#as long as i get to walk away occasionally so i can go replay hades or frost punk sometimes

[m1suse]

okay but,,, imagine not wearing a bra,,, using some sort of forgiving shibari instead,,, wearing it under your clothes ever so peacefully through the day,,, until they innocently drag their dominant hand up and down your back,,, that ends up underneath your shirt,,, that turns to you being dragged by that rope to another room,,, that turns into being held down by the binds accentuating your chest looking oh so perky and bite able,,, that turns to another piece of rope appearing in front of you, that is about to restrict you further_,,, im droolling

[joyfulsongbird]

Bruises And All- Chapter 8

I've moved a couple things around so that I don't have to commit to decisions in the story I'm anxious about quite yet. enjoy this chapter!! after months of silence!!

here's a link to chapter 7!

ao3 link to chapter 8!

***

ORPHEUS knows he’s naive.

Knows he doesn’t have a perfect understanding of what the world is really like. He’s been told enough times. Mister Hermes says he’s different, says he’s special. That doesn’t feel right. He’s not any more special than anybody else, than Persephone, or Hermes himself, even Hades. He’s just a boy. Not much else matters, as long as they’re good. Good people aren’t special, they’re just people. They look like anybody else.

“Eurydice?” he catches her hand when she’s passing by the bar after lunch, she’d disappeared for awhile, he doesn’t know where to. But he doesn’t stop her because of that, he stops her because she looks upset. Her eyes are ringed with pink, like she’s been crying recently. He doesn’t like that, he doesn’t want her to cry. He just wants her to be happy, to stay.

“Are you okay?”

She slips her hand out of his, smiling softly. “Perfectly fine. Thank you.”

In the moment between her saying that and her stepping to leave, he follows her eye line, confused at minuscule pause. And even more confused to find that she, though very briefly, catches Hades’ eye. He’s frowning, deeper than usual, and dipping a mug of what looks like black coffee.

She’s turning to go before he says her name again. “Eurydice.”

Her eyelashes are so long. And they’re wet.

“Did- did Hades say something to you?”

She’s quick to reply, quirking her lips into a smile. “No. No, he didn’t. Don’t worry.”

“But he-”

“Nothing happened. Okay?” her expression turns stern, as do her words.

“Um- okay.” he starts to turn away first this time, hurt bubbling in his chest that he doesn’t want to show on his face.

“Hey. Hey, Orpheus.” she reaches for his hand first this time, taking it in both of hers. “I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m tired. I’m stressed and tired. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Why are you so stressed?” he asks, still relishing in the way she hasn’t let go of his hand yet, and doesn’t seem to want to.

“No specific reason, really.” even he can tell she’s lying. “Just about the future.”

“The future?”

“Like I said, nothing specific. Just… a lot of thoughts.”

“Well that’s gotta be tough.” he aims for lightness but it falls flat, she just smiles weakly at him, dropping his hands and walking towards the bookshelf against the wall. When the bar is open, they always pride themselves on having other things for people to occupy themselves with besides getting drunk. Books on history fill the walls, some fiction mixed in, but mostly old school books Orpheus read after he’d dropped out of school and the occasional folk story Mister Hermes had collected over the years. He liked to do that, to listen to people’s stories and write them down. Keep them as reminders of the past. He claimed he didn’t really read them after he’d first written them down but sometimes, Orpheus saw him leaned up against the wall, holding a book in his hands and his eyes skimming down each page hungrily. He loved those stories, though he didn’t want to admit it.

She picks out a thick book from the wall, holding it gingerly. Orpheus tries not to look like he’s staring at her, he’s really trying not to, but the way she moves just constantly draws his eye. Gracefully, she floats about, but with a heavy air to her. Like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders but she has learnt to bear it so skillfully. So beautifully.

“When do you think the storm will let up, Hermes?” Persephone calls from her table where she sits, playing solitaire by herself.

“Shouldn’t be more than a day, by now. Hurricanes like these leave a lot of damage but never last too long.” he says, as he dusts off a couple glasses. Orpheus isn’t watching Hermes or even Persephone, his had been on Eurydice even before Persephone had started speaking but her reaction to Hermes’ answer makes him frown. She briefly clenches her fist over the sides of the book and glances up, eyes scanning across the bar, stopping once more on… Hades.

Orpheus may be a little naive, sure, but he can figure out when something strange is going on.

He can’t bring it up though, until almost that night, when he finally gets a moment alone with Eurydice. When they’re cleaning up after dinner, put in charge of washing and putting away the dishes. The three others are scattered upstairs and downstairs, Hades and Persephone turning in for the night upstairs in bed. And Hermes is downstairs tending to the furnace.

As she cranes her neck over the sink, reaching for the sponge that she had dropped, she pauses.

“What is it, Orpheus?”

“W-what?”

“You’ve been acting weird all afternoon, what is it?” she straightens up, her jaw set tightly, her arms up to the elbows are covered in suds and soap and it only looks a little ridiculous to see her stony expression and then take in the rest of her.

“You keep- every time anyone seems to say something about the storm ending or anything like that, you look at Hades. Why?”

She freezes, everything in her body turning taut for only a moment before it all releases but for a moment, there was genuine panic in her eyes. Fear like he hadn’t seen before. Like an animal looking for an escape route, a fear he can barely even comprehend.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not.”

“We just had a conversation, it’s fine. I’m handling it.” She turns back to wash the dishes some more but Orpheus catches her wrist, not hard, gently so she could pull away if wanted to. And she does, after a moment or two, but doesn’t continue with washing the dishes, she just stands there, head bowed slightly.

“Does he want you to leave?” Orpheus asks, outright.

She swallows slowly. “No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“Eurydice-”

“For gods’ sake, Orpheus, can you just leave it alone? I’m not going to bear every inch of my soul to you.” he steps back at the harshness in her voice, how… angry she sounds. Pain ripples through his chest and he steps back, leaning against the back counter of the bar. Things go on in utter silence for a while, Eurydice washes the dishes and places them on the rack. He’s supposed to be drying them but he’s afraid she doesn’t want him close right now. They’d have to be standing almost hip to hip for it to work well and she’s already so skittish… and angry… he doesn’t want to upset her anymore.

After too long, she turns off the faucet, and braces herself against the sides of the sink. Her exhale is loud enough for him to hear, before she turns around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” she says quietly. “I feel as if I’ve been so terrible to you today. And I really am… so sorry, Orpheus. I don’t mean to lash out. There’s no excuse, really, I just don’t know how to cope, it’s ridiculous. One thing starts upsetting me and it’s like I have to burn all of my bridges and hurt everyone around me.”

He stays silent, what can he say to that? What can he say to console her? To tell her that he’d never, ever blame her for her past bleeding into the present? Tell her that he’d forgive her a thousand times over?

She wipes her nose with her sopping wet hand, which does nothing to help. “I told you I wasn’t very nice.”

He doesn’t want to cry in front of her, though it’s an inevitable end, but when she lets her eyes rise to the ceiling and her arms come around her torso, trying to soothe herself. He can’t help it.

“Can I hug you?” his mouth comes out strained and like he’s on the verge of tears (because he is). Her eyes snap to him suddenly, her mouth forming a perfect O in surprise before she nods once, stepping forwards.

She’s warm. And much smaller than he thought. It takes a few moments before she relaxes into his embrace befores she stands on tip toes to bury her face into his shoulder. He sniffles, trying not to pay attention to the way she wraps her arms so tightly around his neck, like she never wants to let go. The way he holds her around her midsection, he doesn’t want this moment to end. Where they’re both just teary-eyed, affection starved kids who need a damn hug. Instead of a… whatever they are now. Something worse. Something far more complicated.

When she pulls away, she’s smiling. Her thumb brushes a tear from under his eye, he wants to replay that moment of tenderness a hundred times.

“You’re so nice, ‘rydice.” he murmurs. “I really like you.”

“I know.” she whispers back.

“I can’t force you to stay, I can’t ask you to give me an answer, but… I don’t want you to go.” it’s the truth. It’s one of the most truthful statements he thinks he’s ever said. Nothing he has said before this moment has ever been more true.

She nods, unable to speak even a word. He does not ask again, doesn’t ask about the side glances between her and Hades, doesn’t ask why she’s crying over this simple confession. Doesn’t even ask why she’s so on edge all the time, when she’s safe here with them. He wants to tell her she is safe but he has a feeling she wouldn’t believe him.

She places a hand on his cheek, his eyes follow that slender arm down to her shoulder, where once again, he sees those prominent bruises. He tries, he really does, to tear his eyes away from her pain. It doesn’t last more than a few moments, before Eurydice lets her hands drop away from him.

“Come on, we’ve gotta finish up.” she says and he nods silently, moving to pick the rag up off of the counter and begins drying the dishes. After a long, painful silence, in his peripheral vision, he sees her jump up to sit on the counter, not too far away from him. Just swinging legs back and forth, looking awfully young.

“Thank you, by the way,” she says finally.

“For what?”

“For being kind. For making me feel… safe.”

He can’t help the smile that creeps up onto his face, he hums quietly under his breath. “I’m really glad you feel safe.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. He wonders what she looks like when it does.

[hadestownmodern]

Fight (2/?)

Hi! Here’s part two! You can find part one here

-Danielle            

------------

  “This is ridiculous.” Persephone paces back and forth across the empty bar, a force of anger and unruly curls. Junie lay asleep upstairs with Orpheus, who’d asked to take her for the night to keep him company. She’d pictured him doting on her, singing her special bedtime song and tucking her in with a kiss on the cheek and his forehead pressed to hers. She’d felt maddened-distraught that her sweet boy had been dealt the card of a runaway girl who chose to pick fights.

              Where she once held absolute belief in Eurydice now lay only distinct anger.

              “Seph,”

              “What?” She whips around on her heel, stares Hermes down with darkened eyes and crossed arms. “You said yourself that you saw her leave with a bag. I came here and you were watching him try not to cry. Hermes, you have to agree with me here.”

              “I’m not doing anything, Persephone.”

              “Yeah, no kidding.”

              “You think I like to watch him be so upset? You think I wasn’t worried when he was late today? My eye’s on our boy every day-I can notice a change in his mood faster than I can with myself. But he’s an adult now; he has to learn how to handle these things on his own. If we keep doing things for him, he’ll never learn.”

              “What, like pay his rent?” It’s the first time Persephone’s eased up on her facial expression, smirking at Hermes in a teasing sort of way.

              “He pays heat and electric. I’m teaching him while letting him live comfortably. What about his full ride to college?”

              “I was teaching there long before he decided that’s where he wanted to go. I might have nudged him a little bit but am I ashamed? No. And his wallet isn’t either.”

              “Which is why he’s the best choice of parent for this child.” Hades speaks up from his place at the counter, where he’s been exceptionally silent-brooding. Persephone hadn’t seen a look like his since college, when he’d unintentionally been the ‘mysterious, intimidating’ figure on campus. Papers are spread out along the bar top, books and bound stacks of research.

              “I thought you weren’t doing any work tonight. We’re talking about our boy, Hades.”

              “And I’m trying to help him. Who says she’s not just going to up and run fully? Who says she’s not going to try and take that baby with her? I’m building a solid case for him, and if this continues I’m bringing in a friend from the district. He’s not about to lose this baby.”

              “Both of you sit down.” Hermes raises his voice just slightly, enough to get Hades tow swivel in his stool, for Persephone to hop up on the bar, nursing a glass of ice water. “We can’t go assuming things just yet. She’s just a girl. She’s young. And whatever she said to Orpheus…you’ve seen how closed-off she is. Persephone, you know her better than both of us. We don’t even know what she did to Orpheus. Is going after her with every weapon we have really the solution we want to teach him?”

              “If it gets him his baby, then yes.” Hades speaks up, gathering his paperwork from the bar and stacking it neatly back into his bag. He rises, shaking his head. “You be the one to tell that boy we have to fight for him to keep the only thing he’s ever wanted.”

              “I’m going to talk to him.” Persephone makes a beeline for the stairs, but makes it only a few steps before Hades and Hermes stop her in her tracks.

              “Just let him have his time-talk to him in the morning. He’s got your baby sleeping, and I’m sure at this point he’s sleeping too. Let him process things.”

--

              The next day brings Persephone back into her classroom, shuffling papers around and writing the beginnings of discussion points on the board. She doesn’t hear the young girl make her way in, find her seat quietly. She doesn’t even notice Eurydice until she turns around.

              Her face is ghostly, distinct dark circles and the slight twinge of nausea twisting her lips. She has her head in her hand, her eyes only rising once to offer a hesitant, silent greeting.

              “I’m working.” Persephone bites, and Eurydice lowers her head again.

              Class passes painfully slow, Eurydice attempting to focus and answer questions with a hand in the air that never gets called on. It’s unusual-typically there’s a long string of banter between them, discussion based on facts and intellect that the other members of the class witness as an open space of time to relax and take note. After half an hour of attempting to participate, Eurydice lowers her head again. The nausea seems to be worse in her second trimester if possible, and the panic within her isn’t helping the situation. She stays seated dutifully against her own body’s will to get up and wander, to attempt to quell the sickness. She’s sure Persephone knows what happened-has already cut her off with a painless ease. Time moves forward. Eurydice’s notes are scattered, gaps within them indicating the places she’d shut down, unable to focus on anything more than breathing-fighting her lurching stomach-attempting to convince herself that everything will be alright.

              “And my office won’t be open other than my designated office hours. That’s all, you can go.” Her words are short and precisely aimed. Eurydice feels their sting as she gathers her bag, ignores the crowd of faces that have clearly picked up on the change in energy.

              The extra early morning shift she’d picked up at the diner had brought her just enough of a tip for a sandwich at the coffee shop.

              She keeps the crumpled bills in her pocket and sits alone in the common instead, attempting to read through notes for her next class. A folded up square of paper falls into her lap as she flips through her notebook, and she knows what it is before she chooses to unfold it, bracing herself.

              Orpheus had written her a song in the coffee shop one morning early on; before the news of a baby, when they’d been more naïve to how quickly they’d become so unintentionally serious. He’d been so shy, scribbling in the music manuscript journal. One hand covered his work-the other brushed occasionally against hers. She’d asked him teasingly to show him her work and he’d refused, blushing, it’s not done yet his most-used phrase until they’d had to go their separate ways.

              She’d found the music in her backpack later on, tucked within the deli paper and twine of a sandwich she hadn’t ordered-her favorite that the shop carried. He’d drawn a little heart on the white wrapping, and she’d smiled at the carefully thought out gesture. She’d learned back then that these things were common with Orpheus, yet they never ceased to take her by surprise.

              Reading the song again after months of seeing him-after the news of a baby and a ring on her finger-Eurydice swallows back the lump of emotion in her throat. With two more classes left in her day, she packs up her things and walks away from campus.

              Eurydice can barely keep herself together as she hops from stop to stop on the subway, suddenly hyperaware of her stature and her youthful face combining with the obvious symptoms of her pregnancy and the fact that she’s very much alone. When she’d executed this trek as an older teen tasting freedom for the first time it had felt exhilarating. Today, there is sadness-humiliation.

              She lowers herself down to her bed with shaky arms, the distance from standing to floor level nearly too much for her to handle. Eurydice covers herself with her scratchy sheets and closes her eyes against the world.

---

              Orpheus paces. The world around him is quiet, lonely. His thoughts are trained on Eurydice-if she’s eaten, what she’s doing on her own. He hasn’t felt this sense of isolation since Hermes had moved out, taken his things uptown and instructed Orpheus in paying heating and electric, working the little fuse box in the backroom of the bar. This is different; he cooks her favorite meal, forgets to make far less than he had been. He doesn’t need to pack the leftovers, although he’s tempted to leave them with Persephone for her anyway. He talks himself out of it, keeping a Tupperware of extra food in the fridge. A piece of him holds onto the hope that she might come back tonight. The newer bit of himself works to talk himself into reality; she needs time. She needs space.

              He wonders if she’s still wearing her ring.

              Persephone stops by, Junie in tow, with a box of warm cookies.

              “Hades made these,” She nurtures. “He thought you might like them.”

              Orpheus is unable to bring himself to sit, even after Persephone asks Junie to find her bin of dolls he keeps in the spare room. Instead he paces, doing the dishes leftover from dinner. Persephone is uncharacteristically quiet. She leans against the counter, feigning a casual mannerism as she watches him. He’s heavier on his feet, more methodical in his labors. Gone is his typical chatter, replaced with the sound of utensils against the metal of the sink.

              “Do you want to talk?” Her deep alto is low and sweet, and he turns to her with misty eyes.

              “She didn’t come home last night. She’s not coming home tonight.” The thought sinks in as he puts his head in his hands, sinks his tall body down to the couch in finality. “What if she never comes home?”

              “Then we fight as hard as we can for your baby.”

              “It’s…what? She would never do that to me. Why would you even say that?” He’s so sure of himself-so sure of her-that Persephone feels herself cringe at the sentence. She’d watched him struggle through his shift at the bar just the day before. He doesn’t seem to take that into account. “What I’m worried about…what if she decides she doesn’t want to be with me anymore?”

              “If she decides she doesn’t want to be with you anymore than that’s her own loss-it’s her own problem. And I’m telling you that of course we’re going to fight. If it came down to it-and it could come down to it…Orpheus, what happened yesterday?”

              He recounts the situation to her as if it were a dream-in a way, he still feels as though none of this is real. He’d been so focused on her feelings in the moment that what she’d been saying hadn’t completely registered until he’d taken the time to replay it. Living the situation over again, he recounts the way Eurydice’s expression had dropped when he’d mentioned Persephone’s offer to take them shopping, the way she’d completely folded in on herself before turning cold, unresponsive. He mentioned the way she looked at all the frilly little dresses with adoration first, and then a passive sort of sadness.

              “And then she said something about us not being thirty year olds with a perfect life. She told me she’s sorry I’m stuck with her. And then-it’s my fault, it really is,”

“-it’s not your fault.”

“I asked her if she only said yes to marrying me because of the baby.”

Persephone’s eyes widen, thought flooding with each potential answer Eurydice could have given. By the way Orpheus had been so distraught the day before she immediately goes to the worst answers-wonders what sweet, gentle Orpheus would do with the ring once they got it back for him. She anticipates a long conversation with Hades and Hermes, gets herself set for battle. For a moment, she feels bad for the young, frightened mother that had become so close to them-she wouldn’t be able to win, not against Hades and his airtight logic. However, Eurydice had hurt her son; Orpheus came first.

“And she told you the baby is the only reason.”

“She…she didn’t answer. And then I got upset that she couldn’t just say no. Why would she have to think about that? If she married me for more than just the baby shouldn’t she just be able to say that to me?”

“My sweet boy,”

“I’m tired.” For the first time Persephone can recount, Orpheus brushes off her affection. “You can stay as long as Junie wants to play. Can you just lock the door when you go?”

She watches as he dips into the spare room, brushes a gentle hand along Junie’s hair, kisses her forehead. He waves at Persephone before shutting his bedroom door, and the only sounds in the apartment are Junie’s tiny footsteps.

[fluffy-dan-and-phil]

Best Song Ever

Genre: Domestic fluff

Warnings: Some cursing towards the end.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Phil sings Dan’s Diss track just to annoy him.

Disclaimer: If you haven’t watched Dan’s Diss track, or if you haven’t seen it in a long time, please do to refresh your memory a bit before reading this. Or maybe you’re trash like me, and know the video by heart.

Phil sat by the desk in the office, watching Youtube whilst drinking a cup of coffee. He had burnt his tongue a couple of minutes earlier, so when he brought the mug up to his mouth this time, he sipped on it carefully, and fortunately it had cooled down somewhat. He was supposed to edit a gaming video that was due in 2 hours, but he was so tired and couldn’t find the willpower to get going and do it. Dan usually did most of the editing, but he was out buying groceries, so Phil had volunteered to do it, just so they could upload it on time.

He had watched a couple of his friends recent videos when he stumbled upon Dan’s Diss track that he had posted yesterday. Phil hadn’t seen it in it’s entirety yet, since he had been really busy, but he decided that now was the time. ”Hello internet! My name is Dan, and today, I am going to roast myself with a diss track.” the familiar voice of his boyfriend said, his voice booming through the speakers that were placed on the desk. As Dan failed to put his sunglasses on, Phil giggled, and in the background a beat started playing, and soon enough, believe it or not, Daniel James Howell was actually rapping. Phil smiled as he remembered when Dan had brought up the idea of a diss track to him for the first time. Phil hadn’t believed his ears. Was his boyfriend actually doing a diss track? Yes he was. For the next few days Dan started working on the lyrics, occasionally asking Phil for advice, and the both of them would then laugh at some of the utterly stupid ones he had already come up with. When the shot of him on a bed with a flower crown came on he couldn’t contain his laughter. Dan hadn’t told him what the shot was for, just that he needed it for his diss track. As Dan rapped the lyrics that went along with it, Phil quite literally lost it. When he had watched it once, he came up with a brilliant idea. He decided he was going to learn the song so he could sing it to Dan when he came home. ”That would annoy the crap out of him.” Phil thought, giggling to himself, as he hit the replay button on the video. Fortunately Dan hade put the lyrics in the description as well, and Phil started mouthing them to himself as his boyfriend rapped them at the same time in the video.

When he hit replay for maybe the 20th time, he heard keys being put in the front door and then paper bags crinkling when being put on the floor in the hallway. ”Babe? Can you please come help me with the groceries?” Dan shouted and Phil quickly pressed ”X” on the Youtube tab he had open on the computer. When he didn’t answer, Dan called for him again, ”Phil? PHIL?! Can you come downstairs please?”. Phil stood up, pulling the hoodie he had hung on the back of the chair on again, struggling a bit with one of the arms that had somehow turned itself inside out. ”Yeah, I’m coming!” he shouted back, while taking the steps of the stairs downstairs two and two. After another few flights of stairs he found Dan bent over, untying the laces of his shoes. As he stood up again, he saw Phil. He smiled and put his arms out for Phil to walk into, and Phil did just that. Dan gave Phil a quick kiss before nuzzling his head in the crook of his neck. Dan then spoke out, his voice muffled because of him having his face pressed into Phil’s hoodie. ”I’ve missed you.”, he said. ”But you’ve only been out for like an hour and a half?” Phil answered, laughing silently. ”Yeah, but I don’t like people and I don’t like going outside.” Dan said, pulling away from the hug. They both smiled and Dan started handing Phil the bags. He took two in each hand and started walking up the stairs. He put the bags down on the kitchen counter and turned around to go downstairs and help Dan with the remaining ones. But just as he was about to put his hand on the glass door and open it, he saw Dan through it, bags in both hands, under his arms and even one with the handles between his teeth. He grunted and nodded to Phil to make him open the door. He opened it, laughing att Dan, watching him waddle towards the counter and plonking down the bags on there. As he did, he let out a relieved sigh and turned to Phil. ”Why didn’t you wait for me to get the rest?”, Phil asked, “Or you could at least have gone two times?” Phil said, laughing att the offended look on Dan’s face. ”Don’t you believe in my carrying skills?“, he said, gesticulating dramatically with his hands. ”And, going two times are for losers anyways.”, he proclaimed whilst starting to put things where they belonged in the cupboards. ”Have you started editing the video then, Phil?” Dan continued, briefly turning around to look at his boyfriend. ”Um yeah,” he lied, ”I’m almost done actually, so I think I’m heading back up to the office to finish it if that’s okay?” Phil asked, walking towards Dan, gently putting his thumb on Dan’s chin to turn his head towards him. Dan smiled and pecked him on the lips before turning his attention back to the groceries. ”Well, you do that, and I’ll start with dinner.” he said, smacking Phil’s bum as he walked away. ”HEY!” Phil yelled, looking in Dan’s direction only to be met with him giggling and smiling so hard he had crinkles by his eyes. He shook his head, trying not to smile, struggling to keep the corners of his mouth down.

As soon as he sat down in the office chair, he started to frantically edit the video, since he had told Dan that he was almost done, even though he hadn’t even started. He imported all the clips from the camera and put them all in the editing software. Dan looked particularly good in this video, his hair being slightly curly and him wearing his camouflage shirt. Phil loved Dan’s curly hair, and he didn’t get why he was so stubborn on keeping it straight most of the time. About 45 minutes later he had edited the video and had started to upload it to Youtube. As it was uploading Phil remembered the diss track. He could hear Dan shuffling around in the kitchen, the faint sound of pots and pans clinking together in the background. He opened another tab in the browser to try to find the beat Dan had used in the background of his video. After about five minutes he found it, and as he was about to download it to put it on his phone, Dan called him from downstairs. ”Phil! Dinner’s ready!” ”Coming!”, Phil shouted back, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor as the song was downloading. Luckily, it wasn’t long before it was finished and he could go downstairs. Just outside the living room door there was a stereo with an aux-cord and Phil plugged his phone into it. The beat started playing and he walked into the living room. Dan sat on the sofa with his phone in his hand, and on the sofa table there were two plates with tacos on them, as well as two tall glasses of Ribena. As Phil walked into the living room, to the beat of the song, Dan looked up, looking really confused, until it dawned on him what Phil was about to do. His eyes widened and he quickly sat up straight. ”Phil, what the actual fuck are you-” he said before Phil started rapping, cutting him of. ”A month without uploading he comes back with a tag, that no one even tagged him in, he’s not a challenge to drag.” Phil rapped, walking up to Dan, ”So prepare for an attack, and by that i mean cringe, cause this motherfluffer’s ’bout to get dragged by his fringe.” he continued, flicking Dan’s fringe of his forehead. ”NOOOOOOOOO! Stop it, I don’t want to!” Dan squealed, as he launched his body at Phil, holding him tightly from behind. Phil quickly got out of his grip and jumped away from his boyfriend, who looked like he was about to crumple into tiny pieces out of cringe and embarrassment. ”First things first you’re freakishly tall, it’s weird you look like a noodle…” Phil said, holding up his left hand to count every insult as he said them. ”No no no no no no no!” Dan said, trying to catch Phil again. But this time, Phil knew what Dan was about to do, and jumped to the left while giggling uncontrollably, with his tongue poking out between his teeth, which made it really hard for him to rap. He continued the song whilst skipping and jumping around the room in an effort to avoid Dan from stopping him. ”…The only reason you get views, is you’re another white guy, that people ship with his friend, ’cause they think it’s kawaii…” Phil sang as he put a hand under his chin and tilting his head to the right. Dan had stood still for quite some time now, with his hands on his hips, and as Phil looked at him, he saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he was trying to keep a straight face. When Phil rapped the line ”What the frick even is your sexuality?” he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach and joining in with Phil for the last few lines of the song. ”…Repress it? Yup! Before i start crying let’s wrap this shit up. I’m gonna go and masturbate, then cry into a slice of pizza…” they chanted together through fits of laughter. ”…’cause you just witnessed the roast of Danisnotonfire.” they said falling down on the sofa next to each other. Panting and giggling as the song finished. They looked at each other only to start laughing uncontrollably again. Once they calmed down, Dan climbed into Phil’s lap, letting Phil put an arm around his shoulders as he put his head on his shoulder. ”I should be pissed at you right now, but I really can’t. You are such an endearing person and this is just such a Phil-thing to do. But I still can’t fucking believe you…” Dan said, shaking his head slightly. Phil heard the smile, which was probably plastered on Dan’s face, in his voice. ”I swear I watched the video like a hundred times when you went to the shop just to learn the lyrics. That, if anything, is called dedication” Phil said. ”With that much dedication, you could probably learn ’Danger men at work’ too.” Dan said teasingly, poking Phil’s side, and then continuing, ”But I can’t believe you changed the curse words.”, Dan said as he started laughing again, ”Who would even do that?” he continued, the words becoming more high pitched towards the end. He sat up and turned around so that he was facing Phil. ”You know I don’t curse Dan.” Phil said, laughing softly, ”And it’s not like I’d start doing that after almost 30 years because of your stupid diss track.” he continued. ”Say ’cunt’.” Dan said, nudging Phil. ”No, I don’t want to!” Phil proclaimed. ”Phil, just say it!” Instead of answering, Phil leaned forward, connecting his lips with Dan’s. They were soft and warm and tasted like Dan. He put his hand around Dan’s waist and pulled him closer. ”You’re stupid.”, Dan said smiling into the kiss. ”I love you too.”, Phil said, pulling Dan even closer, continuing to kiss him, when Dan abruptly pulled away. ”Oh no! The food’s got cold now.” Dan noted, putting his arm out, gesticulating towards the tacos on the table. ”Pizza?”, Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. ”Pizza.”, Dan answered.

A/N: hi! it’s me again, here to bless your life with another fluffy fanfic. it wasn’t supposed to be this long, but words just kept coming, and who am i to be a party pooper? but i really hope you liked it! and please leave comments with your reactions on it (see what i did there?), as i’m always here trying to improve my writing. hugs, kisses and a bum-nip.