time. He briefly considers just rolling over and waiting four or five hours until he needs to get up for class, but decides there’s just a higher chance of getting a restless sleep the rest of the night. The hockey captain rolls out of bed standing in his room shirtless and only wearing a random pair of soft sleep pants and stumbles out of his room, crossing the living room and entry way he’s about to try the handle of the dark bathroom door when it opens to reveal a tall dark figure.

Roman jumps back with an admittedly embarrassing squawk before recognizing the dark figure to be a freshly showered, exhausted, and almost weak looking Remus. The two stood in silence for a moment, Remus not even reacting to the sight of his brother. Roman awkwardly laughed for a moment, “Holy shit, Remus! I didn't even realize you were home.”

Remus stares emptily, moving to walk away without replying, Roman stops him with a hand on his shoulder, “Are you like, uh, okay? You kind of look like shit”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say as suddenly Remus’s face hardens into a snarl, “Oh fuck you, Roman.” His voice cracks halfway through but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the venom in his voice, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Christ! If you’re going to be an asshole then nevermind, I just wanted to check up on you. You know, like a concerned brother just might do?” Roman fires back suddenly feeling defensive. The tone of voice Remus uses almost sounds scared to him but he doesn’t have the energy to pry at Remus in the hallway less than 6 feet from D’s door at 2:30am.

“You don’t get to play any kind of concerned brother role right now! You don’t just get to decide to be concerned one day, it’s all about appearances with you, I dont fuck with that!” Remus’s voice raises as he gets more and more riled up, his voice sounds like shit as if he hasn’t used it in days, “Tell me when you think I got home, Princey, huh? You don't know shit about me and it’s time you stopped asking like you do.” He steps towards Roman edging back down the hallway to the living room.

“Why am I supposed to know when you got home?” Roman fires back, “You’re an adult! You’ve taken care of yourself fine for years, I’m not your parent I don’t need to know where you are twenty-four-fucking-seven!”

Vaguely, Roman hears D’s bedroom door open and feels brief regret that was smashed by Remus shoving him backwards. “You don’t need to know! But, did you ever think to wonder? Did you ever once care enough to ask? No! I don’t remember ever being gone more than three or four days.”

Roman recoils for a second in confusion but counters standing his ground, “What does that fucking mean? You own a calendar, a phone, you should know your average in the last year has been like five to seven days, you can’t blame me that you decide to go on a bender every 6 months or less. Can’t you ever grow up?”

“It means I don’t know where I was for two to four of those days at least! You self absorbed prick! Fuck!” Remus crumples for a second, his facial expression looks so, lost. He violently grabs and tugs on his still damp hair. He stands back up face guarded once again. “I know I never go out without a plan, I have paid some fucking terrible prices for that that you never need to know about. But, you’re telling me that I was out there and I don’t remember it? And no one thought to mention anything to me? And you’re asking if I’m ‘okay’? Fuck that, fuck you. I’m going back to my room, and ideally I’ll fucking rot and die before I have to look at you again,” Remus seethes before turning and slamming his door without waiting for a response.

Roman sags at his brothers exiting remarks, making tentative eye contact with D who waits in the dark hallway. “I don’t know what to do,” Roman says quietly.

D moves towards him moving them to the couch offering a comforting touch to the remaining twin, “Roman, I cannot tell you that I have any idea about what just happened. But, it seems like he just wants you to be there for him, in his own weird displays of affection he does love you and I think maybe he’s scared sometimes that you don’t care for him, and he lashes out. But right now, you need to go back to sleep so you can go to your boring nine am lecture, and I’ll try to spend time with him tomorrow. Sound good?”

Roman examines D, letting himself feel vulnerable for a moment but trusts that D knows what to do. He’s known the twins since high school, if anyone knew it would be him. “Thank you, D” Roman whispers, leaning into the little affection for a moment before he stands up and moves them back down the hallway.

Roman goes to the bathroom as originally planned but thinks about the things his younger brother had said. How much is he missing? What does it mean for Remus to simply not remember days at a time? Is it because of drinking too much or something else?

As Roman tucks himself back into bed, preparing himself for the restless sleep he had been trying to avoid. His mind wanders, and he can’t help but think that maybe he should be questioning blood stains on Remus’s carpet a little more.

#sanders sides angst #sanders sides #remus sanders #hockey au #university au #creativitwins #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus prince #roman prince #virgil fosc #bipolar disorder

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pyotatochip · 5 years ago

Text

just like dancing | hyunjin x reader

what’s up losers. this one goes out to @starhhj thanks for always hurting me so good <3

just like dancing | hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader wordcount: 4k inspired by: sidekick by walk the moon summary: meeting up with a photographer for a day of modelling turns into making a maybe forever friend.

ur a model

well. aspiring model.

ur instagram is a buncha pictures that u make ur friends take of you whenever y'all hang out

u have booked a couple photoshoots and submitted them to magazines

u even got published a couple times!!!!

not in anything big, just photography journals and portraiture mags

BUT IT'S SOMETHING!!!!

photoshoots are hella expensive tho fuckin. rip ur wallet

so u join a facebook group, which is something u never thought u would do

the idea was that aspiring photographers and aspiring models would meet up, get experience, and maybe make professional relationships

you? young and cute

all these photographers? 36 yr old dudes

they always invite you to their studios in their houses

to do artsy half nude shoots

so u were pretty unwilling to meet up with most of them

(understandable)

but then this one schmuck posts in the group, just when u so happen to be looking for weekend plans

“looking for a model this saturday, autumn themed shoot at han river. the leaves are really pretty right now, i wanna catch them before too many fall”

han river was a pretty public place, so u DEFINITELY felt safer

and like, ur school is pretty close to there, so ur familiar with the area

u comment “i'm free all day, give me a time and i'll meet you there”

after it posted, you clicked on his profile and

fuck

he was not 36

and he was CUTE

u freaked the fuck out

this kid looked like he was ur age. and he was hot.

should u delete the comment?

why would u do that?

bc ur nervous?

why are u nervous?

bc the photographer is a hottie?

is that really a good excuse?

before u could debate with urself much longer, ur comment received a like and u got a private message

hyunjin: hi! u look great! meet at the main gates of yeouido park at 9am?

“u look great!”

“U LOOK GREAT!”

(jooe sunbaenim is quaking)

screech

you: so early! okay! what kinda look are u going for?

hyunjin: haha i wanna get that fall morning light!!! i’d like it to be pretty autumnal. warm colors, maybe a sweater/scarf/jacket combo? if u have something like that. minimal makeup & hair, if you're into that stuff. hopefully that's all okay (^ム^)

you: sounds good! see you saturday!

you spend the next few days at school literally just thinking about how ur meeting up with a cutie on saturday

u rlly dont know what to do with urself

i show ur friend a pic of him and she's like “HOOYKY FUXKJGN GODJ”

which was basically your initial reaction too

but then shes like “he looks familiar??? is he a model too???”

u have literally no idea but it's completely possible

like, it's a waste to have that face exclusively behind the camera

and suddenly the two of u are like. obsessively going through his instagram bc WHAT THE FUCK he’s like….. REALLY GOOD

like, he does a lot of portraits, but the focus isn't necessarily always the person in the photo

the composition and background are just as important in every shot and it…. shakes u

there’s a few pictures of him too, all of which are v aesthetic

but how could they not be??? have u seen his face????

he also tags literally every person in his pictures whether they’re models or just his friends while they’re hanging out

and he photocreds everyone who takes pics of him!!

you are literally…. fallin’ in love

because he was cute and had a good eye and wrote cute captions and was so humble!!!

ur friend is like “wow we stan a pro”

“he looks seriously familiar tho, right?”

she's like “yeah i'm confused why have i seen his face before”

and ur shook bc like… if u had seen this boy irl there's no way you would forget how cute he is

finally,,, it's the weekend

you get on the train and head to han river early in the morning, dressed up and made up for your ~autumn photoshoot~

as soon as you get to the gates ur like.. holy fuck

it's so pretty

the leaves are a mix of orange and red and green and there's a couple dusting the ground too

no wonder hyunjin wanted to shoot here

ur kinda aimlessly wandering around the gate when u suddenly spot

him

he’s wearing a bomber jacket and has a camera bag over his shoulder

and his neck is literally at a 90° angle while he's looking at his phone

ur like…. that cant be ok

u get a notif while ur walking up to him and its a message from him asking if u were on ur way

“actually, i can't make it”

he looks up and immediately laughs. “hi! y/n?”

u wave. “hi hyunjin!! nice to meet you!!”

y'all exchange pleasantries and he's suddenly like

“your outfit is literally perfect” he steps back to look at u. “exactly what i had in mind”

u put up a peace sign. he laughs again.

uh oh

u really like his laugh

and his smile

and his everything

uh oh

he leads you further into the park where there's less people and more trees

“i brought another jacket and a couple of scarves in case u wanted something different” u say as he's helping you take off ur backpack

“oooooo a professional”

“not even”

he asks you if he can take a boomerang of u for his instagram story and u do a lil twirl

he gasps

“that was cute!!!!”

he giggles while he's posting it

what is with this kid and his giggles

u cant

if he keeps doin it at this rate, it'll probably be the death of u

which is

cool

he puts your backpack on and pulls his camera out of his bag. “let's take some pics in this outfit and then i'll peek at the other options. i like this look a lot”

and then… he just starts taking pictures

u literally laugh

“where do you want me?”

“wherever,” he goes, checking the pics real fast. “i tend to go for candid shots”

suddenly,,, his entire instagram flashes in your brain

the pictures of people laughing and mid walk and reading books

u thought all the models were just. really comfy and professionals and shit

IT WAS ALL A LIE

“so uhhh…” u literally dont know what to do

u have Never done a shoot Like This

“just walk,” he said. “look around. i'll follow”

you: no fear

hyunjin: just walk

you: one fear

u nervously laugh again and he's hitting his shutter like A MILLION TIMES A SECOND

“okay…… i guess i'll walk then”

u push his shoulder while u walk past him bc he's cheesin at u way too hard for u to handle

“ow”

“that didn't hurt”

“it hurt my heart :(“

ur walking backwards and laughing and he's just. only looking at you through his camera.

so. u wander.

u take a lovely morning walk down the pretty paths at han river

u really were so scared that u would be completely directionless, but hyunjin ends up asking you to do specific things also

“go up on those rocks”

“i'm literally wearing slippery ass boots do you want me to die”

“do it for the shot, y/n”

sIGHHHHHH

so ur up on some rocks trying not to fall into a fucking river

and when hyunjin shows u the pics he takes….

okay

yeah

he was right

the entire time he was shooting, he would just strike up conversation to make you comfy

asking how long you've been pursuing modelling

if u wanna do it as a career or if its just a hobby

about ur family

about ur pets

(he asks a lot about pets)

ur sitting on a bench and he's crouched a few feet away to get those ~angles~ when he asks

“where do u go to school?”

“kyunggi”

hyunjin gasps. “no way! me too!”

you fuckin ALMOST DIE

because u fuckin brainblast and have a recovered memory of seeing hyunjin In Your School's Uniform in the lunchroom and suddenly IT ALL MAKES SENSE

you hop up from the bench and like. YELL.

“OKAY I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED REALLY FAMILIAR ARE YOU KIDDING”

he stands and literally screams and u are. so shocked. “i thought you looked really familiar too!!!! i figured i just had seen your pics on the facebook group!!!! i highkey stalked ur instagram bc i couldn't figure out where i knew you from!!”

okay, wig

he stalked you also which is….. great

“what year are you???”

“i'm a junior!”

you push him.

“boi what the fuck! me too!”

“no way!!!” he's laughing “that's crazy!”

he literally pulls out his phone and opens instagram

u have never seen a person use instagram stories as much as this bitch

like, he intermittently pulls out his phone to get shots for his story

u almost threw hands when u were sliding around on some stupid wet rocks bc he was like “JUMP AGAIN I NEED IT FOR A BOOMERANG”

he does this cute lil hair flip and adjusts his bangs before he starts recording and u…. kinda wanna cry

“I KNEW Y/N LOOKED FAMILIAR”

he spins so ur in the shot with him and puts his arm over your shoulders

“WE'RE LITERALLY IN THE SAME YEAR AT THE SAME SCHOOL”

u laugh out loud

he laughs with you and u have to cover ur mouth so an uwu doesn't fall out

u try not to focus on his literally perfect eye smile as he hunches over his phone to post to his story

like,,,

those crescents

are so cute

and he has this lingering grin every time he laughs

and like. wow. lips. amirite. ladies and gents.

“i cant believe u go to kyunggi,” u say. bc u cant.

“what are the odds. out of all the people in that group, we end up meeting up”

u almost made a joke about it being destiny but then u were like oo no thats creepy dont say that

then hyunjins gasps

and u look at him

and he just looks at you wide eyed

and fucking

whispers

“destiny”

you scream laugh

he's laughing too

but on a real level ur like why would that have been super creepy if u said it but it was cute as hell (and a little heart fluttery) when he did?

he goes on saying it's crazy that you had never had any classes together over the years

“or any clubs,” u said

“yeah!!! what clubs do you do??”

“photography! which is why i'm shocked!!!”

hyunjin gasps again

wtf is up with this boy and his gasps

“i was gonna do photography but they meet the same days as dance!”

BITCH

WHAT THE FUCK

“I DONT DO DANCE BC THEY MEET THE SAME DAYS AS PHOTOGRAPHY”

his entire jaw drops off his damn face

“YOU DANCE TOO?”

“I’M JUST AS SHOCKED AS YOU ARE”

u literally can't believe

“we've been barely missing each other all this time when we could have been best friends :(“

oh ow

ouch hyunjin

that got u right in ur weak heart

like literally u might have a heart condition now bc he just hit u with the “we could have been best friends”

“sorry i already have a best friend”

DGDGSH WHY DID YOU SAY THAT

then he's laughing and ur like… oh fuck wheew

“well, sorry, i'm replacing them now. we have to catch up on lost time.”

and honestly………. he's right

number 1: y'all are both photography nerds

even tho you have begun to skew on the modelling side of it, u always loved taking pictures of scenery and u knew way too much about how cameras worked

and hyunjin really was like a pro

u had watched him adjust settings on his camera for white balance and exposure and everything

and judging by his instagram, he set himself up for some flawless editing too

number 2: y'all are both dance nerds

he tells u basically all his friends are in the dance club and have formed a lil dance crew bc of it

u say u used to take classes when u were younger but now u just go to the gym and hide in a practice room for a few hours every week

he does hip hop! which is so predictable but u still act all surprised

u tell him u used to do ballet but ur much more into urban dance these days

number 3: y'all both don't know how to stop laughing

like literally if either of you do anything remotely funny the other one is fucked for five minutes

ur pretty sure 90% of the pics hyunjin was taking were of you covering your face because ur literally GUFFAWING

and like, y'all ain't even that funny

but the more you laugh the less funny shit has to be for you to be crying

hyunjin told u to stop making him laugh bc his fingers were getting weak and he didnt wanna drop his camera

you, trying not to giggle: its ok u have a strap around ur neck u can drop it

hyunjin, tears flowing freely: PLEASE LET ME BREATHE

number 4: y'all both LOVE UR PETS

like idk man he tells u about kkami and u freak the fuck out because he's just SO EXCITED ABT HIS PUP

and hyunjin almost ditches u right then n there when u say ur more of a cat person BUT he forgives u because ur cat is literally named hot dog

this is highkey the most fun you've ever had on a shoot

like, you feel so comfortable with hyunjin

and every time you take breaks to peek at the pictures he's been taking

u like … literally stop breathing

he's so talented ;;

you eventually swap jackets and scarves and wander around more

and literal hours later hyunjin's like

“are u hungry”

u stare. “always”

he laughs. “do you wanna go to the convenience store and make ramen”

“i thought you'd never ask”

so y'all go to the conbini and pick out ya fave ramen packets

(and some chips and candy bc u have literally no self control)

hyunjin really tries to buy your food for you but you yell at him while ur checking out bc Boi. No.

the cashier: watched the two of you look at food and bump into each other constantly, touching each others arms and giggling the whole time

you: leave me the fuck alone hwang hyunjin or i'm calling the cops!!!

the cashier: ????????

u make ur ramen at the handy dandy hot water dispenser and carefully bring it back to a seating area in the park

“be careful it's hot!!!”

“hyunjin please, u act like i'm not a ramen pro”

“i just didnt want u to burn ur cute lil mouth, damn”

ur entire being goes WEE WOO WEE WOO

u literally almost choke on nothing and you just cough to try to play it off

hyunjin is having none of it

he's laughing his ass off

“wow that got you better than i expected”

“fuck off hwang”

he stands up to leave and u laugh and grab his sleeve

he's giggling before he even sits again

y'all eat ur ramen and chat more about school and hobbies

he tells u about this one time he almost got admitted into a cult

you: wow… pretty AND dumb

hyunjin, flustered: h-hey!

you tell him about how your cat is a rescue and his heart melts

there's a minute where you're staring at nothing in the distance eating chips

and hyunjin is just staring at you

his brain: hoe dont do it

his heart: doki doki

his brain: oh my god

“hey… are you still free all day?”

u look at him. “yeah, why?”

he opens a bag of gummies. “i'm supposed to meet up with some friends to go bowling in like an hour but i wanna keep hanging out. wanna come?”

you groan. “i'm so bad at bowling”

“we can be on a team,” he offers you a gummy bear and you take it. “i'll carry you.”

pls explain why an image of him holding you bridal style popped into ur head sgdhhf

“haha okay. as long as ur friends aren't lame.”

“they are, but i'll be there so it's fine”

“fair enough. i'm in.”

so y'all hop on a bus and head to the bowling alley that (apparently) hyunjin and his buddies frequent

(he's playing pickles with you in the back of the bus and you're giggling so hard that ur struggling to tell him to cut it the fuck out so you don't disturb the people sitting next to you)

((but also feeling his entire body press against you isn't the worst))

you've been to this bowling alley before

it's popular among younger folks because it's cheap lol

the two of you walk in and one of his friends immediately starts yelling

u freeze “dude i thought u said we were gonna be early”

he looked at his phone “we literally are”

this blonde kid is yelling hyunjin's name and ur wide eyed while u follow

“UR LATE”

“I'M NOT”

“IT'S 2:20”

“WE SAID 2:30!!!”

“TELL THAT TO LITERALLY EVERYONE WHO SHOWED UP AT TWO!!!!!”

hyunjin looks over to the group of his friends already bowling a game “oh”

u bust out laughing

hyunjin gets all flustered like “i-i thought it was 2:30!!!”

“who's ur friend, my perpetually late son”

“o-oh,,, this is y/n”

his friend sticks out his hand for you to shake. “hi, i'm chan. were you the model today?”

you grin “are you saying i look like a model?”

“OKAY!” hyunjin grabs your shoulders and you giggle when chan stutters without responding while hyunjin drags you to the counter to rent shoes and pay for a game

hyunjin is: flustered

he's all embarrassed because he was late and got yelled at by his fake dad

and then u went and,,,, u were so smooth with chan

he wondered if you had been flirting with him all morning because you actually liked him or,,, ur just a flirt

he grabbed your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his pocket so that he could pay for your shoes and game for you.

“hyunjin!!!!!”

“you wouldn't let me buy you food and you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me if you argue i swear i'll throw you down a lane”

you pout but you let him pay

and ur heart,,, it goes off, dude

like,,,, maybe,,,,,,, u would let him throw you sgdgshsh

y'all walk over to the lane his friends are on, bowling shoes in hand

“y/n!”

your face lights tf up. “seungmin!!”

hyunjin looks between the two of you probably six times while you hug before finally going “w-what”

you and seungmin look at each other, then at hyunjin

hyunjin: you know each other

you and seungmin, in sync: photography club

hyunjin: alright, well,

he announces to everyone your name and you were his new best friend and that if any of them had a problem with it they could talk to his fist

you, softly, but with feeling: f-fuck

y'all change your shoes and watch as his friends finish up their game

while they play, hyunjin points each person out and tells you their name, helping you learn all these new people

since u guys were twenty (20) minutes late, they were already almost done with the first game

they were all pretty good.

well. most of them were.

the guy hyunjin pointed out as jisung kept getting gutter, but he was having fun

everyone else kept getting strikes or spares and u were like oh god

you keep telling hyunjin that ur really bad at bowling

hyunjin: i'll teach you. it'll be like ghost.

you, softly, but with more feeling: f-fUck

you, realization washing over you: wait how would you even-

hyunjin: *giggles*

hyunjin's giggles.

send tweet.

the entire time you were entirely too conscious of how close he was to you

you could feel the burning on your shoulder, thigh, knee - all the contact points where his body bumped into yours

your knee bobbed involuntarily while you watched the game end, nervously anticipating your turn to hit the gutter

and suddenly, hyunjin's hand was gently placed on your knee

it stopped bobbing

you looked at his hand, then at him

he smiled, but kept looking forward

“relax. even if you're bad, i'll hype you up.”

it was barely above a whisper so you wondered for a sec if he was even talking to you

hhhhHHHHH THIS BOY

yall start bowling.

he was. not all talk.

like who the fuck is good at bowling

hyunjin, apparently

he fuckin. chucked that ball down the lane

it made a smooth curve and took out. every. pin.

you stared at the empty lane in disbelief as hyunjin got a couple high fives from his friends making his way towards you

"not bad, right?"

"bro what the fuck"

he laughed and held out a hand to help you up "we bowl a lot"

you didnt even process fully that he was pulling you out of your seat because it was your turn.

ur hands: sweaty

ur arms: spaghetti

ur vomit: on ur sweater already

not actually

u picked up the ball hyunjin had helped you pick and looked at him like a deer in headlights

"bro i havent bowled since i was six"

he giggled. "you can do this"

he walked with u and showed you his starting stance, gently adjusting the way your wrists twisted and patting your hip

u. tried to not blush. no word on how well you did.

he guided you through your walk up and when u let go of the ball..

…

……

YOU DIDNT HIT GUTTER

you SCREAMED

"BRO I HIT A PIN!!!!!!!!!!!!"

hyunjin gave you a Sick High Ten, laughing "now you gotta hit the other nine!"

you froze

fuck

the others were starting to calm down from the excitement of your first half-frame, anticipating your second hit

you watched your ball return from the lane n went over to grab it

hyunjin looked at you Once and was likr….. is that caspar the ghost

the color had DRAINED from you

u…. u hit a pin…… thats like the best u've ever done

n now you gotta TOP THAT?

"its like dancing," he said suddenly. u looked at him, desperate to hear advice in terms u understood. "even if you can go through the motions, it doesnt necessarily make you good. you have to trust your body to remember the motions, give it a little finesse, and that's when you start to get Really good."

you blinked at him

"was that supposed to be helpful"

"can you Shut the Fuck Up and Bowl"

you took a deep breath, adjusting your stance as hyunjin reminded you of the steps you needed to take

another breath

steps

swing

let go…..

roollllingngg…………

*HIGH PITCHED WAILING*

"I HIT FOUR PINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

hyunjin scoops u up in a hug, spinning you around

ur too busy SCREAMING to register whats happening until he puts you down

u stare at him a second

he stares at you

"GOOD JOB Y/N!!!!!"

you turn to seungmin, who also scoops you into a hug, the rest of the boys crowding around you

you didnt even have a chance to be embarrassed about the weird eye contact you n hyunjin made

or about how. everyone in the bowling alley was staring at you guys.

because like…… suddenly

you just made a bunch of new friends

and one of them

helped you hit a pin for the first time.

and maybe….

he was still holding your hand

and maybe that felt really nice.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin imagine

90 notes · View notes

ayellowcurtain · 6 years ago

Text

can you write one for elu where lucas sees some series of suspicious texts in eliott's phone and seriously thinks eliott is cheating on him (bc the texts are kinda obvious) which turns to him being kind of paranoid for a while (not long) and finding more "proofs" so finally he confronts eliott. crying and ofc eliott finds it ridiculous cause lucas is his everything.but it was actually idk just a classmate of eliott's texting their bf/gf from eliotts phone bc of some reason

can you write something april fools related? like prank goes wrong kinda thing? i mean i dont think any of them would make a break up prank but maybe they thought the other wouldnt take it seriously since its ridiculous for them to break up but then it gets a bit serious and sad but they're happy at the end ofc.

Could you write something with maybe Lucas overhearing some girls saying how hot Eliott is and him getting all jealous and territorial

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

Lucas loves Mika, but he doesn’t trust him completely. Sometimes he doesn’t think about consequences or doesn’t take things seriously.

He needed some company to go out tonight. Apparently he had a bad couple of dates and needed to forget about it tonight, but everyone already had plans and Lucas and Eliott were his last hope. Lucas agreed to it last night when Mika texted him, but now he’s not in the mood, too tired after a long day.

Eliott is excited to go out, so Lucas tells him to go with Mika and he will stay home, go to bed early if he can.

Eliott checks with him a few times while getting ready to see if Lucas haven’t changed his mind. He gives Eliott a long, passionate kiss before he lets him go meet Mika. He smiles to Lucas and says he’ll be home soon.

Lucas is relieved to be alone tonight. He woke up in a bad mood and had a stressful day at school, that’s probably why he and eliott were also in a weird funk, so it’s nice to he at the comfort of his house in complete silence. He takes a long shower, puts his and Eliott’s clothes to wash, etc.

While cooking something later, he puts some classical rock to listen to, looks around when he’s back to the bedroom, looking at their beautiful, comfortable, tiny oasis. Since he got his room back, he and Eliott redecorated (with Manon’s help) everything, bought some plants to hang on the ceiling next to the window, changed the beddings, donated some clothes so both their closets could fit into one.

It feels cozy, warm, safe, a little bit like a jungle.

Lucas already chose a movie to watch, crawling underneath the covers. Before he can press play, he decides to check his messages. Nothing yet.

Don’t be a babysitter. He knows how to handle himself.

He presses play, adjusting his pillow. It’s not the best movie, but it’s not a waste of time either. He puts another one right after, an action movie to keep him awake. 4 a.m and the second one is over. Lucas had to fight to not fall asleep during this one, so he turns his notebook off, putting it on the table.

Ok, his time alone could be over already if it was his choice, he misses Eliott and having his big, warm body to cuddle before falling asleep. But Lucas is happy that he’s out, having fun. He turns off his lamp, checking his phone and there’s some messages, all from Mika.

Mika sent him a bunch of photos. They’re apparently in a photo booth with a bunch of other guys and two girls. Eliott has his arm around some guy’s shoulders, seeming to fit it perfectly with the group, he’s really out going when he wants to so it’s not a surprise to Lucas how well he fits with Mika’s friends. The jealous side of Lucas doesn’t like how close the guy is to Eliott, but there’s nothing going on, it’s just him being possessive. And the other guy seems very young, younger than Lucas.

The last picture ruins his entire night in a second, making him jolt on his bed, sitting and opening the picture, zooming in. His boyfriend with his wet, flat tongue out and the guy is really close, nearly sucking his boyfriend’s tongue.

Mika posted something on instagram, tagging Lucas in it. He opens the notification and it takes him to the post. It’s a close up of that photo, only showing Eliott and that kid that he has his arm around, tagging Lucas and Eliott on Eliott’s tongue.

As he freezes, looking at the photo again, he can see comments coming it, a bunch of guys and some girls asking who the guy in the picture is, someone already answering with Eliott’s instagram. Lucas’ vision is blurred, he’s trying hard not to cry or to freak out.

This is what Lucille was talking about.

He tries to racionalize but somedays it feels too much and he just needs to shove some sense into Eliott. Lucas types and sends his answer to all the thirsty people.

He’s taken.

A minute later Mika deletes the photo. Lucas suddenly feels sleepless. getting up from his bed and leaving his phone behind, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, cleaning his face with his shirt afterwards.

Lucas was naive to think he would be enough for Eliott and that things would be different from what they were with Lucille. Maybe he got it all wrong and Eliott is happier when single or when he’s able to have whoever he wants, whenever he wants to.

And Lucas can’t do that, he’s too jealous and too insecure to be in an open relationship. He can’t seem to stop crying, a blue light enlightens his room, Eliott is calling but Lucas doesn’t answer, too riled up, he would probably say things he would regret.

He doesn’t know what to do, would much rather not have to see Eliott or Mika again any time soon, but it’s the middle of the night, he can’t just leave. Where he would go? Manon is not home, Yann is probably sleeping and he wouldn’t have the courage to bother anyone else with his relationship drama.

So he lets his feelings take over again, sitting on the floor, hiding his face on his hands. He can feel his heart shattering and once he cried everything he could, his walls start to build around him again.

Lucas feels tired, his body aching from crying for way too long. It’s just a stupid picture! He gets up from the floor, hoping to throw himself in bed and fall asleep for days, lock himself from the outside world.

But before he can reach his bed, he hears loud voices. Eliott and Mika are back. Mika is screaming his name and Lucas feels like punching him, not looking at his face ever again. They both barge in to the bedroom, Mika calling for Lucas again, almost running into him, standing in the middle of his room.

“Lucas!! Hi, baby!” He tries to hug him, but Lucas steps back. Eliott looks wasted and full of guilt and Lucas feels like punching him too.

“Can you leave me alone?” He has to gather all his strength to form a single question, Eliott takes a step forward, in front of Mika.

“Lucas...”

“Can you leave me alone?” He raises his voice, stepping forward too, ready to throw both of them out of his bedroom.

“It was a joke!! Nothing happened!” Mika explains loudly, laughing but he’s the only one.

“I DON`T GIVE A SHIT, MIKA!”

Eliott takes another step forward, putting a hand on Lucas’ chest, kind of trying to calm him down, kind of trying to stop him from getting closer to Mika.

“Nothing happened, Lucas. I swear...”

“It was more than fucking enough, Eliott!” He nearly screams again, looking at the boy in front of him, trying not to cry again. “You’re such a fucking idiot!”

Lucas can feel Eliott’s hand shaking on his chest but he can’t bring himself to care now.

“We are done, Eliott. I can’t do this.”

“No, no, no, we’re not done, Lucas.”

“Yes, we fucking are.” He means it, says every word looking into Eliott’s perfect eyes.

“Baby, we were just kidding, trying to make my friends’ boyfriend jealous.” Mika doesn’t seem to realize the seriousness of the situation, Eliott ignores him completely, freaking out inside, thinking that he’ll loose the man of his life because of a stupid joke.

“Yeah, it worked out perfectly, didn’t it?” Lucas looks at him and Eliott can’t have this anymore, he needs to talk to Lucas, so he turns around, trying to walk Mika out of the room.

“Get out, Mika, now. We need to talk.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about, Eliott.” Lucas answers, but he ignores, closing the door as soon as Mika is out, locking the door.

“We do, I won’t let you break up with me over some shit like that.”

“It’s not “some shit”. You kissed someone else, posted all over the fucking internet and expect me to be fine with it?”

“I didn’t kiss him, Lucas!!! I swear! Nothing happened. It was a stupid photo and as soon as I saw it I asked Mika to delete it.”

“So if Mika hadn’t posted it, I would have never known, even better.”

“No, that’s not it! He sent all the pictures to you!”

Lucas can’t hold back the tears, he’s so angry he can’t even think straight.

“I hate you so much right now, Eliott!”

Eliott is holding back his tears, desperate, holding Lucas’ face and trying to kiss him, put some sense back into his head, show him what they have and how Lucas doesn’t hate him but he pushes Eliott’s hands off of his face.

“Please, Lucas, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would get this upset.”

“I don’t care right now. I’m going to bed.”

“Ok...” Eliott doesn’t seem to understand, going around the bed to his side.

“No, you’re not sleeping here. Go cuddle Mika for all I care, I don’t want you here.”

Lucas is a lot shorter, but he doesn’t act like it, pushing Eliott out of his room. The other one is still in shock (and too drunk) to fight back, when Lucas finally stops pushing him, he tries to turn around and stop him, but it’s too late, Lucas slammed the door on his face and he can hear him locking it from inside.

#skam france #elu fic #eliott demaury #Lucas Lallemant #elu

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btsvt-adventures · 5 years ago

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Ice Skating AU - Secret Plans

A/n: So this was demanded from me, and since I’m on a seemingly never-ending flight to Europe I figured I might as well take this opportunity to write some heh. I have four hours I wonder how far I can get.

Update: I’m posting this on the floor of a train station in France bc our train broke down smh.... damn it SNCF

Pairing: Jihan (Jisoo x Jeonghan), Jicheol (Jihoon x Seungheol)

Warning(s): Nothing too bad, mostly just jicheol being dumb idiots hehe

Want more of this AU? Ask me here!

When Jisoo had asked Seungcheol if Jeonghan had any university friends he should invite to Jeonghan’s surprise party, the last thing he had expected his fellow skater to say was Jeonghan’s old ice hockey teammates.

“Team mates???? Since when did Jeonghan even play ice hockey?” Jisoo gapes, and Seungcheol laughs, taking a sip of his iced americano.

Seungcheol explains that Jeonghan, despite his current status in the figure skating world, actually used to compete as captain of his University’s varsity ice hockey team. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. I would’ve thought he’d have told you, or at least you’d have heard about it in the media. Han only started competing in figure skating in his senior year of university,” Seungcheol shrugs, and Jisoo’s eyes bug even more.

“Holy shit,” Jisoo breathes, sitting back against the sofa as he takes in all the information. “Wow… how did his team take it? I mean, losing their captain to another sport must have been hard,” he muses, and Seungcheol snorts.

“Han told me that they practically kicked him off the team so he could compete,” he chuckles. “It was pretty funny.”

Jisoo laughs, heart warming at the knowledge that Jeonghan had such a strong support system around him when he started. “I hope it’s a good idea to invite them. Do you have any way of contacting them?” Jisoo asks, turning to face Seungcheol so quickly he almost gives himself whiplash.

“Probably just try contacting Soonyoung. He’s a dance teacher now at a studio nearby, I think his Instagram handle is kwonhoshi96, so maybe try that and see how it goes,” he suggests, finishing up his coffee and standing up before Jisoo can ask just how Seungcheol has all this information. “I gotta go before my coach has my ass for being late again,” he laughs. “Unlike you, I can’t just waltz in with my coach slash fiancé,” Seungcheol teases, and Jisoo’s cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment.

“Y-bye!” he squeaks, fanning himself to try and cool his heated cheeks, taking a sip of his iced americano before grabbing his phone, keying in hoshi’s Instagram, scrolling through the hockey player turned dancer’s feed, stopping at an old photo of the hockey team. He can see Jeonghan in the photo, and giggles to himself when he sees Jeonghan’s short, poofy hair.

“Styling sure did him good,” he snickers to himself, sending Soonyoung a message before he loses his nerve. Jisoo sips his coffee, jumping in surprise when his phone dings with a notification.

[@JHongJisoo95] @kwonhoshi96: Oh my god this is so cool!! Come by the studio anytime today and we can talk about it I’m sure the rest of the guys would love to catch up with our old Captain!!!! 😍😍

He clicks the notification so quick, looking at the address Soonyoung had provided, jerking when he realizes it’s just down the street. He downs the last of his coffee, wondering if he should buy Soonyoung a coffee as well, then decides he might as well, as a show of good courtesy (and if Soonyoung didn’t like it, Jisoo wouldn’t mind another coffee).

Jisoo shows up to the studio with two coffees in hand, staring at the glass doors. It looks like a really nice place, but Jisoo can’t dance, not without his skates anyway. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, shooting a timid grin at the receptionist, who beams at him.

“Hi! Are you here for a class, or are you waiting for someone?” the receptionist, Chan, asks, and Jisoo stutters that he’s looking for Soonyoung. Chan nods, yelling towards the back for Soonyoung, before turning back to Jisoo.

He suddenly points at Jisoo, expression lighting up in recognition. “Oh! I know you, you’re Jeonghan hyung’s boyfriend!”

How the fuck???

“Chan, don’t scare him like that,” a voice chastises from behind Chan, and Soonyoung (or at least Jisoo thinks it’s Soonyoung) appears, smacking the back of Chan’s head lightly. “Sorry, it’s really nice to meet you Jisoo-ssi, I’m Soonyoung, and this is Lee Chan. Channie was also part of hyung’s hockey team, recruited him in freshman year,” Soonyoung laughs, and Chan nods eagerly.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice,” Jisoo bows slightly, and Soonyoung waves him away, laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, classes don’t start till 7 anyway. Come in, the studio is a much better place to sit and chat,” Soonyoung beckons, and Jisoo follows him in, with Chan right behind the both of them.

Jisoo settles on the floor of the studio, looking around at the full mirrors and blinking at his own reflection. He tells Soonyoung and Chan about his plan for a surprise party, and asked if there was a way to contact any of their old hockey team.

“Of course! We have a katalk chat that Jeonghan hyung never checks,” Chan supplies helpfully, and Jisoo snorts, shaking his head fondly.

“Sounds like him,” he snickers. “Would it be too much trouble to ask you to create a chat with anyone you think would like to come and surprise Hannie?” Jisoo asks, and Soonyoung nods, already working on creating the group chat, handing Jisoo his phone so he can add himself into the group.

Instantly his phones goes off continuously, and Jisoo scrambles to silence it, watching the number of unread messages climb quickly. “Yeah, we… talk a lot,” Soonyoung scratches his head sheepishly, and Jisoo nods slowly, scrolling through the chat to catch up, sending a quick message to introduce himself.

Jisoo grins, leaving the studio after far too long, feeling the excitement bubble at the thought of Jeonghan being able to see his old team again. They had set a date to organize the pre-party planning, and Seungcheol had so graciously agreed to come along (read: Jisoo whined until Seungcheol agreed). Jeonghan had already left for a two week conference for coaches and elite figure skaters, so Jisoo had the perfect window to plan for his boyfriend/fiancé’s birthday party.

He walks into the café with Seungcheol, fully expecting Soonyoung and maybe Chan. What Jisoo doesn’t expect is the big group of people seated around the table, all looking at him.

Why were there so many people looking at him?!

“Jisoo hyung, over here!” Soonyoung waves manically, and Jisoo inches nervously towards the big group of people.

“Uh… Hi Soonyoung and… crew?” he trails off quizzically, staring at all the unfamiliar faces, jerking when one of them points at Jisoo. Seungcheol skips off to go order his caramel frappuccino, as well as Jisoo’s usual iced americano

“Heyyyy i know you, you’re the skater hannie hyung took in last year right? congratulations on placing!! you did so well with the spinny thing hyung always does! I’m Seokmin, it’s really nice to meet you!” Seokmin greets sunnily.

Jisoo nearly chokes, because he’s mildly stunned at the sheer volume of Seokmin’s voice, and also because he literally just called Jeonghan’s signature quadriple flip a spinny thing. Before he can react, the tallest of Soonyoung’s group of friends trips and nearly faceplants. Surprisingly, none of them bat an eyelid, instead turning their attention to Jisoo. Seungcheol, on the other hand, laughs so hard he nearly spits out his liquid sugar.

“I’m Jihoon, the tall idiot is Mingyu, and thank you for inviting us, it’s a really nice thing you’re doing for Jeonghan hyung,” the smallest blonde offers his hand, which Jisoo takes, shaking it quickly.

“I’m Jisoo, Jeonghan’s uh.. student and boyfriend? And that’s Seungcheol. He’s a fellow skater and a good friend of Hannie and I,” Jisoo responds in kind, and Jihoon smiles lightly at him. Jihoon’s hands are calloused, and Jisoo wonders idly if he plays the guitar, or if it’s just from ice hockey. He’s about to ask, when Seungcheol had to open his mouth and ask possibly the most offensive question ever.

“Aren’t you a little small to be a hockey player?”

Immediately, Jihoon’s eyes narrow to slits, and he raises an eyebrow at Seungcheol. Seungcheol wants to smack himself for opening his stupid mouth.

It’s too late now, Seungcheol laments, pouting slightly when he sees Jihoon’s reaction. The cute, tiny hockey player already hates my guts.

“Aren’t you a little bulky to be a figure skater?” he snaps. Seungcheol looks taken aback, and Jisoo nearly snorts aloud.

Better play it cool, he thinks, before breaking out into the biggest grin Jisoo has ever seen on his face.

“I like him,” he declares, and Jihoon makes a face, nose scrunching cutely.

“ I don’t like him,” Jihoon mutters, refusing to look at Seungcheol the rest of their pre-party meeting.

(Internally, however, Jihoon is freaking out, because fuck he’s so cute what the fuck no I gotta play it cool.) Soonyoung shoots him a knowing smirk, which Jihoon pointedly ignores. Jisoo picks up on Soonyoung’s smirk, and shoots him a quizzical look.

Soonyoung glances between Jihoon and Seungcheol, who are now both ignoring each other, and waggles his eyebrows, the apparently universal sign for let’s matchmake them!

Jisoo snickers, nodding slightly before turning his attention to his list of duties he needs to delegate for the party to work. Mingyu, Wonwoo and Chan are the first to offer to cook for everyone (or buy food, seeing as Mingyu’s pretty much the only one who can actually cook). Jisoo offers games and general “things to do” to Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who immediately get to work arguing about which games could work, seeing as the party was going to largely be on the ice.

“Oh! Before I forget, I’ve also managed to track down and invite Jeonghan’s first figure skating teacher!” Jisoo exclaims, and Jihoon blinks.

“You mean the old security guard? Oh that’s nice, hyung will love it!” Seokmin exclaims, and Jisoo beams, feeling the excitement bubbling in his chest

I really hope he likes this surprise

Please like and reblog

If you’d like more of this AU, or your own lil thing, of if you just wanna yell at me, you can do so here ~

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phantasticworks · 6 years ago

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Don’t Ask Me How I’ve Been (Fake Happy) Chapter 2

This took forever to post bc of college and finals but I’m finished for the year so I finally had time to finish this! Thank you for reading!

read on ao3

Words: 10.3k

Description: Dan wakes up alone after his night with Phil.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, some abusive relationship content (not between dnp)

There’s light streaming in through his bedroom window, and Dan groans into the pillow. He had no idea what time it was, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. There was a throbbing in his lower back, and as he gains consciousness, he slowly remembers the events of the night before.

With a start, he sits up, looking at the spot beside him where Phil should have been.

Except, the bed was empty.

Dan frowns, puzzled, as he rolls out of bed and glances around the room. He’s alone in his bedroom. A pit of anxiety begins growing in his stomach, but he forces himself to calm down. Phil probably just woke up early and went to the bathroom or something. Dan stumbles over to the en-suite, but he can already tell that’s a dead end, as the door is wide open, the light off.

The nervous feeling in his stomach refuses to settle, but he tries not to freak out. It’s fine. Phil might’ve gone out to the lounge or something to wait for Dan to wake up.

The lounge is empty.

After a quick round through his flat, Dan realizes he’s actually alone. He wonders if maybe Phil had left a note, maybe he’d missed it in his panic. He slowly goes back to his bedroom and searches every surface. Nothing. The same result in the kitchen, and lounge. It’s as if… As if he was never here in the first place.

Dan is uncertain why that hurts as badly as it does, but before he can think too far into the why, the reality sets in, and tears start leaking from his eyes. There was no way he’d made up the whole thing… Right?

He manages to pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to remember he had a cell phone. Maybe Phil had texted him to explain where he’d gone!

It’s not until Dan’s sitting down on the sofa and unlocking his phone that he realizes two things. One, he’d definitely skipped the awards show last night, and all the missed calls, messages, and social media notifications that were waiting on his phone was proof of how much shit he’d be in the minute he got in contact with his manager. And secondly, he had never thought to get Phil’s phone number.

Shit.

He ignores all the messages to open the Uber app, swearing when he realizes the settings no longer allowed him to see Phil’s number. The only option he has is to contact him through the app, but he has no idea how desperate that will make him seem. Then he recalls that he never actually paid Phil, so without another thought, he clicks “Contact Driver” and begins typing.

Dan: Hi. You’re probably busy so I’m sorry for interrupting, but you left before I could pay you for the ride. Do you want to meet somewhere so I can pay you?

He contemplates the words for a moment before deciding to just go ahead and send it. It’s not going to make him feel any worse if he does, and maybe when Phil responds they can go out for coffee or something and actually talk. Besides the fact that he’d had a great night with him in bed, Phil seemed to share a lot of his interests, and he’d really like to get to know him better. Especially since things were over with Ben.

With the reminder, he realizes he’s still got a ton of unopened messages and many missed calls, most of them likely from his manager. Reluctantly, he goes to his missed calls, deciding to get the worst of it over with now. He clicks on Annette’s name, the number fourteen red beside her name. He cringes as he waits for her to pick up.

“Daniel James, I swear to god, if you ever-“ She doesn’t even say hello, just immediately starts yelling at him.

He can understand this, but at the same time, he’d already been having a shit morning, he didn’t want to deal with this too. “I know, Annette. I know. I’m sorry.” He heaves a sigh, leaning back on his sofa and rubbing a hand down his face. “You know why I didn’t want to be there,” he says softly.

She’s quiet for a moment before she finally sighs. She sounds almost exhausted as he feels. “I know, Dan.” And she does. Annette had known how in love Dan was with Ben from the moment he’d convinced her to sign Ben to the company. Dan had already been working with them for a little over two years, but when he’d met Ben, he just knew he had potential. He’d begged Annette and the rest of her team to sign him, and eventually, they caved, assuming it would be for the best.

Oh, how the tables turn.

“How’s he handling the win?” Dan asks, bitterness lacing his tone. “I’m sure he’s letting it go to his head, huh?”

There’s a pause, and Dan feels a little uneasy at her silence. Then, “Dan, he didn’t win.”

“Oh,” Dan says slowly. He hates himself for it, really, he does, but he can feel himself feeling sorry for Ben. He’d wanted this so badly. “So, who did?”

Now, Annette just sounds amused. “Have you checked literally any of your notifications?” She asks, rather than answer his question.

Dan’s confused. “Um, no. I haven’t been up long, and I figured I’d get my ass chewed out if I didn’t call you the minute I woke up.”

Annette laughs at this, and Dan’s relieved to hear the sound. So, he wouldn’t be in nearly as much trouble as he thought, especially if Annette is laughing. “Good call.”

“So… Who won?” He repeats his question, the curiosity eating at him.

“You did, love,” Annette says gently.

Dan feels as if all the breath in his lungs has been knocked out. “I… What?”

There’s another laugh. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, dear. The film was a huge success, and you did wonderfully in it.”

He’s having a difficult time wrapping his head around the idea that he’s just won an award, an actual, proper award, for his acting. Then, guilt swarms in as he remembers he hadn’t been there to accept it. There’s a tightness in his throat as he wonders who accepted it on his behalf. “Oh… Did… um, who-“

Annette seems to know where his mind is, because she cuts him off. “I did. I didn’t think you’d want Ben to do it, and it wouldn’t have looked good for his current… narrative.” The word comes out strained, and Dan is pretty sure he knows why. Their manager wasn’t thrilled that Ben decided he wanted to be portrayed in a specific heteronormative way, and Dan thought that the reason probably had a lot to do with himself. Annette was somewhat of a mum to him, and she had told him many times that Ben was a right twat. Unfortunately, she’d been right.

“Oh. Thank you,” Dan says sincerely. He really would have the worst time if Annette wasn’t his manager. “I’m sorry I skipped it.”

“Not a problem, Daniel. We said you were sick. You weren’t out doing anything stupid, right? If it leaks that you were out and not actually sick, we’ll have a hell of a time explaining it.”

Dan shakes his head before he remembers she can’t see him. He sits up and moves to take the mugs, still full of tea from last night, to the sink, a thought striking him as he goes to stand. “Oh. I didn’t exactly go out and do anything stupid, but…” He trails off, uncertain how to tell her. He knew technically it wasn’t her business, but he knew that she’d want to know just in case the story of him sleeping with an Uber driver ended up in the press. Not that Phil would do that. But still, better safe than sorry.

“What did you do?” Annette says with a wary sigh.

“Um, well… I had a hookup-“

“Oh Jesus, Dan. Did they know who you were?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Dan, you’ve really got to be careful about that kind of thing. What if he’d hurt you?” Annette asks, voice full of concern.

Dan sets the mugs in the sink, an uneasy feeling in his chest from her words. “Phil was harmless, he wouldn’t have done that.”

Annette is quiet for a long time, and Dan starts to wonder if maybe the connection had failed. Eventually, she speaks. “Is he still there?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to be quiet. “No… He was gone when I woke up. But, he probably had other clients, it’s not like he-“

“Jesus Christ, Dan! You hired a hooker?” Annette is near screaming, and Dan’s face floods with heat.

“No!” He shouts, embarrassed that he’d made it sound that way. “He was the Uber driver, not- fuck, Annette. Obviously, I didn’t hire a hooker.”

“Okay,” Annette breathes, sounding relieved. “That’s definitely more manageable. Do you have his phone number?”

Dan shifts awkwardly. “No,” he admits.

Annette sighs, but doesn’t sound surprised. “Well, that makes things a little more complicated.”

“Why do you need it?” Dan asks, confused.

“In case he decides to go to the press, Dan. We need to be able to get in contact with him.”

Something swirls in his stomach, and Dan knows he’s not going to be able to keep his mouth shut this time. “Phil isn’t going to go tattle that he slept with me. I seriously doubt he’d even consider doing that.”

“But how do you know that?” She asks, gentle.

Dan huffs. He doesn’t want to admit how infatuated he was with Phil, not yet. And especially not to Annette, of all people. “I just don’t see why he would. Would that even be a story worth selling? I’m already out. There’s no secrets here. If anything, it would make Ben look less like a liar.”

Annette seems to consider this. “I suppose,” she says slowly. “But I’d still rather you try and get his information, so we have it, just in case.”

“I already messaged him,” he reassures her, moving over to his kettle to fill it up with water. He desperately needed a cup of coffee.

“Good. Well, congratulations on your win, Dan. You deserve it. Take it easy, okay? Oh, and call your mum. She’s already called me twice, she wants to congratulate you.”

Dan groans, but agrees. “Thanks, Ann.”

“Mhm,” is her response.

The phone call ends with a beep, and Dan sighs loudly. He can’t help but go check his Uber app, hoping to see a response from Phil. Nothing.

With an unsettled feeling in his chest and a heavy sigh, Dan goes about checking the rest of his notifications as the water in his kettle heats up, wondering about a man with black hair and blue eyes the whole time.

Three weeks.

Three weeks pass, and Dan doesn’t hear a single peep from Phil.

Twenty-four hours after his Uber ride had scheduled to end, he’s no longer given the option of contacting the driver, so his contact with him is thoroughly severed.

Dan can’t help but be mad, at himself for not getting Phil’s phone number, but also at Phil, because who the fuck has that kind of night with someone and then just fucks off to Neverland? Phil, apparently.

Over those three weeks, Dan has a lot of time to overthink everything that happened that night. He wonders what he did that made Phil decide to leave with no note or anything left behind, and eventually, he comes to the conclusion that it was his oversharing. Who does that? Who ruins a perfectly nice hookup with a perfectly nice man with all of that ridiculous emotional baggage? Dan, apparently.

Despite the fact that Dan’s thoughts feel consumed with worries about that night and where he went wrong, he still has a life to live outside of that. That life includes a celebratory party at his agency in honor of his first big award win, a party that, thankfully, Ben isn’t invited to. Dan had all but begged Annette to make sure he didn’t come, but in the end, she hadn’t had to make a single call. Ben informed the team that he and Sophia would be going on holiday to Edinburgh only a couple days after the awards show, the purpose of the trip apparently so he could meet her parents.

Dan tries not to let that hurt too much, but if he gets wine drunk and breaks the vinyl records Ben left at his flat after hearing the news, well, that’s his business.

He does slowly start to come to terms with the ending of that chapter in his life, even if some of his coping mechanisms aren’t exactly ideal. The only good thing about it all is the timing, because he’s not set to start filming his part in a new film for another month, so until then, he’s got all the downtime he needs to have his breakdown.

A breakdown that includes some nights of copious amount of alcohol, or sometimes just copious amounts of food. The breakdown may also include a few nights of wearing Ben’s old clothes and sobbing into the fabric, but when the worst of it is over, Dan washes the clothes and folds them neatly, placing them in a cardboard box to start the process of packing up Ben’s things.

The process is more taxing than he’d originally anticipated, though, so eventually he finds himself putting it off for another time. It had only been a week and a half at that point, and something about stuffing Ben’s belongings into a box made him almost sick. It almost seemed like he’d died, and while the rational part of Dan’s brain knew this wasn’t true, the panicked, nervous part just screamed at him to leave it for another day.

Along with the packing, Dan had also taken to spending more time at the agency, mainly just to stay away from his too-empty apartment and, admittedly, to distract him from the thoughts of Phil that still swarm in his brain. Logically, he was aware that it was essentially a fluke; he’d barely been in the other man’s company for four hours, there was virtually no reason for Dan to feel as attached to him as he did. And yet, there was just something about Phil that Dan felt inexplicably drawn to.

Whatever the reason was, Dan had essentially given up any hope of ever seeing the man again by the time three weeks had passed since that night.

On the three-week mark, he found himself out of his usual routine when he’s invited to a house party. Apparently, it was just going to be a few people from his agency and some other people in the business, no one of any real importance from what he could gather. Just an ensemble of up-and-coming artists who for some reason thought getting drunk and making embarrassing memories together would strengthen their work relationships. Or something like that, at least.

Dan had agreed to go only on the principle that he hadn’t been spending much time hanging out with any of his friends outside of work lately, and sometimes he did miss them. Well, some of them, at least. There was a couple, or namely just one, coworkers that he’d rather not see, but with the hope that a house party would seem far too childish to Ben, Dan agrees to go.

When he shows up at Christopher’s house, the party is already in full swing. It’s not as bad as college house parties; there weren’t gaggles of drunk people loitering around on the lawn, but Dan wasn’t so sure he could say the same for the inside. With a heaved sigh, he plasters on a fake smile and makes his way to the door.

He doesn’t bother knocking, Christopher never knocked when he went anywhere, and Dan could hear how loud the music was from here; no one would even notice if he knocked. When he steps inside, he’s almost immediately called over by the host of the party himself.

“Dan! Dan the man! Come on, mate, we’re doing shots!” Christopher’s obnoxious voice calls over to him from his spot in the lounge, a group of familiar faces surrounding him.

Dan tries not to grimace, but it’s hard. He doesn’t like getting drunk with a group nearly as much as he did back in his teenage years, as he’s got this awful tendency to spill his guts about every secret in his life. That tendency had gotten him into a lot of trouble with Ben over the years, so eventually he’d stopped drinking so much at parties.

“Good to see you, mate,” Dan says amicably when he reaches the group, patting Christopher on the back. And it was, Christopher was one of the only actors that were signed on at the agency that he actually liked. Some of them weren’t horrible, exactly, but Dan did have standards when it came to his friends.

“Here you go,” says a girl called April as she hands him a shot glass.

“Thanks,” Dan nods to her. He glances around the room to survey the attendees for anyone else that he was friends with, mainly so he’d have an excuse to escape Christopher before his drinking games began. “Nice party, mate, I-“ He begins, eyes still flitting around the room. He cuts himself off abruptly when he sees blonde hair and a leather jacket.

No. Please, no.

But yes, it’s unmistakably Ben, and standing next to him is a petite girl with platinum blonde hair, much lighter than Ben’s could ever hope to be without serious work. Sophia.

Dan can’t help but study Ben, checking to see any visible signs of discomfort or grief. He doesn’t find any, but as he watches him talking and laughing with the few people around him, Ben’s eyes suddenly flick up, meeting his own briefly. His face flaming, Dan quickly turns back to the group he’s with, downing his shot at once. Okay, so maybe he’d have a couple drinks tonight.

“You alright, Dan?” Comes a quiet voice to his left. Dan glances over and finds Erika, Annette’s assistant and one of his close friends. She’s holding a water bottle, and Dan knows from previous party experience that it’s just that- water. She doesn’t drink, and Dan thinks that at this moment he’d never been so grateful to see another human being.

“Erika! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Dan says brightly, avoiding her question as he leans down to hug her.

The brunette smiles up at him but bites her lip and flicks her eyes over somewhere behind Dan, and he knows that she’s seen Ben. It wasn’t like everyone at the agency knew that Dan and Ben had been a thing and weren’t anymore, but it certainly hadn’t left the attention of his PR agent and some of her staff. If he wasn’t so anxious after seeing Ben, he’d probably be embarrassed about how the sight of Ben made him react.

“How have you been, love?” Erika asks in a soft voice, only barely loud enough for Dan to hear her.

He glances over at the group, and realizing they aren’t paying any attention to them, he nods for her to follow him to a corner to talk quietly. “I’ve been better,” he says with a bitter laugh.

She levels him with a pitying smile, and he feels a tightening in his throat, which he hates. “I heard that Ben moved out,” she says quietly.

Dan clenches his fists, trying to remind himself that Erika didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not like she knew all the details; he hadn’t even told Annette the full story. The first day back at the agency after the awards ceremony, she’d asked what exactly happened, and he’d given her the shortest answer possible, just explaining that he would be moving Ben’s things out soon. He’d left it at that.

“We weren’t really living together in the first place,” Dan mutters under his breath, looking down at his shoes and half-wishing he had gotten a drink from someone before this conversation.

Erika sends him a disbelieving look. “Sure, but his things were living at your flat, right?” The thing about Erika was that while she was a sweetheart, she was not afraid to call him out on his shit. It looked like this would be one of those times.

“Well, they aren’t going to be for long. I’ve already started packing it up.” He wasn’t going to pretend that she was wrong; Erika knew more about his and Ben’s situation than even Annette did.

It’s quiet for a few moments before Erika speaks. “I’m sorry, love,” she says gently. “I can’t even imagine… You know you can come stay with me anytime you want, right? If you just need to a change of view or some company.”

He knows her offer is sincere, but he hated to be a burden. “Thanks, Erika. I’ll let you know if I need a shoulder to cry on, but for now I think I’m handling it okay.” He offers her a smile to soften the blow of his rejection.

If it bothers her that he didn’t accept the invitation, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she points to a group of people by the fireplace. “Did you hear that James and Phoebe are sleeping together?” She asks in a conspiratorial voice.

Dan laughs at this, more than glad that the topic of their conversation has moved to something that isn’t his own life. “I hadn’t, but I can believe it. James is just making his way ‘round, huh?”

Erika’s eyes sparkle, and Dan can tell she’s glad that her distraction is a success. “I think the only people he hasn’t slept with are the guys at the agency and me, of course,” she giggles.

“Imagine that!” He replies, shaking his head with a fond smile. “He wouldn’t sleep with a lesbian?”

“Yeah, I think-“ she starts, turning to gesture to the fireplace again.

She’s interrupted by a voice Dan definitely didn’t want to hear. “Gossiping, are we, ladies?” Ben sneers.

Dan huffs, turning to face him. His breath gets caught when he sees him up-close for the first time in three weeks. He looks good, obviously, with his stupid blonde hair and his stupid leather jacket. He’s got a smirk on his face when Dan looks at him, and Dan can only imagine how much he’s enjoying the way Dan is obviously still very much attracted to him.

“Not about you, sadly. Do something interesting with your life and you might just make an appearance in our little chats,” Erika says in a sickly-sweet voice.

Her sarcastic comment breaks Dan out of his stupor, and he tries to hide his smile. Ben looks at her with distaste, much the way that he looked at everyone else he thought was beneath him. “Right, because I want to be the center of attention in your little gay fantasies.”

Dan scoffs at that. “As if, mate. You would want to be the center of attention in a room of serial killers, even if they were trying to kill you.”

Ben narrows his eyes at him. “At least I’m not scared of the attention I get,” he snaps.

Shrugging, Dan shifts to lean against the wall, trying to put some space between them. “Not scared, just don’t get off to it like you do.” Dan smirks as he says this, seeing the perfect opening for a remark he’ll probably regret. “And I would know about getting you off, huh, Ben?”

The blonde clenches his fist at his side, and Dan instinctively flinches away. He doesn’t even realize he’s done it until he hears Erika gasp softly beside him.

“You need to go. Right now.” She’s glaring at Ben, a look of pure hatred on her face. Dan had never seen her look so livid, but right now she looked absolutely disgusted.

Ben shifts his glare onto her, laughing loudly and crossing his arms. Dan’s eyes flit around the room, and he shifts awkwardly when he realizes that they’ve got quite a few eyes on them at the moment. “Erika…” he says lowly, trying to keep her voice down.

“So, Danny needs a bodyguard now? Poor bastard can’t defend himself, so he needs you to do it for him?” Although Dan knows he’s speaking to Erika, he knows the words are meant to hurt him.

“No-“ Erika starts, stepping closer to him and poking his chest harshly.

“Erika, stop, just-“

“Don’t act like you don’t get off to someone taking care of you, Daniel. We both know you’re just a little bitch who can’t take care of himself,” Ben taunts, a smirk on his lips.

Dan’s teeth grind together, and he gently tugs on Erika’s arm to pull her away from him. He appreciated the thought, but he knew Ben, and unfortunately, he knew that he was absolutely the kind of person to swing a punch, even if the person in front of him was a woman. “That’s enough, Ben. Wouldn’t want everyone in here to figure out all your little secrets, would we?” Dan raises a brow in challenge, knowing damn well that Ben doesn’t want anyone to know about their past.

Ben clenches his jaw, but steps back. He glances around the room, and it seems like everyone who was watching them suddenly realizes how rude that is, as almost every pair of eyes flit away. “We both know you wouldn’t say shit, faggot.” Ben spits the word out, and Dan can feel his blood boiling.

“You seem to forget that I’m not the one stuck in a fucking closet. I’d watch my fucking mouth, if I were you,” Dan replies snidely, his anger giving him the confidence to say something so bold to Ben.

With his eyes narrowed, Ben leans in closer, and it takes everything in Dan to not flinch away. “You can call it what you want, but we both know that at the end of the day, you’re just another hole to fuck,” he whispers, just loud enough so Dan can hear over the music and chatter.

Dan doesn’t even think before he does it. One moment he’s feeling the pain and anger of hearing the man he once loved say that to him, and the next he’s shoving him, hard.

Ben loses his balance and falls to the floor, effectively quieting the room. He looks almost as shocked as Dan feels, looking up at him with an expression Dan has never seen on his face. Dan can feel his hands shaking and he knows he’s about to have a breakdown if he doesn’t leave.

Before he can even consider it, he looks down at Ben, a frown on his face. “I feel sorry for you, Ben. I really, really do.” He glances around the room until he catches sight of Sophia, who looks shocked at the scene in front of her. “I just hope she’s not as stupid as I was.”

Sophia stares at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at his words. He knows it’s not his concern, but he hopes that for her sake, she breaks up with Ben. She really was a sweet girl, she didn’t deserve the kind of shit life she’d have if she stayed with him.

Without a second glance at the man on the floor, Dan murmurs a quick goodbye to Erika before heading to the front door. Christopher yells out to him, probably to try and get some sort of explanation, but Dan waves him off, pulling his phone out as he steps outside. He’d taken an Uber here, but he hadn’t asked the driver to hang around, considering he thought he’d be there for several hours, instead of less than one.

He quickly goes through the app and orders a car, walking out to sit on the side of the road until it arrived. A message popped up saying there was a driver less than ten minutes away, and he was more than relieved to see that he wouldn’t be stuck out here long. He’d hate for anyone to come out here to check on him, or try and ask him what had happened, which was honestly the more likely outcome.

Barely ten minutes later, a car is pulling up close to the house. Dan stands and tucks his phone into his pocket, slowly making his way over to the car. Something about the color is familiar to him, but it doesn’t full set in until he’s almost to the car. He stops dead in his tracks, staring in silence as the driver’s side window rolls down, revealing a face that’s been keeping him up at night.

“Um… Hi,” Phil says softly, scratching the back of his head in an awkward fashion.

Dan doesn’t speak. It’s almost as if he’s seeing a ghost, but he can tell that Phil is definitely there, and he is very much about to be alone in a car with him.

“Uh, you can… Um, you can sit in the passenger if you want,” Phil stutters out awkwardly, gesturing to the seat beside him.

Silently, Dan moves around to the passenger side of the car, his mind stuck on the fact that after three weeks, he’s actually seeing Phil again. He puts his seatbelt on slowly, staring at his hands as he does so and trying hard not to look over at the driver. As soon as he’s buckled up, however, he’s got nothing else to distract himself with.

“Do you need my address?” He asks flatly, staring straight out the windshield instead of looking at Phil.

He can feel the other man’s gaze on him, but he refuses to meet it. After a quiet sigh, Phil speaks. “No, I remember how to get there.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent in the car for a few moments, and Dan doesn’t know if that’s worse than talking about the obvious elephant in the room. He doesn’t know if Phil even wants to talk about it, but he knows that he’s biting his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself.

Eventually, Phil seems unable to handle the silence. “How have you been?” He asks softly.

Dan can’t help it. He glances over at him, an incredulous look on his face. “I’m sorry?” He asks, as if he hadn’t heard him right.

Phil clears his throat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “How have you been? It’s been… about three weeks, right?”

With a bitter laugh, Dan shifts to lean his head back. “Yeah. Three weeks. I’ve been doing just lovely, thanks for asking.”

There’s a beat of silence before Phil says, “I don’t think you’re being honest.”

Dan whips his head to the side to stare at Phil. “Well spotted,” he snaps.

Phil lets out a deep breath, and Dan can tell he’s becoming agitated. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

This time, Dan really doesn’t think he’s heard him right. “What?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“I’m sorry. For… well, for not answering your message, for one. And…” He glances over at Dan then, swallowing hard, and Dan’s eyes flit down to take in the movement. “And for leaving without telling you.”

Dan can only stare at him in silence for what feels like a long time. He’d wanted that apology, but now that he’s got it, he doesn’t feel any better. If anything, it only manages to make him feel worse. “Right,” Dan says, clearing his throat. He glances out the window, relieved to see that they’re already almost to his flat. Luckily it was a short drive this time, because although he’d spent the majority of the past three weeks thinking about Phil, he’s finding that he really doesn’t want to be around him right now.

“I get why you’re upset with me, Dan, really, I do, but please say something.” Phil’s voice is almost begging, and Dan knows it won’t take long for him to cave.

Dan laughs once, without humor. “I don’t have anything to say, Phil. We fucked, and you disappeared right after. There’s really not much to comment on there, if you ask me.” He shrugs, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can.

“Dan…” Phil says softly, clearly upset.

They’ve pulled up to his building, and Dan knows he’s got to ask. It’s eating away at him, and he knows he’s got to have an answer. “Can you just tell me why?” He asks, finally turning to properly face Phil once he’s brought the car to a stop. “Was it… Was it not good for you? Or was it the fact that I told you all that shit about Ben? Because you literally told me I could talk to you about it, and I…” He trails off, his throat slowly closing up. He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to stop the tears. “I really wanted to be friends. Like I didn’t want to just fuck you, you know.”

“It’s not that! It wasn’t any of that, Dan, I swear. I just… I can’t…” Phil’s voice cracks, and Dan’s eyes flutter open to find him staring at him helplessly, his eyes watery. Some sick, hurt part of Dan is glad to see that Phil is upset. It made him feel slightly better about his own pain, in a weird way.

“Is there… is it someone else?” Dan whispers, almost not wanting an answer. He’d be sick, actually sick, if Phil told him he’d cheated on someone else with him that night.

“What?” Phil sounds shocked. “No, Dan. God, no. I don’t do that.” He’s shaking his head adamantly, and Dan believes him. The relief he feels at the reassurance is immeasurable.

“Then?” He questions, raising his eyebrows. “What the fuck?”

Phil takes in a deep breath, leaning back in his seat and letting his gaze flit away from Dan and onto the building they’re parked in front of. Dan doesn’t think he’s going to answer at first, but after a few moments, he begins speaking quietly. “I’m not good enough for you,” he breathes. “I’m not an actor or anyone special, okay? I wish I was, but I’m not. I’m just me. I work at a video store and drive for Uber to make ends meet, and I just-“

Dan cuts him off with a harsh laugh, pulling out his wallet and counting out enough money for this ride and the last one, since he’d never gotten to pay him. “That’s ridiculous, you know.” He can’t help the way his voice cracks. “Pulling the whole “it’s not you, it’s me,” thing. It’s good, but I really expected something a little more impressive.” He places the cash on the console between them before stepping out of the car.

“Dan, please-“ Phil starts, looking stricken.

“You know, I really thought that we just clicked, you know? Like the whole time we were together that night, I felt like we had a lot in common, and it was such a relief to be around someone who wasn’t a total dick, but I guess I’ve never been great at character judgement.” Dan shakes his head, a grimace on his face. He slams the car door shut, ignoring how badly he wants to turn around and apologize for what he’d just said.

“That’s not fair,” Phil calls to him. Dan turns around to find Phil stepping out of the car.

“No, what’s not fair is you acting like you gave a damn about me and then leaving without saying shit. Do you know how that feels? Like, honestly?” He swallows hard. He hadn’t given a name to what he’d felt since seeing Phil again, but he felt like he finally had some clarity. He felt used. As if Phil had only wanted to sleep with him because he’s “famous,” not because he actually liked him.

“I’m sorry, Dan. Please, I didn’t-“ he steps closer, holding his hand out as if he wants to touch Dan.

On instinct, Dan flinches away. The look of hurt on Phil’s face then almost breaks his heart, but he refuses to act as if it did. “It felt like being used, Phil. That’s how it felt.”

Phil’s shoulders sag then, as if he’s just deflated. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Dan. I just… I’m not like you. I don’t have money, or a ton of friends, or some amazing career. And, you… You deserve whatever you want, Dan.”

Dan shakes his head slowly. “What I wanted was you,” he mutters before turning to go inside his flat.

“Dan, please, I just-“

Without so much as a glance back, Dan walks into his building, shutting the door behind him with a firm click.

A heavy cardboard box sits at the end of Dan’s sofa, haphazardly closed with some scotch tape. He hadn’t bothered labeling it; when he dropped them off at Annette’s office, he’d make sure she called Ben in to come retrieve them. Dan had no desire to see the man himself, and he knew his manager would take care of it for him. With a heavy sigh, Dan allows his gaze to sweep over the lounge, making sure for the last time that he’d collected all of Ben’s belongings.

After finding nothing that didn’t belong to him, Dan moves to the kitchen. He was almost certain that he had already gotten everything of Ben’s from the cupboards, but he planned on double checking just to make sure. He opens the cupboard where he kept the coffee mugs, and his gaze catches on one in particular. He pulls the stupid Mario Kart mug out and without a second glance, tosses it straight in the bin. It was a shitty mug anyway, he reasons with himself as he turns back to the cupboard.

With nothing else left in the kitchen to remove, Dan makes his way to his bedroom. He’d left the final box in there, and after a quick check he would be done with packing everything up. He specifically avoids looking at the items already filling the box, instead turning to riffle through his dresser. He’d left one empty for Ben, and although he’d already emptied it out, he knew that Ben had a tendency to stuff his clothes and things in the other drawers, too. After finding nothing but an old Napoleon Dynamite t-shirt, he slams the drawers shut.

It was weirdly therapeutic, closing the box full of Ben’s things and closing it with crappy tape. It felt like the ending of a chapter, and even though it sort of felt like everything else in his life had gone to shit, Dan feels slightly better knowing that at least this part was over.

He drops the last box onto the top of the other one in his lounge, dropping his hands to his waist as he surveys his day’s work. “Well. That’s that, I suppose,” he says aloud. He’s well aware of how weird it makes him look to just talk to himself in an otherwise empty flat, but he’d declined Erika’s offer to help him pack. Maybe he slightly regretted that now, but he felt that he needed to be alone to do this. Now that he was done, however, we was feeling drained and exhausted and in desperate need of a shower and some human interaction.

Dan’s just picked up his phone and started typing out a message to Erika when he hears a knock at his door. He wants to groan, because he knew of only two people who knew the code to get into his building, and right now he wasn’t in the mood to talk to Annette or, god forbid, Ben. With a groan that’s more overdramatic than the situation warrants, he makes his way to the door and flings it open without a second thought.

“Hi, I- oh.” His standard welcome is cut short when he realizes the person on the other side of his door is neither party he expected.

Phil gives him a shy smile. “Hey, um, someone was leaving when I came in, and they held the door for me. I’m not sure if they just assumed I lived here, or they just didn’t care, but I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a serial murderer.”

It takes Dan several moments to find his voice. After their argument the other night, he hadn’t expected to see Phil ever again, and despite the fact that it annoyed him deeply, he’d managed to push it to the back of his mind, considering it wasn’t like he really had a lot to tie himself to the man. And yet, here he is, rambling at his door.

“Why are you here?” Is the first thing that falls from Dan’s mouth. He almost winces at himself with how rude it sounds, but then he remembers why they left things the way they did, and decides he’s earned the right to be rude.

Phil’s face drops into an expression of guilt. “I know you probably want me to leave, but I needed to come by and apologize. I know I made you upset the other day, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, and for leaving without telling you, and for not answering your messages. I was a twat, and I know that.” His words come out in a rush, and Dan is left staring at him in mute surprise.

It’s then that he notices that Phil isn’t empty-handed; in his right hand, his fingers grip a small gift bag, messily stuffed with tissue paper. “What’s in the bag?” He asks rather than addressing Phil’s apology. It was almost exactly what Dan wanted to hear, but Phil didn’t have to know that right now, and Dan didn’t have to forgive him so soon.

At Dan’s words, Phil seems to remember he’s holding something, and he quickly holds it out. “Oh. Um, here. It’s for you.”

Dan frowns, his brows knitting together uncertainly. “Is it, like, a bomb or something?” He asks, only partially joking. He’d never been actually seriously threatened before, but he still barely knew Phil, he wasn’t going to just blindly assume that he wouldn’t try it.

Phil’s lips curve up into a small smile, and he shakes his head. “No, it’s not. It’s… well, just look and see.”

With a strong sense of uncertainty and more curious than he’d like to admit, Dan tugs the tissue paper out of the bag. Phil holds a hand out for it, and Dan is careful not to allow their hands to touch as he hands it over. He’s left staring into the bag, his eyebrows knitting together yet again as he tugs the object out. “A coffee mug?” He asks flatly. He wasn’t sure what exactly to expect, but a plain black coffee mug wasn’t exactly it.

Phil smiles, clearly excited. “It changes when you pour hot water in it. Like,” he reaches a hand out for it then, and unthinkingly, Dan flinches away. Phil’s smile drops, and he studies Dan with an almost sad look in his eyes. “May I?” He asks, softly. Dan slowly nods, holding the cup out to him. Phil takes it from him gently, turning it over to show Dan one side of it. “The cup will turn white, and this part right here will show the heart from Undertale,” he explains, glancing up at Dan with a sheepish smile. “I thought, um… I figured it would match your other one.”

Dan settles into a stunned silence at the thoughtful gift, staring down at the ceramic as he tries to process it. Phil didn’t have to apologize to him, obviously, but he certainly didn’t have to do so with a gift. Dan wasn’t sure anyone, especially Ben, had ever done something like that for him, so now he wasn’t so sure that he could fathom Phil’s reasoning for it. “Um, thank you,” he says softly, taking the mug back when Phil holds it out to him.

Nodding, Phil steps back, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck in what is probably a nervous habit. “You’re welcome. Um… I guess I’ll go, I just wanted to bring that by, and… I just wanted to say I was sorry, for messing everything up. I really didn’t intend for things to go the way they did.”

Still trying to gather his thoughts, Dan watches as Phil turns around, tucking his hands into his pockets as he moves to disappear from Dan’s life. Without much thought to the consequences of doing so, Dan steps out and calls his name.

Phil turns around with an eyebrow raised, looking more surprised than Dan feels he has the right to. “Yeah?”

Dan chews his lip for a moment, glancing back down at the mug in his hands. With a sigh, he closes his eyes and speaks. “Are you busy right now?”

There’s a beat of silence, and Dan slowly opens his eyes to take a peek at Phil’s reaction. He’s expecting more silence or even an awkward excuse, but Phil has a soft smile on his face. “I’m not, no.”

Nodding, as if he’d expected this, Dan runs his hand through his curls before gesturing to his flat. “Would you like to come play Mario Kart with me?”

Phil’s smile shifts into something even softer, if it’s possible, and Dan swallows hard. He’s inviting him in as a friend this time, nothing more. He can do that, and they can be friends. He’s afraid if he doesn’t convince himself of this, he’ll mess things up. “I’d love to,” Phil responds easily.

Dan steps back and holds the door for him, closing it with a gentle push once Phil is making his way to the lounge. “You can take your coat off and put it wherever,” he says off-handedly as he goes to set the mug in the kitchen.

When he makes his way back to the lounge, Phil’s left his coat on the back of the armchair Dan rarely used, and the man himself is stood staring at the boxes at the end of Dan’s sofa, an almost-grimace on his face. Before Dan has the chance to say anything, Phil turns to look at him, a strange look on his face. “Are you moving?” He asks. If Dan didn’t know better, he’d think that Phil actually sounded upset about it.

Dan smiles at this but shakes his head. “No, I’m just clearing out some junk I don’t need anymore.” He moves to the television and begins setting up the game, glancing over at Phil as he does so. “You can sit, you know. I’m not going to make you stand the entire time you’re here.”

Phil smiles briefly at this, but he’s got a panicked look on his face, like he really wants to say something else. Dan quirks an eyebrow at him, and apparently that’s all the permission he needed, because then he’s speaking quickly, barely giving Dan a chance to catch his words. “Not that I don’t want to spend time with you, because obviously I do, but I really think we should talk about what happened. You’ve barely said anything to me since I got here, and I want to know what you’re thinking. Please, just say something so I know you don’t hate me.”

Seemingly done with his rant, Phil drops to sit on the sofa, looking up at Dan with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

Dan blinks. He certainly wasn’t expecting all that, but he supposed it was good that Phil brought it up, so he didn’t have to. Grabbing his switch from the bookcase where he kept it, he carefully took each end off so that he and Phil could play in multi-player mode, all the while carefully gathering his thoughts for the conversation they were about to have.

“I was upset after you dropped me off the other night,” he admits quietly, handing Phil a controller as he sits beside him on the sofa. “I was confused, mostly, I think, but I was definitely upset.” He sighs then, turning to share a small smile with Phil. “But, like all things, I had to get over it, right?”

Phil looks upset, with himself or Dan is unclear. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Dan’s face as his fingers trail over the tiny controller in his hand. “No, you had a right to be upset, Dan. And… I hate to sound cliché, god, but you’re allowed to hold onto that, you know? Your anger wasn’t misplaced, and you’re allowed to hold onto that if you aren’t ready to get over it. I…” he trails off then, finally dropping his eyes to his lap. “I know that I messed up by treating you the way I did, but I swear I didn’t do it with the intentions of hurting you.”

Dan takes a moment to process this, swallowing a few times to try and get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth. It doesn’t work. Eventually, he finds a response. “I don’t want to be that person that holds onto things like that. You fucked up, but you know you did, and you’ve already apologized. I’m not… I’d like a fresh start, I guess.” He rolls his eyes as he says this, sending Phil a bemused smile. “Look at me, being the real cliché here.”

A small smile quirks at Phil’s lips, finally. “I think a fresh start would be good.” There’s a tremor of nervousness in his voice, as if he’s afraid Dan will suddenly want to change his mind.

“Yeah?” Dan asks, chewing his lips as he watches Phil push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Phil nods, taking the same hand through his hair, messing his quiff up. It looks good that way, though, so Dan doesn’t say a word. “I’d really like the chance to show you that I’m not a total dick, even though I definitely acted like it before.”

Dan grins at this, nudging Phil gently with his elbow as he finally turns to the TV. He felt the serious part of their conversation was over, and he was ready for some friendly competition. “I don’t mind dicks, believe it or not,” he teases lewdly, sending a smirk to the man beside him.

His lips pursed as if he’s holding a laugh in, Phil levels him with an unimpressed look. “At least take me to dinner before trying to get in my pants, Howell.”

The joke is funny, and Dan snorts, but something about the usage of his surname reminds him of something important. “I don’t know anything about you,” he says suddenly, completely disregarding what Phil’s just said.

Phil glances away from the screen, where Dan had been going through the motions of setting up the game, frowning at Dan. “Don’t you?” He asks, sounding confused.

Dan shakes his head adamantly. “I don’t even know your last name,” he informs Phil, his eyes scanning over the screen to pick a course. “What course is your favorite?”

“I’m good at the Electrodrome.” There’s a beat of silence then, before he speaks quietly. “Lester.”

Glancing over at him with his eyebrows drawn, Dan asks, “Pardon?”

Phil gestures to him with the hand not holding his little controller. “My last name. It’s Lester.”

A little surprised that’d he’d actually told him, Dan pauses. “Oh.” Then, “Thank you for telling me.”

Shrugging, Phil moves to lean back on the sofa. “My middle name is Michael. If you were wondering.” He’s got a small smile on his face, and Dan wonders if this is turning into twenty questions.

With a little smile, Dan selects the Electrodrome course on the game before speaking again. “Mine’s James.” He shifts so that he’s sitting with his legs criss-crossed, tugging a decorative pillow onto his lap for arm support. “I suppose you could just google anything you wanted to know about me,” he muses, almost as an afterthought.

“I couldn’t google what you look like when you’ve just woken up.” Phil’s voice is soft, and although the race has already started, Dan can’t help but look over at him, swallowing hard when he sees the hopeful, almost pleading look on Phil’s face.

Dan’s eyes shift back to the screen to focus on not losing, but his mind is swirling with what Phil’s just said. The implication was obvious, but he wasn’t positive how exactly he should interpret it. He goes with the obvious way. “I guess that’s something you’d have to find out for yourself,” he breathes, trying not to show how nervously excited the prospect of Phil spending the night, like actually spending the night, makes him.

“Could I? Find out for myself, that is?” Phil murmurs. Dan feels the sofa shift and he feels rather than sees the way that Phil has turned to be almost facing Dan, his knee pressing against Dan’s thigh gently.

Dan swallows, and nods, barely glancing over at the man beside him. Bright blue eyes meet his gaze, and he almost says fuck the game right then and there. “I’d like that.”

Phil smiles then, an adorable sight that has Dan’s character on screen running into a wall with how distracted he is. Shaking himself slightly, Dan shifts his gaze back to the screen. Phil chuckles softly, and Dan almost flushes at the fact that Phil knows how he’s affected him.

“Are you hungry?” Dan asks sometime later, once they’ve started a new race. He glances over at Phil and finds him concentrating on the screen intently. His gaze meets Dan’s when he realizes that the brunette’s stare is on him. “If you’re staying anyway, we can order pizza, or something. If you want?” Dan’s a little uncertain if Phil was serious about the earlier implication, but now he’s basically asked him for an answer.

“Pizza sounds great,” Phil smiles at him.

Dan nods, and they finish the round they’re on with banter and some light shoves. Dan wins, but Phil promises to redeem himself later. When they’re done, Dan tosses the remote onto the coffee table before standing to go search for his laptop. “Domino’s?” He asks.

Phil nods, excitement in his eyes. “The superior pizza place, honestly,” he comments as Dan moves over to his armchair where his MacBook is laying.

“Right? It’s the only food worth consuming.” He drops back onto the sofa and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, opening the laptop and hoping that he’d closed any weird tabs he’d had open. Luckily there’s only a couple Wikipedia articles and a tab with a funny YouTube video pulled up. He quickly opens a new tab and finds Domino’s website, going to the build a pizza option. “What do you like on your pizza?”

Phil is looking at the options, and it’s not until Dan glances over that he realizes how close they are on the sofa. He wants to close the distance and press his lips to Phil’s, but he holds himself back. “I like their sizzler, but I’m really not picky. Just don’t like, add a bunch of extra cheese, and I’ll be fine.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “What did cheese do to you?” He teases before clicking the options to build a half and half pizza with the option Phil had suggested, as well as what he normally got.

“I don’t like cheese.” Phil shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but Dan’s head whips around to stare at him in shock.

“You’re kidding,” he gasps. “On second thought, I don’t know if this is going to work out.”

Phil rolls his eyes and gently elbows Dan in the ribs. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he whines. “I just can’t eat cheese. It makes me sick.” He flushes as if he’s embarrassed to admit this, but the knowledge that he doesn’t hate cheese and cheese just hates him settles Dan’s attitude.

“Oh, well that’s different. You can’t eat cheese, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to,” he says with a shrug. Phil opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak, but Dan is quick to bring a hand up to cover his mouth. “Nope. Don’t speak, you’ll ruin it.”

Phil’s eyes crinkle like he’s smiling, and Dan is so focused on how the different shades of blue swirl in his eyes that he jumps when he feels a little nip at the palm of his hand. When he pulls his hand away, Phil giggles, likely at his expression.

“Did you just- you bit me!” Dan accuses, staring at his hand as if he’s been infected.

“I did,” Phil agrees gleefully. He leans closer, dropping his head to press his mouth to Dan’s shoulder. Their eyes are locked when Phil gently nips at the skin covered by Dan’s t-shirt.

Something about the look in Phil’s eyes and seeing him mouthing at his shoulder like that makes Dan’s stomach swoop with arousal, and he can’t stop the shiver that wracks through his body. “You’re not…” He lets out a breath before glancing back at Phil, finding the other man looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “You’re not like a cannibal or something, right?”

Phil laughs then but shakes his head and leans away from Dan’s shoulder. “No. You do look good enough to eat though.” Dan feels his skin flush then, and Phil seems to misunderstand the reasoning for this. “I’m sorry, am I being too forward? I just- I don’t know, I’m not great at like flirting, but-“

Dan interrupts him then. “No, I promise you’re doing just fine. I just- ah, I’m not really used to that kind of attention unless it’s followed pretty directly by… well, you know,” he stammers, feeling embarrassed at admitting yet another fault in his and Ben’s… arrangement.

Instead of being bothered by this, Phil only smiles, shaking his head. “That’s a shame. If you’ll allow it, I fully plan on showering you with horrible attempts at flirting and compliments.”

With a snort, Dan finalizes their order and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table. He tries his best to act unaffected by Phil’s words, but he can feel his heart racing at the idea of being pampered like that. He’d gotten so comfortable with hiding any feelings he had for Ben, so this sounded like some kind of heaven to him. “I guess, if there’s no way to stop you, I’ll probably just have to deal with it,” he sighs, as if it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world. He remembers then that he wanted to go shower, so he stands to do just that.

Before he can make it past the coffee table, Phil sticks his feet up, trapping him in. “You know we have like fifteen minutes before the pizza gets here,” he says, his eyes holding a suggestion Dan really doesn’t want to turn down, but he knows that he needs a shower more than he needs to mess around with Phil. Besides, if he was actually staying the night, they’d have time for that, if they still wanted it.

“I know, but I need a shower, and you probably need some time to make sure you’re not making a mistake by staying.” He means it as a joke, but as he looks down at Phil, he realizes it might not be. He feels his heart clench at the idea that even after all this Phil might still leave, but he pushes that away.

Phil frowns at him and leans forward suddenly, dropping his feet in favor of reaching a hand up, tugging Dan down by his shirt. Dan barely has a moment to catch himself on Phil’s shoulder before their lips are meeting, his eyes slipping closed at the contact. Phil doesn’t linger long, but as soon as he lets go of Dan’s shirt, he leans back and levels him with a serious look. “I’ve had plenty of time, Dan.”

Swallowing hard, Dan tugs at his shirt and chews his bottom lip. “You’ll still be here when I come back?” He asks, just to make sure.

A pained look crosses Phil’s face, and he nods. “I swear. I’m not going anywhere.”

Dan nods, and he knows he’ll just have to trust him this time. “Okay. I’ll be right back, then.”

He can feel Phil’s gaze following him as he walks out of the lounge and makes his way to his bathroom. Although Phil had just promised he wouldn’t leave, Dan rushes to shower and wash his hair, finishing in less than ten minutes in his rush to make sure that Phil kept his promise. As soon as he’s finished, he throws a towel around his waist and makes his way to his bedroom to put on some pajamas.

After pulling on a stripey t-shirt and a pair of pants, Dan pauses, pondering the pros and cons of bothering with any actual pajama bottoms. If the evening was going where he thought it was, he wouldn’t really want the extra layer later, but if it wasn’t… well, it might be a bit awkward.

Rather than sit and dwell on it for too long, he trades his underwear for a pair that is slightly looser, as well as a baggier t-shirt with ugly cats on it. It could pass for everyday pajamas, he hoped. As an afterthought, he tugs out a second pair of pants and another t-shirt for Phil, just in case he really did plan to stay.

Once he’s finished and he’s certain he isn’t going to lose his nerve to wear what he has on, Dan makes his way back to the lounge.

And for the second time, his world feels like it’s crashing down, as he’s met with an empty lounge.

#phan #phanfiction #fake happy fic part two #swearing #drinking #light angst #i love a good plot twist ending huh

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