#anyway gonna tell the head of phils to keep an eye lmao

[dickgreyson]

one of my essays from back when i studied philosophy is being put into a good answers guide at my university<3 not one of my good ones but

[strawberry-jammers]

My melody (pt 2)

a ghostbur x reader in which you get injured and a friendly ghost is there to help

part 1 part 2 part 3

longer than the last one lmao also unedited

The ghost whent over and handed me some blue dye. All i could do was stare at the familier face, the face that resembled the old, dead, president. Yet it didnt at the same time. It was so much softer, kinder in a way. Yet it held some sort of emotion behind those white eyes that couldnt be seen.

It wasnt insanity like old wilbur.

"Please take the blue, you seem sad." I looked down at this grey-ish hands. The blue dye sat, turning his hands blue the longer he held it.

I took it, slightly confused at the whole situation.

"Um, who are you?" I asked, he smiled brightly. "Im ghostbur!! Your (y/n) right?? I remember you, alivebur liked you a lot. Tho I cant remember much, which is weird sense you dont seem to bring sad memorus." I looked at the blue instead of the ghost.

I didnt have many happy memorys of Wilbur.

The ghost kept smiling. "Say, why are you in bed? Its daytime you know." I looked back at him. "Oh, i got injured, so im in bed healing." The ghost grabbed more blue from his pockets. "Here have some blue!" He put it in my hands. "Um, ghostbur i have no where to put this..." He shoke his head. "You dont keep it, you throw it away! You hold the blue, it sucks up all your sadness, and then you threw it away, taking the sadness with it!" I nodded. "Cool cool, one problem, I cant get out of bed." He nodded, understanding the problem. He looked around, looking for something to help.

He ran over to an empty box in the corner,  grabbing it and pulling out a pen out of his endless pocket. Scribbling on it, he runs back, showing me the box.

It says 'sadness'. "Here, you can throw the blue in here, and when your better, you can throw it out!" I nodded, putting the blue in the box. The ghost closed it, putting it on the floor next to the bed. "There! Now you can feel better!" I smiled. "Yeah."

"Anyways, i better get going! Im running out of invis pots and need to make more. It was nice seeing you (y/n)!!!" I smiled. "It was nice meeting you ghostbur." I waved, watching the ghost leave, closing the door behind him.

He came over everyday after that. Giving me blue at random, and telling me about what someone did that day.

It was cute really. He got excited over the most mudain things.

"Then Tommy punched him, it wasnt very nice of him, but he said he was a wrongen so its okay." I chuckled, knowing Tommy just said that to not get in trouble. "What else did he do?"

Ghostbur loved telling me storys. Most of them where just about him makimg invis potions, or trying to hang out with fundy, but i loved Them all. He had an enthusiasm that i missed. Something that was missing after lmanburg gained independance.

"(Y/n), whos been taking care of you? Making sure you get all healthy and stuff?" Ghostbur asks, siting beside me in my big ass bed. "Oh, Phil and niki. They usually come by early in the morning." He nodds. "I havnt seen niki, is she doing okay?" I nodded. "Shes like everyone else I guess. They seem to just be focusing on building lmanburg again."

"Theyve been doing a really good job, it looks beautiful." I nodded. "Wish i could see it." Ghostbur looked at me. "Have some blue have some blue. Wait, didnt you say you might get to walk soon?" I nodded, putting the blue in the sad box. "Yeah, but honestly my burns still hurt like hell. Idk if im up for it." Ghostbur shook his head, getting up swiftly.

I looked at him curiously as he walked over twords me. "Come on." He says softly, grabbing my good hand. His hands where cold as ice. Didnt know ghosts actually where cold.

I followed him, slowly getting up from my bed, wobbling in the process. "Hey ive got you." Nodded, I fully stood up. "We're gonna walk now. Hold onto me okay?" Ive never seen ghostbur like this. Naive yes, cheery yes, but never...serious? I dont know, normally he doesnt know whats going on.

I took a step forward, my legs having fallen asleep slightly. They still hurt, the burns still hot even after a few months.

We did this for awhile, getting used to walking again.

"Hey you did it! Do you think your up for going to lmanburg?" Ghostbur says, still holding me up. "Yeah, Lemme change real quick tho."

"Yeah but...you might fall." I chuckled slightly. "Im glad your worried, but i need to change. Ive been in the same cloths for weeks." He nodded, slowly letting me go. I wobble slightly at the loss of stability. "Ive got this."

I take one step twords my dresser,

Falling imidietly.

"Are you okay??" Ghostbur says, running twords my side quickly. "Yeah im good, just an idiot hehe." He shook his head. "No, your not an idiot. Can you stand?" I nodded. Ghosbur helped me to my feet.

"Help me to the dresser." I ask, chuckling nervously. He nodded, helping me walk to get cloths. "Didnt think it would be this hard to walk." I say, grabbing out something to wear. "I mean, you did hurt both your legs..." Ghostbur says, grabbing some blue and floating around the room.

"Yeah, and i havnt been using them for a month or two. Its just gonna be hard to reagust i guess..." I put the cloths I picked on the bed and looked at ghostbur. "Hey bur, can you leave the room so i can change real quick?" Ghostbur nodded, happily exsiting the room so i can change.

Putting on some old cloths i used to wear before the wars, i finish up and look at the box of sadness that was on the floor next to my bed. Ghostbur said he wanted to do something with it when I got better.

Knock kncok. "May I come in?" Ghostbur asks, standing on the other side of the door. The ghost walks in, immediatly gushing about my outfit. "Aww you look so cute!! The overalls and sweater combo really works for you!" I smile at the ghostly man. "Thanks. Say, didnt you want to do something with this when i got better?" I say, holding up the box. Ghostbur nodded. "We're gonna throw all your sadness away! Come on, lets go see lmanburg and throw out the sadness." The ghost grabs the box, and helps me out the door.

Exiting that old home felt like bliss. Something i never new i missed in these last months. To lmanburg then.

[houndsharkk]

alright alright, do yall want my dreamSMP headcanons?? keep in mind that i only watch a few of them

/dsmp

Possible TW's: trauma, manipulation, death, suicide, overdose; the basic dreamSMP stuff, unfortunately.

ok here we go:

Dream - a separate entity from DreamXD, though they are related; perhaps XD is from another universe? anyways, Dream was possessed by a 'Dreamon' at a young age, making him think that things like manipulation are ok simply because he didn't know any better. he says he's trying to get better, but is he? no. this is just another trick to make Tommy think he can change. Jacob Sheep horns are slowly growing (sheep-hybrid thanks to his mother, Cpt. Puffy). Him becoming family with George and Sapnap made him realize that he can make his own family, an idea which he twisted and turned into manipulation. In his words, paraphrased, he "did a bad thing but for good reasons" which were "bringing the server together"; he wanted to be a family with him in control, a dictatorship, a hivemind.

Drista - Dream's sister, more related to XD than Dream is. somewhat OP but has morals unlike her brother.

George - Mooshroom hybrid!! Has a little mushroom crown and cape because he thinks of himself as royalty (he isn't) - has little horns and a little tail. Misses Dream the most out of the Dream Team, but somewhat afraid of him. Wants 'the old dream' back, which was partly a persona and partly Dream learning about found family. He tries not to get involved with politics or the server after the events of the first wars, because he's scared. Sleeps through things as an excuse. Awesamdude's kid - doesn't tell anyone.

Sapnap - Dragon hybrid - has small horns and a tail, with burn marks at the base of them. His hands and feet are clawed and burnt. He also wants their Dream back, but understands that he was always corrupt and has mostly gotten over it. Wants to help with the Egg but, like George, doesn't like getting involved with big things on the server. He's ashamed of his dragon heritage, covering up his head burns with a headband and covering his horns with his hair; he hides his tail under a cape and wears gloves as well. Sapnap has unnaturally orange eyes, which he would change with contacts, if they didn't melt anytime he tried. Battle-scarred and hungry to start fights and sever friendships out of boredom. Badboyhalo's child.

Callahan - Cervitaur (deer-centaur). Distantly related to Puffy, Captain Sparklez, and Schlatt. I will admit, I have never watched him, and I don't think he's ever been too involved in server politics? Just a simple deer man trying to live his life.

Awesamdude - Creeper centaur thing (he and Callahan are... cousins? i guess?). Incredibly insecure about his morality and the fact that George doesn't talk to him much. Thinks he's a bad person. He becomes a father figure to Tommy through his Sam Nook persona - slowly gaining his confidence back through his real estate and his (illegal) adoption of the gremlin. Badass. Runs the prison by himself because he feels the need to prove himself, and he doesn't know anyone that would be up to the job.

Alyssa - inactive :[ probably human

Ponk - Human!! One of the few humans on this server, actually! He quite likes building and terraforming; he makes very aesthetic builds (see; war campsite). He and Sam are close friends. Ponk is also a parental figure to Tommy, but is closer to the fun uncle. The three of them steal together and then Ponk and Sam cover for Tommy because who could accuse them of lying?? Hesitant to join in with politics.

BadBoyHalo - Demon. Very, very tall demon. Large. Pretty wholesome. I honestly don't know what else to say about him lmao I haven't been paying attention to the Egg much. He and Skeppy are a thing though. Wishes his son would stop killing people's pets to start wars.

TommyInnit - He doesn't know what kind of hybrid he his, but he isn't human. His eyes change color with mood, going from a light grey to an extremely vibrant cobalt blue. He believes he may be part raccoon, or part bird(?) on Philza's side. Phil wasn't around during his childhood; Tommy only knew him as the hero from the strories that his older brother Wilbur told him. Philza killing Villain!Bur cemented his heroship, which is why Tommy sees him as a father figure. Wilbur never told him that he (Phil) was their father. Tommy is actually part siren, but his gills and fins haven't appeared yet. His PTSD is triggered by Dream, blackstone, tnt, people asking for his armor, and a few other things. An extremely traumatized kid. Best friends with Tubbo.

Tubbo - Sheep hybrid. His horns started coming in during Schlatt's presidentship, making him think he was a goat and following in his footsteps. In reality, he's Captain Sparklez's son; related to Schlatt yes, but not at all like him. He likes headbutting the people he loves, including his best friend Tommy. Wholesome, but still a chaotic being of destruction. He and Ranboo are also very good friends!

Fundy - Fox shifter; unlike most of the other hybrids on this server (other than Techno), he can turn into an anthro fox. Canonically transgender! Son to WilburSoot and Sally the Salmon (another shifter). Wilbur was an amazing father while Fundy was small, but started neglecting him during the Presidency, when he really needed a father. The two grew apart further during Pogtopia, and Fundy still tries to refuse his father's attempts at redemption. Despite this, Fundy and Ghostbur, even though they've had arguments, have a better relationship. Fundy is even one of the people who are attempting to bring back Wilbur. He sees Phil as a somewhat father figure despite him trying to be bitter towards him. Very involved with L'manburg and DreamSMP poilitics, but has taken a step back since his dad's death. Fundy also canonically misses Schlatt and wants him to be proud of him. He picked up smoking from him.

Punz - gonna be honest, I have never watched Punz.

Purpled - Enderdragon hybrid. Like Sapnap, but purple lol. Use to have a healthy rivalry with Technoblade, but doesn't talk to him anymore. A bit reserved. I don't watch him either idk if you could tell.

Wilbur - Bird hybrid, like Philza; his wings were clipped by Dream when he first began fighting for independence. Good friends with Technoblade. Wilbur was an idealistic person, and he was probably the most loyal member of L'manburg. He was so upset about the betrayals, he thought of them not as betrayals to the country, but to himself. When Schlatt took over, he began to panic. His perfect nation was being ruined, his nation, HIS nation. He thought of it as his and his alone; all those other people? They were side characters. L'manburg his unfinished symphony wasn't his anymore. It scared him. He began planning to take the country out because, well, if he can't have him, then no one can. He manipulated Tommy, making him go along with his plan, slowly becoming more insane and destructive. Deep down, Wil still loved his family, and his country, and his lost lover, but that didn't matter to him anymore. After blowing up L'manburg (the first explosion), Wilbur broke down. He realized what he had done, he'd become a bad guy; he'd worked with Dream. He asked his father to kill him. And so Philza did.

Ghostbur - Wings work again. Ghostbur pretends not to remember, he pretends that he's changed in death, but he remembers all of it. The bad memories hurt him now, more than ever, and he just can't deal with it; so he doesn't. Water makes him melt, and that includes tears. He's trying so hard to be a good person, he's trying so hard to be a good father, a good brother, a good friend. But it isn't working. He's still, though unintentionally, hurting people, and he feels so bad about it.

Schlatt - Ram hybrid. Brother to Puffy and Jordan (Sparklez). Schlatt is a smoker and an alcoholic, and a power hungry dictator. Or well, that's the persona he puts on. Schlatt, in reality (still /dsmp) genuinely does not give a fuck. He didn't care what happened, because he knew that people disliked him. He knew for a fact that he would be killed. This is why I believe he offed himself. He planned his stroke, or heart attack, the fandom doesn't seem to know which. He probably ingested some bad protein powder or poison or something, maybe he drank himself to death, maybe he OD'd and then drank, we don't know. But it seems unlikely that someone like him would let his body give out like that without a reason. Oh yeah, and he and Quackity were married at some point, but it was too short to really mean anything.

Ghlatt - Ghlatt, though still addicted to alcohol and various drugs, feels bad about being a bad person in his life. He thinks that it's a good thing he died, that the server benefited from his death, and that he shouldn't have become a ghost. He's right, of course, but I like to think that he's regained morality. Maybe now, in the afterlife, he can work on himself. Ghlatt isn't strong enough to take a physical form, so he borrows Ghostbur's occasionally.

Skeppy - Some sort of Diamond Ore man?? I think he's human. He and BBH have a thing. I don't think I've ever watched a Skeppy DreamSMP stream. Uhh Egg?? Egg. Badlands boys woo.

Eret - Herobrine is his cousin. Like. Yeah. That Herobrine. Anyways, they're a king, and they're more of an Awesomedude morally grey type character. Her only interest is survival, and I respect that. I haven't really paid much attention to him though. Their crown has bi flag colored gems on it :]

Jack Manifold - Jack Manifol! Jack Manifall~~ Jack Manifall.. off bridge!! Jack Manidrown :} OH SHIT- (i dont watch him)

Niki - Human. Wears Wilbur's old coat. Though she did go through a tough spot after Wilbur's death, she now runs a flower shop with Puffy. Dyes her hair often. I don't watch her either.

Quackity - Duck hybrid; wings were clipped upon his joining the server. His face scar was canonized :] Alex genuinely liked Schlatt, but realized he was being mistreated so he joined Pogtopia. He felt bad about it though. I don't have many headcanons for him to be honest.

Mexican Dream - ok am i the only one that wasn't into this arc?? i didn't even watch any of it. i saw him like once and was like "oh this is just a bit" and left wtf. was he important???

Karl Jacobs - Time Traveler man; human. Karl is slowly losing his memory due to his travel between timelines. The more he does it, the more he loses. I look forward to seeing this progress. Are he, Sapnap, and uhhh someone else actually engaged?? I like that headcanons :] I don't remember who the other person is though.

HBomb - Cat maid.

Technoblade - Piglin shifter. Techno is softer than he seems, and he genuinely enjoys the company of Ranboo and his friend Philza. Technoblade met Phil after saving him from wither skeletons in the Nether, making short visits to the Overworld until he built up an immunity. He likes the cold because it's the opposite of his terrible home dimension. Techno really did want to help Tommy, but their ideals clashed too much for it to work out. Very destructive anarchist. Though, he is pretty chill nowadays.

Antfrost - Cat shifter. So I lied, there are three. Uhh wizard!! I like that HC!! Wizard catboy go brrrr. In reality, I don't watch the Badland Boys often and I haven't seen any of the Egg plot so idk what's up with him lol. I like to think that before the Egg, he and Fundy were friends.

Philza - Wings were beat up during the explosion; he tried to protect Wilbur with them, but still ended up failing. He's the father to Wilbur and Tommy, with Techno being an old friend of his. He canonically really likes cobblestone. Phil tries his best to be the dad, but his morals are all over the place. Lately, he's unofficially adopted Ranboo, helping him with his uh. Issues.

Connor - Human in a Sonic onesie idk i dont watch him

Puffy - Sheep Hybrid. Sister to Schlatt and Jordan, mother to Dream. I really don't know tbh; she's everyone's adoptive mom. She's what Philza and Awesamdude wish they could be.

Vikkstar - Human. Has he?? Done anything?? Ever??

Lazarbeam - Isn't he a gingerbread man or something.

Ranboo - Half Enderman Half [REDACTED]. I dont have headcanons for him tbh I just accept his canon. May be related to XD?

Foolish Gamers - A literal god. He can revive people, but it takes one of his lives. Uhhh he's really good at building what.

Hannahxxrose - I don't watch her :[ I should though

Slimecicle - CHARLIE SLIMECICLE. Slime hybrid obviously. New to the server, very scared [/j] and confused. Doesn't know what's going on and that's ok because he's funny I like him

I got really tired of this towards the end oops

[mythrilhusk]

Our World - Chapter One

Technoblade-centric; obligatory Greek Pantheon/The Office AU, No shipping, Not RPF

2.4k words, slightly funny (maybe?), AO3 Link, 

Features ND/Schizophrenic!Technoblade  - (Written by myself, an actually schizophrenic/neurodivergent person... Neurotypicals/Non-psychotics should not attempt this.) 

CW: Intrusive thoughts/visions/urges, auditory hallucinations

Elysium's smallest company branch rests unobtrusively in the town Oneiros, buried in some backwoods county. Technoblade reads through the list of employees once more as his taxi weaves through a mountain pass. His equipment sits on the seat beside him, while the rest of his luggage bounces in the trunk. 

Elysium's CFO, some guy named Eret, hired Techno on the spot when he came to the interview. Seemed kinda desperate, but eh, so was Technoblade. 

H's not entirely sure why they would only hire one guy to do this job. Eh, work is work, and they sure pay well enough. They're providing an apartment, too. An actual roof over his head will be nice, for however long Techno can keep the job. He bets a week, tops. 

The narrow road crests over the top of the mountain, revealing the town beneath sprawling in the valley. The Elysium office building juts out of the south side of the town, an ugly block of concrete and glass. Technoblade wrinkles his nose in disdain, silently agreeing with chat as they mock the displeasing aesthetics.  

When his taxi pulls up into the parking lot, Technoblade piles his luggage and equipment on the sidewalk before paying the driver. He adds a tip, too, though he can barely afford even that much. The driver's pale cheeks stretch in a nervous smile as he clutches the money; he's too afraid to protest the miniscule tip. Techno doesn't make an effort to smile back, too busy ignoring visions featuring the bloody crunch of the man's neck between his thirsty teeth. 

The taxi peels away, leaving Technoblade alone in the chilly mountain air. With ringing ears and a heavy huff, Techno gathers his stuff and heads into the building. 

The receptionist plays on his phone, ignoring Technoblade even when he raps his knuckles atop the boy's shaggy brown hair. "Tubbo," He grunts, recalling the appearance from the employee list. 

Tubbo starts, staring up at Techno with wary intensity, like a tiger cub encountering a wild boar for the first time. Techno smiles wryly at the boy, who must still be younger than eighteen. Chat clamors for blood, urging him with the weight of his knife, but Technoblade doesn't entertain them. 

"Technoblade." Tubbo regains his composure and holds out a hand. "I'm so glad you're finally here, big man, we've been waiting." 

"Why the rush?" Technoblade snorts, ignoring the proffered handshake. Physical contact irritates him. 

Tubbo drops his hand. "We just really like documentaries about ourselves, yeah?" 

"K." It's not his place to question a gig, although chat goes wild with suspicion. "Where am I staying?" 

"Oh, right, you'll be staying with Philza. Heh, try not to piss him off. Or do, it'll be funny." Tubbo waves to the rest of the wide room. "Phil! Your roommate's here!" 

"Fuck off, mate, I told you bastards, I don't want a fucking roommate." Techno recognizes the man who speaks as the dude in charge of customer relations: Philza. His golden hair glints with hints of fire, setting off his blue eyes, as merciless as the stars. 

Chat froths, raging for blood, blood, blood, but Techno mentally bats them away. "K, welp, I was promised boardin' with this gig. I don't really care where; just get me a place to stay." Technoblade shrugs, baring his teeth in a smile that's just south of friendly. 

Philza smiles too, showing off his fangs. Tubbo holds up his hands, saying, "Woah, woah, here. Phil, it's your turn. It's not gonna last long, anyway." 

"Heh? Turn?" Technoblade chuffs, even as the cacophony that is chat hisses, technodead, technodead, lmao, RIP- Shut up, chat, we are not dead yet. 

Philza's grin widens maliciously. "Oh, did Eret not tell you?" 

"That dude told me the bare minimum, man, I dunno, I dunno what you expected." 

"You're not the first film crew he's hired," Tubbo says with a faux apologetic shrug. Before Technoblade can protest the use of crew to describe one man, Tubbo continues with the barest hint of a smirk. "But the other ones died, just like you will." 

Technodead, technodead, EEEEEE, RIP, RIP, F, EEE, lmaooo, F, rainbowchat- "Get outta here," Techno drawls, narrowing his eyes. Not for the first time, he wishes chat had a physical embodiment he could punt. "Technoblade never dies." 

"We'll see," Philza muses, his eyes twinkling with the apathetic amusement of an ancient god toying with mortals. Hazing, that's all this is. Phil hands Technoblade a business card. "Don't be late." 

Techno scans the card, appreciating the flaming torch insignia etched into the bronze-inked paper. Ares, god of war... Chat hisses the allusion, seeming in awe of this man who has taken a god's symbol. Techno flips it over to find the address, and then raises an eyebrow at Phil. "What time?" 

Philza picks up a stack of papers from the massive copy-printer and strides back to his desk. "Before evenfall." 

Welp, that's that interaction over with. Technoblade notes how all the other office workers are studiously ignoring him. He turns to Tubbo. "Where's the boss?" 

Tubbo puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Are you, are you going to complain to our manager, mister?" 

"Yeah," Technoblade plays along. "I'm giving you a three star review." 

"Oh, that's not bad." 

"Out of ten." 

Tubbo's visage darkens, and Techno gets an uneasy feeling like a hurricane is about to hit. The feeling passes, though, as Tubbo pouts. "I deserve more than that, man! Give me six stars, at least!" 

"Tell ya what, if you show me where the regional manager's office is, I'll raise my review to seven stars." 

"Done!" Tubbo cries, and points to an inconspicuous pair of doors on the other end of the room. "One leads to Manager Puffy, the other leads to Manager Schlatt. Choose wisely, good sir." 

Techno hums approvingly, then draws out his pad of stickers from his coat pocket. Tubbo's eyes widen and he gasps, bouncing excitedly as Techno sticks a sparkly gold star to his forehead. "Good work, nerd." 

Tubbo just stammers, plopping back into his chair with a blissful expression. Heh. Stickers work every time. Chat begs for stickers of their own, beg to be called nerds, beg for even a little taste of blood, but they don't deserve any rewards after being so bad all day. 

Techno strides over to the managers' office doors. Each has a whiteboard on the front, with various scribbles over them. One has a fluffy sheep, and says in swirly script, //The captain is IN//. The other has various dicks doodled on it, and the only word written is, //Candice//. Chat breaks down in immature giggles. Technoblade opts for the former. 

He knocks politely. A woman's voice replies, "Enter." 

Opening the door, Technoblade scans the room. There's a full bookshelf covering one wall, and a low bureau across the opposite. A bay window sheds light across the manager's desk, tinted by the grey-green curtains. 

A woman rises from her chair, her expression hidden by the sunlight behind her. Her waves of hair-- half brown and half silver-- sparkle with the dewdrop diamonds haphazardly woven in. 

"District Manager Puffy?" Technoblade bobs his head to her. 

"Call me Captain Puffy," Puffy replies, and her teeth glint in a wild smile as she tosses her head. "You're the new film crew Eret hired?" 

"Uhh, apparently." Technoblade appreciates that she doesn't hold out her hand to greet him. "He never specified what kind of film he wanted, though, so-" 

"Don't worry about that," Puffy tuts, "I'll give you instructions when you're settled in." 

"K." Technoblade can respect this kind of person. Chat has been subdued and pouting for the past few minutes by his refusal to give them any sort of attention. He takes mercy on them and stares at the model ships on the bureau, letting them coo over the complexity and aesthetic. 

"Uh, Mister Blade?" Puffy's voice intrudes on his appreciation of the ships. 

"Just Techno is fine." Techno refuses to look away from the ships, since they're keeping chat happy for the moment. 

"You'll be assigned a desk tomorrow, and you'll be given tasks around the office to, to acclimate and get to know your coworkers. Later, you can start filming random candid moments. We want a sort of documentary detailing our office lifestyle." Puffy hands a paper flyer to Techno. 

Glancing through it, Techno frowns. "What exactly does Elysium sell?" 

"We need a better PR team, which is why we've hired you. Elysium strives for the betterment of lives and the strengthening of minds." Puffy completely fails to answer the question. Chat calls her a sussy baahka, and Techno shoots a pointed glare at the bookshelves. He's definitely not giving chat any stickers tonight. 

Puffy seems ready to dismiss him, so Techno bobs his head once more to her and opens the door. A strange noise, like the crashing of waves against a rocky shore, resonates through the air, halting him. Her eyes snap wide, glittering with something cold and unforgiving, yet somehow comforting and protective. "Pray to your god for mercy and it shall be given." 

Technoblade chuckles, smothering the fire lit behind his eyes. "I'm kinda an atheist, Brizo; if there are any gods out there, they'll be begging me for mercy." He realizes too late that his extensive knowledge of the ancient Greek religion has escaped his tongue. Chat screams with excitement as they put together the allusions to the referenced spirit, Brizo, patron of sailors and prophecy. What a bunch of nerds. 

Captain Puffy stares at him, her smile twinkling: sun rays piercing through storm clouds. "Of course, Hades." 

Technoblade smiles back at the retort-- he's always been partial to the god of wealth-- and he bobs his head in deference to her once more. Any fellow partaker of old stories easily gets put in his good book. Puffy bows back, and Technoblade takes that as his cue to leave. He closes the door behind him.  

Spotting the break room, Techno makes his way towards it, weaving through the desks. He pulls out his last, wrinkly dollar and slips it into the vending machine, then selects one of the bags of cookies. Sitting down with it, he inspects the coworker who's followed him in. "Tommy, right?" 

The youth-- the sole employee in HR-- scowls, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing with scorn. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Technoblade??" 

"Heh?" The teen's aggressive tone sets him on edge: hands itching and teeth aching and eyes burning for blood, blood, blood- no. No more of that. "Tommy, I just, I just got here? What are you upset at me for?" 

"I'm just askin', Techno. Who do you think you are?" Tommy juts his chin out challengingly. "There can only be one boss man here." 

"You wanna be the boss?" Technoblade rips open the bag of cookies. 

"Well, obviously." 

"Best me in single combat and we'll see." Technoblade is only jesting, of course. Even if the kid agreed to the fight, it would be unfair. 

"Yes! Meet me in the parking lot in thirty minutes, idiot, and I'll fuckin' wipe the pavement with your ugly face!!" Tommy whoops and skips out of the break room before Techno can explain he was only joking. 

Great. He's going to be fired for challenging a coworker to a fight, now. This will officially become the shortest job he's ever held, beating his last record by three hours. Technoblade munches his cookies and refuses to listen to chat as they bully him for making such a mess of his last chance. 

When he's finished his cookies, Technoblade goes down to the parking lot, figuring that if he's going to be fired, he'd better do it in style. 

Tommy waits for him, the breeze whipping through his blond hair. "No weapons, no magic, just me an' you, Technoblade." 

"K." Technoblade shrugs, not seeing any point to telling the teen that magic doesn't actually exist. It was probably a sort of ironic joke, anyway. 

Tubbo stands on the sidewalk, cheering for Tommy. Another teen leans on the wall behind Tubbo, seeming paler than should really be healthy, with a mop of black hair covering their ears. 

"En garde!" Tommy cries and leaps to punch Techno.

Swaying to avoid the blow, Techno jabs Tommy in the gut with his knuckles. The youth staggers back, face distorted in pain. Technoblade remains relaxed, raising his hands. "Feel free to back out any time." 

"Fuck you!" Tommy roars and charges, fists flailing. The picture of waves recklessly dashing themselves against an implacable cliff comes to mind. 

Technoblade deflects the first fist and takes the wrist of the followup, twisting his arm behind his back. Tommy shrieks in rage and attempts to rip his arm away. Techno releases him and steps forward. "Sorry, but you ain't winnin' this." 

"I will fucking end you!" Tommy once more flies into the fray. 

Technoblade decides to go slightly harder on him. He sends Tommy stumbling with a single smack to his shoulder. When Tommy tries to flail fists at him again, Techno trips the boy. Tommy's back slams into the pavement, air whoofing out of his lungs. 

"Y-you fuckin'-" Tommy wheezes for air. "I will not lose to you-" 

"Looks like it's too late for that," Technoblade chuffs, watching the boy as he struggles to his feet. 

Tommy sneers at him. "I, I'm feeling fuckin' merciful today. I won't kill you this time." 

"I suppose I can return the favor." Technoblade smirks. He turns his back on Tommy to rub in how little of a threat the teen is. Not that Tommy will understand the gesture, but it boosts Techno's ego and makes chat jeer. 

Tubbo and the other youth, a sales rep by the name of Ranboo, stride over. "That was sick!" Ranboo cries, eyes aflame with hero-worship as he stares at Technoblade. 

Tubbo smiles implacably as he pulls Tommy to his feet. "Win next time, big guy. I lost five dollars to Ranboo on that." 

"Fuck you, Ranboo," Tommy snarls, clinging to Tubbo's arm even as he's standing. "Bet on me, next time!" 

"But you lost! I think that's pretty funny." Ranboo glances back up at the windows of the office. Several pairs of eyes seem to be peering down. Great. An audience to Technoblade's last few moments of employment. 

Tommy grumbles as he storms to the doors, "I'll fucking beat you next time, Techno, see if I don't!" 

The phrasing seems odd, in that it implies Technoblade isn't about to be fired for beating up his teenage coworker. 

[arrow-guy]

Sister Winter (11/??)

Summary: Keeping secrets only hurts those closest to you, but sometimes the blunt truth hurts more than you’d ever imagine. What happens when you can’t differentiate between the two?

A/N: Hello, we return to this fic with More Characters Than Before and even more drama! Things are really getting started with everyone starting to show up lmao. Hope you guys enjoy this new chapter!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: ClintxReader

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part 10

I startle when I catch Fury out of the corner of my eye. I shiver and shove my hands into my pockets.

I turn my head slightly and nod to him in acknowledgment. “Director.”

“I’m surprised you’re not out there waiting for them,” Fury says. “You look like you’re ready to jump outta your skin.”

“I’ve only spoken with Natasha very briefly and read about the others.” I pause, my brows furrowing. “And I…”

“You’re worried about the whole blue thing.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Why haven’t you gone back to your little magic trick yet?”

“Clint already knows and accepts me as I am. Now that you know too, there’s no point in using a disguise.”

"Hm." He folds his arms. "You should go out to meet them anyway. We're taking off as soon as the Captain shows up. We don't need to lose any new recruits before we get a chance to debrief them."

“I’ll go now.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he says.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind doin’ your little magic trick when the Captain arrives?” he asks. “It’ll help me win a bet.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up into a small smile. “Is that all I’m useful for, Director?”

He snorts. “No, but it sure as hell is handy.”

I chuckle. “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

"You'll need this," he says. I hold out my hand and he drops an earpiece into it. "We'll keep in contact from up here."

"Of course." I position the earpiece and turn it on.

He jerks his chin at me. “Get going. Agent Romanoff should be preparing to land.”

I nod once. "Yes, sir."

"That's her quin, right there." An agent points to the incoming aircraft. "She should be the first one down the ramp."

I nod and shield my eyes against the sun, watching as the quinjet descends. My hair whips around in the wind kicked up by the jet, and I try to keep it out of my eyes as best I can as I move closer.

The ramp lowers and a woman with a shock of red hair appears and immediately walks towards me. She stops short and tilts her head to the side.

“(Y/N)?”

I nod. “Natasha?”

“Yes,” she says. “You’re more… blue than I expected.”

I laugh. “I don’t have to be blue, but it’s just my natural state.”

“Does Clint know?”

“Yes. He actually prefers me like this, believe it or not.”

The corner of her mouth twitches up in an almost smile. “I do, actually. He’s got a knack for pushing people to be themselves.”

“Yes,” I say. “He certainly does.”

She looks me over, silently regarding me. I try not to shrink under her gaze, but she's far more intense than anything Clint told me could've prepared me for.

"You look like you could use a hug," she finally says.

"What?"

"You look like hell. Like you need some comfort." She glances around and takes a step closer. "I'm going to assume that Clint was the only person you're close enough to to go to for emotional or physical comfort."

"I don't know if I like how exposed I feel right now," I joke.

She shakes her head. "I'm not trying to expose you. I just want to suss out what's going through your head. Understand you better."

Slightly confused, I say, “I appreciate that.”

My earpiece crackles to life and I press my finger to my ear. “Coulson’s headed in. Wheels down in five.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve got about five minutes before Coulson lands.” I glance behind her. “I suppose meeting the Doctor will have to wait.”

“He’s just a bit timid.”

“I understand. I hope he’ll be fine on the helicarrier.” I fold my arms. “I mean, Fury’s taken precautions, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll be any more comfortable.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she says. She places her hand on my arm. “How are you holding up?”

“You asked me that yesterday.”

“And answers change.” Her eyes bore into mine. “How are you actually?”

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m worried. I don’t know what Loki’s doing. I don’t know what he’s doing with Clint and Selvig. I don’t know if Clint’s even still in there.”

“You care about him a lot.”

“Yes. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get him back.” I place my hand on her shoulder. “How are you, though, Natasha?”

She sighs. “I’ll be better once we fix this. That’s all I’ll say.”

I nod and manage a small smile. “Fair enough.” I press my lips together. “Do you want a hug?”

She glances around before she leans in, tightly gripping my arm, and whispers, “If anyone sees or hears about this, I will kill you.”

I bite back my laughter. “That’d be harder than you’d expect, but okay.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch her mouth turning up into a small as she wraps her arms around my shoulders. I circle my arms around her middle and hug her just as tightly as he hugs me. She sighs against my shoulder and pushes me away abruptly.

“That’s enough,” she says.

Wind whips up around us and I glance up to find the quinjet we were waiting on preparing to land. When I look back at Natasha, she won’t meet my eyes. “Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t mention it.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

I roll my neck and set my enchantments in place. The cerulean takes on a more natural, human color. I sigh and smooth my hands over my hair.

“Showtime,” I mutter. I catch Natasha staring. “What? Are my eyes still red?”

“No, Definitely not.” She scowls. She gestures to my body and asks, “How?”

“Magic.”

She shakes her head and walks towards the quinjet. “I don’t even want to know.”

I shrug and follow after her. “She’ll get curious eventually.”

“We’ll introduce the Captain to Doctor Banner once we talk to Coulson. Fury contacted me earlier, said they needed him inside asap.”

“Alright.”

As we approach, the ramp lowers revealing Agent Coulson with a tall, blond man at his side. He nods to both of us and introduces Natasha before he looks at me, confused.

“I thought you weren’t doing the whole-” he wiggles his fingers at me. “-thing anymore.”

“I thought this would be less jarring for people who I’ve never met before,” I explain. “Would you prefer that I stop?”

“Yes,” Natasha and Phil say in unison.

The Captain looks confused, but his confusion quickly gives way to shock as I allow the enchantments to slip away.

“You’re blue,” Rogers says without thinking.

“I am.”

Natasha cuts in, saying, “Coulson, they need you on the bridge. They’re starting the face trace.”

Phil nods. “I’ll see you there.”

He slips between Natasha and Rogers and quickly makes his way across the landing strip. I watch him go and turn slightly towards Natasha.

“I’ll go with him,” I say softly.

“Why?” she asks.

“I’m not sure I’m the kind of welcoming party Doctor Banner is expecting. It’d be better if he had some warning.”

She nods. “Probably safer that way.”

“As soon as you’ve got Banner, you should get inside. We’re taking off in a couple minutes.”

“Right.”

I look back at the Captain and offer him a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Captain. I’ll see the three of you inside.”

He nods hesitantly and I head back to the bridge. I heave a sigh of relief as soon as I’m back inside. I take my place just behind Fury on the bridge and wait for instruction.

“How’d it go?” Fury asks.

I shake my head. “He was a little shocked.”

“A little?” He raises an eyebrow. “That all?”

“I’ve barely met the man. I don’t know him well enough to predict what he’s thinking about.”

He tuts and takes his head. “I’m sure everything went fine.”

I roll my eyes. Coulson hands me a tablet and points out specific camera feeds. I take the tablet and examine them more closely.

“You’ve spotted Loki?” I ask.

“We think so, but his appearance changes each time. I figure you’d be the best person to spot anything recognizable.”

I nod. “I’ll do my best.” I tuck the tablet against my chest. “Any word on Clint?”

“Nothing new. Agent Romanoff will be working with the surveillance team to track him down.” He pats my shoulder. “We’ll get him back, don’t worry.”

“I know we will. I’m more worried about what he’s being forced to do. Loki will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. He doesn’t care who he endangers along the way.”

“I can only hope we’ll be able to stop him before he gets too far.”

“I know.” I glance up momentarily and catch Captain Rogers handing Fury a ten-dollar bill. I laugh. “Guess Fury’s little prank worked.”

“Prank?”

”He said something about making a bet. Asked me to skew the odds in his favor.”

Coulson smiles. “Sounds like something he’d do.”

Fury speaks with Doctor Banner. Banner asks something about the search for the tesseract and Fury gestures for a status update.

“We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet,” Coulson says. “Cell phones, laptops… if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

“Still not gonna find him in time,” Natasha says.

Banner takes in everything they say. “You have to narrow your field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?”

“How many are there?” Fury asks.

“Call every lab you know. Tell ‘em to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays.” Banner takes his jacket off and rolls his sleeves up. “I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places.” He glances around. “Do you have somewhere for me to work?”

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury gestures to Doctor banner. “Could you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?”

Natasha rises from the monitor she’s squatting in front of and walks up to Banner. “You’re gonna love it, Doc,” she says. “We got all the toys.”

It takes several hours to even get an approximate match for Loki on any camera. At the smallest glimpse of his hair, I clasp Agent Sitwell’s shoulder.

“There,” I point at the monitor. “That one.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The monitor beside him chimes, notifying us of a match. It’s the same feed as I had indicated a moment ago.

“Sixty-seven percent,” I shake my head. “It’s absolutely him.”

Sitwell turns and lets Phil know. “We got a hit.”

“Wait,” I smack his arm. “Check again.”

“You’re right.” He shakes his head. “Crossmatch, seventy-nine percent. It has to be him.”

Coulson appears beside me. “Location?”

“Stuttgart, Germany. Twenty-eight Konigstrasse.” He pulls up several images. “He’s not exactly hiding.”

“He wants us to find him,” I say.

“Captain,” Fury says. “You’re up.”

Captain Rogers nods and follows Coulson down the hall. I move across the floor to speak with him.

“I want to go with them,” I say.

“No.”

“You seriously won’t allow me to bring my own brother in?”

“Yes. Seriously. You don’t need to be in the line of fire.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’ll stay in the jet with Natasha. I won’t be in the line of fire.”

“You’ll stay in the jet?”

“Yes.”

He scowls. “Fine. You can go with them.”

“Thank you-”

“But you stay away from that spear,” he says. “I don’t need to lose another agent to your psychopath twin.”

“He won’t get to me.” I pause. “Did you just call me an agent?”

“I might’ve.”

“Alright.”

“You better go find Agent Romanoff. Don’t want her to leave without you.”

I nod leave the bridge. I run into Natasha along the way and follow her out to the jet. Captain Rogers is hot on our heels, dressed in a vibrant blue, red, and white suit. Coulson said something about having a hand in the Captain’s new uniform and I hadn’t put much thought into it until now. The colors are a bit nauseating.

Captain Rogers settles into the seat across from me in the jet and we lapse into an uncomfortable silence as Natasha and another agent take the controls.

“So,” Rogers says. “What’s your connection to all of this?”

“Loki is my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes. My twin, actually.”

“But he’s...”

“Not blue?” He nods. “Very astute. I’m sure you’ll notice that we’re not identical twins either.”

“That’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s controlling the people I care about. I want to stop him and take him home to face judgment.”

“Where is home?”

“Asgard.” His eyes widen. “I’m sure it’s clear that I’m not exactly from Earth, Captain.”

“Call me Steve,” he says.

“Alright.” I pause. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. We were never formally introduced.”

He shoots me a small smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

I nod and he doesn’t say anything else. I cross my arms, put my head back, and doze until we reach our destination. I wake when Natasha says we’ve arrived and I move to join her near the cockpit.

“Looks like he’s giving a speech,” she says.

I shake my head. “Of course he is. He really seems to enjoy the sound of his own voice these days.”

“What’s the plan?” Steve asks.

“Don’t let him get to you,” I say. “He’s persuasive and he’ll distract you if he can. If he can distract you, you’re in trouble.”

“Anything else?”

“He’ll fight dirty. Protect your stomach and your legs.”

“How dirty are we talking?”

“He has an affinity for knives.”

“Jeez.”

Natasha lowers the ramp. “Remember to have fun,” she says.

I move up to the cockpit with Natasha as Steve drops down into the middle of the crowd and deflects a blast from Loki. Natasha lowers the quinjets weapons system and points it directly at my brother.

“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down,” she commands.

I shake my head and sit back and watch as a fight between Steve and Loki breaks out. Natasha mutters something about not being able to get a good shot when someone overrides the communications system.

“Agent Romanoff,” they say. “You miss me?”

Music blares through the loudspeaker and she shook her head. A figure in a suit of armor swoops in and easily lays Loki out with one blast.

“So this is Stark?” I ask.

“The one and only,” Natasha mutters.

“Huh,” I watch as Loki surrenders and Stark lowers his heavily armed hands. “Impressive.”

“That’s one way to describe him.”

We land briefly and I help the agent on board restrain Loki and bundle him onto the quinjet. Steve and Stark join us on the jet.

“You’re a traitor,” Loki hisses.

“Shut up.”

“Rather bold, aren’t we, sister?”

“I’m not doing this with you, Loki.” I tighten the straps around his shoulders. “I have no energy to humor you anymore.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you wound me.” He grins manically and I push his face away as I stand and join Stark and Rogers near the cockpit.

“I don’t like it,” Steve says.

“What?” Stark asks. “Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

“I don’t remember it being that easy,” Steve mutters.

“No,” I interject. “He was going easy on you.”

“And you know this… how?” Stark asks.

“He’s my brother.”

“But you’re blue.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m blue, he’s pale as fresh snow. Am I seriously going to have this conversation with every newcomer?”

Steve shakes his head. “Still, this guy packs a wallop.”

I take a seat across from Loki and tune out their bickering. A crash of thunder startles me out of my thoughts. When a lightning flash lights up the quinjet Loki and I look at each other with wide eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Steve asks. “Scared of a little lightning.”

“It’s not the lightning that scares him,” I say, careful to keep my voice steady.

Loki squints at me. “I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

Something lands on the jet, shaking all of us around. Stark immediately puts on his helmet and lowers the ramp, much to Rogers’ protests. I jump up when Thor lands in the jet. He doesn’t see me. Instead, he knocks Stark back just as he’s about to fire at him and grabs Loki out of his seat by the neck. Before I can say anything, they’re gone. I look around at everyone in the jet and Stark is already on his way out to follow Thor. Steve moves to grab a parachute and I just shake my head.

“I’d sit this one out, Cap,” Natasha calls.

“I don’t see how I can,” he says.

“These guys come from legend. They’re basically gods.”

“She’s right,” I add. “You don’t know their power, and you nearly got your ass handed to you by Loki. I don’t think you can manage both of my brothers at once.”

“Both brothers?” Steve asks.

“Yes, both brothers.”

“Great,” he mutters. “This is just wonderful.”

“If you’re determined to go-” I sigh and grab a parachute. “Then I’m going with you. I’m at least strong enough to hold one or both of them back.”

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Natasha says. “You know how dangerous they are.”

“I will. Tell Fury to hide Jane Foster. If Thor’s here, Loki’s people may try to hurt her to get to him.”

“Will do. You two get down there and stop them.”

I look to Steve and he nods before jumping out of the quinjet. I follow his lead and we freefall for a while before deploying our chutes and gliding down over the treetops. We follow the trail of felled trees and sparks down to find Thor and Stark fighting one another. I yank my chute from my shoulders as soon as my feet hit the ground and move through several broken off trees to get to Thor, but I’m too late.

Steve has already engaged him, telling him to put his hammer down. Thor refuses and takes a swing at Stark, swinging him back through several trees.

I shake my head and step between Thor and Steve. “Stop.”

Thor looks between me and Steve, unsure of what to do. He shifts slightly towards me, and I see Steve move out of the corner of my eye. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I make a cutting motion outwards, and immensely cold energy travels down my arms and through my hands. Both men freeze in place and stare at me, surprise and fear etched into their features. All around me on the ground is a thick layer of sharp, spiked ice. My eyes go wide when I see what I’ve done and I have to school my face into calm indifference.

“I said stop. All of you.” I look very pointedly at Thor. “We’re all on the same side. Fighting isn’t going to change a fucking thing about this situation.”

Thor nods. “I’m sorry, sister.”

I shake my head. “Go get Loki. We’re leaving and both of you are coming with us.”

Thor summons his hammer and takes off to gather up Loki. I carefully pick my way out of my little field of ice and wander off to find Stark. I pull him to his feet and lead him back to Steve while I signal for Natasha to bring the jet around.

“This is just the beginning of things, isn’t it?” Steve asks.

I nod. “I’m afraid it is, Captain. And it’s not going to get any easier from here.”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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[itsmyusualphannie]

something wrong in the village

Chapter 3/5: leviticus Beta: @candanandphilnot Rating: T Warnings: Transphobia Read on ao3

Summary: Fiona Lester has a secret. Dan Howell thinks they hate each other. Dan meets an online friend and comes to realize something important about himself while juggling a changing relationship with his parents, friends, and Fiona.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

"Daniel!" bellowed Dan's mum, the morning after the end of the festival and, really, too early for anyone to be speaking. "Ten minutes, let's go!"

He didn't move from his slumped position before his laptop, fingers rapid over his keyboard as he thudded out replies on the chat feature in the 'FRIENDS' website. He had made two other matches in the past week, but had ignored them both and hadn't been bothered when he didn't receive a message either. Dan didn't think anyone could measure up to his current conversational partner.

No it's definitely a sock monster! read Phil's most recent insistent message.

you just don't want to admit that you lose your socks, tapped Dan immediately. His fingers hovered impatiently as he waited for a reply, which took less than ten seconds to pop up.

listen, the message read, and Dan could almost hear a stern, disembodied voice informing him of this, my mismatched socks are an aesthetic choice. No judging!

i'm judging, Dan replied. He wasn't particularly judging, really, but it was so fun to rile up Phil - and so easy, too. Dan lost his socks too, just not as often as Phil apparently did. Evidently, it was almost a daily occurrence with him.

A brief, intrusive thought informed Dan that he knew people in real life who lost socks, too. At the festival yesterday, Fiona had been wearing sneakers with brightly patterned mismatched socks. Not that he had been looking at her feet. That would be weird.

:(  was his reply from Phil. There was a pause, and then another message popped up.

come on, you have to have weird habits too. not that wearing different socks is WEIRD. haha. tell me your secrets

Dan snorted hard through his nose, and regretted it when it stung. He swiped at the burn and then typed out, i have no secreets? I am the most well behaved guy you'll ever meet. The instant the message sent, his fingers spasmed with the sudden desire to take it back. Because, you'll ever meet was an accident. Dan had known Phil for three weeks, and he certainly felt like he knew the other boy far better than any of his other friends, but something squirmed inside Dan whenever he entertained the idea of meeting this faceless friend. What if Phil was just some old fifty-year-old woman getting her kicks by chatting with a teenager?

Well, Dan doubted that. Phil's knowledge of TV shows and video games was perfectly age-appropriate for a 17-year-old boy. According to the website, he lived within 50 miles of Dan as well, so there was still that tiny chance that Phil even went to the same school as Dan.

Dan, maybe, had thought about that, and had wracked his memory for any 'Phil's at his school, but had come up with nothing. It had been a far stretch, anyway. There was just that small part of Dan that desperately wished for an actual, real-life friend that he could talk to, and share inside jokes with, and laugh about ridiculous jokes, and play video games, and watch movies. He did that with his group of friends, sometimes, but it wasn't like Dan had always thought about when he imagined having a best friend.

That's what he wanted, really. A best friend. And wasn't that who Phil was shaping up to be? They already got along so well...but that could change if Phil actually met Dan. He might realize then, that Dan was the weird, friendless type of loser that actually signed up for a friend-matching website. Well, Phil had done that, too. Dan had a feeling that it was more because Phil was bored, though, and not for any ironic sort of reason.

"Dan, I swear to god!"

The yell from his mum broke Dan from his thoughts, and he jolted his concentration back to his laptop, where two messages were waiting from Phil.

no secrets, sure, read the first message, and then, i still don't know your name lmao.

Yeah, Dan realized. He'd typed 'Bear' as his username those few weeks ago. Phil clearly knew that it wasn't his actual name. Phil didn't know that it was a cheesy nickname his parents used to call him. Potential best mates had to know real names though, right?

With that hesitant thought encroaching upon him, Dan quickly hit out an answer and then sent it. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack and shoes, and left to grab breakfast and head to school. The laptop, left open in his haste, still revealed the last message he had sent.

my name's dan

~~~

Dan hadn’t seen Fiona all day.

It’s not that he was looking for her. Dan had no reason, none at all, to actively search her out. He wasn’t interested in what she was doing. Well, he amended to himself, it was good to keep tabs on his mortal enemy. So perhaps it was a bit concerning that he hadn’t seen her all day.

It wasn’t that unusual. They only had two classes together, both of which were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was only Monday, so it wasn’t impossible that Dan would not catch sight of Fiona the entire school day. It was just...it was Monday, and she had been acting strangely at the festival yesterday, and it was probably because of Dan’s lingering headache that thumped in quiet tune to the drums from the Muse concert, but he almost wanted to seek her out.

It was foolish, of course. One shared moment at a music festival, still riddled with insults and clear distaste for each other, was nothing that could erase the years of mutual spite for each other. It was just odd. Dan may have been just a bit intrigued to find out why she had been acting the way she was. Just a bit, though.

“Danny boy!” bellowed a voice down the hallway. It was milling with students slowly collecting their day’s items from their lockers as they chatted. Dan himself was standing in front of his open locker, staring bleakly inside as he pondered the Fiona conundrum. He let his gaze drift slowly toward the mutilated call of his name, eyes bleak. He knew who it was.

The boy jogged up to him a moment later, a grin spread wide on his face. “Mate,” he said, “you gotta come fuckin’ see this.”

Dan didn’t particularly want to come fucking see anything, but he reluctantly shut the door to his locker and followed his friend anyway. ‘Friend’ was a loose definition of their relationship, but Dan didn’t have anyone much closer than his small horde of acquaintances, so he took what he could. This boy just rubbed Dan the wrong way sometimes. He was Australian, which wouldn’t mean much other than the twang of his accent, but he also liked to loudly introduce himself as ‘Sam the surfer!’ to everyone he met as if the fact that he could belly flop on a piece of styrofoam in water had earned him some sort of official title. As he couldn’t exactly ride any waves around town, he rode wheels instead, throwing himself with fervour down pavements and the occasional hallway on his favourite skateboard. He’d been adopted into Dan’s friend group when he’d almost run over Dr Pentland. That, at least, Dan could admit was funny. He’d seen the principal’s shocked face as she’d reeled backwards from the boy zipping past. Although it had morphed into irritation a moment later, the look had been priceless. Dan had snapped a picture of it. That single photo had earned his place in the friend group as well.

“You’re gonna love it,” Sam assured Dan as he trotted down the hall, waving Dan on impatiently. “The rest of the boys are already there. It’s bril.”

Dan hefted his backpack further up his shoulder and followed. Sam ducked around the corner and then into the bathroom. A girl squeezed past Dan to make her way into the bathroom as well, so Dan paused for a moment to let her through.

The school was definitely saving money on this bathroom. They’d slapped a unisex sign on it last year and shut down the other bathroom, claiming diversity for all genders. While Dan thought it was a great idea, he also thought it was bullshit. They could have very well made both bathrooms unisex, but had downsized instead. Now students were more cramped and the bathroom smelled even more like piss than usual.

“Oh, here,” said Sam as soon as Dan ducked into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. He thrust a slender object into Dan’s hand, then turned back toward the group of boys huddled around the corner of the room next to the line of sinks. Another boy was washing his hands next to them, but he just cast a curious glance over at the crowded corner and then left. The girl who Dan had followed inside slipped into a stall, the door creaking ominously as she latched it shut.

Dan only realized that the object in his hands was an uncapped marker when he made his way over to the corner and glanced over the shoulders of his friends. They were talking amongst themselves, but quietly and full of mirth.

“Hey, Danny boy, gimme a hand,” one of the boys called over his shoulder, and a few stepped aside for Dan to step through. He did so, but almost reluctantly.

It was then that he found what they were so focused on. Someone, certainly not one of the boys here now, had drawn a delicate, flowing transgender pride flag. The pink and blue colours were bold and bright, striking against the faded grey chalk tiles.

The boys, uncapped markers obvious in their hands, had drawn crude depictions of genitalia and scrawled slurs around it, but the largest defiant symbol was a massive circle drawn around the stolid flag and a slash drawn across that, clearly defining the group’s feelings about the matter.

“Bril, innit?” Sam chirped.

Dan’s throat hurt suddenly, for some reason he couldn’t identify. His headache, just background noise all day, came to the front of his brain with full force. He didn’t say anything.

“Come on, you’re an artist, right?” urged the boy in front. “I figured you’d have something great to draw. Like tits or summat, I dunno.”

Dan’s limbs were lead weights at his side, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth. He couldn’t - wouldn’t do anything.

The latches to one of the stalls on the far side of the bathroom clicked, and like an encroaching train wreck, Dan’s gaze followed the noise. The door swung open and out stepped Fiona, hair loose and swinging around her shoulders as she did up her trousers. She glanced his way, clear blue gaze meeting his, and wrinkles sank deep around her eyes as she smiled deeply at him.

It was terrible. It was beautiful. It was nothing Dan had ever seen directed at him.

“Hey, Dan,” she greeted. His mind sank like a stone, diving deep into murky waters. He had no idea what was going on. He couldn’t even say “Hey” back to her.

Fiona didn’t seem to care, crossing the room in a few steps to thrust her hands under the tap and briefly scrub them. Dan felt a horrific rush of relief when she looked away from him. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked over her shoulder, reaching for the paper towel dispenser. It whirred, spitting out a short, ineffectual leaflet that she used to swipe at her fingers.

Dan did not reply, but Fiona didn’t seem to notice. She sidled up behind the group of boys, most of whom were utterly ignoring her presence, and simply peered over their shoulders to see what was drawing their undivided attention. Her height was more than an advantage here.

“Ah.”

Dan could only watch helplessly as her expression slipped from something beyond open, the first time Dan had ever seen such a light in her eyes, to a look that Dan could never hope to decipher. He had never seen this new expression on her face either, but it was so much worse than the previous. Her gaze turned back to him, searching his face for a moment, and then it fell to the marker still clenched unfeelingly in his hands. When she looked back into Dan’s eyes, it was with a level, clear stare of pure disdain.

“Right. Hope you have fun, then.” She turned on her heel and left, tossing the wadded paper towel in her hand at the trash bin by the door. It arched through the air and bounced off the rim, landing on the scuffed floor without a sound, but Fiona didn’t stop to pick it up, and she didn’t glance back at Dan once.

Dan had been motionless throughout this entire process, but it was now that he could feel the bile churning in his guts. His mouth reflected it, tasting bitter as he swallowed thickly. Some distant part of him acknowledged his own actions and repressed emotions with a mocking laugh. He didn't know if it was worse or better that he hadn’t said a word through this entire encounter.

“Come on, Dan,” pressed Sam, brilliantly oblivious.

Dan dropped the uncapped marker in his hand. It landed unevenly and skidded across the floor, rolling to a stop against the bottom of the mutilated wall.

“I have to go,” was all Dan could manage.

He left.

~~~

Dan drank three full glasses of water, one after the other, as soon as he arrived home, but the dry taste in his mouth and the nausea brewing in his stomach didn’t go away. The glass clinked dully against another cup as he set it into the sink, bracing himself against the counter with both palms pressed flat against the marble. He didn’t want to understand why he felt this way, but he did. He understood too well.

This was the same all-encompassing self-disgust and hatred that had rushed over him the first time he’d heard the word ‘gay’ and realized it might apply to him. Now it was the other way around, though. That tiny symbol of pride, so stout and enduring in the “progressive” unisex bathroom, now stamped out so cruelly by the whims of sixteen- and seventeen-year-old boys who thought nothing of mocking the acknowledgement of someone’s identity. It didn’t mean anything to them. It meant everything to someone, maybe more than just one someone, in that school. And Dan hadn’t done anything to stop it.

The look on Fiona’s face had somehow made it worse. As if she, Dan’s self-proclaimed mortal enemy, had somehow seen something so disgusting in Dan that she wouldn’t even bother to fight back against him. She’d left. She’d given up.

She’d never, not once since Dan had known her, done that before.

“Hey, Dan!” called a voice from the living room. Dan had gone through the side door of the house when he’d gotten home, so he jumped as he realized his dad had been here the entire time.

He didn’t move from the counter. “Yeah?” he called back, almost reluctant. He didn’t want to move, a deep part of him wanting to just lie down for a while and not think about anything.

“Come here for a sec?”

Dan sighed and dragged his hands from the counter. The marble had been cold against his palms, almost grounding, and the warm air felt sticky against them now. He trudged to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and leaned against it. His dad was sitting on the couch in front of the television set, a binder and various envelopes spread on the cushions around him and the coffee table before him. “Yeah?”

His dad spared him a quick glance, but then went back to frowning at the stack of paper he held in one hand. “You, uh…ah! Right. We’re going to a wedding next Sunday, don’t forget.”

“A wedding?” Dan repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, my work buddy is getting married - finally - and he invited all of us. Do you have a suit to wear? It’s a semi-formal event.”

Dan just shrugged. “Guess so.” He paused, still feeling that churning deep in his stomach. “Do I have to go?”

“Yes,” his dad said firmly. “We’re all going.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t as if Dan had any plans for that weekend anyway, other than playing video games until past midnight. “What time is it?”

Papers rustled loudly as his dad gave up on sorting them and crammed them into an orange folder. “Uh…” he said. “It’s...one. In the afternoon. Yeah.” He glanced up, then, and something in Dan’s posture must have given away how he was feeling, since his face collapsed into concern. “Are you okay, Dan?”

“I’m fine,” Dan said instinctively.

He looked dubious. “Here,” he said, and shoved a few envelopes to clear the seat beside him, then patted it. “Sit down, come on.”

Dan did not want to sit, but he did so anyway. He had to fish out a crumpled paper from between the couch cushions after he sat down, and he took his time smoothing it out so he could avoid the deep gaze of his dad.

“So,” his dad finally said. “How’s school going?”

“It’s fine,” Dan muttered. The paper was cool against his fingers, but not as much as the marble countertop had been. The faint scrape of the paper edge as he slowly dragged his fingertips over them was soothing.

“Making any new friends?” his dad joked.

The paper dug in a little too deeply, threatening a papercut, so Dan pulled it away. “Losing some, maybe,” he said under his breath.

His dad’s ears were too sharp. “Ah,” he said. “Having some disagreements?”

“You could say that.” Dan’s eyes stung, suddenly, and he blinked harshly. His nose burned with the effort to hold back his emotions. “Do you - ” he started, and then had to breathe heavily through his mouth before continuing. “Do you ever feel like you did something wrong by not doing anything?”

There was no answer for a moment, but then his dad said slowly, “...Yeah, I have. Kind of recently, in fact. Why do you ask?”

Dan shrugged in response. His myriad of whirling thoughts and the sizeable lump dwelling in his throat wouldn’t allow him to say anything out loud, so he just folded the paper in his hands until it was a tiny square. He almost jumped when his dad placed a hand over his knee.

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” he said, voice soft, and Dan wanted to hurl himself away from it. The nausea was coiling its way deeper into the pit of his stomach and he almost felt light-headed, even though he was sitting. There was something important about the tone of his dad’s voice just now. Something that Dan didn’t want to have to answer.

“You know I love you, right? No matter what. You’re my son.”

Dan just nodded. The corners of his eyes burned.

His dad’s grip tightened on his knee, and then, in an almost forced casual tone, he asked, “So, have your eye on any pretty schoolmates?”

Dan’s gaze snapped up to his dad’s, almost defensively, but the returning expression was nothing less than understanding.

“Any girls?” his dad clarified, and then, after a dragging pause, added, “...or boys?”

Something crumpled inside Dan.

His dad must have seen it, since he hastily said, “You don’t have to tell me! I know what it’s like being a boy your age, it’s just that you never talk about girlfriends or, or boyfriends at all. Or bring anyone round.” He tugged the folded paper from Dan’s punishing grip and opened it, smiling down at the creases. “I just started thinking about it because of the wedding, you know? My coworker is marrying his boyfriend - took him long enough to propose, yeah? - but I told him congratulations the other day and that’s when...well, it’s when I realized I’ve never said anything like that to you. We never really talked about that. And I just want you to know that...it’s okay. Whoever you love, I’ll love. Well, sort of, I mean, I still have to be your dad and threaten your dates, but I - ”

Dan threw himself abruptly at his dad and was caught immediately, although he was clearly startled. Dan wrapped his arms around his dad and buried his face in his neck, feeling the dampness from his closed eyes making their way to the collar of his dad’s shirt. He’d never heard his dad say so much at one time. It hurt, but like the cleanest of cuts, and in the best of ways.

“I love you,” Dan heard himself say, and felt his dad’s laughter through his chest rumbling against him.

“Love you too, kiddo,” he said.

Dan withdrew after a moment longer, swiping ineffectually at his eyes. “I have to...homework,” he said desperately.

“All right,” said his dad, and it was so gentle that Dan wanted to curl up right there, head on his dad’s knees, and have a sob like he was five years old again. Instead, he scrambled to his feet.

“Thanks,” he choked out, and then he headed to his room.

~~~

The laptop was still open from that morning. The screen was dark as Dan dropped into his chair before it. It was hard to believe that a little over three weeks ago, he had changed his life, just a little, for the better when he'd signed up for this cheesy location-based friendship website. He and Phil had talked about nothing but the most casual of conversations, barely touching upon subjects that could be considered thought-provoking in any way.

Dan swiped his fingers across the mouse trackpad, lighting up the laptop screen, and he entered his password. The website and chat screen were still open from that morning, revealing his last message that had given his real name to Phil.

There was a single new message from Phil, timestamped that morning. hi Dan!

Dan's eyes burned, but he had barely just regained his composure from the encounter with his dad. He swiped at the threatening tears, taking a heaving breath that did little to settle his nerves. Maybe it was his message this morning before school, maybe it was what had happened at school, or maybe it was what his dad had just told him. Either way, something inside Dan yearned to be let out. To be known.

Despite his longing, his fingers still hovered hesitantly above the keyboard. He wanted to overthink it, but he knew that if he did, he would never send any sort of message.

hey, he finally sent, a terrible opener. He added, you up?

It was four in the afternoon. Of course Phil was up. This knowledge didn’t settle the anxiety twisting inside Dan.

A reply did not immediately pop up, so Dan switched tabs to Tumblr and scrolled for a few minutes. His computer pinged, then, and he flew back to the website so quickly that he almost closed out his browser on accident.

Yeah. Phil’s reply was almost lacklustre, a far cry from the enthusiasm usually conveyed in his previous messages. Maybe he’d had a bad day, too.

i have a weird question, Dan typed, and he worried his lip between his teeth before adding, you don’t have to answer.

sure.

you...like guys, right?

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation. Yep.

It couldn’t be so easy. 

...Couldn't it?

Dan's fingers moved without his permission, daring to test the idea. He forced himself to stop after only one sentence, gaze burning into the screen like he could set the computer on fire and escape from this. The letters stared coolly back, almost appearing emotionless on the screen, but Dan felt that, somehow, Phil would understand the turmoil behind them. It was something he'd never said out loud before, much less typed out in a way that could be held accountable against him.

i think...i do too.

~~~ previous chapter ~~~ next chapter ~~~

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 3

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,385 for this chapter (12,653 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Dan has been dreading the seemingly-inevitable call from his family, now that filmed interviews are being uploaded and live interviews are starting in the next few days, so he’s almost disappointed when it never comes.

Surely his parents know he’s in London. There’s promotion for his show on a couple different channels they watch, and his dad has always been fairly good at keeping up with entertainment news. Adrian follows him on Instagram, but - and Dan isn’t proud of this - he can’t remember if Adrian still lives in Wokingham or not. He can’t even remember how old Adrian is without doing the math.

So maybe they haven’t been keeping up with Netflix shit, maybe Adrian isn’t home to tell their parents that he’s in town, but surely, surely some well-meaning friend of the family will say something? That’s always been the case when he comes to town.

After almost a whole week, though, Dan cracks. He calls his mum. It goes to voicemail.

That makes him panic a little, but she texts him an, at work … call you when I’m home x. So, questionable ellipses usage aside, Dan is comfortably reassured that his entire family isn’t dead.

Dan busies himself with catching up on the Heatwave cast interviews he hasn’t watched yet. Patrick doesn’t like to watch them and Jaime couldn’t give a shit one way or the other, but Dan is unable to allow a video of him to exist without knowing exactly what it contains. That’s a control thing, mostly, but he also doesn’t want to be blindsided by a new Daniel Interview Meme that he doesn’t understand.

He types his own name into the YouTube search bar and feels his heartrate pick up when he sees a thumbnail from BBC Radio One.

Thinking about Phil makes his heart race like he’s a teenager with a crush, and he presses play just so he can listen to Phil talk. He can barely remember what he said in the interview, so completely caught up in Phil’s eyes and grin as he’d been.

The interview itself is good. Nothing special, in terms of the actual things they talk about, but Dan can feel the difference in the way he speaks to Phil versus the way he’s spoken to anyone else - comfort. He had been so immediately comfortable with their back-and-forth, only awkward because he’d been trying so hard not to think about what Phil looked like under his nice clothes.

Dan wonders if anyone else can see the difference or if he only notices because he’s so attuned to his own body language, has the advantage of knowing the whole context.

He scrolls idly through the comments and feels heat rise to his face.

Yeah. People noticed.

Lots of comments are just about Dan or the show or the lack of Patrick or Jaime, but there’s more than a few that are about Dan and Phil’s apparent chemistry. Phil, being an out gay man with no partner and a fanbase, probably has to deal with these types of comments all the time, but it’s new for Dan.

Dan shakes his head to try and clear it. He doesn’t want to get stuck in YouTube comments and feel impotent irritation every time someone replies, ‘uh, Daniel Howell is straight’, like they know him. Like he’s ever said that.

He’s been photographed with women, because he’s casually dated them over the past decade, but he’s never said he’s straight. And it never works out with them anyway.

Dating girls is fine - they’re all softness and little sighs and hands that look so extremely small wrapped in his own - but he doesn’t think he can ever be with one for a significant amount of time. That thought is one he usually keeps locked in his mental box, but. He doesn’t shy away from it this time.

Even if he could admit it to himself proper, it’s easier for Dan to just not talk about it publicly. He hasn’t dated anyone seriously enough for it to be an issue in ten years. Nobody needs to know that every time he’s inside a woman he remembers why it never progresses past that.

It’s fine. It’s always fine. It’s just, if he’s completely honest with himself, 'fine’ isn’t what he wants to settle for.

“Moot point anyway,” Dan mumbles to himself, clicking over to Phil’s channel for a distraction. “Not like you’re gonna do anything about it, you big fucking coward.”

Phil has uploaded the video he told Dan about when Dan was busy trying not to stare at his mouth. It’s such a welcome distraction that Dan almost doesn’t clock the title and thumbnail for the buffoonery they are.

IS MY DOG PSYCHIC?

The title doesn’t change when Dan blinks. Neither does the image of Thor, edited to be wearing round glasses in front of a crystal ball.

“What,” Dan says, clicking on the video before any of it really sinks in.

“Hi guys,” says Phil. He already looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “I know you read the title and you’re like, what, but I promise it is not clickbait! As I’m sure many of you know, my grandma had 'the gift’, and sometimes I think she passed it on to me. The question is, did I pass it on to my son?”

Phil pulls an over-exaggerated thoughtful expression and then breaks, giggling and shaking his head at himself.

“I know it’s stupid, but, I also figured it might be funny? I dunno, you tell me.”

It’s exactly as silly as Dan expects it to be. Phil sits on his floor with Thor while the dog 'reads’ his tarot cards. Dan can see why this video gave Phil a hard time in editing. There are a lot of close ups of Thor and the cards, filmed more like a comedy skit than a vlog.

He finds himself laughing along and getting way too invested in what the tarot cards mean, and he knows first hand how much work Phil put into this, so Dan clicks the share button before he can overthink it.

tbh watching amazingthorgi do anything could make a believer out of me, he tweets alongside the link.

Most of America is asleep still, but that doesn’t stop hundreds of people replying. Dan’s really got nothing better to do while he waits for his mum to call, so he settles in to respond to some of them. He makes a couple bad jokes, commiserates with some of them over not being able to have a dog yet, and ignores any mention of Phil.

Maybe that’s childish of him. He is sharing Phil’s work, after all. He sighs and replies to an innocuous question about how he knows Phil. met during this and then he let me meet his dog so now he’s not getting rid of me, Dan says with a link to the BBC Radio One interview.

His phone chirps with a Twitter notification and he taps it warily, still scrolling through replies on his laptop.

@AmazingPhil @danielhowell You saw his face now you’re a believer? He’ll tell your fortune anytime! It’s accompanied with dog and sparkle and crystal ball and, inexplicably, sock emojis.

Dan laughs, the sound of it almost surprising him. It’s impossible not to feel some kind of way when Phil is the way he is, so cheerful and dorky and fun.

He likes the tweet, but responds by messaging Phil - do you have me on notif or are you just always online - because he doesn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire that is Twitter stans. He can already imagine the argument threads about his sexuality that he usually tries so hard to avoid.

The thought of strangers picking apart something he’s not even comfortable with himself is abhorrent, makes him itch, and he puts on some older AmazingPhil videos to calm himself back down.

That depends

on?

Which one is lamer lmao

Phil’s voice filling the lonely hotel room and his words taking up space on Dan’s screen where something anxiety-inducing might have otherwise been is almost enough to make Dan as comfortable as Phil’s physical presence does.

Almost. It’s unreal how much Dan wants to reach through both of his screens to pull Phil closer.

Dan hides his smile in his hand, even though nobody is around to see it, and replies, tbh those are equally lame so you might as well go with the truth

I was on Twitter anyway. I really shouldn’t be, I’m supposed to be responding to emails. Phil keeps typing, then stops, then repeats that process a few times before he finally adds, I should go do that, but you can call or facetime me if you want to keep talking or whatever? It’s easier not to type/text while I’m doing emails lol

And, in a third message, a string of numbers. Phil’s phone number.

Well, that sounds better than using Phil’s videos as background noise. Dan shuts his laptop and gets out of bed to fuss with his hair.

“You’re such an idiot,” he tells his judgemental reflection. It, thankfully, does not respond.

Once he’s gotten his hair into some semblance of order - it’s mostly still straight from yesterday, but it got all sleep-mussed and a bit wavy in the front overnight - Dan tosses on a shirt and video calls the number Phil gave him.

Phil picks up with a big grin and sleepy eyes, and Dan almost hangs up on him to stop the heart palpitations in their tracks. “Hi!”

“Hey, you just wake up?” Dan asks, getting comfortable in the hotel room armchair. It feels weird to lie back down in bed while they’re chatting. Phil is at his desk, phone propped up so he can use both hands to type. His glasses are a little crooked and his shirt is too big on him, exposing his collarbones whenever he leans forward. Unfortunately, he looks like serious wank material right now.

“Yeah, had my first coffee already, though,” says Phil. “You would not like me before my coffee.”

“Barely like you now, mate,” Dan says to try and hide his blush at the idea of seeing Phil first thing in the morning. Phil just laughs. It’s tinny through Dan’s phone speaker, but it still makes Dan feel warm.

“You’re awfully chatty for someone who doesn’t like me,” says Phil.

“I’m only bored, don’t flatter yourself,” says Dan. “My mum’s supposed to call me in a few hours, so I’m just kind of waiting around til then.”

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t had the chance to go home yet, have you?” Phil’s tongue pokes out between his teeth as he concentrates on whatever he’s reading. “My mum would be going out of her gourd. When was the last time you went home?”

Dan doesn’t really like the way that Phil keeps calling it 'home.’ Wokingham hasn’t been home in a very long time.

He doesn’t want to get into that, though, so he just shrugs. “Uh, Christmas?”

“Dan,” Phil says, looking appalled. “It’s August.”

“I don’t live here,” says Dan. “And I’m busy. My family gets it.”

Phil hums, a little disapproving still. Dan has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t say anything scathing, reminding himself that some people actually like their parents.

It’s not that Dan doesn’t love them, because he does, it’s just. Complicated.

“Do you get to see your family often?” Dan asks, desperate to get the attention off of how shit a son he is.

“Not as often as I’d like,” says Phil. He sounds so genuinely sad about it, like he really would like nothing more than to go visit his parents every weekend. “My brother lives in town, so I see him a lot.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, he’s -” Phil cuts himself off, then, and gives Dan an apologetic sort of look through his screen. “You don’t want to hear about my family.”

“I do,” Dan says, and he’s surprised by how much he means it. He shifts in the armchair. It isn’t that comfortable. “Dude, I already know every song on your iTunes, what’s so weird about telling me stuff about your family? They clearly mean a lot to you.”

He has no idea how to interpret the expression on Phil’s face, but whatever it is shifts into a smile as he turns back to his computer. “Okay, his name’s Martyn, he’s older than me, we work together -”

This time, Dan cuts him off. “You do? I haven’t seen him on your channel.”

“He’s not really interested in being on camera. We actually run IRL Merch together, although honestly it’s mostly Martyn.”

Phil explains the business to Dan, who feels himself getting more and more awed by the amount of stuff Phil does on any given day. It isn’t just sitting in front of his camera and then in front of his computer for a handful of hours.

Granted, Dan never thought that being a YouTuber was easy, or everyone would do it, but Phil seems to add things onto his plate that he doesn’t really need to do.

Dan listens for a little while, changing positions in the armchair a few times before he gives up and flops back onto the bed.

“Phil,” he says, holding his phone high above his head and making a face at the angle. It’s fine, really, Phil has barely been glancing at him this whole time. Now that Dan has some kind of idea about the number of people Phil works with, he gets the hours of emails thing. “Do you ever take a break? Hang out with your friends?”

“What friends?” Phil jokes, but Dan senses there’s some truth behind it.

“Okay, first of all,” says Dan, “big mood.”

Phil’s laugh seems like it’s surprised out of him, and his eyes flick to his phone again. They linger on Dan for a long moment before turning away again. Although, to be fair, that may be lag from shitty hotel wifi. “Is it?”

“Yeah, man, like I’ve got any fucking friends. Second of all, you need to take some breaks or you’re going to burn the fuck out.”

“Trust me, I know,” says Phil.

“I know Thor already reminds you to take breaks,” says Dan. “But he can’t force you to. I can.”

“You’re gonna force me to take breaks?” Phil hums, his eyebrows raising. “How exactly are you going to manage that when you’re back in Atlanta?”

“I can be very annoying with nothing but an internet connection,” Dan promises. “You wanna see?”

“No, no, I believe you, and I need to get this done, please don’t.”

They both laugh, quiet, and Dan curls up on his side to just watch Phil work for a little while. Phil runs his fingers through his hair every so often and mouths along to whatever he types. Dan has no idea how one person can simultaneously be the hottest and the most adorable thing ever.

“I have a brother too,” Dan offers.

“Do you?” Phil asks, more surprised than Dan expects him to be. “That’s not on your Wikipedia.”

“He doesn’t like the attention,” says Dan. It’s a half-truth. Most of what he says about his family are half-truths. “But you’re not, like, a stan account or the media or whatever.”

“Technically, I am both,” Phil jokes. “I’ll keep it to myself, though, don’t worry.”

Dan isn’t worried. He trusts Phil not to go blabbing about him on the radio, even with something as small as Adrian’s existence.

It feels a little strange to trust someone so immediately, and part of Dan wants to pull back, put some distance between them, because the combination of trust and a deepening crush can only spell disaster. He’s not going to do that. He’s only got Phil nearby for another two weeks.

After they’ve finished their media circus in London, then Edinburgh, then Dublin, Dan is off to France with Patrick and Jaime. They’re only hitting a handful of international media press, but that’s more than they were asked to do last year. It’s exciting to be expanding this way, to have something to point to and say, 'I did that before I was 30’.

And when they’re done with the press tour, Dan… goes home. Back to Atlanta, where his apartment is being sublet during his summer travelling.

They don’t even know yet if Heatwave will get a fourth season. It’s a bit of an industry joke that Netflix shows rarely make it past the third. Dan doesn’t even want to consider how Atlanta will feel without a steady filming job down the street.

Probably not much like home. Nowhere feels all that much like home, if Dan’s honest.

“Hey, you still with me?”

Dan blinks away the doom and gloom of his uncertain future and refocuses on the conversation he’s supposed to be a part of. Phil is looking at him now, the sort of undivided attention that makes Dan’s cheeks burn.

“Yeah, sorry,” says Dan. “I’m still here. Have you made a dent in those emails?”

Not the most graceful change of subject, but Phil allows it with a small snort. “No, for I am Sisyphus, doomed to answer a dozen emails only for another dozen to arrive.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have, like, three jobs, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Dan points out. “I get maybe two important emails a day. It’s great.”

“Maybe,” says Phil. He’s still just looking at Dan, his chin resting on an open palm.

“What?” Dan asks, feeling a smile tug at his lips.

Phil smiles back, brighter. “Nothing.”

There’s a warmth in his face, visible even through the mediocre FaceTime quality, that makes Dan’s stomach twist all up in knots. He doesn’t know how to handle that at all. “My mum’s calling I gotta go bye,” he says in one breath, hanging up before Phil can even react.

While he waits for his heart to stop pounding, Dan stares at the hotel ceiling and wonders what the fuck is wrong with him.

–

Dan’s mum does call, eventually. He’s been fucking around on Guild Wars and cursing the wifi for god only knows how long, refusing to check his phone so he doesn’t have to be faced with another message - or the lack of one - from Phil. Dan finishes the raid and then calls his mum back.

“Daniel, hi,” she says, sounding frazzled in the way she always seems to.

“Hey, mum.” It feels weird, now that he’s got her on the phone, but he pushes past that discomfort. “I was just calling to let you know that I’m in London.”

The sound of a door slamming comes through before his mum says, “Well, yes, dear. I know that.”

She doesn’t sound upset with him. More than anything, she sounds confused. Like she doesn’t know why he’s even telling her this. Like it hasn’t even occurred to her to nag her son for a visit. Dan has to swallow past a lump in his throat, not sure why he wishes she was angry.

“Oh,” he says. Allows a long moment of quiet to pass, just in case she wants to explain herself. She doesn’t. “Well. Okay. Do you - are you busy weekend after next? I could come see you before we leave for the continent.”

“That’s quite short notice, dear,” his mum says, and Dan experiences a dizzying rush of relief and distress before she continues. “But I’m sure I can make some time for dinner.”

Dan exhales. Dinner. He can do dinner.

“That sounds good,” he says. Another half-truth. “I’ll text you?”

“Yes, yes,” his mum says, already sounding distracted. “Text me and we’ll make a proper plan. Work hard til then, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

The call ends almost as abruptly as his call with Phil, but Dan is okay with that.

im going to see my fam before i leave england jsyk, Dan texts to Phil. Phil sends him celebratory emojis in response. And maybe dinner with his family will be horrible, maybe it will be great, most likely it will be slightly uncomfortable, but at least he isn’t disappointing Phil on top of everyone else he’s let down.

[kae-karo]

Can you do an analysis on the last dan vs phil video?

hell yeah i can in the beginning…

nerds nerds nerds ‘in the beginning…..there was a tree…..’ cue phil’s lil laugh smh cowards release the footage of y’all recording this bit i would Die for it i wanna see y’all being cute-ass dorks together thanks

dan’s voice cracking tone when he’s trying to stop phil

‘n they didn’t tell anybody’ dumbasses u told three million people smh

the fucking dvp montage god this whole intro is just a testament to what dorks they are

‘emotional stability’ what the Fuck

we’re the only ones fighting for emotional stability here jfc

‘after,,,,,d- after da long ass time’ dan u spork

they pulled up the first clip of the dvp board i’m not sobbing ur sobbing

phil recognizing he’s doing the same intro voice i’m Soft

cute

dan forgetting what he was gonna say after his big ol dramatic ‘that is right everybody’ we stan a mess

“bitch there’s no space” did u mean

ahem anyway

phil ruining all dan’s dramatic storytelling gives me Life

how did i not know just dance 2 was one of their most popular vids???? it has 7.4m views??? (for anyone as curious as me, sims #1 has 8.2m and is the most popular, followed by just dance, then fnaf #1 with 7.2m then akinator of all things with 6.4m?)

phil liked yasuhati???? i stan immensely i loved yasuhati as y’all know

it’s a grand finale u spoons stop saying grand ‘final’ that just. sounds wrong lmao

dan spent an hour making that crown i’m crying he’s so cute as is phil’s reaction giggling at him 

they ran out of kitchen foil why did i need to know this

they literally fucking kept the present they crushed what’s wrong with them

‘look at what his ass did to this’ as if we don’t know what that ass do

dan keeping up the ‘i’ll ebay this’ joke i think someone’s catching the capita£ester

i love their adorable editing making each other disappear n phil chopping dan’s head off it’s endearing

cereal eating contest at least dan knows he’s lost (dan is the Actual psychic)

‘y’all fricken want us touching each other??? do you????? here ya fuckin go u animals enjoy’

me when dan makes bad innuendo puns

why does phil look so pleased with himself????

hi i know i say it every video but there is nothing more beautiful than phil looking at dan while he’s talking it just makes me weak????

he tongue

also important dan eye roll content

dnp each picking a game they think they can win and then they do win amazing

dan’s confused ‘should’ve put some in??? oh yeah i should’ve cheated’ immediately followed by his oh fuck yeah i probably should’ve

i would just like to point out that at this point we’re literally watching two dorks with their eyes shut psyching each other out for an entire thirty seconds

‘i’m getting so moist right now’ dan we already know ur kink is staring at phil okay we got it

phil looks like he knows he’s gonna win and i love him

why are they such dorks phil trying to make dan lose i’m being thrown violently back to pinof 4

also ofc dan has a strategy to win this of course he does of course i expect nothing less

i think dan,,,,,,broke the sound barrier there ;)

oi hi there lil rosy patch welcome back

caption this

‘it was the longest i’ve ever had my eyes open in my entire life’ dan is such a dramatic gay i love him like babe,,,,,,,u don’t have to hyperbolize everything okay

‘i don’t know why but i stared at u for like a minute’ ‘yeah’ 

dan screaming when phil touched the crown dan,,,,,,,do u have even one (1) ounce of chill

look i’ve never seen dan fixate so much on anything except phil

‘stop enjoying these rolling chairs so much’ hi daniel do u recall not a month ago when u wheeled ur bf around the flat bc i do recall u having a bit of fun there 

phil knowing he has noodly arms and dan immediately going ‘don’t u dare say that abt my husband’ is a mood

buster howell

dnp being terrified of snapping their arms in an arm wrestling contest is such a mood literally that’s like my reason for never ever wanting to arm wrestle

‘when i literally snap phil in half’ try not to look so pleased abt that dan

‘i’m not very good at fighting talk am i’ why did this immediately translate in my head to dirty talk katie u need to Stop with the phanfiction

oh my god they put the board down and my first concern was all the stickers were gonna get moved off or fall off or w.e

disappearing chins

sorry ik it’s been there but the cactus has fairy lights on it

nerds fighting over who moved who’s limbs

dan u can’t call phil out for leaning when ur leaning urself okay 

he looks exactly like he did in the dk vid

rosy patch, rosy patch, we love u lil rosy patch

hi phil’s lips look particularly pretty here

what’s wrong with them who gave them permission to be this cute n domestic

dan u can’t look that offended when u offered to play that game

(offended but fond is dan’s only mood toward phil)

doesn’t count what bloody doesn’t count daniel u dork

hi why are u so giggly looking at phil okay that’s not Legal

very dry eyes and an aching left arm, that’s how you know you’ve had a good time thanks dan thanks didn’t want that didn’t need it goodbye

the way he trails off into a laugh though that’s some good shit right there

“we said it at the same time” of course u did 

okay so pika @wlwphil​ said that dnp exist in a feedback loop of stupid bc they don’t talk to anyone but themselves i think this vid exemplifies that idea quite well tbh especially the rock paper scissors bit these nerds are so isolated in this lil loop that they massively psyche each other out over rock paper scissors i’m crying

“we know each other so well” hi yeah we know

i think it’s quite interesting that dan’s not interrupting phil like he usually would n talking over him? he’s letting phil talk? & waiting for a moment to interject?

dan puts in lil mind sneks does he phil does he really

dan having no plan which is his plan while phil’s got his first eight moves planned out 

dan’s lil shut up

okay okay okay hold up here i wanna talk abt this (hi anon who said i just like to talk abt everything u right son u right) these idiots are staring at each other n dan says ‘you should admit to them right now that i win most rock paper scissors’ and phil, whilst still staring at dan, says ‘he does’

phil. phil ur talking to ur audience. but ur staring at ur man. i’m just. this shook me. this truly genuinely shook me and idk i don’t even have a good explanation it’s just so,,,,,,,unlike them???? i guess??

phil nobody consented to this stop

i’m living for dan not realizing this

what,,,,,what

phil wins: face #1

face #2

break for the weird heartbeat in the background

phil trying to psyche dan out i love him

face #3:

if u notice we have a careful progression of dan going from slightly fond to more fond (but offended) to horrified but fond. phil goes from victorious to massively victorious to ‘i think the universe is about to explode from how victorious he is’

dan shouldn’t be allowed to sound so fond abt losing that’s illegal people can’t do that

the return of cannot believe

bow to me biatch

jiggly camera

i’ve invited ur mum ‘no u haven’t’ i find it super cute that literally every time there’s a ur mum joke directed at kath phil has to deny it?

dan’s sweatpants n slippers

dan pulling out the catti/bratty voices from undertale i love it

philip michael lester, with this…

oi don’t touch it!

now prance, king

dan’s cheeky lil grin

this guy

dan waiting patiently to be thanked

excuse me daniel and philip what did u cut out we went from y’all’s hands being down below shot and then they’re up next to ur face???? excuse me

hi we missed a lot that’s not allowed

cutes

sorry i love when dan does this with his lips it cute

phil has this incredible ability to deliver jokes with such seriousness i mean honestly it’s a genuine skill like???? when dan delivers jokes u Know it’s a joke but phil man,,,,,he could be completely serious if taken out of context

hi i just like that dnp called each other philip and daniel in this vid good content

yes phil all or nothings are valid

i’m here for them like indicating the other has to say some Significant thing at the end of the vids it’s real cute

[phanlight]

The Boy on the Blue Moon Dreams of Sun

prompt: dan is a theatre kid who hasn't had his first kiss but has to kiss someone for a show. he doesn't want his first kiss to be wasted so he tries to get it done properly beforehand & he meets phil and w/e you can take it from there!!!

““Tell you what,” Phil leans into him, and Dan can smell his cologne. “We’re gonna come back up here again, okay? And you’re gonna tell me about yourself. Properly, this time.

Dan frowns. “Isn’t that what we’ve spent the past ten minutes doing?”

“Yeah,” Phil says. “The only difference being next time we do this, I’m going to ban you from saying the word ‘acting’. So I can hear about you, the real you, and not whoever you pretend to be for a living.”

-

GUESS WHICH BITCH IS BACK AND WRITING AGAIN (spoiler: IT ME)

I thought it was about time I branched out a bit and tried my hand at a theatre au. This was so much fun to write (albeit kinda hard as despite being a literature student my Romeo and Juliet knowledge is a little subpar lmao lets hope I at least sort of did it justice tho) and deffo has more than ur daily dosage of angsty teenage actor!dan so look forward to that. thank u to the lovely anon who prompted me with this! (also yes i’m still relying on ptv lyrics for my song titles after 3 years sh)

Also I’m sorry if the writing in this is a lil inconsistent. I started this fic literally over a year ago and abandoned it for ages before finding and continuing it again. The first half was written in literally like mid 2016 (from which point my writing has obv improved a lot) and since then I’ve been working on it sporadically so if it feels like halfway through my writing style suddenly changes then that’s why OOPS soz

This was not supposed to be this long im so sorry wtf 13k ??? fuks sake

It’s the first time Dan’s ever been pissed off with being cast a lead role in a play.

He usually loves it – he loves the attention, loves having a ripped up script full of highlighted lines and more soliloquies to memorise than he can even keep count of. He shines under the warmth of the spotlight, lapping up the attention like a hungry cat, and when the applause ripples throughout the audience at the end, he can’t get enough of the sound.

It’s just- well, there’s one problem with his part.

It’s nothing he has against Romeo, not necessarily, and the piece itself is okay – Dan’s copy of the popular play in question is already crumpled with annotations; small post-it notes spilling fluorescent colours out of every crease (studying English literature alongside Drama always comes in handy as far as Shakespeare is concerned) and Romeo has a decent amount to say.

The problem is, he’s going to have to kiss someone.

Dan Howell, the one who snaps up almost every single role he auditions for, the one with a clay personality that can be moulded perfectly into whatever role he’s going for next, the one who lives the stage and breathes the lights, who was once described as ‘the heart and soul’ of the local theatre, is going to have to kiss someone.

And believe it or not, Dan Howell, the same seventeen-year-old who breezes through auditions leaving a flutter of girls at his feet, the same guy who was once rumoured to have made out with three people at the Les Miserables afterparty and the same guy who once had to reject two people in one night, has never actually kissed anyone before. Not properly, anyway.

Granted, he’s been extremely close to it a fair few times – having been in and out of auditions and callbacks since the age of about five, he’s come into contact with a considerable number of roles that involve love interests; only last month was his character Eddie supposed to kiss the love of his life, Alexandra, in the back of a car at a drive-in cinema. It was a play that one of the drama students had written; set in the fifties, all red-and-white ice cream parlours and hand jives and high school dances and Marilyn Monroe posters. Dan had enjoyed playing his part, and not just because it was the only opportunity he’d get to sport a black leather jacket (though he did decide leather looked really quite hot on him after that play. It’s almost a shame he’s vegetarian), but because the minor obstacle could, like every single other time, be solved with a stage kiss. Just a few seconds of his back to the audience, being agonisingly close to someone else’s lips, before pulling away and raking though his mind to try and remember the next line. It’s always worked for him, every time.

Except for this. Because the director, a Lucy Howcroft with a loud voice and a bossy personality, has only gone and booked them the Round at the Old Vic theatre. Which would be fine, of course it would; it’s one of the most popular theatres in the city and the theatre group is going to get a huge reputation for this afterwards, but it’s not so handy as far as stage-kissing is concerned. When you’re being stared at from every angle three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around, there’s no way you can get away with only partially leaning in to kiss.

“Are you sure there’s no way around this?” Dan had insisted when he’d stolen a moment after rehearsal to talk to Lucy. She’d been clearing her desk – a papery mountain range, and had looked a bit too busy to talk, but Dan would rather discuss this with her one-on-one instead of having to voice his feelings with twenty other pairs of eyes staring at him.

“For someone who just bagged yet another lead role, I would’ve thought you’d be a little more gracious than this,” Lucy had muttered, snapping a file shut. “I didn’t have to cast you, y’know.”

“It’s not- I am grateful, you know I am, it’s just-“

“Is there a problem with the casting of Juliet?” she’d offered, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Dan had insisted. “She’s fine.”

“The costume, then?” she’d tried. “I’m not a bloody mind reader, Dan. Help me out a bit here.”

Dan had shut his eyes and taken a deep breath, trying to comb the tangle of words in his head into some kind of coherent sentence.

“I mean- I just- the venue,” he gulped. “It’s- there’s a bit of a problem.”

“What about it?” Lucy sighed, irritation tracing the edges of her tone. “I fail to see what’s so problematic about getting a slot at the Old Vic of all places, but if you have any objections, then do enlighten me.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-“ Dan gulped, not really too sure how far he’s going to get with this. The bitterness already in her tone didn’t sound at all promising. “I don’t know. Do we have to perform in the round?”

“Christ, is performing in one of the most popular theatres in London that much of a chore?”

“No, no, I just-“ he gulped, trying to work out how the hell he’d word this without sounding like a twat. “I’ve never really… you know. Performed in an environment like that before.”

“You’ve been acting for twelve years,” she said bluntly. “I’m sure you have enough experience to be able to deal with a round stage instead of a rectangular one.”

“But- like, isn’t the round meant for- like… you know, Greek plays and shit?”

“It used to be,” she’d said, taking care to apply extra emphasis on the past tense. “Since when were you so hung up on the traditions of theatre, anyway?” she’d added after a pause. “Only last week were you totally in favour of the idea of having a rap battle in the middle of Othello.”

Dan had frowned, because that wasn’t really fair – sure, a rap battle isn’t exactly a common feature of Shakespeare’s plays, but no one could deny that Louis, playing Iago, was pretty good at freestyling whenever a mic was thrown in his direction. Despite not adhering to the conventions of traditional English theatre, it certainly made the play more entertaining.

“It’s just gonna be- you know. It’s gonna take some getting used to,” he’d mumbled instead.

“You have three months to get used to it,” she’d pointed out. “I’m sure you and the rest of the cast will have familiarised yourself with it by the time the production comes around.”

“But- the round is traditionally meant for-“

“Look, if you’re going to get so archaic about it, I can always build a time machine, book the open-air Globe for, like, sometime four-hundred years ago, and you can spend the next three days picking rotten tomatoes out of your hair,” she said. “Does that sound better?”

“They only did that to bad actors,” Dan had pointed out. Lucy rolled her eyes.

“And you know what makes a good actor, Dan?” she retorted. “Flexibility. The willingness to branch out of your comfort zone.”

Dan had sighed. He’s not going to get anywhere with this, is he?

“You know what?” he’d finally shaken his head, defeated. “Forget it.”

She watched him turn on his heel with a raised eyebrow. “See you Tuesday, then? First read-through of the script is at eleven in the morning.”

“See you then,” Dan muttered, not even bothering to turn around.

He let the door slam behind him.

It’s not that Dan doesn’t want to kiss anyone – (quite the contrary, really. He loves the idea of it, loves the thought of someone’s lips pressed up against his, the world slowing down around them and his heart feeling like fire. He’s always tried to incorporate that feeling into his acting, letting his passion leak into every character he’s cast, but when the stage lights are off and the curtain is down, his attraction to his colleagues ends there) – it’s just- well, he doesn’t really think he’s found the right person to share the real experience with, yet. His fellow actors and actresses aren’t unattractive by any means, but he doesn’t look at any of them and find himself struck by the desire to taste their lips and whisper incoherence into their ears like Eddie was supposed to do in the back of that car.

Seventeen, and still hasn’t had his first kiss. Still doesn’t want to waste it, at that.

Pathetic.

-

Technicians don’t get paid enough, Phil thinks.

He’s spent the day holed up in the trap room, devouring what was left in the back of the fridge (including a half-opened pack of Doritos that tasted like they expired about five years ago) and puzzling over this fucking broken light board that everyone had very kindly left him to take care of. It had already taken him over half an hour to get one of the chunky old Mac laptops up and running again (seriously, who in this day and age is still using an iBook?) and even then it only really half-functions – a handful of keys are missing, the trackpad only ever seems to work when it feels like it, and there’s a huge hairline crack right across the screen. Phil’s spent so long cursing through gritted teeth and smacking the table in frustration every time the damn thing freezes that it wouldn’t come as a surprise if he ended up contributing to those cracks by the end of the day. Maybe that’s how they ended up there in the first place.

“You alright?” the door suddenly opens and a voice – Nick, Phil presumes, breaks the aching silence that the room has been blanketed in for the past four hours. Finally, Phil sighs, feeling a pinch of anger melt away. Human company.

“Been better,” Phil mumbles, popping a couple of grapes into his mouth. Been better, he scoffs to himself. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t been worse.

“Chuck me a coke, will you?” he pulls up a chair and puts his feet on it, perching on the edge of the table. Phil heaves out a sigh – that involves getting up – but musters up enough energy to lean over and yank the fridge open. He tosses him a can, and Nick catches it expertly.

“Nice of you to show up,” Phil rolls his eyes. “Only four hours late this time. That’s an hour and a half off your personal best.”

“They said they didn’t need me here ‘till three,” he protests, popping the can open and taking a few gulps. “They said you had it all under control.”

His sentence is punctuated by a burp. Phil grimaces.

“Under control,” Phil snorts. That’ll be the fucking day.

“What did they leave you here to do?” he frowns.

“Only fix this entire fucking thing,” Phil nods over to the stupid light board. God, he’s sick of the sight of it. “Beats me what’s wrong with it. I’ve only just managed to get this dinosaur up and running,” he gestures to the corpse of a laptop in front of him, “let alone look at that.”

“Fuck me, man,” Nick sighs out a heavy breath. “If I knew, I could have come in earlier to help you out a bit. You should have texted me.”

“It’s fine,” Phil sighs even though- well, it’s not, really. There’s only so many hours of broken technology and out-of-date food one can take. “It’s not your fault,” he adds truthfully.

“They’re twats sometimes, aren’t they?” Nick lowers his voice, despite the fact they’re literally underground here, beneath the earshot of everyone.

“I’ll say,” Phil widens his eyes, trying to click something and- nope, it’s fucking frozen again. “For fuck’s sake. They’re all bloody loaded, too. You would have thought with the money they have, they could fork out a little for equipment that at least half-functions, right?”

“Yup,” Nick sighs. “Guess bookings for overpriced fancy-ass theatres are higher up on their agenda, though.”

Phil can’t argue with that. Apparently they’re going to have to wire up something in the Old Vic, of all places, next week. Phil dreads to think how much hiring that place out for even a few hours is going to cost, let alone booking it for three nights.

Probably more than enough to buy a better fucking laptop.

-

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but-“

“No- no,” Lucy holds up her hand. “Come on, Dan. More emotion than that. You’re telling the love of your life that even the moon is envious of her beauty. At least pretend to put some passion into it.”

Dan rolls his eyes – only the fourth time he’s had to repeat this fucking soliloquy in the past fifteen minutes. He’s pretty sure he’s only one “no, no, it’s too (insert adjective here)” away from giving up with this whole thing altogether. He’d rather have played Benvolio anyway.

“Come on,” Lucy continues. “We’ll take it from Be not her maid…”

Dan shuts his eyes, scrapes up the remaining traces of his sanity, and takes another breath.

“Be not her maid since she is envious.

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!

It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.

Oh, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—

I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they retur-“

“No, no-“ she interrupts him again and for fuck’s sake, at this rate, Dan won’t even need to spend any time in his bedroom going over his lines. He’s pretty sure he’s memorised half of the monologues already just from recapping in rehearsals alone.

“Come on, really feel it,” she pleads. “You can’t say something as romantic as that with a face like yours – you’re literally saying that two stars in the sky have gone away and they’re asking Juliet’s eyes to shine in their place until they return.”

Dan balls his fists, ready to snap back that yes, he’s fully fucking aware of what’s going on in the play thank you very much, in case she hadn’t forgotten he did actually study it for three separate exams and subsequent exposure to the text in question has made him rather familiar with the occurrences currently taking place, but they’re all interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Lucy huffs, mildly irritated.

The door knob jitters, then twists.

“Hiya,” a black-haired boy nods tiredly, pushing through the crack in the door. Dan immediately recognises him – one of the tech guys, he thinks, but he isn’t entirely certain. He’s never really spoken to any of the crew before; they tend to keep well out of the limelight (they’d rather control it instead).

“Everything okay?” Lucy asks, before turning to Dan and Alexandra (his Juliet). “You two, take five. Be ready to take it from the top.”

They both relax and take a seat on one of the upturned wooden boxes. It isn’t until Dan takes the weight off of his legs he realises how much they’ve been aching – fuck, he really needs to get back to that gym.

“Any luck?” she says to Mr. Black-Hair. He’s holding a laptop that looks as if it’s seen better years, never mind days, and a long cord of wire that snakes around his fist.

“Nothing at all,” he sighs, flicking a strand of his fringe out of his eyes. His hair looks as if it hasn’t seen a hairbrush for days, but there’s something about the way it sits shaggily on his head that kind-of suits him (Dan wishes he could pull off messy hair – he only attempted ditching the straighteners once and spent the rest of the day wondering if any birds had mistaken his head for a nest).

He doesn’t realise he’s been staring until he catches the tail end of Alexandra’s sentence and realises he hasn’t actually been listening for the past minute or so.

“What was that, sorry?”

“I asked you how you were finding Romeo so far,” she repeats.

“Hm? Oh yeah, yeah- he’s fine,” Dan says, not taking his eyes off of Mr. Black-Hair. He’s lost the thread of their conversation (he’s no lip reader) but by the looks of it, it seems as if there’s a problem with one of the laptops.

“Are you sure?” Alexandra frowns. Dan looks at her, but his glance is soon pulled back to the technician.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs. “You don’t really- I don’t know, you just don’t seem to be… you know. That into it, y’know?”

“Wait-“ Dan shakes his head, trying to focus on their conversation instead of the one a few metres away from. “Hang on- what? What makes you say that?”

She raises her eyebrows, as if to say ‘really?’. Dan’s expression remains carefully blank.

“Come on, Dan. We wouldn’t have had to repeat this stupid scene like, five times if you were actually into it. I’ve seen you do way better than this.”

“Oh, not you as well,” Dan groans, deflating. He’s pretty sure that exact sentence had fallen from Lucy’s lips not so long ago. He’s sick of hearing it, sick of having to sit and listen to people tell him that he ‘can do way better’ and ask ‘is everything all right, Dan? Nothing bothering you, is there?’ because he’s just ‘not himself’ at the moment.

That’s the most ridiculous one, he thinks, because for Christ’s sake, he’s an actor. He’s never himself.

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” Alexandra says, backtracking. “You know I don’t. I just- I think I overheard Lucy say you had a problem with something or other last week?”

“Did you,” Dan mumbles, unable to keep the bitter sarcasm out of his town. Alexandra remains unfazed.

“What was that about, though?” she remains unfazed. “Nothing to do with the casting, is it?”

“You really think it’s to do with the casting?” Dan stares at her in disbelief, before scoffing. “Yeah, like, I’m gutted to have bagged the lead role alongside you at one of the best theatres in the country. How am I going to cope?”

Not entirely truthful, but not a complete lie either.

“Just making sure,” a grin tugs at her lips, and she flicks a curl of red hair behind her shoulders. “I don’t have much of a problem with it myself, to be honest.”

“That’s reassuring,” Dan smirks sarcastically, but his tone is fairly benign. There’s certainly no denying she’s fucking gorgeous and it’s really no wonder she’s Juliet – she has hair the colour of a sunset falling down her back in ruby curls, emerald eyes framed by a curl of long eyelashes and cherry red lips that stretch into a wide smile whenever Dan cracks a joke, giving way to a small dimple on the side of her cheek. Her skin is pale, the colour of moonlight, almost, and he idly thinks, just for a fleeting second, that the moon probably would be jealous of her. She’s beautiful.

“Certainly don’t have a problem with getting to snog you in front of a thousand people, I must be honest,” she adds, and Dan’s stomach drops and his grin vanishes. Shit.

He wrings out a laugh, internally wincing at how false it sounds. “Yeah, I- um-“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone mutters a few footsteps away from them. He snaps his head up, and Lucy plus Mr. Black-Hair are hunched over the desk, clearly getting nowhere with the absolute disaster they call an iBook.

“Wait- what’s the problem?” Dan suddenly gets up. He feels a little bad for leaving Alexandra so abruptly so he throws her a little apologetic ‘be right back’ glance, but he can’t help it – he might actually be able to help, here.

He shoves down the other voice in the back of his mind, the ‘or rather you’re just grabbing at any opportunity to avoid any potential conversation about the kiss you fucking wimp’

“It’s okay, Dan, sit back down. I’ll be with you both in a second,” Lucy calls over her shoulder.

“No, really,” Dan insists. “I know a thing or two about Macs. I have one myself, and-“ he catches Lucy drawing in a breath, ready to protest, and he regrets the spill of words almost as soon as they come out – fuck, why can’t he just keep his mouth shut? – but Mr. Black-Hair turns around, an eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Really?” his stare is the colour of ice, the sky on a December morning, but it’s weirdly warm at the same time.

“I- uh, yeah,” Dan stutters when he remembers how to talk again. “I’ve always had Macs. They’re great when they decide to work, but they can be a bitch when they begin to act up, and-“ he cuts himself off with an awkward shrug, “yeah.”

“Tell me about it,” the technician smirks. “This bastard-” he nods to the chunky white rectangle in his arms, “took me like, half an hour to boot up alone. And now it’s been frozen for like- twice as long as that. I’ve only had chance to type in my password so far.”

Lucy’s still standing in the middle of them and it’s getting a bit difficult to ignore the stony glare burning into Dan’s peripheral vision right now and even harder to avoid eye contact with her, but it doesn’t stop him from offering some help, albeit rather inappropriately timed.

“I- um, have my MacBook with me if that helps?” Dan offers, trying not to feel the heat of his blush when Mr. Black-Hair looks straight at him. “I mean- if you don’t need it that’s fine, but like- it’ll function a bit better than that thing,” he shrugs. “I dunno. It would probably save you a lot of time.”

“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “Like, with you right now?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I mean – I haven’t got my charger on me, but it’s on, like, eighty percent. Should be fine.”

“I mean-“ he throws a permission-seeking glance, towards Lucy, who Dan is pretty sure would be having steam coming out of her ears would it be humanly possible. She fixes Dan with a hard stare, a real ‘go on; be my guest’ look that’s always comes across as more of a dare than permission, a challenge for his conscience, but he can’t help an apologetic smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s cool with you, right?” his lips say before his mind catches up.

Lucy rolls her eyes in defeat. “If you absolutely must. But only- only because I could do with the extra time to independently go over one of Alexandra’s soliloquy.”

His face breaks out into a grin, and he’s not that sure why. “Thanks, Luce. I owe you one.”

“Don’t you make a habit of this, though. Remember; this is your own rehearsal time you’re sacrificing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan calls over his shoulder, trailing off. Mr. Black-Hair holds the door open behind him, and suddenly they’re out of the rehearsal studio and walking in a weird mutual silence sitting in a strange middle ground between comfortable and uncomfortable, across the car park and over to the actual theatre.

“Are you alright to do this, yeah?” Mr. Black-Hair (Dan seriously needs to come up with more imaginative mental nicknames for people) breaks the silence on their walk down to the trap room.

“It’s no problem at all,” he smirks as another wooden step groans under his foot. “Anything to get out of rehearsal.”

Dan’s never really been here before, never touched the underground territory where the technicians lurked, but there’s something about the atmosphere of this place that grips him.

-

Half an hour passes, and Dan couldn’t really tell you why he’s still sitting down here, still sitting on a revolving chair with a rip in the upholstery, under half-broken beams, tables that look like they’re seconds away from collapsing, and a lot of weird technology that he’d never even attempt to get his head around (seriously – do they even need this many buttons?). He’d given his laptop to Black Hair to receive a very emphatic ‘thank you, like seriously you’re a fucking lifesaver if I spent a second longer with that piece of shit I really don’t know what I would have done’ and the job had been done in seconds. Since then, a casual conversation had been struck up and Dan finds he doesn’t actually want to go back upstairs just yet.

“You two sounded really good in there,” Black Hair comments. They’d been talking about the play. “From what I heard, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Dan says, trying to ignore the quiet blush that warms his cheeks. There’s nothing quite like someone complimenting his acting. “Clearly not good enough for Lucy, though.”

“Few things are, Dan,” he sighs, and Dan only finds it half-weird that this guy knows his name, but Dan doesn’t actually know his. It’s unnerving, sure, but nothing he’s a stranger to. “She’s been on at you all morning.”

“Yeah,” Dan pauses, before adding an apologetic “sorry, I- um, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“It’s fine. I’m Phil,” he grins, and Dan thanks his lucky stars there’s finally a name to put to the face.

Dan studies him briefly, and frowns. “You do look familiar, actually.”

“Yeah – I do all the donkey work downstairs,” he grins. “You may have seen me emerge from the cave every now and then.”

Dan chuckles, deciding there and then that he likes Phil.

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” Dan asks, studying the square lights looming above them, one of which he notices is stuttering slightly, flickering on and off every now and then.

Phil shrugs, not taking his eyes off of the screen. “Kinda. But I mean – I have my little crew down here, y’know? There’s five of us. We just like- keep each other company. Help each other whenever we need to,” he glances at Dan. “Oh, and sneak up to the theatre and watch you guys every now and then.”

Dan giggles. “Brilliant. Must be a nice little community, though.”

“Yeah, it is,” Phil hesitates. “Or perhaps ‘support group’ might be a more appropriate term. For the poor sods who have to put up with shitty laptops and gross food.”

Dan laughs, and helps himself to another Dorito.

-

“Okay, right- Dan, sorry if this sounds a bit weird because- like, we’ve pretty much only just met, but like- um- I was wondering if you wanted to-“

“Phil,” Dan cuts him off. As an actor, there’s something about hearing people stutter and ramble without really saying anything that tends to grate on him. “I’d love to.”

“Really? Well, I-“ Phil stops and frowns. “Hang on a second. How did you know I was gonna ask you to hang out?”

Dan shrugs like he hasn’t spent the last thirteen years mastering the sciences of body language and speech and how they can be applied to the acting world. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Phil smiles. “I mean- would you? Like, really?”

“Of course,” Dan says.

“Well yeah, like- I don’t have to be home for a while yet, and I have a car so we could just like- drive around for a bit? Go to town if you want?”

Dan smiles, and repeats what he said before he even knew what Phil was going to say.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

-                                          

It’s a bit of a weird result to come out of lending his laptop to a stranger for a while, but it’s how Dan finds himself spending the evening sat in the passenger seat on the top of a car park roof, blasting some weird indie song from the depth of Phil’s Spotify and watching the sun sink further behind the buildings, painting the sky warmer with every slow minute that passes on the dashboard clock.

They’d had a drive around the city together, sometimes talking, sometimes letting lulls in the conversation give way to thoughtful silences, both of them tapping away to Phil’s music taste, but Dan thinks it’s been about fifteen minutes since either of them last said anything.

“So,” Phil is the first to break the silence. He flicks the last of his cigarette out of the window (Dan had insisted on rolling down the windows before he did that – there’s no way he’s going home stinking of an ashtray). “Tell me about yourself.”

Dan looks up from his phone at that, his heart thudding.

“You what?”

“You know,” Phil’s gaze doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on the view in front of the windscreen. They’d picked a spot at the very top of a multi-storey car park overlooking everything, leaving the city a pool of lights and colours and life far beneath them. “I don’t really know you. So tell me about yourself.”

“I- um-“ Dan gulps. This wasn’t really a question he came prepared for. He shrugs. “I don’t really know what there is to tell, if I’m honest.”

“Oh, now come on,” Phil presses. “Just- anything. Your hobbies. Your life. Your dreams. What you want to be when you’re older.”

“I feel like I’m in a bloody job interview,” Dan chuckles. Phil’s lips quirk upwards in response.

“You are. I’m interviewing you to see if you’re fit for the job of being mates with me.”

“The ‘job’?” Dan frowns. “Like it’s a chore?”

“That’s for you to decide,” Phil grins. “Now, come on. I wanna hear about you.”

Dan gulps, silence falling for the first time in a while.

“I- um, well I think my hobby is probably pretty obvious, for a start,” Dan begins. Phil rolls his eyes. “And what I wanna be when I’m older, too. I’m gonna do a degree in Drama, I reckon.”

“What else are you into, then?”

Dan stops for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Phil presses, flicking his lighter and sparking up another cigarette. “You must have other interests besides acting. You got a girlfriend?”

Dan clams up. “Um- no.”

“Oh. Boyfriend, then?” he quirks his eyebrows, and Dan shakes his head miserably.

“Afraid not.”

“Glad we established that,” Phil smirks, but Dan doesn’t really smile back.

He chews on the inside of his lip, having a staring contest with a pair of headlights sliding across one of the roads beneath them.

“What music are you into, then?”

Dan swallows, trying to think. It’s like someone’s scraped over his mind with an eraser, rubbing out his interests and his life and his personality, all pencilled in with weak lines.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs. “This and that. I like whatever this is,” he nods to the Spotify track on Phil’s phone. “Bit of Indie, it’s good. Oh, and I love- what are they called? Pink Floyd?”

“Floyd’s good,” Phil agrees. “And Nirvana.”

“Yeah,” Dan gulps, feeling another silence probe the conversation.

“You into the Smashing Pumpkins?”

Dan shakes his head.

“Oh, okay. Slaves?”

Dan shakes his head again.

“Genesis?”

“Never even heard of them.”

“Cobalt Night?”

Dan shakes his head again

Phil cackles. “Oh Christ. You do realise I made that last band up?”

“Oh god,” Dan can feel his cheeks burn peony. “I’m not doing myself any favours here, am I?”

“Don’t worry, I’m only messing with you,” Phil says. “I think it would be more embarrassing if you said yes, to be honest.”

“True,” Dan shrugs, feeling Phil’s stare burn into his side profile. He sits back further in his seat, keeping his stare.

“You’re not really into much, are you?

Dan shrugs.

“I’m more into Musical Theatre, really. Ever since we did a production of Hamilton I haven’t really been able to get that rap out of my head,” he chuckles.

“Right,” Phil sits up a little bit and clears his throat. “Well we’ve established your music taste and your hobby. Who are your favourite actors, then?”

It’s like someone’s flicked a switch inside Dan. His eyes light up.

“-and Leonardo DiCaprio, oh my God, don’t even get me started on him. I mean- who wouldn’t fuck young Leo? Have you even seen him in Titanic? And Romeo and Juliet too, Jesus Christ he’s gorgeous. He’s so fucking gorgeous. I’m not gonna do Romeo’s role any justice when he’s my competition, am I?”

Phil just nods and says the odd ‘hm’, listening to Dan’s stream of consciousness.

“-and Helena Bonham-Carter, what a fucking legend, man. She’s just- her character is just so versatile, you know? I mean- there’s a good reason she’s in literally everything, and that’s because she’s fucking amazing- have you seen Fight Club? You must have seen it, it’s incredible. She’s incredible. It’s a bit of a mind fuck if I’m honest, what with the split personality thing and everything, but- oh God, Brad Pitt is so good in it too. And he’s pretty hot, I’m not gonna lie. Well, until he grew out his hair and looked a bit like a farmer. But- where was I? Oh yeah, Helena Bonham Carter-”

“She was good in Sweeney Todd, too,” Phil comments, and he’s off again.

“-like, that was the first time I ever saw Johnny Depp act, and by Christ that film creeped me out. I mean- I was only like, seven when I watched it so of course it was gross, like, what seven year old watches people do- you know, that, to paying customers? I feel sorry for the poor sods who just went in there wanting to give their beards a trim. But- yeah, they were both really good in Sweeney Todd. I had a bit of a crush on Helena- and Johnny too, for that matter, I mean come on, who didn’t? But then I found out Johnny Depp is a bit of a dick in real life so I went off him after that. But Helena’s still cool, obviously.”

“She’s good, yeah,” Phil nibbles at a protruding hangnail on his thumb.

“And- oh god, who’s another good actor? Oh, don’t even get me started on Morgan Freeman. Absolute fucking legend. Like, oh my god. Him and that other one- god, what’s his name? The guy from Donnie Darko?”

Dan’s brain is moving far too quickly for Phil to keep up and he has no idea what the correlation between Morgan Freeman and Donnie Darko is, but he gives it a shot anyway.

“Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“Yes. Yes, oh my god, that’s the one,” Dan’s face breaks out into a grin. “Fuck, Donnie Darko. What a film, man. My friend has a tattoo of it, and-“

It continues like this, Dan chatting nineteen-to-the-dozen and Phil counting the glitters of passion in his eyes, before they’re both interrupted by a buzzing on Dan’s lap.

“Oh shit,” he grabs his phone. “It’s my mum.”

Phil doesn’t know what she’s saying on the other end of the line, but judging by Dan’s apologies it sounds like he’s stayed out here for a little too long.

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles, tugging on his seatbelt. “Lost track of time a bit, there.”

“Clearly,” Phil grins.

“This was good, though,” Dan says. “Like, really good. Thanks for, you know. Suggesting this.”

“Tell you what,” Phil leans into him, and Dan can smell his cologne. “We’re gonna come back up here again soon, okay? And you’re gonna tell me about yourself. Properly, this time.

Dan frowns. “Isn’t that what I’ve spent the past like- hour doing?” he glances at the clock and shit, has it really been that long? It’s pitch black outside, the only light coming from the glitter of the city beneath them (shit, it really is beautiful from up here) and he was supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” Phil says, starting up the engine. “The only difference being next time we do this, I’m going to ban you from saying the word ‘acting’. So I can hear about you, the real you, and not whoever you pretend to be for a living.”

-

The next few days pass in a blur of line-learning, enduring Lucy’s lectures about how he just ‘isn’t putting enough ‘oomph’ into it, come on now, we’ll take it from the top one more time’ and Dan has to act like he actually gives more of a shit about what Romeo’s saying right now than what Phil had said in that car a few days ago. He has to act like it isn’t what he’d been reciting over and over in his mind, the words digging grooves into the back of his mind and making themselves at home.

He has to act like there’s more to his fucking life than acting.

-

The next time Dan sees Phil, they’re both cooped up in a control room eating lunch in a companionable silence; Dan going over his lines and Phil puzzling over these two wires that are, according to him, sly bastards that won’t fucking go in these holes Jesus Christ, to which Dan had shut his eyes and prayed to god no-one outside the room had caught that out of context. There’s a huge control panel, rows and rows of buttons and sound mixers and, as Dan had very accurately christened them, “slidey-things” in front of them. He has no idea what any of this stuff is, no idea what a “cross-fader” is or what the hell a “submaster” is supposed to do, but every now and then Phil will casually lean over and flick a switch or press a button and a stage light beneath them will change.

“What’s up?”

Dan looks up from his script. He’s been poring over his lines for so long he’s pretty sure stripes of yellow highlighter are now permanently inked into the back of his mind, now.

“What? Nothing.”

Phil swings his legs off of the bar they’d been resting against. They’re halfway through sharing a KitKat (Dan had taken a trip down to the Co-op at the beginning of the lunch break and returned with a bag so heavy with food it had left a dent in his hand, insisting Phil can’t be living on stale crisps his entire life) and watching a rehearsal, one Dan doesn’t have to be in for once, through a pane of glass.

“You’re going to have to do better if you want to convince me, Mr. Theatre Kid,” Phil reaches over to the bowl in front of them and plucks a grape from the stem. “I thought you were good at acting.”

“What do you want me to do; leap up and perform a jig?” Dan turns a page, the paper rustling a bit too loudly. “I’m fine, Phil. Stop reading into things too much.”

Phil stares at him. “You’re sat there with a face as long as my leg, and I’m reading into things?” he quirks an eyebrow. “Be careful. If you stare at that page any longer it’ll probably burst into flames.”

“Shut up,” Dan mutters, the edge in his voice a little too sharp for it to slip by as a joke.

Phil does.

Dan sighs. “Sorry, I just-“

“Rehearsals getting to you?” he suggests softly. Dan doesn’t plan on letting the real problem slip; Christ, he can only imagine the havoc that would ensue if it got around that as well as obsessing over acting he’s also never actually kissed anyone, so he quickly takes Phil up on that.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean- Romeo’s a good character to play, I guess, but he does have an awful lot to say.”

“You’ll be okay,” Phil reassures him. “You still have months of time left to memorise your lines. When’s the play?”

“Seventh of February,” Dan says. Two months from now.

“There we go,” Phil says. “You have plenty of time yet.”

“I guess so,” Dan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve done this millions of times before,” Phil says. “You’ll be fine; I know you will. You’re a natural.”

Dan wishes he knew the half, he really does, but there’s just something about Phil’s smile that makes him almost want to believe him.

-

Dan manages to tell Phil a little bit more about himself next time they’re on the roof together, and in return, he learns a bit about Phil too.

“Well, when I was acti-“

“Nuh-uh,” Phil interrupts him. “No acting talk, remember?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “It’s relevant to what I was gonna say. It’s an important part of the story.”

“Wherever the hell you can fit acting into a story about you and your friends getting drunk and stealing a supermarket trolley because you couldn’t afford a taxi, I’d be very impressed.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dan grins, and that was the only time acting came into conversation that night.

-

Dan learns Phil is eighteen, that he’d failed his driving test three times before passing because he was driving on the wrong side of the dual carriageway, and swears he’s going to give up smoking next year, he promises. He learns that his favourite colour is blue because he likes the way the colour skates across the ocean water in the summer, and that he used to be scared of dogs before his parents got him a puppy for Christmas, a bouncy Labrador called Daisy with a love for the sun and walks down to the beach.

“I fucking love dogs,” Dan beams.

“So do I, now. Took me long enough,” Phil agrees, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Daisy’s so cute, oh my god. You will love her.”

Dan doesn’t say anything, but there’s something about the definite use of ‘you will’ that he likes.

He, in turn, finds that he does have some thoughts and feelings and dreams hidden away in there, beneath the façade of scripts and stage lights and acting. He finds he does have stuff to say, stuff that isn’t always attached to a web stringing back to the theatre. He tells Phil all about his cat, Ozzy (a little shit who takes great pleasure in knocking all his belongings off of his desk and sleeping on his laptop, but he loves him anyway) his annoying next-door neighbours who don’t seem to see any problem with blasting ABBA at three in the morning, and they manage to find common bands they both like. Oasis is playing when the sun sinks, the sky darkens, and the city lights up beneath them.

“God, I love this one,” Phil mumbles, his speech obscured by the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “Don’t Look Back In Anger. It’s one of their best.”

“Oh god, yeah,” Dan agrees, tapping along to the chorus. “That and Stand By Me. Oh god, and Champagne Supernova, too.”

Phil grins at that, and leans forward, picking his phone up from the dashboard. Before Dan has a chance to question him, the chorus stops dead in its tracks, and an acoustic softness follows the sudden silence, a series of guitar chords that are just that bit too familiar. He grins.

“I always think the intro sounds a bit like Wonderwall,” Phil comments, putting his phone down and leaning back in the seat.

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, leaning back in his own seat and turning his gaze to the city beneath them, staring at lights and roads and buildings until they pool into a hazy amber blur in his vision.

How many special people change,

How many lives are living strange,

Where were you while we were getting high?

Slowly walking down the hall,

Faster than a cannonball

Where were you while we were getting high?

 Someday you will find me,

Caught beneath the landslide,

In a champagne supernova in the sky.

Someday you will find me,

Caught beneath the landslide,

In a champagne supernova;

A champagne supernova in the sky.

They don’t say anything, instead letting Liam Gallagher do the talking, but sly glances are exchanged from under brown fringes and black eyelashes.

-

“Nice up here, isn’t it?”

It’s only until Phil breaks the silence they’ve lapsed into that Dan realises the song has drawn to a close. He slides his gaze from the city and over to Phil, over to his thoughtful stare skating along the skyline, the ruffled sweep of black hair coating his fringe, and the orange glow of a cigarette tip poking out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes flicker over to Dan’s.

Dan looks back over to the city.

“Yeah.”

“I always come up here.”

“I can see why.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes a little look over the city is just what you need to clear your head. It just puts everything in perspective, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dan swallows. “It really does.”

There’s a litter of thoughts and worries in his mind, buried deep and multiplying with every day that drags past, every day that pulls him closer and closer to the production, to the hundreds of burning stares in the audience seats, to his colleague’s lips. He’s been longing for a break from it. Just a few hours of silence, a few quiet moments that don’t have to be spent combing over every single thought in his head, thinking and thinking until it inflates into anxiety, spilling into the pit of his stomach and clawing at the edges as it goes.

And the more he counts the city lights, the more he feels the cold night air stroke his cheeks and the engines reverberating around the car park levels beneath them, the more he reckons a more few nights up here. It’s the remedy he needs; just him, Phil and the lights.

Their eyes meet seconds after, and Dan can feel the question he’s vowed to ask Phil before the end of the night already beginning to rest on his lips, on the cusp of speech.

“When can we do this again?”

-

The late nights begin to pass more frequently in a spinning blur of city nights, passenger seats and conversations, all whispers and cold air and stolen glances. Dan can feel himself unravelling like a threadbare blanket, his carefully constructed personas and characters fraying at the edges with every hour spent up on the top of the city with a boy whose lips spill truths like water, and it isn’t long until Dan finds cracks in his paper personalities and begins to feel more and more honesty begin to seep through. He finds that no, he doesn’t have to spin false anecdotes like cotton and lie about his interests and find a way of linking everything back to acting, hooking every little quirk and element to his personality back to the stage. He doesn’t have to impress Phil with his knowledge of Hollywood throughout the years and he doesn’t have to act like he loves things he’s never actually heard of and he doesn’t have to lock his feelings away and throw away the key.

He doesn’t have to pretend.

-

It’s all okay until they fall onto the topic of previous relationships.

It’s been a good night. They’d visited the car park again, but this time without the car (it was warm enough to leave it in the driveway and make their own way up the concrete staircases, glass bottles in plastic bags clinking around their legs). They’d situated themselves in the very same parking space, the one second to the right and next to a beacon, but they’d traded car seats for a picnic blanket, headlights for phone torches and gear sticks for bottle openers.

“Yeah, like- fuck, she wasn’t a good kisser at all, was Mary. I mean- we were in year nine and she tried, bless her, and God knows so did I. But you know, with that as my first impression of kissing, when it was over I was like ‘what the fuck is all the fuss about?’” Phil chuckles, and Dan pretends to grin.

“Yeah, I mean-“ he shrugs, staring down at his lap. “I’ve had my fair share of bad kisses in my time.”

The ease with which the lie rolls off of his tongue almost takes him by surprise. It’s been a while since he’s lied about himself to Phil, and it feels strange.

“I can imagine,” Phil says, before frowning. “But you’re an actor. So you must be an excellent kisser, right? What with all the practice you guys have.”

Dan frowns, looking up from his bottle. “You what?”

“Oh come on. I saw what went on in the back of that car last term. Eddie and Alexandra. That play involved more lip-on-lip action than the fucking Notebook.”

Dan smiles at that, remembering the play adaptation they actually did of that when he was in year ten. He doesn’t quite know whether to laugh or cry over the sheer amount of starring roles he’s had that are heavily eloped in some kind of romantic storyline.

“Us actors have our techniques,” he says carefully.

Phil’s eyes widen at that. “You do? Like what?”

Dan shrugs, taking another sip of beer. “Oh, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Phil shuffles closer, a flicker of eagerness in his cerulean stare and shit, Dan’s beginning to regret opening his mouth now. “Come on. What techniques do you have? I could use a few tips myself.”

Dan raises an eyebrow, his eyes firmly locked onto the spread of amber lights in front of them.

“I doubt you’d ever want to use these kinds of techniques on anyone,” he says, a hint of humour drying his speech. “I imagine stage-kissing on a real date would be quite a deal-breaker.”

“Stage kissing, huh?” Phil widens his eyes. “How does that differentiate from a real kiss, then?”

“Well,” Dan takes another sip of his drink, his vision beginning to slow down. “First of all, it’s not really a kiss at all.”

“Huh?” Phil frowns.

“I mean- not usually. There are different kinds of stage-kisses, but most of them don’t involve, you know,” he smirks, reusing Phil’s rather vulgar term of “lip-on-lip action”.

“So you guys don’t actually kiss?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. “Nope.”

“But-… how does that work?”

Alcoholic courage swims through Dan’s veins at that. He glances at Phil.

The words are a whisper, a dare almost, and it isn’t until Phil nods that Dan realises he’s actually said it out loud.

“Want me to show you?”

“Yeah, go on,” Phil’s tone is casual, soft almost, but his eyes are glittering.

“Okay, well- come over here,” he beckons.

Phil does as he’s told, shuffling up on his knees until he’s facing Dan.

“One of the actors needs to have their back to the audience,” Dan says. “So, let’s say the wall over there is the audience,” he nods over Phil’s shoulder to the stretch of concrete watching them.

“Alright. The wall’s the audience. Now what?”

“Now,” Dan gulps, feeling his heart begin to pick up the pace because shit, this is really happening now. “So, what you do is, like, just lean in normally for a kiss, but stop just as your lips are about to touch.”

Phil scoffs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Look, do you want me to show you or not?”

“Nah, nah, I’m kidding,” Phil says. “C’mon, then. Show me how it’s done in Hollywood.”

“You dick,” Dan mumbles, but he’s leaning in.

Phil gets closer, his face begins to crawl up to Dan’s until their noses are brushing and his fringe is a tickle on Dan’s cheek and his breath mixes with Dan’s own, warm and languid through parted lips and fuck, Dan’s heart is really thudding now. His legs feel like jelly and his lungs feel like fire and there’s something warm and fiery swirling in the pit of his stomach, something alien, something that he’s certainly never felt before with any other colleague he’s come this agonisingly close to kissing.

They stay there for what feels like minutes, lips hovering, warmth tingling and the city still thundering beneath them, and it’s Phil who pulls away first.

“Impressive,” he smiles, eyes glittering with nonchalance. “Frustrating, but impressive. Is that your go-to one, then?”

It takes three swigs of beer to calm Dan down before he can speak again.

“I mean- um, yeah. Though sometimes if you’re, like, sitting really far over to the side in the audience you might be able to tell that they’re not actually kissing, so,” he shrugs. “It just depends on the stage, I guess.”

“Right,” Phil nods, swigging from his own bottle. “You, er- you mentioned a few other types, right?”

The thought of coming that close to Phil’s lips again sends the strange flame of warmth flooding back into Dan’s stomach. He all but chokes on his mouthful of drink.

“Er- yeah,” he stutters. “There are a few others,” he gulps again and shit, what’s up with him?

Dan doesn’t really know what’s happening, doesn’t know why being within a metre radius of this guy is already making him feel far more than he’d ever felt with any colleague, kissing or not, but it doesn’t stop him from beckoning the older boy over and showing him kiss number two, their lips locked together with nothing except Dan’s thumb in between them. He can feel the warmth of Phil’s mouth against his skin, the hot movement of Phil’s breath through his nose and the tickle of his hair against his cheek again. When he parts his mouth, Dan feels the tiniest touch of lip against his. It’s only the very corner and can’t have lasted for longer than a millisecond, but the feeling comes back like a spark to a flame and he’s beginning to find it difficult to balance and oh, shit.

They break apart, eyes searching each other’s, and it’s the first time Dan’s feeling like this post-‘kiss’ without having to throw on a character like an old shirt. He doesn’t have to follow anything up with someone else’s speech, with a fake accent and a stupid costume and a mannerism that doesn’t quite fit.

For once, he doesn’t feel like he has to act.

Phil narrows his eyes after a few silent seconds, fighting back a smirk.

Dan frowns, the post-stage kiss high beginning to melt away.

“What?”

“Is that seriously it?” Phil says.

“Yeah,” Dan moves away, trying to ignore the surge of electricity he had felt upon edging within a few millimetres of the other boy’s lips, the city a roar beneath them.

“I don’t know why I feel so disappointed,” Phil smirks. “From where I sit, looking at you lot doing all your stuff down on the stage, it looks a whole sight more realistic than that.”

Dan looks back out to the city.

“Yeah, well,” he says, feeling his heart slow down. “Acting isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

-

“So. You and Alexandra, eh?”

Dan glares at him. Dawn is beginning to throw pastel colours into the blackness of the sky. It’s still dark enough to see the stars, fainter twinkles against the sweep of indigo above them, but it’s light enough for them to see each other, to make out feint outlines of faces in the low pre-sunrise light, eyes half-lidded and shadowed from the sleepless hours. It must be pushing four in the morning, and they’ve been here since eleven o’clock, leaving their parents with promises that they’re spending the night round each other’s houses to make a few preparations for the play.

(If reciting Romeo’s Balcony Scene soliloquy through giggles and slightly drunken slurs counts as preparation, then at least half of that promise is true).

“We’re not an item,” Dan mumbles, taking a drag from his cigarette. It tastes strange, kind-of like dirt and ash and tar and he’s not a smoker and probably never will be, but Phil had offered him one and- well, fuck it.

“I know,” Phil says. “But you guys are performing in the round, aren’t you?” Phil narrows his eyes, and Dan swears he leans an inch or two closer before whispering, “your stage kisses won’t work from that angle, I’m telling you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Dan shuts his eyes. So far he’d been doing quite a grand job of pushing that worry to the back of his mind, burying it deep into his consciousness. The whole reason he’s up here altogether is to escape it.

Phil hesitates.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t you want to kiss Alexandra?”

Dan gulps, the taste of alcohol souring on his tongue a little.

“It’s not that,” he says. “I mean- a kiss is a kiss, right? It’s all part of the job, and-“

“But you don’t fancy her,” Phil says.

Dan frowns. “Well- no, of course not. She’s a colleague.”

“I know,” Phil says. “It makes a difference though, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“Kissing someone you don’t fancy. It’s weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Dan mumbles. It’s getting harder and harder to maintain this lie. “I- er, yeah. I usually stick to stage-kissing on the job, to be honest,” he shrugs. “It’s just easier than kissing someone you don’t really have feelings for.”

“Have you never, you know, properly kissed anyone before, then?”

Dan takes a deep breath. Lies can flow like water when he wants them to; he’s a master at concealing the truth behind a blanket of fabrication and deception, but there’s something about talking to Phil that makes falsehood sour on his tongue.

He lets it out in a deep sigh, feeling his chest deflate and his heart thud. Fuck it.

“You know what?,” he begins. “No. I haven’t. I don’t know if you can tell, but- yeah. I dunno, I guess that’s why I’m so stressed about this shit with Alexandra. And like- I know that probably makes me a fucking loser for never having kissed anyone at the age I am now, and probably even more of a loser that I want my first one to be with someone special, but- fuck, I don’t know,” he swallows, feeling the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen a little. “No. I haven’t. Okay?”

Phil doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip and averts his eyes down to the neck of his bottle. He fiddles with the loose cap, letting it fall through the spaces between his fingers with a sharp clink.

Dan doesn’t like that, doesn’t like the silence. The knot returns.

“What?”

“I- er- that wasn’t really what I meant,” Phil finally says.

The knot tightens.

“What do you mean it’s not what you meant?”

“I meant have you properly kissed anyone on stage before,” Phil glances up. “Not in general.”

Dan’s stomach drops. Oh fuck.

He open his mouth, but no speech follows. No amount of words can haul himself out of his hole now. Shit.

“I mean-“ he finally speaks again after a silence, and there’s a tremor in his voice that he desperately tries to smooth over. “Oh, shit,” he deflates, feeling the pit of his stomach begin to churn due to the abundance of the night’s alcohol. There’s no point trying to clamber out of the hole he’s just dug himself. He’ll only deepen it.

“Have you really never kissed anyone?” Phil asks in a quieter voice, but he doesn’t sound surprised. Or humoured. Or any other emotion Dan had feared. Just… curious. “Like, at all?”

Dan gulps, the beer a sour swirl in the pit of his stomach. Maybe the sixth bottle was a mistake.

“Well there’s no point denying it now, is there?” Dan finally mumbles, his eyes fixed on a dent in the concrete not far from where they’re sitting. “No. I haven’t.”

The gentle thrum of city engines fills the silence between them, and the three seconds Phil doesn’t say anything for might as well have been days.

“Yep,” Dan breaks the quietness once it borders on unbearable. “There you go. You think I’m a fucking weirdo now, don’t you?”

“Not at all,” Phil replies, and his voice is unusually calm. Dan looks up, his eyes meeting a soft expression, and for some reason he really didn’t expect Phil to react like this.

“So-“ Dan shakes his head. “What? You’re not gonna take the piss? Laugh at me? Say I’m a fucking weirdo that only lied to you to try and look cool?”

The truth scratches his heart, but it needs to be said.

“Why the fuck would I laugh at you?” Phil frowns, and there’s something about the sincerity in his voice that, beneath the turmoil, Dan finds weirdly comforting.

“I mean,” Phil begins. “I’m surprised, don’t get me wrong. Only because you’re an actor and- well, let’s face it, you’re fucking gorgeous too, but-“ he shakes his head. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m the first to say I’d much rather make sure my first kiss means something. If anything, I agree with you on that.”

“You’re not pissed off that I lied to you?” Dan gulps down another mouthful of lukewarm alcohol.

“Of course not, you twat,” Phil says. “I mean, I get why you did, but there was no need to. Really.”

“I know,” Dan sighs, picking at the label on his glass bottle until the paper frays at the edges.

“Wanna know something?” Phil says, his eyes not moving from the soft sweep of stars above them, dimmed by the early morning light.

Dan takes his eyes away from the sky. “What?”

“If you’re a liar, then so am I,” Phil tells the stars.

Dan frowns. “You what?”

Phil’s eyes flick back down to earth, meeting Dan’s gaze. “I lied too.”

Dan gulps, his heart thudding. “About what?”

Phil forces a chuckle, but it’s drained of humour. “Do I have to spell it out to you? I haven’t kissed anyone either.”

The words ring in Dan’s ears moments after, Phil’s voice an echo above the roar of the city below.

“Wait-…” is the only word that passes Dan’s lips in the next passing minute or so. “But-…”

“Yeah,” Phil shrugs. “Turns out you’re not the only one, are you?”

“But-…” Dan shakes his head. “Why did you lie about it too?”

Phil just shrugs and says, “same reasons you did.”

Dan tries, he really tries, to comb through the tangle of confusion in his mind right now, but the best response he can come up with after a moment or two of silence isn’t the most articulate.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, and they descend into quietness again.

“Shame, isn’t it?” Phil is the first to break the silence. “That we feel the need to lie about that.”

“It’s society’s fault for making us feel as if being over the age of about fifteen without having shoved a tongue down anyone’s throat is a failure.”

Phil grimaces. “I’ve never understood the attraction of that, you know. Like, I get making out and stuff, but why would you want to literally devour the person next to you? When I saw kissing scenes as a kid I thought they were actually trying to eat each other.”

“I know,” Dan takes a sip of beer, the alcohol slipping down with a little more ease now. “It sounds grim. I don’t know how people do it. At least with acting on stage you don’t have that problem.”

“True,” Phil mirrors his actions, pulling his drink away from his lips and tracing the rim of the bottle with the tip of his thumb, staring down the tube-shaped glass into the remains of the flat beer, swimming lukewarm and flat at the bottom of the bottle. Only when he glances up a few seconds later does Dan realise he’s been staring.

Dan smirks.

“What are you grinning at?”

“Just-…” he shakes his head and shit, he’s definitely had enough to drink tonight. He can feel the alcohol-induced honesty begin leaking through his parted lips and he knows he’ll probably end up saying something he’ll regret tomorrow morning but- oh, fuck it. “The thought of you having never kissed anyone. It just- doesn’t make sense to me like- look at you. How?”

He’s not really sure where the line between a compliment and a very sorry attempt at flirting is drawn but he’s pretty sure he’s fallen somewhere in the middle.

Phil’s gaze lingers a few seconds too long. “I could ask you the same thing. I mean- come on, look at you. A guy like you must have been drowned in opportunities.”

They’re both a bit too drunk, a bit too cold and there’s something about the atmosphere of an empty car park at fuck-knows-o’clock that warps reality just a little. Dan blinks and the city lights don’t unblur and he feels a bit like he’s in a dream.

“Yeah, I-…” he shrugs. “I’ve had my fair share of offers, I won’t lie.”

“I’ll bet,” Phil interjects, and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t either,” Dan rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking. “I just-… yeah, I dunno. I didn’t really wanna waste it, but I never really found someone I liked enough.”

“That’s nice, that is,” Phil says, and though Dan scours his tone of voice for a trace of sarcasm or mockery, but Phil’s eyes glitter earnestly. “No, like, really. Most teenagers just, you know, dive straight into it. Slam their face against anything with a pulse that crosses their path. But the fact you care enough to wait,” he glances up, eyeing the boy beside him carefully. “That’s rare. Kinda admirable in a way.”

“Were you the same, then?”

Phil nods without any hesitation. “A hundred percent.”

Dan nods understandingly, taking another sip of beer, and the two of them watch the town sleep for a quiet moment before Phil speaks up again.

“Oh, come here,” he stretches out his arms. “You look like you’re seconds away from hypothermia, for Christ’s sake.”

Dan leans into his chest, closing his eyes and snuggling into the Topman denim of Phil’s jacket. “I don’t really think a car park roof is the most suitable drinking spot,” he mumbles, his speech slightly obscured by his rattling jaw.

“Not at five a.m. in December at least,” Phil says. “It’s a lot nicer in summer, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Dan says, and the indirect promise that they’ll come out here and do this again makes Phil smile.

It’s quiet, serene and blue, and Dan loses count of the minutes that drip by until he hears Phil’s voice again, shattering his trance dancing on the fragile edge of drunken consciousness.

“Dan?” it’s only a half-whisper, but it still makes him jump.

The younger boy turns his head, his brown hair tousling against Phil’s denim chest until they’re eye-to-eye.

Phil lowers his gaze, but this time his eyes don’t flicker back up to Dan’s. Dan parts his mouth in response, but before he can say anything, there’s a surge forward and a soft pair of lips on his.

A jolt of adrenaline, shock, and a general ‘holy-fucking-shit-this-can’t-be-happening’ feeling shimmers through his body as he kisses back, and despite his embarrassing inexperience when it comes to anything remotely romantic, his lips move perfectly in time with Phil’s, their mouths melting together in flawless harmony.

Phil’s the one to break away, and Dan misses his lips the second the cold morning air touches his mouth. He frowns, studying Phil’s expression half-hidden by his mop of black hair, but the older boy refuses eye contact.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came ov-“

“Don’t apologise,” Dan cuts him off immediately, his hand hovering over Phil’s arm in quiet protest. “Just-…” he gulps. “Do it again,”

Phil’s head snaps up, his eyes boring into the brown stare in mild confusion.

“Please,” Dan mouths, and Phil doesn’t need to be told twice.

They kiss for longer, deeper, slightly parted lips and slow breathing and the teal glow of 5am light and shit, this was certainly worth a seventeen year wait. Phil’s lips feel like warmth and taste like tobacco and he feels a gentle comb of shy fingertips through his hair and yep, he can definitely see what all the fuss is about now.

When they break apart for the second time, all blushes and broken breaths, they’re both grinning. Phil drops his gaze with a bashful chuckle.

“Well,” Dan breathes. He’s still sitting close, their upper arms touching but neither of them really wanting to move away.

“Well,” Phil says, almost in agreement. They’re bathed in silence once again, but this time it’s comfortable.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Dan begins, looking out over the city. “That was definitely worth the wait.”

Phil tilts his head down, their noses almost touching. “Yeah?”

“For sure,” Dan cranes his neck up a little and pecks Phil’s lips again. The other boy grins, pulling his jacket further over Dan’s shoulders.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime then, won’t we?” Phil’s eyes glitter.

Dan grins, glancing at the view spread in front of them. The sun is beginning to awaken and there are fewer streetlights illuminating the land below and it’s cold and wow, they should really think about heading home soon. Dan hasn’t checked his phone in hours and he’s sure it can’t be running on anything much more than a measly four percent.

“Definitely,” he says, then hesitates. “Although, well.”

“Well what?”

Dan flicks his eyes up at the boy above him, tired brown against weary blue.

“Perhaps next time we should choose somewhere a little warmer than a car park,” he says in a soft voice, before adding, “I can barely feel my arse right now.”

Phil bursts out laughing, and then a pair of lips are on his for the third time.

-

The next couple of weeks rush by in a flurry of rehearsals, meetings, crumpled scripts and weird costumes that itch around the collar. Dan and Phil spend most of their time three storeys apart, meaning secret rendezvous up in the control room or down in the trap room are often necessary. The closer the big day creeps, the hotter the atmosphere becomes with stress, so it’s nice to leave the tension with the stage and the equally tense co-workers and escape for a bit.

“For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, and never from this palace of dim night depart aga- oh for fuck’s sake, you’re not even listening.”

Phil looks up from his phone, a giggling smirk still lingering on his face. “Huh?”

“Come on, Phil. You said you’d go through this with me and you’re sat there playing around with bloody Snapchat filters.”

“Sorry, sorry – I am listening, it’s just-“ his eyes flicker back down to the screen in front of him. “That’s hideous. Who even makes these filters? I look like a toe.”

“Can unflattering photos of you not wait five minutes until I’ve finished this? We’re literally nearly done anyway. We only have, like, one more paragraph to g-” Phil interrupts him by flipping the phone around to face the other boy. A bald, rather unsightly version of Phil with weird eyes stares back. Dan’s eyes widen in horror. “Fuck, that really is hideous.”

“I know,” Phil shudders. “I didn’t even know my face could do that,” he glances back at the screen and pulls a couple of experimental faces. “Would you still be with me if I looked like that?”

“Nope,” Dan replies semi-seriously, rolling his eyes when Phil pouts.

“What about if I looked like this?” Phil turns the phone around. He looks a lot better this time, but a little bit too much like an animal. Dan’s never really understood the national attraction towards ‘dog filters’.

“Probably. The ears might get in the way a bit, though,” he chuckles, before urging, “now come on. We haven’t got long left now.”

Phil agrees, albeit reluctantly. He swings his legs off the table, grabs Dan’s battered highlighted mess of a script sitting in front of him and they pick up from where they left off, something about ‘worms that are thy chamber maids’, ‘everlasting rest’ and ‘inauspicious stars’ (whatever the fuck that adjective means). They last a grand total of fifteen seconds before Dan’s voice is interrupted by a shriek of laughter.

“Oh, fucking hell that’s bad!” Phil cackles. Dan groans, wondering for a fleeting second where the best place to launch Phil’s phone might be.

“That’s it,” he loses it, suddenly leaping across the table and swiping the irritating rectangle of interest straight from Phil’s hand. His smile vanishes in seconds.

“Aw, what?!”

“You have five seconds to put this stupid fucking thing away, or else it’s going out there,” he points to the window behind them. Phil follows his gaze, his eyes widening. They can see the majority of the town from up here. That’s a long drop.

He turns his head back around. They’re nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye.

“Fine,” Phil smiles, the tips of their noses brushing together. “But just so you know, seeing you angry just makes me want to kiss you more.”

Dan rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his smirk. “Are you still gonna want to kiss me when your phone ends up on the ground?”

“What do you mean ‘when’? I’ve put it away now,” he points to the bulge in his back pocket.

Dan fixes him with a glare.

“Come on,” Phil leans forward as Dan leans back. “Just one?” he pleads, his eyes big and blue.

He shakes his head and pulls away, a grin curling at his lips. His eyes flicker back to Phil, a brown gaze that lingers too long.

“Afterwards,” he says in a voice like velvet.

Phil rolls his eyes, flopping back onto the chair. “Fine. Bloody hell, it’s like being back at school.”

Dan pretends not to hear that last comment. “Come on, we’ll take it from “world-wearied flesh…”

Phil’s phone doesn’t move once from his pocket after that. The promise of Dan’s lips after rehearsal is more tempting than any filter some dumb app has to offer.

-

“How do I look?”

Phil eyes him up and down, a smirk playing at his lips. “Hot.”

The comment receives a soft punch to his upper arm.

“Behave,” Dan turns back to the mirror, twining a lock of perfectly sprayed hair that he was specifically instructed not to touch around his fingers. “Are you sure? I feel like I look like a-“

He’s interrupted by a pair of soft lips for a few seconds.

“That’s really not helping the nerves,” Dan breathes once they break away.

Phil grins. “You look fine. You know you do. Now quit playing with your hair before Alexa sees.”

Dan doesn’t think Alexa, the make-up artist, is capable of seeing anything that isn’t within a thirty-centimetre radius of her own face right now. She’s been hurrying around backstage all evening; powdering this, curling that, flitting from actor-to-actor so quickly it makes Dan out of breath to even watch her. She certainly hasn’t done a bad job though, he thinks, as he inspects his reflection. A slightly dishevelled, 15th-century version of himself stares back, all weird leather and burgundy velvet and wow, perhaps he should sport an Elizabethan tunic more often.

“Suits you,” Phil smiles as if he’d read his mind. Dan adjusts the collar accordingly.

“D’you reckon?”  

“Yeah,” Phil eyes him up and down again. “Most people here kinda look like twats in their costume, but you really actually pull that off.”

“Um- thanks? I think?” Dan smirks, frowning at his reflection. He doesn’t mention it has anything to do with his long-standing ability to morph into literally anyone he likes (he’d often been described by many make-up artists as having a “chameleon face” which he hopes is a reference to his adaptability to blend into multiple characters as opposed to resembling a lizard), and instead accepts the ever-so-slightly backhanded compliment.

“What are you doing down here?” someone with an updo the size of Jupiter asks Phil, sauntering past in something that really rather resembles a cupcake. Phil was right, Dan thinks. They do look a bit ridiculous. ���They need you upstairs in five minutes.”

“Oh shit,” Phil glances at his watch. “Okay. Gotta go before Nick kills me.”

“Alright,” Dan smiles, pulling him in for a quick hug.

“Good luck,” he whispers into his shoulder. “You’ll fucking kill it.”

Dan tightens his grip around his arms. “Thank you.”

The word has multiple other meanings, and judging by the glitter in Phil’s eye when he pulls away, he thinks he understands every single one.

-

That night, Dan lavishes in warm spotlights and painted wooden sets resembling palaces and balconies, and he feels alive.

That night, the finest Elizabethan literature spills from his lips, flowing as easily as water, his voice shaping every monologue, soliloquy and duologue perfectly.

That night, there are another pair of lips on his; only this time painted red and totally professional. It feels strange, alien, and not a single trace of the spark in his heart that Phil’s lips ignite can be found, but it’s work. It’s courage.

And that night, someone up in the control booth watches through the pane of glass over all the light boards and buttons and wires, and smiles.

As if it’s been almost a year since my last oneshot??? Wtf this must CHANGE I’m getting back into writing (properly this time I swear) so there’s a lot more where this came from. Feedback is always appreciated whether it be good or bad so pls let me know how you found this! Feels so good to be doing this again u have nooo idea holy shit <3

[justtwilightshitposts-blog]

So I got high as fuck and watched Twilight for the first time in 6 years and made a list of the thoughts running through my head. Anyways it’s under the cut, enjoy lol

Dramatic entry....

I don’t understand what she’s saying

Oh my god look at her stupid fucking cactus it’s so small and dumb

Why does she sound so miserable

Charlie her hair?? Really??

How is their house so big with one fucking bathroom

Charlie really had someone else decorate her room omg

Why is he such a good fucking dad. I want to cry

“Still dancin”..... aight, billy 

Jacob looks so fucking angsty

She’s so excited about this huge ugly piece of shit truck how is she straight

Did it ever get explained in the series where the fuck Jacob goes to school

“Nice ride” ahah SOOOO FUNNY

I don’t remember his name but why is he such a try hard

*Ball comes at Bella* bella: fUCK

Jessica: stay the FUCK away from my man

Jessica you weird

Mike stop

Who tf is that dude omg he just took his fucking chair

“FEATURES DEAD, ANGELA”

Oh my god Jess when she says eating disorders aakkskakdn

This background music does not fit the characters

Yeah they live together omg

How convenient. A family full of people who fuck each other except ONE

HIS FUCKING STARE

Why they got a fan in the classroom

No introduction to the new kid? Unrealistic. Blocked.

Stop staring at each other what the shit bruh

Just jump tf out the classroom damn

Edward trying to slam the door omggg

How she gonna know you Santa when you dressed normal, tf

Just grab the ketchup

Jesus Christ just talk to each other

Goodbye cell phone then

Day one and you’re doing homework ok

Why is Edward so fucking cringey

He couldn’t handle it so he just stayed home fucking pussy

They just straight up threw a fucking rock at her

Things were getting strange AFTER he stops going to school hmmmmm?

Seriously their house is good sized

This bitch just fucking ate shit what a clumsy gay

“You’re not in Phoenix anymore”

“I need your playlist”

Why is EVERYONE hitting on Bella. She doesn’t even look straight

“Hello” bruuhhhh

His voice, TF

What is the golden onion

Why does he talk like... that

Bonding over science. Haha. Get it. Bonding

“How’s the weather”

Cold n wet. Cool

He laughin. Lmao

Aw his smile

I feel so awkward watching this conversation

Why doesn’t this bitch just sit tf still Jesus Christ

“Wait hOLD UP why didn’t you go with your mom and Phil just curious haha I’m just trying to analyze you no biggie”

The fluorescents. Walks away. ????

How tf did this mf even manage to almost crash like what. How did it even happen

He out this mf

Everyone just like. Sat there for so long not doing anything??? Then BAM OMG BELLA ALSKAJNCKDO”

Carlisle is so fucking white Jesus

Did she never notice his eyes are the same color as Edwards

Fuckin snitch omg Carlisle is not happy

“Hey ex wife our daughter almost died lol call me back”

They are really just arguing in the middle of the hospital tf?

I was standing right next to you....

why does he look like that

Rude ass tf?

Edgy moon

Tf she dreaming about

Wait so like he didn’t even start out with anything low key he just straight up fucking watched her sleep after knowing her a week

God why does he look like that. All the time

Poor mike oh my god

She’s lived here a week how does she already have plans conveniently the night of prom. Get a better excuse Bella

Recycled tea

Why is he so fucking creepy “what’s in Jacksonville” mf HOW you know

Rude ass again what the shit

Why would Bella care if you go to prom with mike, Jessica

“We shouldn’t be friends” no one said you were???

“Our bus is full” 💀

Call your fucking mother you asshole

Charlie don’t talk about Phil

She just walks tf out lmaoooo

How did anyone NEVER say anything about them NEVER eating lunch

La PUSH

He just bounced a fuckin apple

Stop being so cryptic what the fuck

“Let’s say for arguments sake that I’m not smart” bitch me too the fuck

“What if I’m... the villain” shut up you fucking emo oh my god

Come to the beach lol

This is all so awkward

Why did they like hardly ever show Angela

“You’re a strong independent woman” how do people think she’s straight

“The Cullen’s don’t come here” so fucking dramatic

“Yeah yeah whatever enough of you, what about the CULLENS”

Wait. How long have the Cullen’s been around? How long ago was the treaty made???

This music is so fucking dramatic

Oh no it’s Santa....

These bitches gay as fuck too James looks so fucking gay

How is it the entire time she’s trying to figure out the Cullen’s not ONCE does she question the quilietes being descended from FUCKING WOLVES

All these prom dresses boring as fuck

Like what the fuck even is that material

Jess is fucking... phat

“Sorry I don’t do prom dresses I just like really wanna go to this bookstore”

I don’t even want to know what would have happened if Edward didn’t come get her from these creeps...

She legit is about to get gang raped and like. No one ever said anything about this guys what the fuck

Why does Edward look like a fucking crack addict

“Sorry I just REALLY wanna murder these guys”

You should put YOUR seat belt on

“Yeah were gonna do everything that consists of a date but it’s not a date ok?”

No way that tiny bitch is gonna eat that whole ass plate

I’m gonna make sure YOU eat but I won’t alright?

Fucking math nerd

How DID he know she was there???

“I feel very protective of you even though I’ve known you for like less than a month”

He can read minds it’s no biggie

“Cat” bitch me too!!!

I can’t read YOUR mind tho sorry

Wait so why are certain vampires given gifts?

I don’t wanna stay away from you anymore lol

Ooooo our dads are here

“Animal attack” *GLARE*

“Idk what to say I’m so sorry”

Charlie STOP MY HEART IS FUCKING BREAKING

Animals are attacking and you give her pepper spray?

Why tf did they roll his whole ass body out in plain view why the hell was he not in a body bag!!!!

“Oh OKAY everything is starting to come together”

What is this dramatic dream where he’s all emo drinking her blood what the fuck is happening

“Follow me into the woods just trust me”

I don’t find it believable that he speaks like he’s from a different time. His dialect would change with time. Imagine him in 2018 fuckin yeet this and dab that lmaoooo

Why when he runs his legs move and nothing else

How fast are they even going

Diamonds are a girls best friend. And vampires.

“I’m a killer” on cool aha I’m just chillin alone in the woods with u haha no biggie

Why are you being so dramatic Edward

He just yeeted that fucking rock lol

“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone until you”

You’re my drug....

his voice is cracking me tf up

“I’m not afraid of you I’m afraid of losing you” you fucking emo

I want to die

I zoned out an all I heard was “sick masochistic lion” .... alright

Let’s just lay in the grass in the middle of the fucking woods it’ll be cute!!!

Do they just. Stare at each other and not talk...

Why do they use sound effects for his skin lmao

“My crush is a vampire lol ❤️”

What’s Monte Carlo

Everyone is staring lmaoooo

The siblings are not happy lmao

Why would you turn someone into a vampire like there is no logical reason to be like “you’re dying so I’m gonna make you live FOREVER”

They’re just chillin in the rain lmao

Literally tho like being a vampire would be pointless and fucking torture Jesus Christ why would you force that on a dying person

“Wanna meet the fam lol jk u have no choice”

The fucking stare down between Edward and Jacobs dad I’m fucking deceased

“Just keepin it real, son” broooo

Does anyone remember at one point in this series Edward and Jacob just fucking switched Bella off like what the shit was that was I just hallucinating

They cooked for her :(

How long has it been since they cooked

Esme is my soul mate

We NEVER use the kitchen

Jesus CHRIST Rosalie chill the FUCK out

Calm down you FUCKING drama queen

Please don’t kill me lol

Alice you Sapphic ass coming in on a fuckin tree branch

“Bella and I are gonna become great friends” does... does she KNOW. You know bc she can see the future

Alice is so cheery oh god

I too would be dramatic enough to frame all of my several graduation caps

I don’t... sleep

Like he doesn’t even need a chair like their legs never get tired. If they wanted to they could just stand every second of every day

Edward it is the 21st century catch up on the tunes, man

The face she made when he twirled her lmaooo

“I’ll MAKE you dance” .... alright

Why did they like. Move midair

This tree jumping shit just does not look scientifically accurate

“This kind of stuff just doesn’t exist” ... the woods?

Let’s sit in a fucking tree and just talk forever

I wonder who wrote the song Edward wrote. It’s actually... good???

Why is the footprint on top of this fucking mound of dirt lol

Hey hey you You I don’t like your boyfriend

I would kill for Charlie

No one like ACTUALLY questions why a HUMAN foot print is found in the murder scene

“Go SOCIALIZE”

He just fucking comes out of nowhere fuck

How much time does this movie take the course over “only the last couple months” ????

“There’s always something I wanted to try” *kisses bella* you gonna tell me you’re 100+ years old and a virgin???????

This kissing scene must have been so awkward

He just fucking. Zooms back into the wall

Does Charlie not hear any of this???

Edward. She needs to sleep bro

I’m sorry but if my partner never slept I would never sleep with them like don’t fucking watch me sleep the shit???

He just fucking loves his gun

What is he doing over his head ??

We’re just gonna play a family game of baseball lol

Charlie cares so much :(

Charlie doesn’t even question that they’re going to play baseball in a thunderstorm

The baseball scene is in my top iconic scenes in cinematic history

Why do they keep the field so small if they hit the ball so far ???

Emmet my fuckboy baby

When emmet and Edward collide. Iconic.

These gay ass Mfers and their dramatic entrances

Why is putting her hair up going to help. It’s not her hair they smell it’s her blood? Right??

Vampires just go around claiming territory??

All around America??

James knows

Why do they hiss....

The fucking Cullen clan all just bend their knees and hiss like what the shit

“I can buckle MYSELF Edward”

This all went 0-100 real quick

Edward step up your acting game. Monotone ass mf

Charlie is so fucking confused

What even is she grabbing

Ok but Charlie’s so supportive of her and like all he cares about is her being safe oh my god

And he never knows that she didn’t mean any of what she said :((((((

That would fucking kill me oh my god poor Charlie

When they land on her truck... where are they coming FROM...

“Her kind” ... gingers?

Rosalie has a point...

Laurent was just a third wheel

Why do they drive so fast

How the hell was Bella even going to explain this to her mom??? What was her plan.

James.... Jesus your fucking face...

How did he get into the high school

You fucking dumbass you just gonna. Fight a fucking vampire? What is her plan? Fight him? Show up and take her mom and get out???

Also how did she even sneak past Alice and jasper

Wait how did he get this video

You dumb as shit bitch!!!

You can’t fight a vampire the fuck!!!

Why is the part where James shoved Edward against the mirror so sexually tense

This whole fucking ballet studio scene is just too dramatic

Why is she convulsing tho. Is that how it is when you turn into a vampire??? You fucking have a seizure???

Alice fucking SNAPPED

This whole series could have ended right here if they just let her fucking change into a vampire right then and there

Shut the fuck up and suck, Edward

Why her face look like.... that

Carlisle just PUSH HIM

Why are the tubes like ON her eyeballs

Edward sleeping... ha

The whole falling down the stairs bullshit story is so fucking ridiculous lmaoooo

“You’re texting” this movie is so old

Which leg is broken???

I almost killed you lol sorry. Also get the fuck out of Forks

Bella: *insert lady from lipstick in valentino bag vine*

Ok so her right leg is in the cast but in the hospital she was chillin in the bed with her right leg bent?

Jacob where did you come from lmao

“My dad paid me to come talk to you”

“Also you need to break up with your boyfriend”

The instant tension between Edward and Jacob and Bella is so fucking oblivious

“The wolves descend” REALLY EDWARD

Was their senior prom ever mentioned in the series???

She’s so fucking short omg

This music: A++

No seriously what is with everyone’s dresses being so ugly

“I want you always” bitch you just met like 2 months ago???

Bella is so desperate for the dick that she wants to become a fucking vampire

She actually thought he was gonna bite her at prom lmao????

They kiss so awkwardly

Victoria looks so jealous

And hot

Where is she going

Oh it’s over ok cool gn

[nagareboshi22]

Ok so I had a dream about Klance, but Lance in general. Imma put it under a cut cuz it’s kind of long lol. Gets angsty so you’re warned.

So in this dream, they're on this planet with humanoid civilians, and they've been there before from a previous mission. We're gonna call these civilians Rugrats. Anyways Lance and Keith are sent on a mission with two Rugrat children that look like Phil and Lil from Rugrats lmao because apparently they had the power to extract the stone they needed to find.

Before they left the planet, a man gives Lance a weird communicator. It looked like a round vase and you gotta stick your head in it for it to work lmao. He told Lance to try it out, so he does, but when Lance pulls his head out, he's... different, and Keith notices it but can't put his finger on it.

They're all on what looks like a cargo ship, Keith is in his BoM suit, the kids are seated on the side while Keith and Lance co-pilot. Apparently, Lance says there's a code they can enter into the ship so the ship can just go straight to their destination automatically, basically coordinates. He tell Keith to punch them in, but they were wrong, so Lance is all "oh it must've been this" and they keep getting it wrong until the ship's panel overloads and the ship ultimately malfunctions. But the thing is, it malfunctions when they're passing by a sun.

The ship lurches and Lance hits his head against the panel, not hard enough to knock him out, but Keith notices that Lance is acting more like himself again. They’re all scared, because it’s their doom is obvious since the sun’s gravity is pulling them in, but instead of freaking out, Lance goes over to the crying kids and consoles them. Keith is a bit start struck because he’s seeing a side of Lance he’s never seen before, and when Lance comes back to his side with the kids hanging off him, they share a look before reaching out to each other to hold hands. Their world was coming to an end, but at least they were facing it together...EXCEPT THAT THEY WERE SAVED.

An orbiting planet passes by just in time, its gravity strong enough to pull their ship away from the sun and more towards it. They had to crash land on the planet but they were safe and that’s all that mattered to them! They had to look for another ship on the planet, but during their time on the planet, Lance was like a big brother to the Rugrats and Keith had the Soft Look™, and just when they were about to leave the planet on their new ship, Keith confesses his feelings to Lance. Lance is startled but very happy, and the share a quiet moment just holding hands before they board their ship with the kids. Keith then tells Lance to report to the others through the weird communicator, so he does, but when he pulls his head out, Lance is back to that strange cold and detached attitude. That’s when Keith decided to go back to the Rugrat planet because something is not right. Lance tries to stop him, but in the process they scuffle and Lance gets hit which snaps him out of whatever it is that’s making him act different. They figure out that it’s the communicator, so they destroy it before they head back to the Rugrat planet. 

When they get back, the others ask them if they found the stone, but Keith ignores them and asks Lance who gave him the communicator. When Lance points him out, Keith becomes visibly angry. Apparently the guy was the ex-king that Keith had the pleasure of dethroning the last time they were on the planet. When the Paladins round on him, he reveals that he was trying to kill off the Paladins, and he was going to use Lance to do so because he seemed like the dumbest one among them. 

That obviously wounds Lance a lot and infuriates Keith who, along with Pidge and Hunk, start fighting the ex-king. Shiro on the other hand stays back to console Lance, who says things like “He’s right you know. I’m just the 7th wheel, I’m not as smart or as strong or have anything to contribute to this team.” And Shiro was all “That’s not true Lance! You’re so valuable to this team, you mean so much to us. You’re the kindest, the most selfless, and funniest guy we know. You’re so self-sacrificing that it inspires but scares the rest of us because if we’re down, we know we can count on you to have our backs, even if it means your life.” It was super emotional, they were both crying and bruh in that moment in my dreams I was hyper aware that s7 is going to be super emotional lmao.

Anyways, after their heart to heart, Lance and Shiro join the fight, and the team is doing so well until suddenly the ex-king activates some powersuit that he’s been wearing. Sadly, he wipes the floor of them, and he goes on a villain rant of how he’s going to take back his planet and throne, but he needs to get rid of pests. The ex-king then points a gun at Allura, and suddenly I’m in Lance’s POV and I can hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears when the gun is pointed at Allura. I start running towards them, just as the ex-kin is saying “Starting with you!” I jump in front of Allura. I see the gun right in front of my eyes, the sound of it going off, and then everything goes white. I woke up after that and I just laid in bed thinking “bruh, Lance died.” I SAW HIM DIE THROUGH HIS EYES I WAS SO SAD.

[paradisobound]

Light in the Dark

Summary: Phil is the RA (Resident Advisor) for his local college where he manages the residents on the floor of his dorm building. But his junior year in college is about to take a turn when one of his residents, who’s named Dan, is blind. Soon, Phil develops a friendship with Dan as he soon discovers that they were meant for much more than just a platonic relationship. He just hopes that his Alpha abilities won’t scare away the timid Omega.

This is a chaptered work. This is chapter 8. 

Word Count: 2,222 (no, this was not planned lmao)

Warnings: medical disabilities (blindness). Mentions of smut. Mentions of alcohol. Underaged drinking. 

Authors Note: This is just a PSA to make sure all of my viewers know this: never take a drink from someone at a party! Make sure to either bring your own or drink from an unopened bottle. If you leave your drink somewhere, do not pick it back up. Leave it and get a new drink! This is just general knowledge that I want to spread because no one deserves to have their drink drugged! Also, never mix liquors together (i.e beer and wine). It will get you drunk faster but it can also lead to serious implications! This is just in reference to a certain middle section of this chapter but I want everyone to know this! Happy reading! :) 

Phil remembers this exact time the year before. His classes were beginning to pick up and he was already bombarded with a calendar full of due dates and homework. This year was no different.

It had been nearly two weeks since Dan fell asleep in his arms and Phil can admit that no progress has been made between them. But he knows that there is something going on inside Dan’s head. Dan’s body language has changed around him and Phil could have sworn the other day when they were hanging out again that Dan wanted to grab his hand and lean into him again.

Phil is scared of the feelings between them though. He didn’t want to get mixed up in another relationship just because of his past with Devon. But part of him is drawing into Dan, wanting Dan all to himself and never wanting him to leave.

But Phil didn’t want Dan to know that just yet.

Even as he and Dan walked with linked arms to the plaza off campus where Phil was going to buy Dan a real pizza and not just the frozen kind the cafeteria serves them. When he had asked Dan to lunch this morning after meeting up together briefly in the elevator, he got happiness at the blush that spread through Dan’s cheeks before he answered.

And now, they’re almost there and Phil is loving the way Dan’s arm squeezed his as they walked slowly to make sure Dan didn’t trip and fall. Phil had to admit he was kind of a shit guide and being clumsy himself didn’t help. But it didn’t seem like Dan minded. He just laughed it off.

As Phil opened the door for them and they walked in, they were first bombarded with the scent of coffee from the Dunkin Donuts that was in front of them. But then Phil hung a right and took them to the pizza shop where he guided Dan to a seat.

But as they were almost to a booth, a sudden grip on Phil’s arm stopped him. It was coming from the opposite arm that Dan was holding so he was confused as to who it was until he turned his head.

A mop of blonde hair came into his view.

Devon.

“Hey guys!” Devon announced cheerily. “What are you two doing here?”

Phil gritted his teeth, not wanting Dan to be associated with Devon in any way. Over the past week, his entire body just hated Devon. He’s ignored all of his texts and pleas. Devon even came to his dorm room and asked for favors with which Phil refused.

“Dan and I are getting lunch?”

“Phil?” Dan’s timid voice broke through. “Who is that?”

“No one.” Phil snapped.

“What the fuck do you mean no one?” Devon shouted. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Phil’s blood boiled through this veins and he let go of Dan momentarily, his hands gesticulating madly in front of him. “Leave me–us–alone!” He belted out, his Alpha voice shining through enough that Devon immediately cowered where he stood. And the whimpering next to him made him turn his head and see a very upset and distraught Dan who was whimpering, his lips shaking.

Phil let out a breath and smoothed back his hair in frustration. “You need to leave.” He said point blank to Devon.

Devon shook his head and took in a shuddering breath. “We had so much together and you’re going to throw it away from him?” He asked, his finger pointing to Dan.

“You threw it away long ago and I was stupid enough to keep letting you in.” Phil stated.

Devon let out a forced breath. He furiously wiped his cheeks before turning on his heels and stomping out of the door, back outside. Phil stood there, in the wake of the fight that had just occurred, unsure of what to do.

He’s never had to use his Alpha voice before and it just happened.

It happened and he scared everyone, including Dan.

Oh, yeah, Dan!

He quickly turned and looked at Dan, who was staring at the ground, his shoulders drooped and his body language sad. “Dan?” Phil asked. “What’s wrong?”

Dan didn’t look up. He just spoke softly. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Phil immediately answered. “What I said wasn’t meant for you. You shouldn’t have had to hear that.”

“Can you explain it to me later?” Dan asked. “I don’t like secrets.”

“I know, baby.” Phil winced at the slip of the pet name. He didn’t even know where it came from but it happened so naturally. He reached out and touched Dan’s arm. “Do you still want pizza?”

Dan didn’t answer for a moment. But then his little head bob told Phil he still wanted food. So Phil moved Dan to a seat in a booth and got in line to grab a small pizza for the both of them to eat.

Throughout lunch, Dan remained quiet. His unseeing gaze was fixed on the table and he showed no signs of moving it. Multiple times, Phil had the urge to move onto Dan’s side of the booth and just hold him until he calmed down. He knew Dan felt better when an Alpha touched his skin and held him.

But he knew that would have to be for later. And only if Dan wanted to. He didn’t know how Dan felt about him quite yet.

They finished their lunch in quiet but when they left, Dan took Phil’s arm again and they went back to the dorm building.

When they got to their floor, and began walking through the hallway, Phil stopped and asked him if he wanted to come back to his dorm room for a while and talk and Dan agreed. It surprised Phil that Dan wanted to go back with him after how scared he got. But he was glad.

It meant the Omega wasn’t totally afraid of him.

Phil unlocked the door to his room and brought Dan over to his bed where they both sat down and relaxed onto the stiff mattress. Dan took off his jacket in the process and let it slide to the floor as Phil removed his sweatshirt. As Phil laid back, Dan laid back too and cuddled next to him, which surprised Phil once again.

But then Dan spoke.

“Was that guy your boyfriend?” His voice was shy and timid. Unsure.

“No.” Phil said. “He was an ex.”

“An ex-boyfriend?” Dan asked.

“Yeah.”

“What was his name?” Phil smiled at Dan’s curiosity. He normally would have been annoyed at the prodding but with Dan, he was okay with it.

“His name was Devon.”

Dan’s hand came up and rested onto Phil’s shoulder.

“How long were you guys together?”

Phil sighed. “I’ll just tell you the whole story. But I warn you it’s kind of long.”

Phil didn’t want to be at this party. Okay, that was a total and complete lie. Of course he wanted to be at this upperclassman party, but he never expected himself to be invited. He guessed it paid off to have a roommate who was on the soccer team. And he was even more lucky that the party was at the soccer house tonight.

It was his first college party. He knew it was probably gonna be a mistake but he felt like if he didn’t go, he would have regretted it in the end. He didn’t want to be seen as one of the prude freshman who never let loose or have fun.

But as of right now, he wasn’t totally having fun. He didn’t know anyone here and everyone was packaged in like sardines. He didn’t even know where to go or where anything led to.

He saw a staircase in front of him, but it was lined with students making out on every step, some of them going further on a few of the steps. And to his side, he had a tell jock pushing a red cup to his hand. “Dude. You need to have a drink man. Your hand is empty!”

Phil took the drink and looked down at the weird colored liquor. He slowly lifted it to his lips and tasted. It was disgusting and strong. He coughed and sputtered, the taste wetting his lips. He didn’t like this.

Okay, maybe this was a mistake.

Phil left the cup somewhere on a mantle piece as he walked through the living room and somehow ended up in a less crowded kitchen with jocks pouring various liquor bottles into a giant punch bowl.

Okay, that spells disaster pretty quickly. But he grabbed a cup of it anyway from a way too drunk jock that sloshed it down his front in process. Good thing he was wearing his black shirt.

Taking a sip, this drink much more appealing, he found himself wandering outside to the back of the house. His legs were just moving on his own. He made it to an open area and sat down, the loud music pumping outside through the ground and the lights from inside shining out.

He was tapping his foot on the grass when a blond male came up to him, his head bouncing of curls and his green eyes staring at Phil. He was cute. He was extremely cute. And as Phil took an intake of breath, he noticed that the male was an Omega and his scent was delicious.

“Hi there.” The boy said, sitting down next to Phil with his own cup. “My name is Devon.”

Phil looked at him and smiled. “I’m Phil.”

“Any reason you’re out here all alone?” Devon asked.

“I just don’t know what to do here.” Phil said with a laugh. “I’m a freshman.”

Devon chuckled. “Same. But don’t tell anyone else that.”

“What major are you?” Phil asked.

“I’m a political science major. I wanna become the first Omega lawyer in this town.” Phil smiled at that. That was such a great accomplishment.

Phil went over his major with Devon as they both sat and just stared ahead at the party going on. He didn’t know what to expect when he left with Devon that night. He didn’t expect for him to lose his virginity to him in his dorm room as Devon took control. He didn’t expect for them to become an item–to begin dating.

He didn’t expect for Devon to go off his heat suppressants and begin going through heats. He didn’t expect himself to be so intrigued at Devon being his mate that he went off from his pills too. He didn’t expect to share a rut and heat with Devon as he locked inside of him, his knot swelling for the first time ever as he bit deep into Devon’s mating gland. And he definitely didn’t expect for Devon’s body to never heal because Devon never felt the same.

But Phil didn’t know that when he took Devon’s hand and showed him his dorm room at three am on a Friday night after drinking a little too much at the soccer house.

Phil finished the story and looked down at Dan who was tense.

“Do you still care about him?” Dan asked.

Phil shook his head. “I did. But I’ve got someone else on my mind now.”

Dan blushed and curled in closer to Phil. Then his smile faltered and he managed to look up–almost–directly at Phil. “So does that mean you’re not a virgin?” He asked.

Phil was taken aback at the question but he figured if he and Dan were actually soulmates, like his body was beginning to sense more and more every day, that they needed to talk about this with each other.

Phil nodded. “Yes, I’m not a virgin.”

Dan sighed. “I am.” He said. “I’m a virgin because Omegas are supposed to be pure when they meet their mates.”

“I know that.” Phil said, his arm tightening along with his jeans at the sudden arousal he was feeling. Stupid Alpha hormones.

“I hope that I don’t disappoint my mate with my inexperience. I’ve never even kissed someone before.”

“Yeah?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you–”

Phil’s voice got caught in his throat as Dan lunged forward and his lips landed somewhere on the corner of Phil’s mouth and his cheek. He chuckled softly as he reached his hands out and moved Dan’s head so their lips were connected.

His body was screaming at him how right this was. This was his mate. He knew this now. Everything about this was exactly what he needed. And oh God, he never wanted to stop.

Their lips moved together in sync before Phil pulled away and smiled at Dan, although Dan couldn’t see it.

“Did you feel that?” Dan asked.

“I did.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think we’ll know soon enough.”

Dan smiled at Phil and rested his head back to Phil’s chest. Phil reached down and threaded their fingers together as their hands rested in each others.

This was perfect to Phil. The inner need inside of him to find his mate was suddenly being unleashed but also quenched. As he looked down at the blushing curly hair boy on his chest, his heartbeat sped up.

Yeah. Dan was definitely his mate.

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter 

[thebleedingeffect]

Okay actually wait I'm gonna talk about that dark sandduo fic cause I wanna and I'm finally feeling awake lmao. The antarctic empire is one of the strongest countries in the entire world and has been slowly fighting and consuming land around it. Techno’s kingdom is one of the kingdoms that refuses to step down but eventually it becomes very clear that they aren't going to win. Most are split between dying for their kingdom and the other half want to surrender in the hope that they'll be spared. Techno is the crowned prince and is forced to be present for all of his parents royal meetings, never saying anything but expected to learn and take the throne one day.

Techno thinks that his head might be meeting the end of a sword long before the crown crosses his temple if the war keeps spiraling as is. A handful of times he does indeed try to help with strategizing but is immediately pushed back from the king's advisors as he may be the prince but he clearly doesn't have the faintest idea of what he's talking about! So Techno is just forced to come to terms with the fact that his life is being held by a bunch of people who refuse to be smart about actual war and is going to get millions killed.

That is, until the antarctic empires emperor and ambassador agree to come to their kingdom to see if an agreement of sorts can be met. Techno is immediately distrusting and say it's only going to allow them to whittle their way through their walls and find the cracks- and is locked inside his room for the rest of the day for insubordination. The day that truly ends the end for techno is when the kingdom quiets to their arrival, the city below the castle practically hushed and as dead as the charred land surrounding them as the king and his small army easily make their way into the castle's gates. It's the first time that techno isn't allowed to sit during a meeting and he's almost happy for it, not knowing what's going to happen for a blessed handful of hours as Techno instead loses himself with tending to Carl.

A man appears some time afterwards, a kind, charismatic man who wonders into the horses stalls with a flourish and easy wave as bright brown eyes crease themselves with happiness as Techno talks. He's dressed as a noble, a clearly importantly dressed one, so techno imagines that perhaps he wasn't the only one kicked out from the room that would end their kingdom once and for all. Techno has never seen this man before but that's not surprising at all, countless men and women run through the castle so techno let's himself fall into the easy conversation with the man.

He's surprisingly nice, even warm and funny, moreso than anyone else he's ever met before and Techno finds himself smiling and laughing more than he's done in months. The man's name is Wilbur as he tells techno as he gently brushes Carl's skin, that he's here on behalf of his country but the king found issue with him and thus- he was kicked out for the main conversation.

Anyway, twinsduo bonding with Wilbur meeting techno cause the king picked up a huge fight of only wanting to talk to Phil, no one else. So Wilbur just fucks off for a bit and ends up meeting Techno! To which he's immediately attached and for a couple hours Wilbur is on cloud NINE cause hollyyyyy shit..... brother time.... and techno isn't dressed super formally so when techno eventually gives him his name Wilbur is JUST. WHAT THE HELL. I MEAN YOU'RE OURS ANYWAY BUT THIS IS GONNA TAKE SO MUCH LONGER.

Wilbur ends up telling Phil all about Techno and Phil ends up meeting Techno in a more formal sitting where Phil just straight up kicks out a bunch of guards cause they're hovering over techno lmao. Fic truly begins when they both get attached and they're like OKAY, we'll let you guys live if you hand over your prince <3333 to which the king is just, no, and the entire castle ends up getting burned to the ground with Wilbur grabbing techno anyway SJSJSI

Random dumping ground of all my wips and potential fic ideas if I ever decide to write them cause I'm Tired and I wanna write them all down just in case I forget.

1 - dark sbi techno centric with vampires and lots of worldbuilding, drama, angst, betrayal, the works

2 - clingyduo tubbo centric fic, Tommy has been kidnapped and tubbo goes down the rabbit hole in trying to find him

3 - avian sbi fic Techno centric fic with alot of hurt/comfort and a dash of whump with Techno painfully growing in his wings

4 - dark sbi fundy centric fic, fundy was born as Wilburs changeling but Sally took him away and nearly killed Wilbur in the process. Fic follows as fundy delves into the world of covens

5 - dark sandduo techno centric fic, Techno is a prince to a kingdom that's at war with the antarctic empire. Wilbur and Phil both get attached to him and agree to call off the war if their crowned prince is handed over to them as payment. Fic follows techno's emotions over the whole thing and whether or not he's actually being given up

[creativphan]

Age of Miracles Chapter 6

summary: it's back to school season bitches, witches, and all of my switches. (watch these summaries fall apart with me lmao)

School started August 20th. We were eighth graders. For the first time in my life my mom was no longer a teacher at my school and wasn’t even awake for my first day. I got ready alone on a dark morning. People hugged a little bit tighter on the first day back. A girl named Meghan passed around birthday invitations and somehow invited me too. Teacher’s introduced new lesson plans that would accommodate The Slowing. We were going to learn about the science of growing food and the new greenhouses that were starting to pop up everywhere. We each took home a pack of seeds. 

It was dark after school but Phil and I walked home. The party was the only thing on his mind as he walked, however. It was supposed to be a chill party, her parents were gonna be gone, and it was going to have high schoolers. He wouldn’t shut up about it next Friday. 

I got home to find my mom active and moving around the house more than usual. She was doing an inventory of sorts on the first aid supplies under the stairs. She asked about school and gossiped about the teachers. It was weird having her gone from my school for once, she didn’t even know my science teacher who was new this year. I figured I should bring up the party but it never came out, instead, I smiled and nodded through her talking and tried to enjoy a rare moment of her being herself. I’m sure she noticed but she never showed it.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight!” She proudly exclaimed. “Does Phil wanna come over?”

I shook my head. He would be with Hannah tonight.

She smiled anyway. 

“Would you prefer hamburgers or tacos tonight?”

I just went upstairs. My room was dark all the time. My blackout curtains just stayed closed. My laptop screen was dark from inactivity. The whole room was shadows. I sat on my bed. I felt the darkness creep up from the room and into me. I felt so incredibly alone. I had never had many friends but I had always had Sam, Killian, and mostly Phil. Slowly I was losing Phil to whatever he was trying to fulfill within himself. I would have taken being punched in my chest by him again over feeling this gut-wrenching loneliness. People always talked about the effects of The Slowing on the mind but they only ever talked about the physical deficiencies of Vitamin D or sleep but never on the darkness it crept in your mind and you wonder how long we could live like this.

I ate with my mom that night. Dad never came home. I got a text from Phil later that he was no longer a virgin. I sat on my bed until the sun rose at three in the morning. I started crying so hard I couldn’t breathe and decided I was never going to let myself be so alone again.

My mom had good days for those whole weeks. We bought a greenhouse of our own to build in the backyard so we could plant a few things for ourselves. She built it mostly alone with my dad stepping in occasionally when he wasn’t too tired. There was still no progress on the magic wheat. Our days were at 47 hours. 

I always planned to mention the party. However, I couldn’t risk my parents being overprotective. It would just be easier to lie and say I’m going over to Phil’s. So I did and on the night of September first, I left saying I was going down the road to sleep over. 

Phil thankfully walked into the party with me. He was right about it all. Despite the glitzy invitations handed out in classrooms, it was nothing like the parties I had been to. It made sense why I had been invited though because the entire house was filled with people. It was probably everyone Meghan had ever met. The whole house had music blasting through it and people chatting. 

“Beer is in the kitchen!” Someone directed us that way.

A magical thing about The Slowing was the effect it had on the police force. White nights became high times for crime so cops began busting parties less and less to focus on the murders in break-ins over in the bad side of town. 

Somehow a beer bottle ended up in my hand but when I look over Phil was gone. I started looking for him. The pretty-enough girl named Lauren who Phil had mentioned seemingly years ago that he was fond of came up to me all giggle.

“Hey, you’re Phil’s friend right?” She swayed a little bit as she talked. She was in the year above us and going to be a freshman. It was funny how she couldn’t keep her eyes straight.

“Yeah, I’m Dan” I tried to remember that I was here to have fun too but god where was Phil?

She started saying something but got distracted by a friend and ran away. People were everywhere and most of them sat at least 5 inches taller than me. It was almost funny how I came here to feel less alone and instead I had never felt lonelier in my life. I figured if I couldn’t find Phil I might as well find a bathroom to collect my thoughts in. The party mostly had high school rejects who figured any party could be lit if enough chill people showed so it was filled with Theater kids or B-Team soccer players. It wasn’t ideal but I asked one of the guys in a soccer shirt to point me to a bathroom and once I made it inside I locked the door. The music continued to pound through the door but the bathroom muffled the noise and left me alone inside of it while I looked in a mirror. Phil’s friend was my ride so I knew I would be stuck here until someone let me know that he was ready to go. I sat on the closed toilet lid with my head down waiting for some cue to let me know that things were going to be okay. It is funny how that works because suddenly a loud pounding on the door and a loud yet familiar voice hollered.

“Let me the fuck in”

It was from Phil. I stood up and opened the door. He was standing there looking pissed. 

“God, don’t you have any fun? You wanted to come and then I find out you’re hiding in the bathroom?” He walked in and slammed the door behind himself. I stood there shocked.

“I didn’t realize you were babysitting me considering you left me at the door”

His eyes narrowed and he put his head down against the counter, his beer that was in his hand sat dangerously close to the edge of the sink.

“You don’t understand just get the fuck out and let me be,” He said as he turned to me.

I looked at him but something wasn’t right. He was mad but he wasn’t mad at me, or maybe he was so I just left him resting there. 

I walked back into the party where girls sat up and down the stairs and tried to find another place that was quiet enough that I could be ignored. I eventually found a corner with a locked door that no one seemed to be trying to go in or out of so I settled in the corner. Time passed incredibly slowly and my phone battery died incredibly quickly. I waited around for something to happen yet again. This time Lauren came back up to me. Her hands were now just as shaky as her eyes but she could still talk fairly fine. 

“Why are you here?” She asked. It seemed bold but I didn’t want to lie.

“I thought it could be fun. It’s not my scene though”

She seemed to think on that a little bit and then with a little bit of vigor she gained from nowhere she leaned over and kissed me. I pulled back.

“Oh my god was that your first kiss?” She asked with almost fear in her voice.

“Hell no” I responded and with the little bit of vigor I had been given I went back in. Later she left when a friend pulled her off of me and said her ride was here to take her home. I figured the same and realized it had been hours since I had seen Phil and I had a lot to tell him.

It was funny because the kissing itself wasn’t great but the excitement in being able to tell Phil what I did was so much better, hopefully, he would be proud. A part of me wished my first kiss was special, but it was The Slowing, special moments happened at weird times in weird ways. 

After about fifteen minutes of searching the house, I realized I couldn’t find Phil. I figured he could have left without me so I started asking around if anyone had seen Hannah. People shrugged and said that they thought she had left hours ago. Somehow I made it back to the bathroom from earlier and lightly knocked on the door asking if Phil was inside.

“Yeah”

“Shit man, you good? We should probably go.” I told him from outside the door.

I heard the sink briefly run and the door clicks as it unlocked and I saw as the doorknob turned and revealed Phil behind it. His eyes were red and puffy and he looked like a disaster. 

“What the hell happened to you? How much did you drink?” I didn’t care if I sounded like a scolding mother because he looked straight out of a movie about people drinking too much. He pressed his lips a little bit and started crying.

“I barely fucking drank. Hannah broke up with me okay? She said I’m too young and immature for her.” His beer bottle sat half empty in the same spot halfway into the sink he had left it in before, so I believed him.

“Let’s just get back to yours so we can get some sleep okay?” I reached on the inside of the bathroom to turn off the light. 

“Oh shit shit shit shit!” He started panicking. “I told my mom that I was going to yours.” I paused. He looked down trying to figure out a plan.

“Can’t we just sneak back into your house? Your mom has been all sick anyway I doubt she’d hear us.”

I shook my head. “She’s been feeling good today” 

We stood in the doorway trying to make a plan. It was 3 in the morning on a white night and we would certainly get caught trying to sneak into either of our houses. Eventually, we figured out that we left the McAnderson’s house unlocked and we could crash there. It would only be a twenty-minute walk or so and it was late enough that even in daylight we shouldn’t get caught. We headed out.

Once we made it inside their door, past the overgrown grasses and foliage, and once we double checked no one was inside, we strolled inside and made it into the couch so we could finally sit and talk things out.

Phil seemed blank like all life had been taken out of him, it was odd realizing that for once I was the one who had enjoyed myself and was not bumming us out.

“What happened?” I asked. I figured he needed to talk about it.

“She basically met me at the door. Told me that this was her friend’s party and I couldn’t ruin it by being immature and oh also we’re breaking up because you suck.” He seemed bitter more than anything else.

I tried to smile and listen but something was off, girls had broken up with him before but he had never cried about it.

“Why did this hit you so hard man? She’s just a bitch. Was it-” I paused “the sex?”

He sort of laughed it off but then looked away to not get tears caught in his eyes.

“I’ve been a terrible friend Dan. I haven’t told you everything” he stated.

“Sure”

“My parents are just about done, Dan. They want to file a divorce but they don’t like talking about it. Hannah has divorced parents and she was so chill about it, she made me feel like it would be okay. She was older and made me feel like I fit in. She got me out of my own head when I needed it the most. The funny thing is I don’t even think I liked her, she was just someone who could save me for a bit” He paused while I nodded.

“Do you think The Slowing has something to do with all of this?” I asked out of genuine curiosity. I was forming my own theories about the slowing and what it does to people. How darkness and dead birds decay our minds while we have to reach for some greater purpose about the planet.

“Definitely. Mom and Dad never argued before it. Plus it made me think about myself you know? Our own mortality. How we can’t run or hide and it has the power to control every aspect of us. I’m scared we won’t have food one day and I’m scared we won't have anything to do except stand still and let this world kill us in a cruel slow death. The Slowing has aged us, Dan, we aren’t kids. We’re useless but standing older. We’ve survived fewer days and fewer nights but we had to grow up.”

And that was the start of it. Just the two of us sat on the couch talking about our world’s slow escape into death and why we believed it happened. The gap that had started to grow between us was destroyed as we got personal and asked about dreams and aspirations. He was right, we were older than we should have been. Eventually, I snuck in the circumstance that happened with Lauren that night and Phil paused clean in his tracks.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I don’t know.” It seemed silly to lie to him there and hide a lie behind our moments of honesty. I no longer wanted Phil to be proud of me I sort of just wanted to get it off my chest. 

“I don’t know if I enjoy kissing either. It seems like the hype is pretty silly don’t you think?” He said. With those words, I felt validated beyond what I had ever felt. Maybe it wasn’t just me in my innocence and inexperience.  

We stayed up till ten in the morning and didn’t go home until we both felt better. I felt a little less alone.

Chapter 7

[bearfeathers]

“It’s four o'clock, don’t you think you should fuck off?” -- Felix and John (muahahahahaha)

((LMAO HOW DARE YOU. My secret angst otp no…..))

On the best of days, Felix Blake had a range of patience that went to about a five. Unfortunately for anyone within spitting distance, today was not the best of days. Of course Coulson and Sitwell are off on some mad quest to see which of them will be the first to get themselves killed and he’s their unfortunate handler. As always. Why it’s always Felix doesn’t know, but he can venture a guess that it’s because Fury has some sort of secret vendetta against him.

“Why the sour look, pussy cat?”

Felix stills with his coffee mug at his lips, how own internal screaming echoing against the wall of his mind. Of course. A moment of peace is far too much to ask.

“You know exactly why, Garrett,” Felix drawls. “Don’t you have somewhere else to fuck off to?”

“Not until four,” John says with a grin, sauntering into Felix’s control room.

John Garrett never merely walks. He saunters. He struts. He marches. He never simply steps anywhere; rather he always moves with purpose and confidence, owning whatever space he brings himself into. It’s one of the things that had first attracted Felix to him. As well as one of the things that grates the most on his nerves.

“I pity your four o'clock appointment,” Felix mutters, sipping from his mug and typing with his free hand.

John pulls a spare seat seemingly out of nowhere and spins it with its back facing forward before straddling it and leaning forward with his arms on the back rest. Felix really does wonder where the chair came from. He makes a habit of not keeping any chairs other than his own in his office. It gives people the incorrect impression that they might be permitted to stay. Sitting means staying and Felix does not abide visitors.

“Seriously, what’s gotten under your skin?” John wants to know. “You’re even more ornery than usual today.”

“I must have suffered a blow to the head, since I don’t remember inviting you to start a conversation,” Felix says, eyes firmly glued to his monitors.

“You can huff and puff all you want, sweetheart, this brick house ain’t coming down,” John assures him with a smug smirk.

Felix inhales deeply through his nose, closing his eyes and willing himself not to snap. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Strangling your co-workers means losing your pension. It’s just that this particular co-worker is the source of more grief for him than others. Their on-again-off-again relationship isn’t exactly surprising when you take their two personalities into account, but even still, Felix wishes that they could just pick one and stick with it. Or that he could say no and mean it when John inevitably came back. Or that he could stop himself from showing up at John’s door at three in the morning with a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand and a thousand reasons why they should get back together. In the end, no matter what the reason, the cycle continues on and on and on, as sure as death and taxes.

Current status: off-again.

“You want something. Get to the point,” Felix grates.

John snorts. “So it’s completely outside the realm of possibility that maybe I felt like dropping in for a minute?”

“You wanting to drop in doesn’t mean I want you to drop in,” Felix reminds him. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on, say something about my thick skull,” John answers, rolling his eyes. “No, I didn’t forget. I know how picky you are about privacy. But seein’ as you reduced that sweet new intern to tears with your crabbiness, I figured I ought to come poke my nose in your door.”

“I’m not required to hold her hand,” Felix declares.

“True, but most folks try to at least not make them want to run screaming from the building on their very first day,” John hums thoughtfully. “Now, you gonna talk or what?”

“Guess.”

John sighs, saying nothing for a moment and then rising from his seat and walking away. Felix hears the gentle swish of his door sliding open and closed and breathes a soft sigh of relief. Alone again. Thank god. But not a moment later, his relief is quashed as the door open and closed once again. He should have suspected; John Garrett is not a man to be bested. Before he can protest, a hand reaches around from behind his chair and covers his eyes. His temple throbs.

“I’m not playing ‘guess who?’ with you, Garret,” Felix grumbles.

“You got a migraine, don’t you?” John says in more of a statement than a question.

“I hardly see how that’s your business,” Felix answers.

“You are one prickly pear today,” John tells him with some amusement. He takes his hand away, allowing the glare of the screens to hit Felix full force once more. He leans over Felix, placing two water bottles.on the desk and forcing two pills into Felix’s hand. “Take those and drink BOTH of those. You drinking that coffee all day isn’t doing you any favors.”

Felix grumbles under his breath all the while, but doesn’t protest. He almost flinches at the feeling of the other man’s fingers pressed to his temples. Almost. But then he starts massaging and applying pressure in juuuuuuust the right way and… well, maybe letting him stay a minute wouldn’t hurt.

“Don’t understand why you didn’t just say so,” John says. “Or get some aspirin yourself.”

“That would require leaving the room,” Felix mumbles. “I can’t leave the feeds unattended.”

“Well, you gotta piss at some point don’t you?”

Felix gestures to the right and the door at the far wall. John’s at least bright enough to infer that it’s a bathroom.

“Alright, but it ain’t like you got monitors in there,” John reasons.

Felix chooses not to answer.

“Well that’s… new,” John says, his tone of voice in that light whatever-floats-your-boat-man tone he uses when he’s trying to be polite. “Still, you could have at least asked someone. Maybe that new intern, instead of biting her head off?”

“That would require talking to anyone for far longer than I have any patience for,” Felix informs him. It’s at this point that he realizes that his eyes have been closed for the past five minutes. “I need to watch the–”

“Calm down, I’m watching your stupid monitors,” John assures him. “Nothin’ exciting even happening anyway.”

[“Are you out of your fucking mind? You just broke half the rules in the book with that stunt!”]

[“Okay, A: Don’t pretend like you didn’t already know that, and B: You were there right along with me.”]

[“We’re handcuffed together. I didn’t have a choice!”]

[“That’s a really weird way to say 'Gee, thanks for getting us out of that cell, Phil.’”]

The sound of Jasper and Phil’s bickering filters in over the comms and Felix feels a sharp spike of pain in his head and a subsequent rise in blood pressure. John seems to sense this, because instead of allowing Felix to do anything about it, he leans over and commanders the mic.

“Say, you fellas wanna keep the chirping to a minimum? Got a kitty cat with a migraine, here,” John says brightly.

[“Another one, huh? Want us to stop at that place downtown for your Catnip mix?”]

The sound of gunfire in the background lends an air to the question that is indescribably Phil Coulson. His preference for herbal remedies had been the nail in Felix’s kitty cat coffin. It was bad enough he was named Felix, but when they found out he drank a tea with catnip as one of the ingredients, well… that was it. He can blame his hippie parents as much as he wants, but in the end, he’s the one who had chosen the name 'Felix’ for himself. But since his parents had chosen 'Susan’ he figures he can live with the cat jokes.

“On your way back from Tehran? Something tells me I’ll make it there before you do, buddy,” John answers, clearly amused.

Felix leans back, vaguely listening to the conversation between his friends but paying more attention to John’s hands on his face. They must finish at some point, because next he knows John’s face is pressed to the top if his head. He can feel warm breaths as John talks to him quietly, just above a whisper, telling him he should take the day, come back to his place. And damn him, Felix actually considers it.

Current status: on-again.

[kae-karo]

waffles - a lil phanfic

yo waddup i wrote this a while ago when i had a cute waitress at a diner (no, this isn’t what happened to me unfortunately lmao) anyway enjoy!

waffles - 1.8k - no tw apply. just a fluffy meet-cute

read on ao3

“M’name’s Dan and I’ll be taking care of you this morning,” the guy says, as if Phil doesn’t already know this, “can I get you something to drink?”

The voice pulls Phil from his menu-gazing, though it feels a bit more like glazing with the way everything keeps going blurry and his focus keeps slipping; to be fair, it’s quite early and he’s yet to have any coffee. He’d just been struggling to remember why exactly he’d woken up in time to see the sunrise on his way over to the diner when he’d looked up to find that very reason offering him a tired smile.

“Hi,” Phil mumbles with his best interpretation of a grin; it’s only the second time Phil’s met Dan properly, if sitting at a table and being waited on by someone can be considered ‘meeting’, but he’s been enamored since the first second he laid eyes on him. Even clearly exhausted with bags under his eyes and a heavily lidded gaze, Dan looks adorable - fluffy brown curls rest atop his head, stuffed under a black baseball cap with the diner’s logo, and they’re a perfect match for the dark coffee-colored gaze he fixes Phil with.

“Coffee!” Phil finally says in response to Dan’s question, cursing his slow brain and his naturally awkward demeanor - of course his single functioning brain cell had to go and get distracted by the warm curve of Dan’s lips, full and pink and begging to be kissed. Dan swipes his tongue across them and Phil wants nothing more than to copy the movement with his own tongue.

“Sure thing,” Dan’s mouth curls up in a smirk, and Phil wonders if he’s been caught staring; but then Dan’s gone, off behind some counter, and he ducks down and out of Phil’s line of sight. Phil stays focused on the spot, though, waiting for him to reemerge - it’s not that Phil’s obsessed or anything, that’d be weird. He just...really likes the waffles here. The waffles.

Which is the only reason he’d come back - his first visit had been an early-morning-out-too-late sort of trip that had led him past the twenty-four-hour diner on his way home. His rather unfortunate second trip had been the next week in the later morning - much more his preferred time for breakfast - but Dan hadn’t been working- er, rather, the waffles hadn’t been...as...good…

“Your coffee,” Dan’s back already, pouring the steaming caffeine source into Phil’s mug with his lips pursed in a way Phil has trouble deciphering. What he doesn’t have trouble deciphering is the dimple in Dan’s cheek, and it holds him transfixed until Dan turns, until brown eyes lock on his own and he’s left with a warm feeling that crawls up to his cheeks and settles there.

But Dan just keeps staring, then tilts his head in a way Phil realizes means something, and he coughs out a hum in question; he can feel his blush deepening - he just had to go and get lost in Dan’s eyes like a sappy teen falling in love, didn’t he?

“I said are you ready to order, or d’you need more time?” Dan asks, and this time the words actually make it to Phil’s ears.

“Waffles?” He manages to get out, which earns him a poorly-concealed grin from Dan as he jots a note down on his pad, and there’s that dimple again. Phil forgets how to form words, though he’s fortunately left with a ‘I’ll get that order in’ and another brief moment of eye contact before Dan turns, so he doesn’t need to really try.

He ends up following Dan with his gaze again, across the diner until he disappears into the kitchen, presumably to put in Phil’s order. At this point, he decides it’d be quite stalkerish of him - more so than it already is - to keep staring at the closed door and waiting for Dan to come back out, so he makes a grab for his mug of coffee and focuses on adding the proper amount of milk and sugar.

It’s not til he’s just lifted the drink to his lips, intent on taking what he hopes to be a steadying sip, that Dan finds his way into Phil’s field of vision again; he’s balancing a tray on his shoulder - full to the edges with plates for a surprisingly large table for just past seven on a Saturday morning - and expertly unloading each dish with practiced precision. For some reason, this simple and probably rather uneventful act holds Phil fascinated.

And then Dan turns, tray tucked under his arm, and his eyes land on Phil. Who’s not even attempted to hide the fact that he’s been staring, not until he’s been very obviously caught; he lifts his mug the rest of the way to his lips, dropping his gaze to the coffee and trying not to think about how if he’d just added the slightest bit less milk, the liquid would be a perfect match for Dan’s hair.

He sips until he’s absolutely certain Dan’s gone, then waits another few seconds before lifting his gaze to scan the diner again - sure enough, Dan’s nowhere in sight, and Phil takes the time to collect himself; he really needs to not act like he’s quite so obsessed with Dan. He’s just here for the waffles, he tells himself again.

To be fair, they are quite good.

Phil busies himself alternating between taking sips of coffee and playing with the empty packet of sugar, commanding his thoughts to focus solely on how delicious his waffles will be - he does not let his mind wander to Dan, who seems to have disappeared for the time being, not that Phil’s thinking about that at all. Or wondering where he might’ve gone to, or wondering if maybe Dan’s already finished his shift and gone home and Phil’s botched yet another chance to-

And then he spots Dan carrying a couple plates, walking in Phil’s direction, and his worries evaporate and resolidify in the form of nerves mixing with the coffee in his stomach. Or maybe they’re butterflies instead of nerves, he has a tough time telling.

With every step that Dan takes closer, Phil expects him to stop staring, to turn his gaze toward another table - maybe that couple that looks far too perky for being up this early on the weekend, or the mum and her kid sat in the corner, both coloring on a placemat with tired smiles on their faces.

But he doesn’t, just keeps on walking right toward Phil until they’re both sort of just watching each other, and Phil has a very hard time tugging his gaze away from Dan’s. But he does, eventually, trying his best to pretend the dregs of his coffee are a decent replacement for Dan’s warm chocolatey eyes; because if he doesn’t, he’s sure Dan will frown, will think he’s weird, will tell him not to come back.

It’s a silly thought, Phil knows, but he has it anyway.

“Your breakfast,” Phil loses this pathetic little battle with his heart when Dan speaks, when he sets a steaming plate of waffles in front of Phil. But he has to look up, because curiosity wins out: Dan had been holding two plates, but Phil’s fairly certain he’s the only person here by himself.

Phil watches as Dan sets the other plate at the opposite end of the table with a clunk.

“Oh, I didn’t order-”

“Nope,” Dan interjects before Phil can properly argue that he’d only ordered a single plate of waffles - although, he was sort of too dumbstruck to say anything aside from ‘waffles’ so maybe Dan had just gotten confused; frankly, Phil wouldn’t blame him. He knows he’s not the most direct person.

Before Phil can properly ask, Dan’s pulling out the chair opposite him and settling in. It’s only now that he’s staring straight at him that Phil realizes he’s lost the hat and apron, just sporting a red and black jumper with his curls let loose in a messy fluff on his head. Phil must be staring, as Dan ducks his head and runs a hand through his hair.

There’s a moment - or several, really - of silence, then, as Phil does his best to process what’s happening; while he does, Dan’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and he bites his lip while he stares down to his plate. Then his hands grip the edges of the table, and he shifts like he’s about to stand.

“Sorry, this was- fuck, this was really awkward of me to assume- I’m not, I mean- fuck I’m tired and I really should just go, I don’t-”

“Stay?” Phil says before he can stop his mouth from moving, before he can let his still-sleepy brain think too hard on whatever’s happening; the only clear thought he’s got at the moment is Dan’s sat here, and he’d very much like him not to leave.

Phil’s actually quite surprised it worked - why, he’s not sure, but it’s rare for him to get what he wants, so he’s shocked this time seems to be an exception. But he’s certainly not about to complain. No, instead, his heart decides to race and remind him just how nervous he’d been to see Dan to begin with. And now Dan’s just casually sat across from him, offering a small smile and grabbing a fork and knife. Phil suddenly feels quite like curling into a ball and disappearing - he’d barely had a plan for what to say to Dan when Dan was just his waiter, now he’s got to hold a conversation? About what? He doesn’t even know why Dan bothered joining him.

It’s not til Dan lifts a bite to his mouth that his gaze meets Phil’s again, and Phil realizes he’s not blinked in quite a while.

“Are you gonna, like...eat?” Dan’s hand drops, the bit of waffle no longer poised in front of his lips - which, coincidentally, gives Phil a perfect view; they’re just a few shades darker than his cheeks, the ones that clearly haven’t yet cooled from his earlier- was he embarrassed? Did he actually think Phil wouldn’t want him to stay?

“Yeah! Yeah,” Phil rushes out, fingers fumbling to grab his own silverware and cut into the waffles. He shoves a not-syrupy-enough bite in his mouth as quickly as he can, both to break the awkward moment and to prevent himself from saying anything that might scare Dan away. Instead, he offers his best attempt at a closed-mouth smile as he chews. Dan just chuckles, but his shoulders relax and he points his fork at Phil’s plate.

“Good?” He asks, brows raised in a way that makes little lines across his forehead, but Phil’s more focused on the return of the dimple he likes so much. And chewing, which he should definitely keep doing. And he should swallow, too, he thinks, because that’s what a normal, not-obsessed person would do.

In lieu of attempting to respond - because there’s no way he can trust his own words right now - Phil just nods and hums out a sound he hopes Dan will interpret as positive. The waffles are really good. Which was definitely the reason he came here.