#y/n six months later or something: holy shit i am fucking awesome

[simping-on-the-daily]

Hmmmm,,,, villain AU but not in the traditional sense,,,, like,,, if Reader is constantly being hailed as a god, with gods, ancient beings, and others willing to die for you,, you'd have to be a saint to not let that get your head,,,,

Like, IDK you're visiting Earth to meet up with your family again. A select few have been chosen to accompany you on this journey, once more adorning you in praise and gifts as gratitude

But when you visit your family, they don't seem happy. They don't seem happy when they tell you about all of the things you've created. They're concerned for your dearest acolytes, worried about the casual self-dehumanization. Telling them that's it's normal will only worry them more.

They tell you that power corrupts. They tell you that they're scared. Not of your power, not because they're jealous of you, but because they can't recognize you. The fine silks that adorn your body, the divine aura that you radiate, the way you talk to your acolytes (you treat these living human beings like they're pets, and they don't even deny it). They think you're not the Y/N they once knew. That your time in Teyvat has corrupted you.

It's only because of your divine mercy that the chosen acolytes don't kill your kin. How dare they disrespect the very one who shaped Teyvat's land! How horrible could they be??

And as you return back to the land that you supposedly created, the hearts of every acolyte shatter upon your disastrous experience. They once more adorn you in praise and gifts, whispering soft melodies of comfort as you sit on the throne of Cor Lapis and Crystal Marrow

You were never the Creator. You were plopped into this strange land, and the land decided that you were the one who gave to life. Whether it was the way the grass felt softer whenever you walked or the way the feared archon of electricity herself kneeled in front of you, however, maybe you were the true creator.

You, Y/N L/N, was always the creator, taken from the land that you had built with loving hands into a world that hadn't been blessed by your brilliance. Your family should've been kneeling at the very sight of you, and yet they didn't. They talked to you as if you were just like them when they were nowhere near your level.

Once upon the time, the acolytes had told you that you were the true Divine One only to met with weak whimpers. But after some time, after all of the praise, all of the gifts, and all of the sheer undying love that they gave you, you finally saw the light. You accepted your position as The Almighty as you sat on your rightful throne, calling them good boys and girls as they all kneeled.

Now, as you sit, misery about your predicament gone, you casually stroke the cheeks of one of your acolyte's as you think. Zhongli had created mountains out of stone spears that crushed his enemies. The Vigilant Yaksha had once devoured dreams. A chamber made out of the finest jade crushed the ocean's rejected child under the unwelcoming sea. You had the land service your every needs, and the minimum of people that were kneeling before you right know was around 56.

Earth was so bleak. Maybe they just needed a push in the right direction. When your memories were gone and you banished to the mortal realm you were always a human never a god you're living in a delusion, your temporary family had always treated you with the utmost kindness. Of course, their love could never be stronger than that of the Vision Wielders, but they were the ones who had helped you see the light what light You still cared for these humans. You wanted to see them rise above long fallen ashes.

Perhaps you could gift another world with your divine benevolence.

[softspiderling]

swanky fortune - teaser | t.h.

Summary: When you clicked the ‘donate’ button on the GoFundMe page, you never would have expected to actually win. But are you going to take advantage of the opportunity or will you embarrass yourself in front of your celebrity crush?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Author’s Note: Hi guys! This is my first ever Tom Holland fic and I am very excited, this fic also somehow serves as my daydream of winning the ruffle to get to attend the premiere with Tom, so dream with me! I was hoping to turn this into a small series and I hope you are excited, cause I certainly am! This is a teaser, so please let me know if you are excited for more!

Warnings: cursing

Masterlist

Teaser | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

“- swanky hotel, give you a thousand dollar spending money, you’ll get to walk the red carpet with me, take some awesome pictures, hang out at the after party and best of all: watch the film with me, my friends and family at the LA premiere, which will be amazing.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered as you watched the new video Tom has just posted on Instagram, his voice fading into the background as you started day dreaming about winning the ruffle to attend the LA premiere with Tom.

You smoothed down your dress as you look into the mirror, letting out a small exhale. This was it. The day you’ve been dreaming of since clicking the green ‘donate’ button on GoFundMe. You never would have thought that you’d get the chance to meet your celebrity crush and attend a fricking red carpet event. You got a thousand dollars and best of all: you looked like a million bucks.

The dress you had picked out looked amazing on you and you just hoped that it would somehow impress Tom, even though you knew that you’d never be able to compete with the VIP guests that were attending the movie premiere. A sharp knock on the door interrupted you from your thoughts and you turned to the hotel room door, inhaling deeply before walking over to open it. But before your hand could wrap around the door handle, you were hit in the face with something soft.

“Y/N! Stop watching that video on loop, it’s annoying!” your brother complained as the pillow landed on the couch next to you after hitting you square in the face. You shook your head and glared at your younger brother who turned back to his own phone, before you swiped the video to the right, clicking on the link in Tom’s biography, filling out the form and donating 10$. You knew that the chance of winning was slim, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

Plus, supporting a charity wouldn’t do any harm and least of all, that was your good deed of the day. You tapped the ‘donate’ button, crossed your fingers and sent a prayer to the sky, before you tossed your phone to the side, getting up to get some work done for school.

A month later, you were swamped in your studies. You had to prepare three presentations for your seminars, had to do weekly readings for all of your classes and on top of all that, you had to find topics for your thesis papers. The people who say college life was a breeze, really could go fuck themselves. A ping interrupted your reading, as your phone lit up. Glancing at your phone with a pen in your mouth, you see a notification that Tom has just posted a video. You were tempted to reach out and unlock the screen, but knowing yourself, that would mean the end of your studying and you still had a lot to read before the day was over. So you let the screen turn off on its own and turned back to your laptop, squinting at the texts that seemed never ending.

You scribbled some key points on your notebook and grabbed your highlighter when an email notification popped up on your laptop screen. Sighing, you clicked on the notification, your eyes bulging as you read the content of the email.

“Hi Y/N Y/L/N!

I am pleased to announce that you are the lucky winner and that you get to attend the Far From Home premiere in LA with me! I hope you are as stoked as I am. Please let me know if you accept the invitation to the premiere and I hope to see you in a month!

Warmest regards,

Tom Holland.”

“Holy shit,” You mumbled, your mouth gaping.

“HOLY FUCK!”

next >

[alleiradayne]

Photograph

Summary: As a journalist, the reader hides her identity as the superhero, Moonlighter, from her photographer co-worker, Sam Winchester. Square Filled: Superhero AU Warnings/Tags: Fluff, sex in a bathroom, anal play, quickie, violence, guns, weapons, blood. Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Reader Word Count: 3,127 A/N: For @spnfluffbingo2019​, this fills the square Superhero AU. Thank you, as always, to @atc74​ for beta’ing. Song: Photograph by Def Leppard

“Can you run these beside your article?”

His voice sliced through the thick tangle of thoughts cluttering her mind. Time stretched, slowing until it hung suspended as Sam Winchester’s photographs slid across her desk. A hooded woman in a dark suit leaped across building tops, illuminated by the silvery moon high in the sky. Artistic though they were, the surreal sensation of seeing herself captured on camera sickened her to the bottom of her stomach.

“Y/N? Aren’t you writing the article on the… what are they calling her?” Sam asked.

“Moonlighter.”

“Wow.”

She pulled her eyes from the photographs to look at him. “It’s terrible, I know. I tried not to use it but nothing I wrote stuck. Everyone keeps calling her Moonlighter. Like she’s some sort of joke.”

Sam’s scoff mirrored her own irritation. “She’s doing some pretty awesome things for the city. And she’s giving me a run for my money. I’ve had to do four stakeouts overnight hoping to get a glimpse of her. Never did.”

Her blood ran cold, numbing her fingers and toes as her gaze fell back to the pictures. “Then how did you end up taking these?”

“Got lucky,” he said with a chuckle. “That building is right outside my apartment window.”

Christ. How careless of her. Time to stop using rooftops. Or at least, all the rooftops in the vicinity of Sam’s apartment.

“Well? Can you put the layout together?” Sam asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Or, if you want, we could do it together when you’re done writing. Let me know and we can meet up at the café downstairs?”

Her eyes snapped back to his where she expected to find some sort of come-hither gaze, but instead found nothing but his casual smile. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”

He blinked once, twice, then said, “Well, shit, I guess I did.”

Something about his smile disarmed her better than any piece of shit she frequently came across on the street. “I’ll let you know when I’m done, Sam.”

He smiled again as he turned for her door. “See you soon.”

Coffee in hand, Y/N returned to their corner of the café and collapsed into her overstuffed chair. Beside her Sam sat on a stool, laptop resting on his thighs and a full mug beside him.

“What do you think of this?”

He turned his laptop to her and scrolled through the article, his photographs—of her, God dammit all to hell—interspersed throughout the page. She would need to be more careful. No more rooftops. Alleys. Stick to alleys, and the likes of Sam Winchester would never—

“Y/N?”

Her focus returned at the sound of his voice. He had stopped scrolling and started at her, concern clouding his face. Under such scrutiny, Y/N shifted in her seat. “What?”

“I asked you a question,” he said. “How does this look?”

“It’s uh,” she started, but the bell over the door of the café snagged her attention. Three large men entered the café, and while Y/N might not have had a sixth sense or heightened hearing or any sort of fictional superhero nonsense, she didn’t need any of that bullshit. She knew those men, had seen them on the streets of her city countless nights.

“Dammit, Dolohova,” she spat.

“Who?”

Her glare snapped back to him. “Sam, I need you to listen to me,” she started.

“Does it need a footer?” he asked as he frowned, oblivious to the danger. But that wasn't his fault. With his back to the café, there was no way he could know.

“It needs a footer,” he confirmed as he looked back to the laptop.

“I'm not talking about the article,” Y/N snapped as she grabbed his shoulder. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Something is about to happen in here and I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Ow, hey, what are you—”

“Sh!” she hissed as she gave him a rough shake. “Look at me. Three men just walked in here looking like they owned the place. They probably do. Or their boss does.”

Sam started to turn, but Y/N shook him again. “Don’t! Keep your eyes on me. Smile. Act like we’re really on a date.”

“I thought we—”

She cut him off with a hard kiss, intent on protecting him and everyone in the café. At least, that’s what she told herself. Though a treat loomed, Y/N could not deny the fact that she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of Sam on her lips, his tongue eagerly delving into her mouth, and his soft gasp that lilted into a moan.

When she parted from him, Sam slowly opened his eyes and said, “So we are on a real date?”

“Yes, but this date is about to get really fucking weird,” she growled. “Here’s the plan. We’ll keep making out for seven minutes, then I’ll head to the bathroom. You’ll follow me no sooner than twenty-seven seconds later. Count in your head. Don’t look at your watch. They’ll think we’re going in there to fuck, so that’ll be a good cover.”

“Wait, I’m confused—”

“Sam, I need you to trust me,” Y/N interrupted. “This café has been paying Dolohova’s mob for ‘protection’. And by protection, I mean destruction. Those enforcers are collecting the monthly payment. If the café doesn’t pay, Dolohova’s men wreck the place and buy it out from the owner.”

He stared at her with such aghast shock, Y/N thought she had sprouted a second head. His wide hazel eyes flicked between hers as though searching, but for what she couldn’t be sure. Then his smile spread across his lips—fuck, but he was pretty—and his gaze softened. His hand slipped into her hair as he neared her, lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“I’ve been on the Dolohova case for nearly a year,” he whispered. “And you had all the answers the whole time.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam, I couldn’t tell you,” she breathed. “It’s… I’m—”

“Moonlighter.”

The shock of cold dread slammed into her stomach like a hard-high knee. “I am.”

“My girlfriend is a superhero,” he whispered as he kissed along her jaw.

“Okay, first, I’m not your girlfriend, and second, I’m not a superhero,” she said. “I’m just a person.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, “I’ve been following Moonlighter for months. I’ve seen what you can do.”

Her eyes rolled closed as his sealed his lips on the pulse point of her neck. “Alright, fine, so I’m kinda strong.”

“You throw men twice your size through plate-glass. And you know about fifteen different forms of martial arts,” he stated.

God dammit. “I’m going to ignore all of that,” she started as she shoved him back. When she stood, Y/N forced her best smile to her lips. “Twenty-seven seconds. Start counting.”

She turned on her heel and withdrew her phone from her pocket as she headed for the bathroom. Mismatched chairs and tables crowded the small café, and Y/N navigated the space so that, by the time she neared the end of the counter, she was within arm’s reach of the nearest enforcer.

“We don’t have it,” the woman behind the register said. “That’s almost double last month.”

“Services have expanded,” one of the enforcers said. “So, price goes up. You pay now, we leave. You don’t, we stay and…”

He turned over his shoulder as Y/N passed them, her face buried in her phone as she giggled to herself. Once she rounded the corner, she returned her phone to her pocket and flattened herself against the wall.

“We stay and clean up.”

That was all the confirmation she needed.

Y/N darted into the bathroom and immediately stripped. Beneath her casual blouse and slacks, she wore a suit black as night, the material unknown to her. She hadn’t been about to ask her tailor questions, though. Where he got the material was his business. All that mattered to her was that it stopped bullets and knives.

Over her head she pulled on her full mask and lifted the cowl as she glanced in the mirror. Two white orbs provided her full peripheral view, unimpeded by the cowl or the mask itself. The last of her suit came together in flat boots designed for maximum flexibility, and a pair of gloves to keep her prints out of the game.

And then she withdrew the most iconic piece of her identity from her purse. The small silvery cylinder concealed easily in her palm as the door of the bathroom creaked open and Sam slipped inside. The deadbolt locked behind him, and Y/N hoped it confirmed their ruse. She turned for the window nearby only to freeze as Sam startled.

“Holy shit.”

She wheeled about, coiled like a spring. “What?!”

“I… it’s not that I didn’t believe you,” Sam started. “I did. Those men… they’re starting to argue with the owner. But I didn’t really think…”

She lifted her mask and ran into his arms, lips landing on his for a quick kiss. “You didn’t really think your girlfriend was a superhero.”

“I thought you said you weren’t my girlfriend.”

Y/N righter her mask as she darted back to the window and opened it. With a flick of her thumb, she released the spring on the silver cylinder in her palm, and the six-foot bo staff extended with a sharp crack. Over her shoulder she said, “I am now.”

With that, she leapt through the window and into the darkness of night.

From single to dating a superhero in fifteen minutes, Sam reeled. So deep in thought, he barely heard the shouting from the cafe, and it wasn’t until a bullet burst through the tile of the bathroom that he remembered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—shit.”

A shower of tile and bullets rained down on him as Sam hit the floor and crawled to the door. There he unlocked the bolt and crouched through the door into the hallway near the register. With his back to the wall, he peaked around the frame and his jaw might as well have hit the floor.

Y/N whirled between the three men as though she were made of water and they of stone. Faster than lightning, she struck with her staff, cracking wrists and fingers and ankles, disarming and disabling. A vicious angled strike slashed the pointed tip of her staff down one man’s face, and he collapsed to the floor screaming, both hands clasped over one eye.

In that moment’s breath to disable one of the men, the other two had recovered their weapons.

“Stop!”

The bull man’s bellow echoed through the café. Screams of terrified patrons followed, hot on the heels of his commands.

“Leave, Night-Light,” the big man said.

“It’s Moonlighter,” the second man corrected.

“Whatever! I don’t care! Leave, or we kill everyone in here,” the bull-man roared.

A second ticked past, Y/N coiled with her staff in both hands. But then she relaxed, her weight on one foot and a hand on her hip. Her head cocked to one side as she spoke. “You know, I get how you Russians haggle and win. You’re terrible at it.”

“What?!” Bull-Man said.

“Leave or we kill everyone in here,” she mocked in an impressive Russian accent, and Sam had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “You sound like some sort of bad movie villain. In fact, everything about this,” she paused as she gestured to the café, “screams Bad Superhero Movie.”

Bull-Man bellowed another roar of rage as he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Six shots in quick succession missed their mark, deflected by the whirling silver blur that was Y/N’s staff. Repeated clicks of an empty pistol followed, and Bull-Man tossed it aside.

True to his size, he charged headlong into Y/N. She sidestepped him with practiced ease and vaulted into the air with her bo staff readied. A streak of silver flashed as she whipped the end of her staff around to strike the side of the giant man’s neck, the snap of bone audible clear across the cafe where Sam yet hid in the shadows of the hallway.

The man dropped to the floor in a heap, his massive body an unmoving lump. Y/N turned then to the remaining enforcer and shook her head as though shocked to see him still aiming his gun at her. He seemed to struggle with his options, glancing first to the door, then to the back of the café where Sam hid.

“Really?” she asked.

The man whirled about, and after a beat, dropped his gun. His hands shot into the air, and not a second later, police sirens rose in the distance, still miles away.

“And that’s my cue,” Y/N said as she strode to the man. A flick of her wrist snapped the staff across the backs of his knees as she passed him, and he crumpled to the floor howling. Seemingly satisfied, she loped the length of the café to the rear where she reunited with Sam.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she declared.

“That was insane,” Sam corrected. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

She grabbed him by the back of his upper arm and hauled into the bathroom again. “These are the rules. If we’re gonna be together, you get to know who I am, no lies. But that’s the price you pay. You get to know who I am. You get to live with that constant fear that someone is finally gonna get the best of me, and I might die. I’m not stopping. Not for a relationship. I know who I am as a person. Not as a superhero. And these are my convictions. I don’t expect you to be okay with any of that, but those are my terms, and—”

Sam lunged, and as much as he wanted to believe that he had caught her unaware, he knew she had let him pick her up and carry her into a stall. She tore her mask from her head, and he kissed her as hard as she had kissed him in the café.

Though the police sirens howled miles away, Y/N tore at his pants, buckle and zipper opening beneath her fingers. Sam parted from her in a breathless gasp and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m on a massive adrenaline rush, and after you manhandled me into this stall, I’m sopping wet, and you are way too hot not to finish what you started,” she said.

Her honesty—not to mention the language she chose—stiffened his cock, straining against his tight boxers. And yet, as the sirens continued to grow louder, he hesitated. “The cops—”

“Will be here in six minutes. Think you can satisfy us both that fast?”

He dropped her to her feet, grabbed her by the hips and spun her to face the wall. Pleased, Y/N moaned as he shoved her against the wall and pinned her to it with his entire body. He grasped at her suit until he found a seam at her hips, and the material bunched as he shoved it to her ankles. Her back arched as though presenting herself to him, a subtle shimmer coating her sex, and Sam wasted no more of the precious seconds they had left.

He shoved his pants to his knees and withdrew himself from his underwear, the waistband hooked under his sac. When he looked up to find Y/N staring, a familiar sting burned in his cheeks. “What?”

She licked her lips, then spoke. “Oh, I have a feeling I’m going to be more than satisfied.”

“Yeah?” He dragged the tip through her arousal, coating himself as her lips spread for him. “You like it?”

“I’ll know when you’re—oh, fuck me, Sam.”

His hips snapped, slamming his cock into her completely. “Holy shit, you feel so damn good, Y/N.”

“Five minutes,” she stated as she bucked her hips. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll take care of myself on you.”

Sam withdrew and set his grueling pace, hips pumping into her ass in quick snaps. Y/N grasped his wrist and pulled it from her hip to shove his hand between her thigh. “Four and a half minutes. You’ve got a lot of work to do, Sam Winchester.”

Fuck. “Like this?” he asked as he rubbed furious circles around her swollen clit.

“Harder,” she moaned.

Sam thrust as hard as he could, the slaps of their bodies echoing in the tiled bathroom. Y/N moaned so loud, he knew anyone left in the café could hear her, but he didn’t care. If anything, it only heightened his arousal.

“Two and a half,” she breathed. “I’m close, baby. You feel so damn good with that big fat cock inside me.”

“Oh, god, Y/N, you keep talking like that, I’m gonna come,” he growled.

“Do it, Sam,” she hissed. “Come in me. Come inside my pussy.”

He ground his teeth as he grasped her hip with his free hand. “No, I want you to come first.”

“Sixty seconds, then, honey,” she mewled. “I’m so close, keep going.”

His grip on her backside adjusted, and his thumb pressed to her asshole. A shriek of surprise lilted into a moan so lascivious, Sam growled in his effort to hold back. “Come for me, Y/N. Come on my cock.”

Rapid shudders coursed down her spine as the walls of her cunt squeezed and spasm. “Yes, Sam, harder. Fuck me, baby, keep going. Thirty seconds.”

“I… fuck I can’t—”

Another wild wail filled the bathroom as Y/N unraveled, her entire body writhing in her release. A fresh coating of her arousal gathered on his cock as he continued to thrust into her pussy, his own orgasm ravaging his entire body. His cock twitched a hard, prolonged flex as he came, balls emptied into her as he buried himself inside her.

The police sirens exploded as several cars raced down the streets connected to the back alley of the café. Y/N moved swift as a cat, cleaned and clothes righted in a blur of arms and hands. When she turned and found Sam still reeling from his orgasm, a pink hue colored her cheeks.

“Five minutes and forty-five seconds,” she said as she slipped her mask over her face. “Meet me at my apartment in an hour?”

Sam righted his pants as he followed her from the stall. “Yeah, right after I talk to the police.”

She pushed the open window aside and stepped onto the ledge. “Make sure you're outside in about ten minutes.”

“Why?”

She hopped into the alley as she said, “You'll need a few more photographs to go with my article on Moonlighter!”

If you want in on any of my tags (Sam/Jared, Dean/Jensen), send me a DM or an ask!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN FLUFF BINGO MASTERLIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74  @hannahindie @bevans87  @meganwinchester1999  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus  @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox @wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm  @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs  @seenashwrite  @canadianspnhunter  @meowmeow-motherfucker @depressed-moose-78 @staycejo1 @hobby27  @pretty-fortune @mypopculturediva @fanfictionjunkie1112 @sandlee44 @4llmywr1tings @claitynroberts @maddiepants​ @scarletluvscas @donnaintx​ @blackeyedangel9805​ @rainflowermoon​ @winchesterprincessbride  @lazinessisalliknow​ @the-is13​ @waywardafgrandma​ @keymology​ @sister-winchesters99​

Sam’s Sasstresses (Jared):

@morganas-pendragons​ @karouwinchester​

[shookethbrooketh]

seven days (i’ll find you in any world)

day six

summary: dan is stuck in the wrong timeline. one day, he kisses phil goodnight. the next morning, he’s completely alone. he doesn’t even recognize where he wakes up, and little details in the world around him have changed. he has no clue what’s happening or where to go next in an effort to fix it; all he knows is that he has to find phil.

genre: sci-fi, a lil bit of angst, happy ending

warnings: just some swearing!

fic word count: 16.0k chapter word count: 2.4k

a/n: yes, i am back with the second to last chapter of this fic! i haven’t updated this fic in months, but i wanted to come back and finish it for you guys now that i’ve got some free time. i hope you all enjoy!! 

written for the @phandomreversebang ! inspired by the awesome moodboard/edits by @maybeformepersonally ! beta’d (beginning to end) by @i-might-just-leave-soon !

out of the corner of his eye, he caught phil being thrusted violently into a blue and purple void, but he didn’t have much time to focus on his counterpart, as he was being pulled backwards into his own void. his limbs were thrashing uncontrollably, and it took all he had not to open his mouth and let the bag escape him. as he fell farther away from phil’s flat and the universe he had come to know for a day, the edges of his vision began to go black, and all faded away into the darkness. 

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“The paper!” Dan whispered to himself with a sense of urgency; unlike days past, today Dan hadn’t managed a few seconds of blissful ignorance upon waking up. He stared at his open hands, and even his sleep-blurred vision could tell that there was no paper waiting for him. He jumped out of bed, barely taking notice of the fairly nice bed he’d woken up in, and began immediately tearing it apart in search of the paper. He must have dropped it in his sleep, he kept telling himself, although he knew it wasn’t true. A frenzy later, the room was in shambles, and the paper was nowhere to be found. 

“Fuck,” was all Dan could say as he slumped back onto the bed and put his head in his hands. At that point, he couldn’t help but take a few moments to simply cry. That moment was one of the ones where he’d missed Phil the most; he wanted nothing more than to call Phil and cry to him, explaining to him how overwhelming the past week had been for him, but even his support system had left him, and he had nothing left to do but sob out the occasional ranting phrase to himself.

About half an hour later, he’d tired himself out, and his greatest desire had become going back to sleep, but he knew that wasn’t what the day had planned for him. Overcoming his serotonin deficiency was almost as hard if not harder for him than overcoming the fact that he was literally ten years in the past, but he had to do it. He could feel how close he was to Phil, HIS Phil, and that alone was keeping him going. 

“I remember seeing a phone around here somewhere when I was destroying everything in a five foot radius of the bed,” Dan muttered to himself, all of a sudden realizing the possibility that there was someone else in the residence. He paused for a moment, poking his head out of the bedroom door. “Holy shit,” he said. The apartment he was in was even nicer than the one he and Phil had, and they had a pretty expensive flat. “Who the hell am I?” he asked no one in particular, and he was lucky to find that no one answered. “A rich loser, apparently,” he noted. 

He found the phone, which was, unsurprisingly, an iPhone 3GS. To Dan, it appeared archaic, but he remembered getting it shortly after his eighteenth birthday when it was brand new, and it was the absolute top of the line at the time. “This must be the timeline where I have ridiculously rich parents,” he quipped as he dressed himself. His clothes were nearly as fancy as the flat, but luckily what society found snobby in 2009 was nowhere near as atrocious to his 2019 brain. 

It also didn’t take Dan long to find an excess of cash lying around, and it took him even less time to figure out what he was going to do with it. He opened Google Maps and immediately found a Starbucks within a mile, and there was no doubting that he needed something to perk him up after such a devastating morning. 

Dan made his way down to the street and started following the map to the energy boost. The walk only took him about fifteen minutes, but he was already exhausted by the time he got there, and he needed that coffee almost as much as he needed to find Phil. As soon as he opened the door, though, he found he could kill two birds with one stone. 

“What can I get you?” a 2009 Phil asked the person in the front of the line. Dan couldn’t help but lock onto him; it felt a bit odd, as if his brain had shouted, “target acquired”, but he was just naturally and immediately attracted to Phil. 

The few moments standing in line waiting were agony for Dan, but he finally reached the front of the line and ordered a Pumpkin Spice Latte. “Y’know,” Phil said as he made the drink, “I’ve never tried one of these before. Is it good?” he asked, turning to face Dan and looking him up and down. “Or is it just one of those rich boy tastes?” 

Dan felt a shiver run down his spine; this Phil was aggressive. “It’s pretty good; it’ll be real big in a few years.” 

“Come again?” 

Dan’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d said. “Nothing.” 

Phil raised an eyebrow before turning back to the drink machine. He finished the drink and pulled out a sharpie to write Dan’s name on the cup. As he did, he looked up at Dan, making eye contact with him, and seemed to make a deeply analyzed decision before adding something else on the cup. 

“Dan!” he shouted, although he really didn’t need to, and handed him the cup. Dan read it; there seemed to be a phone number and the time “4:00” printed sloppily below his name. ‘Call me after I get off,’ Phil mouthed to him from across the counter. Dan took a deep breath before finding a place to sit and sip his coffee. The day had begun. 

A few hours later, Dan was sitting back in his flat of the day, staring at Phil’s phone number. After ten years and multiple universes, Dan would have thought he’d be able to call Phil without becoming extremely anxious, but still he couldn’t seem to pick up the phone. “Bullshit,” he muttered as he frantically typed the number into the keypad, rushing to push the call button before he changed his mind. 

“Hello?” Phil responded through the phone. 

“Hey, uhm, it’s Dan. The bo-” 

“Boy from the coffee shop, yeah,” Phil interrupted and finished the phrase for him. “You should come over to mine. Like, now.” 

Dan was right--this Phil was definitely quite aggressive. 

“Oh, sure. What’s your address?” 

Dan scrambled to find somewhere to write down the address and listened intently as Phil recited the numbers for the third time. Thankfully, his idiocy didn’t seem to put Phil off at all. 

“Great, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said once he’d gotten the address written down correctly. They said their goodbyes, and Dan was on his way. 

Dan couldn’t help but get inside his own head as he walked down the sidewalk. “He was really intent on getting me to come over, wasn’t he?” he mumbled to himself. “If I hadn't known him for ten years, I might have been a bit creeped out.” He stared at his feet as he walked. “I suppose I really haven’t known him for ten years. Not this him, at least.” 

He walked in silence the rest of the way; anxiety was beginning to eat away at him. He was starting to get an instinctual feeling in his stomach that something was wrong, but he couldn’t turn back. He had to go meet Phil; it was his only way of getting home. 

Finally, he reached Phil’s flat, and he was sweating profusely by the time he knocked on the door. Phil opened it almost immediately, with a huge smile on his face. “Dan! Come in.” 

He followed Phil into the flat and was immediately taken aback. The entire space was filled with makeshift scientific machines that Dan couldn’t even begin to imagine the function of. It was like the garage in Rick and Morty, but these contraptions looked like they’d all been shakily built in the last few hours. 

“So, Dan,” he said, sitting on a couch in the back of the room that seemed to be the only functional space in the flat. “You’re a time traveler?” 

He liked to cut to the chase, apparently. 

“Uh, y-” 

“You’re here from 2019.” 

“Yeah, I am,” Dan said cautiously, fear coursing through him. 

Phil strode up to him, close enough that Dan could feel his breath on his face. “Me too. And I think you’re the reason why.” 

“I haven’t done anything to cause this!” Dan shouted, suddenly defensive. He was having by far the worst six days of his life, and he wasn’t exactly happy to have the blame put on him for it. 

“You’re the anomaly, Dan,” Phil said, putting an edge on his name that sent shivers down his spine. “Now tell me exactly what you’re doing here.” Phil poked him directly in the chest, and Dan jumped back. 

“This is fucking insane. I don’t want to be here! I just woke up in a different universe a few days back, and now I’m stuck here.” 

Phil’s face softened a bit. “Hmm.” He frantically searched for something to write on, and Dan couldn’t help but wonder if he was on some sort of stimulant. “Tell me everything.” 

Phil was serious when he asked Dan to tell him everything. They talked about their recent experiences for hours and hours, continuing even as darkness began to enclose Phil’s flat.

“I think it’s clear what’s going on here,” Phil said after a rare moment of silence. 

“How is anything about this clear?” Dan asked, exasperated after dealing with Phil’s cokehead rambling for hours. 

“The Phil you talked to a few days ago had it explained perfectly. Another Phil tested on you, and he screwed up your timeline. Then your Phil went after you. That’s why I’m here.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Just sounds like the kind of thing he’d do, from what I’ve heard.” Dan rolled his eyes. “Even if it isn’t him, some Phil went after his Dan. There’s certainly piles and piles of parallel universes where you’re together, so it makes sense. And this is my first day stuck here, so he must have left yesterday.” 

“So now all the Phils are screwed up too?” Dan asked, a pit growing in his stomach. He didn’t have a scientific understanding of the situation like Phil did, but he knew that both of them being lost in parallel universes was not the best situation for Dan finding his Phil. 

“Sort of. But that could be very dangerous. When two anomalies take place at once, they could collide.” 

Dan’s eyes popped out of his head. “What the hell does that mean?” 

“See, this is the one thing that the other Phil you talked to was wrong about. Not all Dans and all Phils are screwed up quite yet. Anomalies are a ripple effect,” Phil responded, starting to draw on a chalkboard he somehow had in the flat. “They start in one universe, and then spread to all of its parallel universes,” he said, providing a visual involving way too many circles for Dan to follow. “Then they spread to the next layer of universes, and so on and so forth. If two anomalies collide,” he started, writing up a formula that confused Dan even more, “the timeline splits beyond repair after 24 hours. That’s when every Dan and every Phil will be affected, and that’s when neither of us will ever be able to get our timelines back.” 

“Wait,” Dan tried to interject, but Phil vocalized his concern before he could even think it through fully.” 

“And judging by the fact that I’m pretty confident that a Phil tried to time travel to get back to a Dan affected by the anomaly, they’ve definitely already intersected.” 

“What are you saying?”

“If we can’t fix this by tomorrow, we never will.” 

Dan sat in silent awe for a moment. He looked up at Phil, and just for a moment he saw the 22-year-old boy he’d fallen in love with. He blinked, and that Phil was gone. All that was left was a form who met him just that morning. “One more day,” was all he said. One more day, and he’d never see his Phil again. 

“One more day,” Phil confirmed. 

Dan took a deep breath before standing up. “Let’s get to work.” 

Dan spent the next few hours acting as Phil’s secretary as he calculated every possible formula and attempted every possible test to repair a timeline. 

By the time the night was up, Dan had made multiple runs for coffee and office supplies, and the entire floor of Phil’s flat was littered with crumpled papers. Finally, Phil looked up at Dan with desperation in his eyes. “This is it,” he said, holding up a paper. “This is the only thing I think could work.” 

Dan stared expectantly back at him. “Then try it!” 

“It’s only five minutes until midnight. There’s no time.” 

Dan could feel his body beginning to shut down. “But you have to do something!” he shouted, shaking as his heart beat out of his chest. 

“There’s nothing I can do!” Phil shouted back. “You have to take this to your next timeline,” he said, holding out the paper he’d written his solution on.” 

“Me? Why me?” he asked. “You’re the one who understands it!” 

“I can’t,” he said. “You remember that Phil telling you that we can feel the rights and wrongs of the timeline?” 

Dan nodded, his breathing suddenly slowing.

“Trust me. You’re the one who needs this.”

Dan reached out and took the paper, a wave of calm coming over him. “What do I do with this? The last time I tried to take something from one day to another, I lost it.” 

“Put it in your mouth,” Phil said almost too quickly. 

“That’s disgusting,” Dan responded. 

“Just do it! It’s a basic of time travel,” Phil snapped.

“Can you at least put it in a bag so the ink doesn’t run?” Dan asked, visibly annoyed. Phil found a Ziploc and handed it over, allowing Dan to put the paper inside. Dan put the bag in his mouth, and only a few seconds later he felt the ground come out from under him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Phil being thrusted violently into a blue and purple void, but he didn’t have much time to focus on his counterpart, as he was being pulled backwards into his own void. His limbs were thrashing uncontrollably, and it took all he had not to open his mouth and let the bag escape him. As he fell farther away from Phil’s flat and the universe he had come to know for a day, the edges of his vision began to go black, and all faded away into the darkness.