#dan and phil also come under this umbrella

[love-rats]

i fear no longer being in a relationship has created unforeseen circumstances (hyperfixation on british youtubers)

[cozyfoxy]

The Brackenwood Murders Chapter 1

Summary: After nine murders of gay men in Brackenwood, detective Phil Lester is called in at last to help them catch the killer. Dan Howell is always eager to get a scoop for his blog, so he is often in Phil's way. What has the potential to be an easy enough case proves to be much more in depth than Phil expects, especially when feelings come into the equation.

Chapter Two

Read on AO3

“The small town of Brackenwood was shaken this Friday evening when four children stumbled upon a dead body near Juniper Park. The four children, between the ages of eight and eleven, were riding their bikes when one of them spotted what they thought to be a lost shoe sticking out from under the brush, near the walking trail. When the children went to investigate, they realized that there was someone wearing the shoe and ran to find their parents. The police were quickly notified and are currently investigating.

“The body was identified as that of local Jace Pickens, aged nineteen. Jace was born and raised in Brackenwood and was a very active member of our community. Between his studies to become a high school professor and his part-time job at his father’s hardware store (Picken’s Hardware), he also found the time to volunteer at the local Baptist church every Saturday and Sunday, working with children who needed a little extra love. At the bottom of this post, you will find a link to Jace’s obituary. There, you can donate to the Picken’s family, offer condolences, or send flowers.

This is the ninth murder of local gay men in the past six years. All murders have been nearly identical in date, method, and victim type, though the local sheriff continues to ignore the possibility of a serial killer. However, it has been confirmed that for the first time ever in Brackenwood history, an outside source has been brought in to help investigate the murder. A renowned detective who is most well known for solving the string of murderers in Crumbleford all on his own is coming to our small town in the next few days. It’s wonderful to see these murders finally being taken seriously."

Currently, the police are trying to pin the murder on Logan Schmidt, aged twenty, Jace Picken’s longtime partner. Schmidt has alibis, as he was three towns over at his college campus, but they still want to pin it on him. It seems as though the police of Brackenwood want to get rid of the case rather than actually solve it. After six years and nine murders, they’re clearly anxious to have someone to blame besides themselves. Perhaps now that they have an actual detective, they will get off of their lazy, homophobic asses and do something to protect the community here. Follow for real-time updates, and until then, please stay safe out there. It’s just barely October now, and the Brackenwood killer could strike again.”

Chief Brewer groaned loudly and slammed his fist against his desk, sending a few stray papers flying. This journalist, blogger, whatever anyone wanted to call him, always got under the man’s skin. Not only did the author of the post always know more about their investigations than he should, he also had a bad habit of bringing his own views into his posts. Whether Cheif Brewer liked it or not, the blog was quite popular in their town, and everything posted on it would spread like wildfire.

A soft cough from his open door grabbed his attention from his wallowing. He looked up to see a smart-looking man, dressed in a navy blue suit. The man wore glasses that perched carefully on the bridge of his nose and held a dark brown briefcase in his right hand and a slightly damp umbrella in his other hand. Ah, Phil Lester was here at last.

“Detective Lester! Please come in and shut the door behind you if you don’t mind.” Chief Brewer exclaimed, jumping up to shake the man’s hand.

Phil smiled in silent thanks and stepped in, shutting the door carefully before shaking the balding man’s hand. He quickly realized that Chief Brewer was overly tired; deep purple bags were prominent beneath his eyes and coffee in his breath. Phil released the older man’s hand and took a seat, eager to get started on his new case.

“Alright Chief, I’d like to ask you some questions before I start my investigation. Mostly about what you have already figured out, but also just about the town and its people. I grew up just a few towns over, but I haven’t been up this way in years.” Phil explained, crossing his long legs after making himself comfortable.

Brewer cleared his throat and nodded, taking a seat at his desk across from Phil. “Of course, detective Lester, ask anything you need. We want to get this all taken care of as soon as we possibly can.”

“Please call me Phil. Formalities aren’t really my thing. Yes, I’m sure you do, but we can’t rush too much. This is a complicated case, and it has been going on for years based on my own research and understanding. My first question is, of course, why you neglected to call an outside source in for so long.” Phil asked, resting his chin against his fist.

Brewer flinched back slightly at Phil’s nonchalant tone, the back of his neck burning. He didn’t like being scrutinized. “Yes, of course, Phil. Well, we didn’t see it as something that needed help from an outside source. Most years, it was one murder, and that one murder would be the only one in Brackenwood for that year. Not much happens here, you know?”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “So, though each murder happened around the same time every year, with the same victim profile and the same murder method, you didn’t think it was a problem that needed help? The bodies are always found around the same vecinity too, Brewer. The men were raped before they were killed, but it wasn’t a serious problem.”

"Listen, Phil, no disrespect, but this is a small town. We try not to scare our residents unless there’s good reason to. It wasn’t until Jace Pickens was killed and found by some of our children that I accepted that we needed help. We don’t have many leads; whoever this killer is knows how to avoid being found.” Brewer explained, anger tightening his voice.

Phil nodded and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair. “Okay, so I need any leads that you already have. Including a list of people who you have ruled out. Are there any significances that you know of for the dates of the murders? Do you have a profile of your murderer?”

“We do have a profile, yes, but I will be the first to say that it’s not very well put together yet. We believe the murderer is a male in his late twenties or early thirties. He is a local; that much is clear. He would have to be to avoid us for so long. One thing that my team doesn’t agree with is that he’s got an accomplice. I don’t think he works alone.” Brewer explained, opening a worn-down-looking folder, overflowing with papers.

Phil hummed, leaning forward eagerly, “Why do you think he’s not working alone? And you never answered my question. Is there any significance with the dates?”

Brewer pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the desk to Phil, “Because the murders are all almost identical. The keyword being almost. The murder weapon is almost always a blunt object; my team thinks it could be a metal bat. But three of the murders were just different enough. On these three bodies, there were larger bruises. Bruises that were consistent with someone being beaten by fists. I can’t say for sure that it was two people against one, but I do have a hunch that just won’t go away.”

Phil took the paper that was given to him, looking at it curiously before looking back at the older man in front of him and asking, "What’s this?”

“That’s a list of important dates in this town for the homosexual community, specifically in October. I can’t take credit for it, it was written up by a local journalist of sorts. We normally don’t take him too seriously, but at times his posts are helpful.” Brewer explained, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket.

Phil nodded and smiled calmly. “Have you considered him a suspect yet?”

Brewer paused before shaking his head, “No. We don’t even know who he is; he uses a fake name and has strong security measures in place. We’ve tried to get into his computer system, but it didn’t work.”

“Interesting. I will surely be looking into that. One last question for now, and then I’ll be on my way. While I solve the case, what safety measures do you plan on implementing?” Phil asked, focusing intensely on the man in front of him.

Brewer stuttered, “Well, we have talked about setting up a curfew. We’ve already advised any gay men to stay inside and avoid any of their... activities.”

Phil cleared his throat softly. “First things first, I’m appearing on the local news station tonight to explain what my presence means and what we are doing to protect not only the gay men of Brackenwood, but their families as well. You’ve been in this line of work much longer than myself, you should know that pressure can make a criminal act out. This murderer might be frightened by me and act out. Everyone could be in danger. We’ll set up a curfew; everyone must travel in groups, and we’ll have your deputies stationed around Juniper Park at all times. But that won’t be public information. That’s all I’ll need from you for now.”

“Yes, um, thank you, Phil. I just hope this will be over with sooner rather than later.” Brewer said, standing up and shaking Phil’s hand one more time before Phil left the room, writing a note messily in his notebook.

“Brewer doesn’t care about the men dying; he just cares about the image of his town.” ~ Dan was sitting in his desk chair, typing eagerly, when a soft knock on his bedroom door startled him. “Come in!” He called out, not pausing his typing.

PJ walked in, closing the door behind him. “The news is going to be interviewing detective Lester down at the park. Wanna go down and watch?”

"Yeah, mate, I wanted to go anyways. We can get food after.” Dan suggested, saving his document before closing his laptop.

PJ chuckled, “Sounds good. Our readers will be expecting an update soon, so we need all of the information that we can get. Have you gotten anything out of Levi?”

“Not really. He’s been a little distant lately. Chief Brewer has been putting a ton of pressure on everyone to solve the case. Nice to know he finally cares.” Dan chuckled, pulling on his favorite Halloween jumper, a cat with ‘Boo!’ written above it.

Dan’s best friend rolled his eyes. “We both know that he doesn’t care. If he did, then maybe Liam wouldn’t be dead.”

The brunette tensed and looked down at his feet at the mention of Liam’s name. Liam was the third victim of the Brackenwood killer. Liam was also Dan’s first and only boyfriend, the first guy that ever stole his heart. The only guy that ever made Dan drop his walls and fall without fear. Dan hadn’t felt love since the night that Liam’s cold body was found, his lover’s mouth still open in a silent scream. Dan couldn’t help but think that Liam was screaming for him, but he wasn’t around. He was out getting high, just like he had promised Liam he wasn’t going to do.

“Hey, hey Dan. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said that, I just... I fucking miss him too, mate. If Brewer wasn’t such a piece of shit, then he would’ve caught the killer after the first murder. Dan, I’m sorry. Hey, don’t do that; you’ll hurt yourself.” PJ rambled, quickly pinning Dan’s arms to his sides when Dan began to bite his pointer finger.

Dan took a deep breath and looked at PJ with an emotionless expression, “I’m not mad at you. Let’s just go; we can be the first journalists to post about Lester’s plan.”

PJ watched Dan carefully before releasing his grip on him, backing away. “Yeah, that sounds great. But tomorrow, we’re both taking it easy. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.” Dan mumbled, walking past his best friend with a huff.

PJ closed his eyes for a silent moment and sighed. This time of year was always hard on them both, but this year seemed to be even more so for Dan. PJ couldn’t wrap his head around it, but Dan was angerier, more distant, and crying more. PJ could hear him sobbing at night, but he didn’t dare bother him about it; Dan would just deny it anyway. He walked to Dan’s desk, feeling his heart swell in his chest at the old photo of the three of them laughing while carving pumpkins together.

“Are you coming, Peej? Or should I leave without you?” Dan called from downstairs; the sound of jingling keys and an opening door filled PJ’s ears.

PJ rolled his eyes. “Oi, calm your ass down! I’m coming!” He yelled before rushing down the stairs, “You have no fucking patience, Dan? What’s wrong?”

In front of him, Dan was shaking violently, much like the day that Liam’s body was found. PJ felt sick to his stomach. “Dan? Dan?! What’s wrong?” He asked again, running over to his friend. In Dan’s hand was an open envelope, thick from whatever was inside. On the outside, written so messily that it was almost illegible, was Dan’s name. PJ reached out, for Dan or for the envelope he didn’t know; he just wanted to help in any way that he could.

“What’s in it?” PJ asked so quietly that he barely heard himself. The room felt unusually cold, though their heat was on.

Dan swallowed thickly and thrust the envelope to PJ, inviting him to look for himself. PJ reached in wordlessly, pulling out a small stack of polaroids, immediately recognizing Liam in the first picture. The red-haired man was laying on a mattress, naked, tied up, and gagged with tears in his green eyes. In the second picture, Liam was sucking someone’s cock, wearing a blindfold. The last photo was the most intense, with Liam tied up by his wrists and his ankles, with a masked man fucking him from behind. Liam’s mouth was hanging open, and he stared directly at the camera in a way that made PJ want to vomit.

“What…?” PJ whispered anxiously.

Dan shook his head quickly, pacing the small space in front of the doorway. “Read the fucking note, Peej.”

PJ took a shaky breath and unfolded the note, written in the same sloppy handwriting as was on the envelope.

“Liam wasn’t the man you thought he was, Daniel. I don’t often feel remorse for what I do, but I see you at his grave sometimes, crying out for him like he can hear you. He wasn’t studying on Friday nights; he was getting fucked by every man that wanted him. He was never faithful. to you, not once. No man that I’ve killed was innocent. They all deserved what I did to them. So please stop trying over an unfaithful asshole; he’s not worth it.”

PJ looked up from the note, his fingers shaking against the paper. No, it had to be a lie. Liam loved Dan more than anything; Liam was PJ’s best friend since childhood. Liam wouldn’t do something like that, right?

Dan swayed from side to side, “PJ... I think I’m going to be sick.”

PJ dropped the paper and the pictures just in time to catch Dan when he fainted, gently setting him onto the floor and onto his side. He sighed and ran his finger’s through Dan’s hair gently in a way of comfort. As soon as Dan came to, they would need to go to the police. As shocking and as terrifying as the note and pictures were, they could be evidence.

[ferallester]

hoo boy good morning everybody!

I saw the video title a few hours ago when I first woke up, and immediately went back to sleep bc I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it at that hour LMAO

I just saw the thumbnail properly too

this is… this is gonna be an absolute trip huh

live reaction under the cut bc I’m Terrified!

first of all: THOSE ARE THE SAME FUCKING SHIRTS

second of all: ‘nostalgia cannon to the face’

correction: that is in fact a different shirt that Phil is wearing, but it is ridiculously similar, what the hell

‘quintessential emo’ ‘I was serving twink Karen’

‘it’s just… us’ ‘it’s just us being stupid’

‘you’re giving us full sphincter on YouTube’

‘ass and foot baiting’

‘quite restrained’ it’s 2012 of course you’re being restrained

HEART EYES HOWELL COMING IN FULL FORCE WHILE PHIL ATTEMPTS TO TOUCH HIS NECK

I think I found their favourite part of pinof 4 (the cursed Justin Bieber and HMS QEII masks) (lmao imagine if they made actual masks of the boat)

wow those are some really ugly glasses phil

why DO you boys have bugspray in here

‘unless they pressed their noses TOGETHER’ *a sound that normal humans make*

why aren’t they reacting to the blooper videos you guys do know you have bloopers available right

official rating: mid

THE CURSED DAN FACE WAS ON THE SUNDAY TIMES—

oh that is so incredibly unfortunate, why did they use that particular video as a photo reference LMAOOOOO

also who scanned this particular copy what the hell happened to that page

thank you Dan for a recreation

either they don’t want to talk about it or they forgot about 2012

ah. ah that explains a lot about why pinof 5 Looks Like That

PHIL— DAN—

THEY HAD TO REFILM PINOF 5–

the wrecking ball

Dan is fucking relentless with his past self

‘tit tackle’

oh that’s mildly horrifying how low they can go, I think I found an ick

YOU MOTHERFUCKERS— NOT THE REAL VOICES—

I hate them

weirdly the vibes of pinof 5, at least with these idiots reacting to themselves, have gotten. so much worse

Dan able to predict what his past self would do next…

‘crack protected’

oh Phil

a gingerphobic goose…

‘I feel like you’ve recovered from that’ ‘:|’ ‘no?’ ‘A—’

I really hope someone makes a gif of them arguing over the old handshake from pinof 6 and this video

‘assigned mother’ y’know that makes sense actually

successful monkfish backwards!

Phil looks at the camera and Dan just looks at Phil at the end, STOP

they literally JUST used fireside.caf for the shoulder thing actually

the sexy end screen dance also like… horrifically iconic

I always forget about their weird noises they make at the end AND THE BOYS ARE AMUSED

Phil… Phil there’s 8 billion people… on earth… XD

this is the pinof that came out just before I got into them :0

Dan’s hair is. Awful

MOTHERFUCKER DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SHOW US FESTIVE DITL

shoutout to the vyous tho

love that Phil actively remembers that Dan complained about the thickness of the whiskers

‘I AM BECOME YOU’ also cheese umbrella is still awful (affectionate) to this day

THEY BOTH USED THE SUNGLASSES EMOJI MOST RECENTLY

also hello lobster emoji I know exactly why you’re here

pæch

THEY MOSTLY REMEMBERED THE LIZARD SONG—

rip that peace lily

the anaconda scene…

the game does indeed still work

‘TIMMY LIKES IT’

WHAT THE FUCK DID DAN SAY— also I think I found the most iconic moment of this video so far, they’re just DYING—

TATINOF reference

shut the FUCK UP boys we KNOW you’re touching

as someone who once ate a lemon near-whole bc fruit and who regularly eats lemon and lime slices, their flinching is a fail

existential crisis :(

boys isn’t the time for the merch outdated???? anyway moving on

SLUTTY CATBOY

my calendar and sweater are FINALLY shipping btw and I’m so excited!!!!

THEY’RE GONNA DO A TIERLIST :D

PINOF 7!!!! NEXT EPISODE IS PINOF 7, FINALLY I’LL BE ABLE TO RELATE AGAIN

THEY FINISHED RECORDING POPPY PLAYTIME CHAPTER 2 AT FOUR????

‘danisshowinghole’ ‘amazingtimmy’ thanks!

oh my god I can’t wait for part three actually

[giu-world]

[SPOILER]

If the Duskwood characters had spent a day at the beach...

Lilly | Dan

- Dan

Dear diary,

That's how you start when you do this stuff, right? Who would have thought I'd start a diary? But Lilly was so insistent that I finally let myself be persuaded. Damn. What should I write now? 🙄

Well, let's see... Ok, I think I've found the right topic. 💡

Today we went to the beach. It was hell. We split into 3 groups of 3 people in 3 cars. I have never been so haunted by a number like this. 😑

I asked Cleo if could drive it so it would take less time, but Cleo refused. F*ck! Just because I overturned my car several times and am miraculously alive doesn't mean I drive badly! Cleo also drives like a dog. I tried to give her some suggestions on how to respect a car, but I was forced to shut up when she threatened to let me out and leave me on the street alone. 😐

Arriving at the beach (strangely safe), they helped me get back on my new metal steed and pushed me onto the sand. They left me there, like a boiled fish, in the middle of nowhere. And, before setting up the umbrella and having some shade, my face was already half roasted. 🥵

Fortunately, there was a beautiful sight in those parts: 🥹

Cleo looked pretty in her green bikini. Nothing of too exceptional anyway. 😒

Hell, Hannah was beautiful in her yellow bikini with her slim, slender body! 😁

Sh!t, MC looked pretty good in her red bikini! 😍 I think that a beautiful creature like her are wasted with Hackerman's company. 😒

And then there was Jessy. Sh!t! Jessy was an angel in her purple bikini! 🤯

Then there was Lilly. She was still her, in that white one-piece swimsuit with yellow flowers. Nothing of special. 🫤

I was sitting in that awkward position as if I were a withered lizard. F*ck! 🥵 Suddenly I saw the hacker chasing MC and I had the instinct to get up from the chair to protect her from that moron, but I realized that they were just playing like 2 brats. 😑

Just as 2 brats ran up to us and covered poor Lilly in the sand. I went to the side and tried to remove the sand from her shoulders with one hand. She made me tender, so I asked her to go for a bath together. I got Richy's attention and asked him for help. 🧑‍🦽

So, sitting on the sand and with the water at belly level, I was with Lilly who seemed satisfied. At one point, Hannah joined us, followed by her Thomas-doggy 🐶 and we started splashing with each other. Jessy and Richy also joined us. I glanced in MC's direction and I saw her close to that Hacker. 🙄

Hell! I didn't know how to tell her not to trust that shady figure anymore! 😠 But when I saw Phil coming toward us, I felt a real satisfaction to see Hackerboy's happy expression change to anger. 😏

At that moment, Lilly said she felt cold and we decided to go back to sunbathing. Thomas and Richy helped me back into the chair and Lilly took me back under the umbrella. ⛱️

I didn't even have time to put the brakes on when a voice reached us. When I turned around, I saw another shady figure, but this one was of another kind: he was a cop. MC greeted him cheerfully calling him by name. He had accompanied Phil. Alan removed Phil's handcuffs and sat down on the sand next to us. He advised Phil to be good and not to get strange ideas.

Considering he was in that state because of me, I began to feel uncomfortable and looked around, hoping that Alan hadn't told Phil anything. 😅

Then, Richy had the brilliant idea of leaving, because he "had an appointment with a CUSTOMER", as if this strange mythological creature really existed! 😱 Jessy got up too and started to put her things back in her bag, when Richy told her she could stay, especially now that her brother was there too.

I don't know what that guy was up to, but I'd bet my beard that the "customer" story was just an excuse to leave. 🤔 Maybe he had to go to the toilet and didn't know how to say it or he really had to meet someone. Whatever his reasons were, I don't care! 😎

Jessy stayed. She was sad, but she was there, and I was able to take advantage of the situation to make her laugh! 😈

Then, she seems to feel something strange. Jessy begins to look around with alarmed air. She looks behind her and freezes. I turn around too (or at least I try), but I don't see anyone. Jessy calls the others and says that someone is spying on us.

At this news, Alan and Thomas jump to their feet and head to the indicated spot to check if anyone was there. I'd have liked to go too if it weren't for the fact that I'm on this old iron. Phil was sitting on the sand completely disinterested and Hackerboy too.

I began to stare at him carefully. Why didn't he follow Alan and Thomas? Phil has orders not to move, but what about him? Does he know what's going on? Yes, sure. Did he want to scare us? 🤨 After all, what have we been through with the kidnapping of Hannah?! I realized that the confirmation of my suspicions was there, in front of my eyes. Hackerboy was not what he wanted us to believe. He was certainly hiding something and he had gained everyone's trust!

I felt I had to do something. I tried to get closer, but... F*ck! I had to take off the brakes! Stupid wheelchair! 😡

Alan and Thomas turned back. They had found nothing. The others concluded it was just Jessy's imagination. But I didn't stop staring at that strange guy in MC's company. 😠

When we had to go home, I almost felt bad about having to go into Cleo's car again. Who the f*ck established these groups?! 😰

I tried asking Cleo again if I could drive, but she yelled at me in a very sweet way: NOT EVEN YOU KILL ME RIGHT NOW!

Damn, I love her patience. 🙄

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Phil is not on fire 6

Date video was published: 11/06/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 249

Time for another PINOF! They went back to early November for this one, so it had been slightly under a year since PINOF 5. Phil asked for questions on Twitter. And they continued the tradition of alternating who would promo it on Instagram, and it was Dan’s turn. It was a fast-turn around from asking for questions to filming, editing, and posting this one - just 3 days!

0:00 - I like the t-shirts they chose for this one.

0:08 - Dan’s reaction to Phil starting a sentence with “do me” 👀

0:14 - this is the first PINOF that we see Phil drawing the whiskers on Dan at all, and it’s very brief (though there’s more in the bloopers)

0:17 - Dan’s little nose wrinkle in the background! And Phil has such a problem with that for some reason. Dan staring intently at the screen and then reaching out to push his arm away. And then they left it in the video, lol.

0:24 - Phil is me under pressure. And then what he comes up with is “cheese umbrella” ...sure.

0:42 - wow Phil. I’m not sure that’s “sassy” but it is something. Dan wants this to be over so much. 😂

0:53 - Dan blinks twice to take that in and is ready-to-go. I wonder how much they pre-plan for these questions vs. what is entirely improv. I do think that is a skill they both have though...they did it in the stage shows a lot.

0:59 - Phil started off a bit too high

1:15 - love Dan watching for whatever Phil does in response to that

1:21 - Phil had just bought this and another plant recently.

1:26 - I really don’t think this question/joke would have made it into the video even just a year before this. Of course, this is the part Dan chose to leave a YouTube comment about...

1:38 - Love that Phil is looking at this in the screen to start with. So much butt. Also where did “Timmy” come from, lol. This snake was originally from Dan’s now-deleted Krave video.

1:49 - Phil is incapable of not laughing when told not to and Dan is involved

1:56 - Dan’s better at it, but not when Phil starts touching

2:02 - this does not seem to come from any particular tweet

2:14 - yeah I’m gonna go ahead and agree with Dan’s reaction here

2:22 - these days Phil thinks Dan’s singing is “surprisingly beautiful”

2:29 - well this was a sad choice, lol. And an early idea for TATINOF.

2:42 - Phil really wants his consciousness/soul to end up in some sort of robot or machine

2:48 - that jumper is getting a lot of use between the baking video and this one

2:55 - annnnnd right into each others’ space

3:11 - Dan is paying very close attention to this. Phil is disturbed at himself and/or just trying to get a reaction out of Dan

3:22 - that mirror is filthy.

3:25 - Phil’s eye control thing!

3:37 - lots of flinching. Dan waits to fully break until Phil does first.

3:44 - what is happening on this cut-in with Phil tongue and Dan lip bite 👀

3:49 - absolutely love that they put their fringes in the opposite direction and are sitting on the other’s “usual” side. Also Phil should wear more black and Dan should wear more color they look GOOD.

3:50 - Phil’s “accent” slips back to normal almost immediately

3:56 - Phil knows Dan’s about to get payback after that, lol

4:16 - fringe fix for the outro!

4:40 - inappropriate winking is unsurprising

4:52 - is this the first time they acknowledge how hard it is to get sharpie off? They really should have stuck with a different kind of pen.

A return to a more comfortable and highly amusing PINOF, after a bit of a dip for 3, 4, and 5 (in my opinion). This is also the most viewed video of all time on Phil’s channel!

And after no bloopers the previous year, they are back on Dan’s second channel for this one!

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Teen And Up Rated Fics

An Arranged Marriage (ao3) - MarriedPhan1234

Summary: Dan and Phil are forced to marry each other, even though they've never met. Differing life experiences leave the boys unsure of how this could possibly work.

A Stranger I Know Well (ao3) - SoManyRegrets

Summary: “Phil’s got a secret boyfriend," Louise said. "That no one knows about.”

“That is what ‘secret’ means, yes,” Phil told her kindly, patting her head and offering her one of the remaining chairs.

“Does he not go to this school?” Caspar asked, kindlier still. “Does he live in Canada?”

Phil has a secret boyfriend, and everyone wants to know.

A Wizard's Misgivings - jilliancares

Summary: Dan Howell’s entire family has been in Slytherin, and there’s no doubt he’s supposed to end up there too. Phil Lester does’t exactly know what to do when he finds himself liking boys, so he’s usually just horrendously mean to them.

Back to Normal (ao3) - iamphanaf (taylorann14)

Summary: When Dan joins Phil on a family vacation to Florida, Phil’s mother thinks they’ve finally gotten together, Dan panics and goes along with it…

But It Takes Someone To Come Around To Show You How (ao3) - Cutaehyung

Summary:

Phan Mute Soulmate AU. Dan is born mute into a world where once in everyone's life your soulmate will say the specific words that are tattooed onto your body, and bring you together. These words will save your life in more ways than imaginable. Whilst Dan resigns himself to the fact he will never have a soulmate, fate has different ideas...

Emergency Substitute (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: “You could always charm Phil for us,” Jack suggests. “Throw him off his game.”

“Right, yeah,” Dan says sarcastically. “Midway through the match I’ll just Summon his broom to me and he'll fall off and then Gryffindor’ll automatically win.”

“I didn’t mean that kind of charm,” Jack says, under his breath.

In which Dan is roped into playing Quidditch when all he really wants is a quiet life. And for Phil to never leave Hogwarts.

Get Out Your Damn Umbrellas (ao3) - llamalamp

Summary: This fic is based on a brilliant work by wordsongs called When It Rains It Pours (which unfortunately has been deleted). There will be several plot deviations, and the text and dialogue will be quite different, but I can’t take any credit for the storyline.

"Phil's only gone for one weekend. Apparently that's all the time it takes for everything to fall apart."

Basically this is how I imagined the story would go as an established relationship fic instead of slow burn. The result isn’t really any less painful.

If Lost, Return to Phil (ao3) - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Dan and Phil are friends with benefits, which always works until it doesn’t. Dan wishes things could be different, and gets more than he bargains for.

if the sky that we look upon (should tumble and fall) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: 

'I wish I had kissed him at midnight', he writes. A confession; letter by painstaking letter. “Get it together, Phil,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. “This is a lighthearted scrapbook, not a John Green novel.”

Or, 2015 through Phil's eyes.

I'm Waiting For the Day (ao3) - japhanforever

Summary: Dan has been working in the Lester's pet store for two years now, but he has been pining after their youngest son, Phil, since possibly the beginning of time. Phil is somewhat of an enigma to everyone, and Dan wants nothing more than to get to know Phil a little better, but since Phil has never given Dan a second look, it seems impossible. That is until Phil asks Dan to accompany him to a pet expo to help expand their business. Then, a whole lot of things seem more possible. (also this will be chaptered i some how messed that up in the description)

In My Way (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase

Summary: Daniel Howell is 21 and Britain’s newest star. He’s just been cast in the much-anticipated film adaption of Last Man Standing, the popular teen fantasy novel with a huge fanbase hanging off his every tweet. In other words, Dan has made it big.

Phil Lester couldn’t care less. He’s a stressed out PHD student working part time at a bookshop while he struggles to get into post-production. He’s 26 and still lives in a tiny flat on the fifth floor of a building with a lift more broken than it is in use. He loves books, but he thinks big film adaptions screw with the plot too much.

Needless to say, Phil is less than impressed when Last Man Standing is getting filmed in his hometown. And he certainly doesn’t want anything to do with obnoxious, arrogant, so irritatingly perfect leading actor Daniel Howell.

Jesus Christ, That’s a Pretty Face - botanistlester

Summary: Phil is a famous singer who never shows his face, and Dan is a fan that unknowingly meets his idol in a library.

Missing Pieces (ao3) - amczingphil

Summary: When an accident occurs in the middle of filming a new video for the gaming channel, Dan finds himself becoming more reliant on Phil than he was comfortable with. Unfortunately, Dan needs the help and can't push Phil away, but he can feel the situation beginning to dredge up feelings that Dan had pushed away years ago and buried deep within himself.

Secrets We Didn't Need To Keep (ao3) - Ablissa

Summary: Dan Howell. Twenty-four. In love with his best friend and flatmate, Phil Lester, for the past five years.

Dan usually gets by, he does. He won't tell Phil, obviously not. But he can't even picture seeing the man with somebody else, and it seems like this time around, there is a somebody else.

In the middle of the night, we are all suspended in a strange void. In this suspension, secrets become hard to keep.

And that's not always a bad thing.

Shut Your Mouth and Listen Closely (ao3) - SimplyUndead

Summary: Dan is mute with an unfortunate past. Phil is a nice boy with a warm heart and love to give.

the last act of the show (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: Phil has made a living from faking relationships for nearly a decade. His new client is an actor named Dan Howell.

The Pianist Everyone Is Talking About... Is My Husband (ao3) - natigail

Summary: YouTuber pianist Daniel James Howell is thrown into mainstream media's awareness with the release of his first album. Phil works at BBC Radio 1, who increasingly play Dan's songs more and more often, and he couldn't be prouder of his husband. However, no one knows that Dan and Phil are married as they have chosen to keep their relationship private.

By accident, Phil is thrust into his husband's fandom when his colleagues learn that he likes the pianist. Phil isn't sure how to tell everyone that he's actually married to the guy everyone is either praising or swooning over.

waiting outside the lines (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: An not-really-coffee-shop, not-really-uni au in which Phil is confused, Dan is cute, no one does youtube, and there's still a happy ending.

Yellow Love - botanistlester

Summary: The deal is to make bamf!Dan Howell want to date Nerd!Phil. But how can he go through with it when Dan’s eyes are the colour of chocolate and he has a dimple that makes Phil’s knees weak? He decides he can’t go through with it because he’s too afraid of falling in love before Dan ever will.

Your Crowning Glory (ao3) - pasteldanhowells, rainbowchristy

Summary: Dan is 18 years old when the news is suddenly sprung upon him that he is next line to be the next king of Genovia, but things don’t go as smoothly as he thought, between having a suddenly busy schedule, a new lifestyle, an arranged marriage that Dan has no control over, and worst of all, Philip Lester trying to steal his crown.

[silentdescant]

15, 21, or 41, pairing of your choice!

I know you said or but I did all three. I also wrote them in reverse order, which is why I’ve posted them that way. ~300 words each, all dan/phil. under the cut to save your feeds.

here’s the prompt list! feel free to send more.

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella.

“I feel like we’re in a Ghibli movie,” Phil murmurs, almost unintelligible under the sound of the rain. Fat, heavy drops are slapping their umbrella and the wet grass around them, forming muddy puddles along the path.

“Why, ‘cause we’re sharing an umbrella?” Dan asks.

“Yeah, and just how pretty it is. I like the rain here so much more than at home, don’t you?”

They’re looking out over the cliffside, at the dark clouds hanging low enough in the sky to blend into the churning water. Visibility is low, and it does feel like they’re in another world.

The rain is calming, peaceful right now without any thunder or lightning. Dan knows Phil is hoping for some more extreme weather while they’re on holiday, but Dan prefers this, the steady, heavy sort of rain that feels so refreshing when it ends.

He leans sideways into Phil, pressing their arms together from shoulder to elbow. Phil’s holding the umbrella and it wavers dangerously, sending a waterfall of raindrops onto Dan’s jeans.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “You surprised me.”

Dan turns his head and finds Phil grinning, amused and bright in the grey light of the storm. He pushes even closer and presses his lips to Phil’s pale cheek.

It makes Phil laugh. He leans into Dan and turns his head expectantly, and Dan grants him another kiss, this time on his pursed, pink lips.

“You look cold,” Dan points out. “Should we go in?”

Phil’s adorably flushed cheeks redden even more as he smirks at Dan and says, “Well, I’m warm now.”

21. A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company.

When Phil comes into the lounge, Dan tilts his head up automatically for a kiss hello. Right as Phil leans close to him, Dan remembers that they’re not alone and he quickly turns back to the others around the table.

“Are you hungry?” Dan asks, forcing his voice to be steady. “I didn’t know when you’d be back so we started without you.”

Phil sits in the chair beside Dan and reaches for a handful of pretzels, unruffled. He seems as easygoing as ever. Dan wonders if it hurt that Dan rejected his usual greeting. He wonders if Phil’s uncomfortable at all. He doesn’t seem it.

He’s laughing now at a comment from one of the others, and he seems bright and happy and utterly normal, and Dan wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him for joining in the conversation so easily. He wants to kiss him just for acting like Dan didn’t just have an awkward moment. He wants to kiss him just because he’s Phil and Dan loves him.

You’re out now, whispers a little voice in Dan’s head. It quickly builds into a chant, drowning out everything else in the room. You’re out. You can have this. You’re out. You can have this.

Phil looks at him expectantly. Dan missed whatever was said, doesn’t know how he’s meant to respond. It only takes Phil a second to realize and answer for Dan, and Dan is so grateful, so happy to have someone as wonderful as Phil—

He leans over and kisses the side of Phil’s mouth, right at the corner. He feels Phil’s lips turn up into a smile as they touch.

“Thanks,” Dan whispers, and sits back in his own chair.

Phil lays his hand over Dan’s, knocking into his plate and nudging his water glass a little to make room for them to lace their fingers together. They’re in full view of everyone else at the  table and it doesn’t matter. Dan’s never felt more in love.

15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick. 

Phil likes biting. Dan likes bruises. Phil thinks it’s a match made in heaven.

He’s currently nibbling along Dan’s side, which had started out tickling him, but Dan has settled into the sensation now. He’s running his fingers through Phil’s hair and squirming a little, and when Phil’s finished, there will be a lovely line of red marks extending up from his hip to his left nipple.

They don’t last long, really. Phil hasn’t ever laid in bruises deep enough to still be there several days later. He wants to, someday. He thinks Dan would like it too.

Phil swirls his tongue around Dan’s nipple, gentle and careful, and licks his way up to the soft dips of his collarbones. He can’t bite here, can’t leave a mark that might show when Dan wears his wide-neck jumpers. It’s such a tease—Dan loves showing off his collarbones and making Phil insane with the need to mark him up, but he can never actually bite Dan’s collarbones specifically.

He groans and licks up Dan’s throat, planting gentle, wet kisses that won’t bruise at all.

“You can do it,” Dan says then.

“What?”

“Bite me.”

“But your—”

“It’s fine. Do it, come on.”

Phil doesn’t need to be told twice. He feels like a vampire, sinking his teeth in and sucking hard on the side of Dan’s throat. That would be a fun roleplay, he thinks. He’ll tell Dan about it later. When the mark on his neck is shiny wet and dark.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan gasps. He’s squirming more, panting, and his fingers tighten in Phil’s hair. He tugs, his intentions clear, and Phil breaks the seal of his lips against Dan’s skin with a loud sucking noise.

Dan pulls him up for a desperate kiss, clumsy and frantic, and Phil pulls Dan’s lip between his teeth and bites down hard.

It makes Dan yelp and yank Phil’s hair. He whacks the top of Phil’s head lightly when Phil lets him go, even as he chuckles and licks over the spot on his lip. It’s not bleeding. Phil leans in and licks it too, and Dan’s gentle hands soothe the top of his head, and then they’re kissing again, softer now and just as addictive.

They definitely need to plan out that vampire roleplay.

[paradisobound]

World’s Greatest First Love: Chapter 5

Summary: Dan Howell wanted a clean break from his father’s publishing company. It was why he applied for a different company in London: to stop the ridicule of his coworkers for riding on his ‘daddy’s coat tails’. But he wasn’t expecting to suddenly be going from a literature editor, to a graphic novel editor. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to come face first with his first love who broke his heart from when he was a teenager: who just happens to be his new editor-in-chief.

Based on the Anime and Manga “The World’s Greatest First Love: The Case of Ritsu Onodera” aka Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi

Rating: Mature (For Now)

Word Count: 3.2k (this chapter)

Warnings: Drinking/Drunk Interactions 

Beta Read by: @phanandpenguins​

Updates Every Tuesday and Saturday at 1pm EST

READ ON AO3 | READ ON WATTPAD

The wind billows against the window of the library as the rain hits harder and harder. It’s coming down hard outside, and that freaks Dan out a bit, knowing he has to walk home in it. He doesn’t even think he brought an umbrella.

He looks down at his forgotten English homework on the table in front of him and looks between the window and the male sitting in front of him. His eyes are blue as ever, his lips curled into a soft smile, and his black hair falling over his forehead.

But yet, Dan can’t quite make out who it is. The face is unrecognizable, the features a blur. He feels his chest tighten and he lets out a loud gasp.

Dan sits up in bed, heaving loud breaths as he fists portions of his hair in his hands and wills himself to calm down. It was just a dream. A really dumb dream again about high school and about Phil.

He hadn’t had a dream like that in so long that it almost felt more surreal. When he was living in America, studying at the private school in Long Island, he had these dreams all the time, nearly every day. He would fall asleep every night and dream of the faceless figure with the stark features.

But now that he knows that the figure was Phil, his heart beats a little harder, a little faster, and he feels like he might have a proper panic attack. He lays back down into bed, his head hitting his thin pillow, and he looks at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

It’s half past five in the morning. He should really try and get more sleep, but Dan also knows that he has to finish an important proposal to turn in to Phil at seven. So he throws back his comforter and turns the light on next to him. His naked torso shivers as the cool air in his apartment hits his skin and he grabs the first sweatshirt he sees on the floor and puts it on.

Dan doesn’t even want to look at where the rest of his close are scattered. He knows his room is a mess. His apartment is still a mess...his entire life is a mess at this point. He feels like he doesn’t even have control over his life anymore.

What happened to the promising young heir to the Howell Publishing Company? The kid that everyone talked about, that everyone was excited to see come into fruition?

Oh, yeah, he died the minute he got his heartbroken by a fuckboy in high school, that’s what happened.

Dan walked into his bathroom, relieved himself quickly and brushed his teeth, and then hopped over to the shower where he turned on the tap to nearly the hottest setting. He got inside the spray, his clothes dropped behind him in a pile on the floor, and let the searing water touch his skin. It probably wasn’t healthy, to be showering in water this hot, but yet the slight pain and ache that it gave him definitely felt worth it.

In the end, he turned the water a bit cooler and then stood under the spray for a while, just letting the water cleanse him.

***

“No.”

Dan blinks a few times and then furrows his brows. What do you mean no?

“What?” He asks, genuinely confused.

Phil hands him back the proposal form and shakes his head, “That’s not a good proposal so I’m rejecting it.”

In the background, Dan can hear the other workers snicker about the newbie being rejected by Phil. Dan feels his cheeks heat up. It’s been a long time since he’s been rejected for something, let alone rejected by Phil. What was so wrong with the way he wrote his proposal? He wrote it the same way that the examples that Phil gave him told him to write it.

He literally followed them step by step.

“Why isn’t it?” Dan presses, taking the proposal form back from Phil. “You didn’t even look at it, you just skimmed it.”

That part was true. Right before Phil had told him a firm no, Dan had seem him take the form, glance over it, and then immediately reject it. Had he even taken the time to read what Dan had actually written?

Contrary to what Phil must be thinking right now, Dan did put a lot of effort into this. It was his first time ever doing one because at his fathers company, the sales department took care of the proposals for the books. Apparently this company was not like that.

“Well, to start with, you’re not detailed enough,” Phil says. “Where it asks for how you plan to promote the book, you have ‘posters’. That’s not going to be detailed enough for the sales department. Are you doing a signing? Signed posters? Is the author going to do something with these posters? What about commercials? You never even mentioned commercials for it.”

“Oh, well, I can make that more detailed,” Dan countered. “That’s not going to--”

“And!” Phil interrupts, “You’re not proving to the sales department why your specific graphic novel is worth the money thats going to be put into it. You need to convince them that they’re not going to make a mistake publishing your book. Right now, you don’t have an argument and the sales department is going to eat you alive.”

Dan feels humiliated, like he failed a simple task. He feels like he let his author down, who has been working so hard on finishing her piece. He also feels like he failed the company, he failed Phil...he failed himself.

“Dan…”

Phil’s voice cuts through Dan’s head and he sees Phil staring up at him with a soft expression reading on his face, “It’s okay. Every editor here has had their first proposal rejected. It’s not as big of a deal as you probably think it is. It’ll be okay.”

Dan feels like a child, wanting to shrug his shoulders and bellow out it’s not going to be okay! But he knows he can’t do that, because that’s not reasonable. He needs to take a few deep breaths and refocus.

“Your proposal isn’t due until the end of the day today to the sales department,” Phil continues. “Take the time today to work on it. Fix all the mistakes I told you about and then have me look over it a few more times. Really, I promise it’s going to be okay.”

Dan nods his head and forces a smile as he turns on his heels and walks over to his desk. He pulls his laptop out of his bag and sets it on his workspace. He opens the file that he needs with his proposal in it and he begins to slowly rework it.

Nearly two hours into the revising, he can see how much better the proposal is looking with the advice that Phil gave him. He’s coming up with actual reasons on why his authors book deserves to be marketed and sold by their company after editing it. He knows now that the sales department can’t possibly reject this version.

He’s typing away, lost in his own little world as he finishes up the last part of the proposal when a chair is put next to him and he looks over his shoulder to see Phil sitting down. He leans his arm on the desk and looks down at Dan’s laptop.

“Let me see what you have,” Phil says, grabbing the laptop and yanking it from under Dan’s fingers.

“But I wasn’t finished.”

Phil just shook his head and scrolled to the top of the file and began reading it. He fixed a few mistakes as he went, but by the end, the look on his face read as satisfied to Dan. He seriously felt so much relief from that.

“It’s much better,” Phil says. “Finish the last part, give me a printed copy to look over once more and then we’ll bring it to sales.”

He stands up from his chair and puts it back where he took it from and walks back over to his desk. Dan smiles to himself as he finishes the last paragraph, and then hits print in the corner.

Dan makes his way to the printer and picks up the fresh copy of his proposal and he can already feel a much bigger weight lifted off from his shoulders.

***

“Congratulations on getting your first proposal approved by the sales department!”

Dan is putting away his belongings into his bag, ready to go home for the day. He’s actually able to leave a bit early which makes him feel really good for once. He turns to Mitch who is still sitting at his desk, working on his own manuscript for his author.

“Oh, thank you,” Dan answers. “I didn’t realize it was that difficult to have your book be sold.”

Mitch let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms up in the air, “Onyx is a tough company to please,” Mitch says. “It’s really hard to get your proposals and everything approved the first time. Even I didn’t get mine approved the first time.”

“Oh no. Really?” Dan asks, feeling genuinely sympathetic for Mitch.

Mitch shrugs, “It’s not a big deal or anything. But I also didn’t have the help of Phil either.”

“Oh?”

“Phil wasn’t here yet when I started working here,” Mitch says. “When I started working here, the editor in chief was a guy named Bradley. He was never organized and he was a complete prick. Hated dealing with him. When Phil was named the new editor in chief, we all thought Phil was going to be the same way. But Phil actually took our branch and turned it completely around,” Mitch says. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Sapphire is the leading graphic novel branch right now in the London. No wonder we’re always busy with new authors and paperwork. We were always the last choice until Phil got here.”

Dan took in Mitch’s words and felt a warm feeling deepen in his core. He doesn’t know why, but it felt really warming to learn about how Phil turned this branch around. He hadn’t honestly heard about any of that.

“Anyway,” Mitch continues, “I’m sure you want to get home so I’ll save this convo for another time.”

Dan just laughs and nods and finishes grabbing his stuff. He stuffs everything into his bag and puts it on his shoulder as he grabs his coat and heads out for the evening.

It’s not as cold in London tonight as it normally is. It feels nice, the wind doesn’t burn his cheeks. He walks for a while, not quite wanting to take the tube right away as it was actually still daylight for once as when he left work. Albeit not for long it wouldn’t be, but it was nice for the time being.

As he walks to the station, he passes by a W.H Smith and he suddenly feels like he wants to go inside and check out some of the books. Now that he works for Onyx, he definitely wants to check out what books are actually being published by the different departments of the company.

He walks inside and takes a look around at all of the different books. He lets out a deep breath and makes his way up the stairs to where the rest of the books are and he heads to a stack of new books in the corner on the table. He picks one up and looks at the binding and laughs when he sees Onyx Publishing on the bottom.

It’s satisfying in a way to know that the company he works for is actually producing books that he can find in a bookstore. He goes to pick up another one when he hears his name called from behind him. He turns and sees a short female with brown hair and instantly, he knows it’s Kelsey.

“Kels!” Dan says, extending his arms open as Kelsey gives him a quick hug, “How are you?”

“I’m great but how are you?” Kelsey asks. “I haven’t heard from you since you left the company.”

Dan worked with Kelsey at his dad’s publishing company and she was the only coworker he got along with. She was nice and friendly and always willing to help him when he struggled with anything. He relied on her and he knew he was going to be sad when he left her behind to work at Onyx.

“It’s not going too bad,” Dan admits. “I’m editing graphic novels though which I never expected.”

Kelsey cocked her head, “Graphic novels? What?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Let’s go for some dinner and drinks then!” Kelsey says, “We need to catch up anyway.”

***

In hindsight, Dan should have known after the first drink that things were going to go south because he hadn’t ate anything the entire day. His body was drumming with the alcohol and he was already feeling a bit cloudy in his head.

“What is it like working with graphic novels?” Kelsey asks, picking up the last bite of her food with her fork. “Is it easier then working with novels?”

Dan shakes his head, “It’s hard. There are a lot of components to it.”

“Oh really?” Kelsey asks. “They seem like they would easier.”

Dan nods, “I know. But they have like a complete storyboard and everything with them. You have to have the manuscript with the dialogue and the plot points and then after they submit that to you and you approve it, they do the storyboard and that gets approved and then piecing them all together is a whole different story.”

“Sounds tough.”

“It is.”

Kelsey lets out a snort and then downs the rest of her mimosa.

“What is it like working for Onyx?” Kelsey asks, suddenly. “Is it different than working for your dad?”

Dan raises his head up a bit because his reaction is say yes, this is 100% different but then as he actually thinks about the question, he realizes that maybe it isn’t? Yeah, working for his dad was a totally different area than working for something like Phil but…

“It is,” He finally says. “It’s a lot different.”

The door to the bar opens and a bell rings in the air and most patrons turn their heads, Dan included. At first he doesn’t see anyone, so he just dips his head back down but then Kelsey suddenly gwawks, “Oh my! That’s Phil Lester!”

Dan’s head immediately picked up and he saw Phil walking to an empty table with a woman by his side. They were laughing, looking like they were having a good time and for some reason, that really made Dan’s heart race.

“You know him?” Dan asks.

Kelsey nods her head, “Of course! He’s considered one of the best editors in London. He’s fantastic. I knew of him briefly when we worked together but I never spoke to him.” She turns her head towards his table. “He’s with someone. Not all that shocking. I always heard he was a bit of...you know.”

Dan’s stomach turns a bit more but he tries to ignore it long enough to say, “He’s my editor in chief.”

“He’s your editor in chief?” Kelsey asks, her voice higher in pitch. “Why didn’t you bring this up earlier? That’s such a big deal. What is it like to work for him? Is he tough?”

“Phil is…”

“Phil is what?”

Dan whips his head around just in time to see the person in question standing behind his chair with a grin on his face. Dan’s cheeks flush and he opens his mouth to speak but Phil interrupts, “I’m being serious. What were you gonna say about me?”

“I...I was just gonna say that you’re easy to work for,” Dan stutters.

Phil lets out a laugh and then reaches out and gently pats Dan’s shoulder, “Keep telling yourself that,” he teases.

He turns on his heels and walks the other way and Dan definitely now feels like he’s too sober for this. So he raises his head and calls over a waitress and order a few more drinks to take off the edge.

Dan is proper pissed by the time he leaves the bar with Kelsey. She is too but they help each other get a taxi to their apartments. Dan says his goodbye to her and then gets out at his stop and staggers his way inside.

He manages to get his key out to unlock his apartment door just in time for the elevator doors to open and for Phil to step out from behind them, walking a lot straighter than Dan just was.

“You get back okay?” Phil asks and Dan starts to laugh because to him, that’s a dumb question. He’s at his apartment door isn’t he?

Phil reaches out and helps Dan steady his hand long enough to get his key into the slot to turn it. Dan pushes the door open and goes to stagger inside when Phil speaks again, “Are you going to be okay being here by yourself for the night?”

Dan turns his head and when he comes face to face with Phil, his mind instantly starts going back to Phil being with that woman earlier. To him eating dinner with her and sitting with her and laughing with her all night as Dan watched with a sick stomach from the across the room. His blood begins to boil and he suddenly scoffs as he barks out, “Why do you care?”

Phil’s eyes change and soften and then he shakes his head a bit, “What do you mean? Of course I care about you, Dan. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you had that girl you were with tonight. That’s why. You can’t be after me if you’re dating someone else.”

Phil’s mouth opens and shuts and then his brows tighten, “What on Earth...Dan, she is my author. She’s my author who I’m mentoring. She wanted to meet up to go over her storyboard corrections and since we both worked so late in the day, we decided it would be best to grab some dinner and some drinks. There is nothing else going on.”

Dan’s cheeks flush and he tries to hide the obvious guilt he feels in his stomach from accusing Phil of being with anyone because...why is that any of his business? He doesn't like Phil...like that. Not anymore. He hasn’t in ten years so why did he suddenly feel so jealous seeing Phil with someone else? He doesn’t understand.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe he just really doesn’t understand what is happening but he also doesn’t want to find out. He begins to shuffle inside his door when Phil stops him and says, “Make sure you’re sobered up by tomorrow morning. Don’t forget that you have a meeting with your proposal to go over it. It won’t look good for either of us if you stagger in late and hungover.”

Dan doesn’t say anything else. He just nods quickly and then spits out a goodbye and rushes into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. He sinks to the floor and puts his head in his hands because he needs to get this shit figured out.

[maybeformepersonally]

fics i probably will never write #2

the umbrella academy au where dan was one of the 43 special babies but his mother refused to give him up when reginald hargreeves tried to bribe her for him, so he grew up with her and her boyfriend (later husband) until they were in an accident when he'd just turned 17. 

dan was left alone, as his mum had no family and her husband’s (dan’s dad in all but blood) family never accepted him, so old man hargreeves appeared out of nowhere with an offer he couldn’t refuse: basically to legally adopt him so that dan can join the rest of the gang (at this point they’ve been presented publicly as a superhero team). dan accepts because he doesn’t want to have to go into the system, and while old man hargreeves is weird and suspicious, the other teens seem to be well cared for. hell, worst case scenario he can run away.

there’s also another reason why dan accepts, and that is because he’s desperate to get his power under control, and the old man has publicly alluded to helping the others develop and control their powers, and as supportive as dan’s parents had always been, they hadn’t known how to help him. dan has tried to shut it down, but that never worked, and he’s tried to wield it, with limited success, but maybe the man who’s made it his life mission to develop others’ powers can help him overcome his once and for all.

dan has power over the dead. he can see them, he can speak to them, he can even touch them if he concentrates real hard, but he cannot shut them out. it is often gory and terrifying, and almost always sad and overwhelming, and it has led him to see the world through red tinted glasses as it were. he’s a hopeless pessimist, always seeing the glass half empty, and he was diagnosed with depression at age 13 (though he knows it started earlier).

so dan joins old man hargreeves’ little band of misfits at age 17, full of apprehension and (despite himself) a cautious bit of hope, and it’s weird (completely fucking bizarre, let’s be real), but not bad. 

allison is the first to welcome him, a warm friendly smile on her face and answers to all the questions he can come up with while he’s still mostly in shock (there aren’t all that many that first day, but they’ll come with a bit of time, and she keeps answering whenever she can). she’s sweet, and charismatic, and dan is grateful she’s taking the plunge for him, because all of the others seem rattled by dan’s addition to the team (and the family, although dan is pretty sure that’s more a formality than anything real).

luther introduces himself as the leader and he does some passive aggressive posturing that dan would have zero patience for even on a good day, so he mostly ignores him. (it takes him a few weeks to figure out the reason for this was that luther was jealous that allison was being so friendly to him. luther is a disaster, but things go along more smoothly once he realises there’s nothing there other than a budding friendship.)

phil is the only one other than allison that doesn’t look mad or upset that dan’s joining them, just a bit awkward. but he’s every bit as nice as allison, and dan notes every time he makes an effort to make conversation with him or to diffuse uncomfortable silences and the less than welcoming attitude of his siblings, and dan is glad to have him as a buffer when luther awkwardly tries to establish social dominance or when diego makes smartass remarks.

diego is huffy and confrontational, but he’s also incredibly kind when he runs into dan in the middle of that first night when the anxiety rocketed up and prevented him from getting any sleep. dan thinks he’s going to make fun of him, because dan has been here before: antsy and prickly and vulnerable, and struggling to breathe in the midst of an uncaring and cold universe, and whenever blokes who acted like diego had seen him bleed, they’d only strived to drive the knife deeper, and twist. but diego doesn’t. instead, he offers to show him some basic moves dan will be learning in training, nonchalant, as if it’s nothing. diego talks to fill the silence dan still can’t bring himself to breach, haunted by too many spectres, both real and figurative. and it only takes dan a few minutes of careful instruction and gentle conversation for dan to realise diego was not at all what he first thought.

vanya is... different. she’s quiet and unobstrusive. subdued. dan doesn’t quite know what to make of her. he doesn’t pick up on how weird (and fucked up) it is that she’s always excluded from everything on his first day, but when he does, the house dynamics take a slightly more sinister tint to his eyes. 

he really tries with her, because he knows what it’s like to be different, to be excluded by peers, to be considered subpar, less than, a freak, and dan knows that look, dan knows that sallow, withdrawn, desperate look in her eyes, he knows the lethargy, and the apathy, and the pain. he knows, intimately, because that’s what he looks like on his bad days, on the days when he wakes up in a hole, when reality doesn’t feel real and all the colour in the world has been sucked out, when no one can’t break through it to reach him, and getting out of bed feels every bit as impossible as it is useless, he knows, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. 

and so he tries, and he tries, and it’s like trying to run underwater at first, but he’s never felt so accomplished as the first time he makes her laugh, not smile or chuckle but laugh, full and bright and free, and it’s like her face transforms with it. she’s beautiful like that, and dan can’t understand why no one else is trying to bring that out in her, why no one else even seems to notice.

he’d asked allison about it, and it’s one of those times when she doesn’t have an answer for him, but he didn’t mind that because he sees the wheels turning in her head afterwards, he sees her start to pay attention, a cute little frown in her face when vanya is purposefully excluded from activities that don’t even require the use of their powers, and he sees her try to reach out to her sister, and he feels a little better, like he actually made a difference for once, like he did some good. dan is new, is still an outsider (and nevermind that he’s included in the family’s activities more often than vanya herself, who grew up in this house, and how awful is that?), but allison is family, and dan can see how much it means to vanya that she’s trying.

(and why wasn’t vanya trained in physical combat like the rest of them when that has nothing to do with having or using their powers? allison hadn’t had an answer for that one either.)

they don’t talk about five, but there’s a huge portrait of him in the parlour that’s taller than dan, which is saying something.

pogo, despite being the most unusual member of the household, turns out to be the most sensible one of them all, dan himself included.

dan starts training the day after he arrives, which is fine for the first month or so, but then old man hargreeves decides to lock him into his fucking mausoleum (and why the hell does he have a fucking mausoleum on his property, in the middle of the city??) because he’s a fucking lunatic apparently, and dan is so mad he not only has one of the ghosts open the door for him from the outside, but he also offers any of the few dozen spirits lingering there that he’ll lend them his strength so that they can terrorize the bastard. he can only have them interact physically with their surroundings for short bursts of time, and he explains that they’ll have to take turns for this reason, but they seem happy enough with it. it’s not like any living being has been able to see and hear them before, waiting a few days or weeks for the chance to manifest and move things and spook the eccentric millionaire that bought their estate is frankly more than they could have hoped for.

and so, dan declares war. of a sort.

he didn’t tell the old man that he’d freed himself, just went back to his room after a long planning session with the intrigued spirits right there in the garden. reginald was pleasantly surprised when dan turned up for dinner, realising he must have used his power to set himself free.

reginald is a lot less happy when things start to move around unexpectedly in his office, in his bedroom, in his private bathroom, everywhere he goes really (dan’s favourite is matya, the no nonsense old jewish woman that moves reginald’s chair straight from under him so he ends up on the floor. even vanya had cracked a little smile at that.)

in the end, dan ends up building up his stamina and his power gets stronger even as he learns to control it better for mischief-making purposes. before he realises it, he’s spend half a year with the hargreeves, and the odd ensemble had become, if not like a family, then at least familiar. some of them, he’d venture, were even good friends.

first on that list was phil, who turned out to have a wicked sense of humour and a wonderful imagination, as well as being possibly the kindest person dan had ever met in his short but eventful life. he also had the prettiest eyes dan had ever seen. dan had jokingly asked him if they were part of whatever this mutation was that had given them powers, and for the first time dan had seen, phil had laughed at a joke about his powers.

phil’s power was... violent. destructive. eldritch-abominations-levels of terrifying, literally. phil hated it. 

phil was the opposite of all of that, he wished he’d been saddled with anyone else’s powers, even dan’s, even after dan had opened up to him about how being surrounded by dead people who more often than not were fixated on their horrible deaths all the time had been so traumatic for him that he’d developed complex PTSD and depression before he even fully understood what those words meant. phil had apologised about saying he’d trade for his powers in a heartbeat, but dan hadn’t been bothered by it, just sad. because he was pretty sure that if phil could have exchanged the power to destroy others for a power that only brought suffering onto himself, he’d have chosen to hurt himself over being in a position where he might hurt others. and dan also felt guilty, because he knew he wouldn’t be that selfless.

[itsmyusualphannie]

you had me at hydrangea

Chapter 2/6 - take it or leaf it

“I want him to see the flowers in my eyes and hear the songs in my hands.” ― Francesca Lia Block, Dangerous Angels

a phan flower shop/video editor au

(read on ao3) - start from the beginning!

previous chapter | next chapter

~~~

It was raining, Phil noticed as he opened the curtains in his sitting room. Not a downpour, but a steady drizzle that looked like it could go on for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. His aloe vera plant on the windowsill seemed droopy at the lack of sunlight and Phil gave its leaves a sympathetic stroke.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured it. It just looked sadder.

The timer in the kitchen beeped loudly and Phil hurried back to turn off the coffeemaker. It loved to malfunction if he didn’t cater immediately to its demands. Once, when he had forgotten that he’d turned it on, and was listening to music in his bedroom while he cleaned, he had emerged from his room to find the coffeemaker sputtering happily away as it spat, burning liquid all over the kitchen floor. He still had no idea how it had happened.

He got to it now, just in time before it started gurgling dangerously. He collected a travel mug from the counter high above the sink and filled it, splashing in a generous amount of milk and sugar and stirring more violently than it warranted.

Keys dangling between his teeth, Phil grabbed his computer bag from the counter and hauled it over one shoulder, then shouldered through the front door with the coffee balanced in his hand. He somehow managed not to drop anything as he fumbled the items so he could lock the door.

It was Thursday again, and that meant almost no customers at the flower shop. It was a perfect day, albeit a wet one, to work on his project. He realized, after he had already trudged down the stairs and out onto the street, that he had forgotten his umbrella, but it wasn’t raining too badly and he didn’t feel like going the three flights back up to get it. The shop was only a few blocks away, anyway.

It was fortunate that his computer bag was waterproof, as Phil himself was dripping steadily by the time he reached his destination. The flower display out front appeared perky from the rain, soft petals beaded with droplets of moisture. Phil brushed a finger over one, scattering raindrops, and then pushed open the door to go inside. It was instantly warmer than the cool air outside, a gentle draft wrapping around Phil. He brushed wet hair out of his eyes and glanced around.

“Phil!” said Dan, sounding pleased. He always did, as though he was surprised that Phil was still showing up.

“Dan!” Phil rejoined. He reached the table in the corner and set down his bag and coffee mug. The mug clacked loudly against the wooden surface. “Do you mind if I sit here to work?”

“Not at all,” said Dan. He was again swaying dangerously on the stool behind the counter, a pencil dangling between his loose fingers and papers sprawled on the surface in front of him. His hair was especially curly today, Phil noticed.

“Have you had many customers?” asked Phil.

“No,” Dan said, not sounding sorry about it. “It’s very slow today. I’m trying to write to pass the time.”

“Oh, nice,” said Phil, and didn’t pursue the topic though he urgently wanted to know more about it, more about Dan. But Dan didn’t like talking about whatever it was that he constantly scribbled at, sighed over angrily, and eventually crumpled to throw in the trash bin under the counter.

Dan sighed, as Phil thought he would, and looked down at the papers littering the counter. “I guess.” He circled something on one with a casual flick of his wrist and his gaze came back up to Phil. “You’re soaked,” he noted.

“Yes, it’s raining,” Phil said, rather pointlessly, as they could both hear the pattering sound coming from outside. “And I forgot my umbrella.” He wiped fingers through his damp hair again, wishing suddenly that he had done something with it other than the usual quiff. It poked up in odd places now, no doubt, rebelling against the humidity.

“You’re hopeless,” Dan said, but he was smiling. “How did the...er, the housewarming party go? Last Friday?”

“Oh!” said Phil. He had almost forgotten about it, bizarrely, in his excitement to see Dan again. “It went well. We all got ridiculously drunk and I had to sleep over. I wanted to say thanks for the flower suggestion. They loved them.”

Dan waved a hand dismissively. “I literally looked up the meaning you asked for on Google. I told you, I know nothing about flowers.”

“Really, thanks,” Phil insisted, remembering PJ’s and Sophie’s delighted reactions over the bouquet of beautiful sunflowers, right before they had both begun to tease him about his ‘flower boy.’

“Fine, you’re welcome,” Dan said, sounding reluctant.

“Good.” Phil felt like he’d won an important argument, even though they hadn’t been arguing at all. Dan glanced down at the counter and Phil thought maybe he had been looking too intensely at him again. He looked away hastily and pulled out his computer, struggling with getting it plugged in like usual.

There was silence for a few minutes as Phil opened the files on his computer and sorted through them, then Dan spoke.

“Do you only ever come here during the afternoons?”

Phil was a little surprised, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever actually told Dan that he only came to see him. There wouldn’t be much point coming by when Louise was the only one working. His computer was an excellent excuse to sit in the corner and sneak glances at Dan from time to time without appearing creepy. “Yes,” he replied because he didn’t know what else to say. “I mean...my schedule works like that. I’m not a morning person.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Neither am I,” Dan admitted. “That’s why I only work afternoons and evenings. Louise takes all of the morning shifts because she knows I’d never be here on time.”

Phil thought despondently that that was a very considerate thing for a girlfriend to do, but he would probably do the same thing if he had Dan. “Oh. So that’s why I see her so rarely,” he said, as if he didn’t plan out his visits to just see Dan.

Dan nodded in agreement but said nothing else and the conversation trailed away. Phil clicked at his laptop, all at once hating himself for wanting Dan so much that it ached at him. The minutes passed in silence. Phil wasn’t actually very productive, but then again, he never really was when he could be catching glimpses of Dan out of the corner of his eye instead of editing video clips.

The door swept open with a burst of cool air and the scent of rain, and Phil almost jumped at the suddenness of it in the quiet of the shop. A rotund, dripping man plodded inside, his shoes squeaking against the tile floor. The door closed quietly behind him.

“Good afternoon!” the man said cheerfully, to both Dan and Phil. “How are you today?”

“Er, fine,” said Phil, indescribably awkward as the man’s small eyes scrunched at his answer.

Dan had not replied, and he still said nothing, hunched over the counter. “How can I help you?” he finally said, seeming fatigued with only those few words.

The man didn’t seem bothered by his lack of courtesy. “I would like some flowers!” he said. “Something romantic.”

“Roses are the typical choice,” Dan droned, gesturing at the tubs on the wall, “and tulips or lilacs are also an excellent choice for a partner. Would you like help in choosing a colour?”

“Those pink ones!”

Dan glanced toward where the man had pointed. He seemed like he wanted to say something, Phil noticed, but he didn’t and instead took the pink bouquet out of its tub. Phil turned his attention back to his project as Dan wrapped the flowers and completed the transaction, polite, but clearly bored. The man collected his purchase and left the shop as cheerfully as he had come.

As silence descended upon them once more, Phil remembered that he had to buy flowers as well. That was, supposedly, why he came here, after all. He swept his mind frantically and then recalled with a sudden relief that he was going to the Isle of Man that weekend to see his parents. “Flowers!” he blurted and was startled by the loudness of his tone in the shop. For the second time in as many minutes, he felt terribly awkward.

Dan didn’t seem to mind, looking up from the papers that he had been staring at unmovingly. “Yes,” was all he said, prompting.

“For my mum,” Phil said, feeling a blush starting to burn at his cheeks. “I’m going to see my parents. I need to bring some flowers.”

Dan had propped his chin in one hand, watching Phil closely with an expression that only made Phil’s face feel hotter. The loose black shirt that he was wearing dipped at his movement, baring pale skin. “Flowers for your mum?”

“Yes,” Phil said, refusing to feel embarrassed. His cheeks weren’t getting the memo. “She likes them.”

“No, no, that’s sweet,” said Dan. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deep with mirth. “What kind of flowers does she like?”

“Er, daisies. And carnations. But I want to get her something different this time.” Phil hesitated. His eyes fell pathetically on the slope of Dan’s slender neck and the jut of his delicate collarbones. He felt wobbly at the sight of them, as though they made Dan seem more vulnerable somehow. “Is there anything you would recommend?”

Dan looked exasperated at being put on the spot, but after a long moment, he smiled widely. “Yes,” he said. “Chrysanthemums.” He pulled a phone out from under the counter and typed away at it for a few seconds before announcing, “They symbolize optimism and joy. If your mum is anything like you, they’re perfect for her.”

Phil’s face, which had been cooling back to its normal colour, burned again at the subtle compliment. “That sounds good,” he said weakly.

Dan returned the phone and dropped his chin back into his hand, resting his elbow on the counter. The stool creaked ominously underneath him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Also, chrysanthemum. Great pun material.”

Phil laughed, appreciating that immensely. Dan looked pleased with himself.

“So when are you visiting them? They live on the Isle of Man, you said once?”

“Yes,” Phil agreed. “I’ll probably go on Friday and stay until Sunday or Monday. My brother and his girlfriend are going to be there as well. They’ve both got some time off from their jobs and - well, you know. I can take time off whenever I want, as long as I get my assignments in on time.”

Dan seemed actually interested in what Phil was saying, which was a striking contrast to his wearied attitude with the customer. Phil was ridiculously flattered and despised himself for it. “How often do you visit them?” Dan asked.

“Every month or so, at least. It’s weird not seeing them all the time. I told you I lived with them for a year after I graduated while I was trying to get a job, right?”

“Hmm.” Dan considered it. “No, I don’t think you did.”

“Oh, well. I did. I turned down a pretty big job offer because I wanted to freelance, and I regretted it for a while, but then I found this opportunity. It’s amazing - I get to work by myself like I wanted, but it’s technically a regular job.” Phil touched his mouse pad to keep the computer screen from dimming and he stared at the folders that were open when he spoke again. “Anyway, yeah. I moved up here when I got this job. I do have to go to meetings occasionally, but it’s great.”

“I bet,” Dan hummed. “How did your parents take it?”

Phil snorted with laughter. “Oh, I’m sure they were glad to finally get me out of the house. Actually, they moved a few months after I moved out. That’s why they live on the Isle of Man now. I mean, my mum calls a lot and she says she misses me, but...you know. I guess parents want freedom from their kids too.”

“Probably,” Dan said. His expression was pensive.

“What about your parents?” Phil asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, they’re...parents.” Dan huffed, a small smile on his face. “I don’t have quite the same relationship with them that you have with your parents. I mean, I go back for Christmas. Their birthdays and mine, sometimes.” He had been leaning far over the counter, but when the subject changed to his own family, he sat back, barely managing to keep his balance on the stool.

Phil thought maybe he should ask about Louise’s family and how Dan got along with them, but he didn’t actually want to know. He felt Dan would get along great with Martyn and his own mum. He’d probably never be able to find out. “That’s fine,” he said, forcing his thoughts back to the topic of Dan’s parents. “Not everyone has to get along well with their parents.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, peering down again at the papers in front of him. He traced a long finger over one and his face twisted in displeasure at it. He crumpled it and tossed it out of Phil’s sight, under the counter and presumably into the trash bin. “So. Chrysanthemums. What’s your mum’s favourite colour?”

Phil accepted the subject change, shifting in his seat to glance over the rows of colourful flowers that lined the walls in racks and tubs. “Which ones do you have?”

Dan almost fell off his seat standing up. He sounded put out when he said, “Too many. Louise goes overboard. Here, this is the shelf with them.”

Wondering if he was supposed to walk over to the rack of flowers by the door, Phil stood anyway and made his way over. Dan pulled a perky yellow flower out of a tub and offered it to Phil, who took it with trepidation.

“Yellow,” Dan said. “Also,” he brushed a hand over the others to demonstrate, “pink, purple, blue, and this multi-coloured one. You could get a bunch of different colours, or just one colour in a bouquet.”

This close, Phil could clearly see the little freckles dotting Dan’s face and the silver hoop in his ear. He looked so much softer here, rubbing a thumb over sensitive petals, than he did behind the counter seeming vaguely distant and in his own head. Phil was struck by the urge to press his fingers into Dan’s cheeks until his dimples appeared again. He realized he was subconsciously reaching out for Dan and he snatched his hand back before Dan could see the movement.

“What do you think?” Dan asked. He had plucked a few flowers and crushed them together in a tight grip. The flowers drooped sadly at the mistreatment.

Phil looked at them. “More blue,” he suggested.

Dan added more blue flowers. Phil had to agree that it was very pretty, and he told Dan as much. Dan’s face crinkled and his dimples materialized. Phil willfully resisted adding that Dan was prettier.

“I can keep them for you until you leave if you want,” Dan said. He tugged a few more flowers from the bin and added them to the bristling bunch of colour. Phil handed him the yellow flower than Dan had given him earlier, and Dan poked it into the middle of the bouquet.

“Okay,” Phil said.

“Okay,” Dan said back. He went back behind the counter and flourished scissors and ribbons, snipping at the blossoms and tying them together. He had finished and dropped them in a vase of murky-looking water by the time Phil realized that he was just standing there watching Dan work.

Phil hurried back to his seat in the corner. His computer had gone dark and he hit a few keys until it lit up again. “Er, I guess I’ll work on this,” he said sheepishly.

Dan slid back onto his seat. He was still smiling as he ducked his head and pushed at the papers scattered on the counter. “I guess I’ll work on this.”

Phil again wondered what Dan was doing with those papers. He hoped he would find out eventually. Bending his head and going back to the computer, Phil was soothed by the occasional, distant scratching of a pencil against paper.

Phil reached the halfway point of his assignment and Dan didn’t throw away any more papers that day. Phil felt like they’d both accomplished something important.

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[awrfhiphil]

Something They Know

Summary: Phil can control the weather, and he has Dan. However, the future is unreliable.

Genre: Magic AU, Anxious!Phil, Angst, Fluff

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: This fic is part of the same universe as literalweatherman!Phil within London Weather?, which does not have to be read for this fic to make sense.

Phil is not sure how to feel. 

He is happy to be back from tour, but it’s like the whole universe lies ahead. 

They have their documentary to edit, and wisps of plans that they are humoring; yet, it’s like the future lies dead on the grass, covered in mud, and Phil’s not in the mood to get his hands dirty. He’s just tired, and he already took a shower this morning.

Ahead, they have hubbub of PINOF, Spooky Week, and Gamingmas—the seasons which require a lot work within the Dan and Phil household, but there is nothing overarching or with a grand motive. Nothing big, nothing long-term. 

Well, there are still the unannounced tour dates, and that is still stressing him out, despite not wanting to admit it. They even have the documentary that they will start and finish this week. Still, they’ve pretty much worked through everything regarding the tour, yet what’s next?

Phil knows that he really does not need to be doing all this thinking right now. They’ve only been back a day now. They deserve to relax: catch up on T.V. shows, fill up on Dominos, have—

“Hey Phil, do you want to go on a walk with me?”

“Uh, sure!” Phil glances up from where he is staring at the blank wall from his spot on the couch. Dan is looking at him, standing above him. Maybe having a nice day with Dan will cheer up his mood? It usually does. 

But, he feels stuck. 

Phil looks out the window for an answer, “Dan, it’s drizzling. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Dan raises an eyebrow, and Phil rolls his eyes.

“What? I already changed it yesterday when I went to the shops.” It’s a lame excuse, but he doesn’t think Dan catches it.

Dan laughs, “Oh, like you’re so moral all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll do it just because I love you or whatever.” 

Dan snorts.

Phil can hold himself together, and he smiles because he loves Dan. 

Phil hauls himself off the couch to find his jacket and put on some shoes. He grabs his wallet and his charging cellphone that is plugged into the wall.

He follows behind Dan, as they head down the stairs. 

Then, they are outside, and the rain stops. That is something reliable.

“Do you want to go to the bakery?” Dan asks, “I’m craving sugar, and I know that you are too.”

“Sure.” 

Dan bumps Phil’s shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows.

Phil shoves his hands into his pockets, “This is what those pistachio muffins do to you, huh?”

They keep walking. 

Phil was kind of okay, but now he isn’t. He hates that. As all the people busily walk by, his chest feels tight and everything feels shallow. He tries to keep up his pace and mask the sound of his breathing. London doesn’t care, even though it owes him. 

It starts drizzling because he isn’t concentrating, and the surrounding world doesn’t exist, despite it being all he can think about. The people around him who press forward are starting to break out their umbrellas. 

Dan turns to look at him. Dan notices the rain. His curls are flattened.

Their eyes lock, and Phil hates how obvious he is—how shit he is at holding things in. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good—just don’t feel the greatest.”

“Do you want to go back?” 

Phil shakes his head. “We’re almost there anyways.” He can do this. 

Dan’s knuckles brush the side of Phil’s thigh, as Dan walks beside him. It’s brief, but it’s there. Phil is grateful.

Phil takes a deep breath, and he tries to focus on arriving at the destination: one foot in front of the other, do not get hit by any car, bike, or human passing by, concentrate on breathing—in and out and in and out. He is the gliding, smooth dot on Google Maps, getting closer and closer: “Three minutes until arrival at your destination.” In and out and in and out.

Three minutes, and they do arrive. 

“Go find a seat, and I’ll get something for you,” Dan says before he goes up the till, leaving Phil. 

Phil nods and looks around the room. Everyone looks the same, existing within the mechanic framework of society. It’s both flawless and seamless. Phil is feels like rust—it must be the rain, it’s always the rain. In and out and in and out.

Okay,  

Phil sinks into a booth against the window, slouching against the worn-in leather. As his head, like the shop around him, hums and prickles, he watches the raindrops slide down the cool glass and the faceless people worm past. His breath comes in shaky, but he tries to keep quiet and ignore everything. Focus on the rain. However, the bustle of the bakery buzzes around him, and he still can’t begin to separate one mechanical voice from the other. Its weight squeezes. He can’t stop it.

Dan comes with two warm drinks and a paper bag tucked under his arm. 

“Thank you,” Phil manages.

He takes a paper cup with two hands and lets the steam hit his face. He takes a sip. It’s warm.

He still feels out of place, but the heat is nice. Grounding, humanizing. 

“I thought you’d like this chocolate croissant.”

Dan smiles, but it dies from his eyes until it is the mere movement of muscle when he looks through the window.

“Can’t escape this London weather, huh?” Dan says, focused on the rain. It looks like he’s trying to will it away.

“Apparently not,” Phil replies. 

He says that while looking at his drink.  

“You know you can tell me, Phil.” Dan is looking right at him.

“Just anxious.”

Dan rests his chin on his hand with his elbow on the table, leaning forward, “The adjustment of coming back from tour bugging you?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you’ll come around.”

“I know.”

“One step at time.” 

“Yep.”

“You know that change can be good. I know you know that.” He pauses. “But yeah, it’s a lot. I’m surprised it’s you instead of me that’s been getting down.”

Dan links his ankle around Phil’s under the booth. 

Phil glances up, and his shoulders relax a bit. Phil exists; he isn’t rust.

“I’ll be here.” Dan says it with confidence.

Phil takes a sip and looks out the window. Then, he looks back at Dan. Their ankles are still interlocked. He still can feel it under the table. 

“And I will be too.” Phil says it without thinking.

Dan’s red spot on his lower jaw, reddens.

“We’re cheesy shits, aren’t we Phil?”

“I mean, it’s what we do best. So, why not?” Phil says, as he cracks a small smile.

He still can feel it under the table. 

The tightening hum recedes for a bit.

~

His mum figured out he could control the weather; then, she found out he liked boys. It had been a rough night before, caught between his life at university and what would come next, and he needed some fresh air. It was morning. It was raining.

In a daze, tired, disgruntled, terrified, he slumped down the stairs from his room, and he pried open the sliding glass door in the kitchen, stepping barefoot onto the muddied grass. He looked up, and he stopped the rain. It made him feel a bit better, despite his pounding head.

Yet, his mum had been watching him, sitting at the round wooden table, drinking her coffee. He hadn’t noticed, as he was too busy staring at the sun as if it were both a stranger and friend to be. A lover.

He really needed coffee, he was mad at getting his feet muddy, and now he had to shower.

But, she says it out of the blue. With a maternal instinct, warm: “You can make the sun shine, child.” 

Thunder cracks, and the sky rips apart. His heart pounds and his chest tightens.

Phil wants to vomit all over the ground—then, he would’ve really needed to shower. 

He takes a slow step inside, despite the weather, and says, “Mum, I—”

“When you were a child, a baby really, I would take you on walks around the neighborhood in your pram. Whenever it started raining, you would look up at the sky with a smile, and instantly, the sun would start shining again. You’ve always had your grandmother in you. Your father never really saw it, but it’s the sort of thing one just knows instinctively. It’s okay, Phil— ”

“I also like boys.” 

It is forced out of him. Phil doesn’t know why.

He turns to shut the glass door.

It’s steadily pouring, and Phil’s mum looks worriedly out the window.

He curses himself for making it sound like a question when in fact there is nothing to question.  

She gives Phil a comforting smile—the kind that only mothers are capable of. And Dan. But he doesn’t know that then.

“Love, it’s okay. Come here.”

Phil walks over, tentatively. 

They embrace. Phil is not sure how to feel.

Well, he feels better.

Now.

~ 

Dan knows the London weather better than any meteorologist out there. 

And the sun always shines somewhere, at the very least.

Despite it all.

They learn that together. They know that.

[fandom-games]

Rain Walk

Author: con_ka, NiennaErso

Beta: black-with-sparkles

~~~

Winter came cold and wet, with rain falling nonstop on everyone’s nerves. No snow, just inconvenient water, hoping to wash London out of its countless sins against the world. Rain had just never been more unpredictable than it was this time of year. And sure, Phil could argue that their weather was too bipolar to ever make sense in a forecast, but that was beside the point. The facts were that he was now stuck inside a shop, again, due to a noticeable lack of umbrellas on his person. Now he had to wait, yet again, for Dan to show up with his smug ‘You’re a failure, Phil Lester’ face he always does.

I should have waited it out. He sighed inwardly. He could tell the cashier was pitying him; at least he wouldn’t get kicked out just yet. He placed a bag filled with new sweaters against the door, shoving his fingers inside his coat as he watched the rain fall, with it occasionally sprinkling joy onto his face. Phil found himself lost in the motions, mesmerised by the stream flowing on the sidewalk. Good luck on finding the ocean, little river…

“Beep beep, one cab for the AmazingPhailure. With a Ph.”

Phil’s breath hitched, startled. Dan had seemingly emerged out of thin air, smiling as he held his black umbrella over his head. In truth, he’d walked up to a very distracted Phil in a casual manner, but Phil is more convinced that his friend is actually an evil warlock who shapeshifts into sad weeping clouds that ruin his hair.

Not that it made any sense, mind you.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that! When did you come here?!”

Dan stepped closer under the roof of the shop, wriggling his umbrella out of water. “Don’t utter the lord’s name in vain, Phillip Michael Lester.” He gave him the smug look, to which Phil groaned. “I came here just now, but you weren’t on this planet. What were you thinking about?”

“I was just… Looking at this stream.” Phil nodded at it, prompting Dan to follow his gaze.

“…Why?”

“Well—” Phil stopped, his face a shade redder. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Dan knew why he stopped, and he didn’t like it. Even as Phil got more comfortable with sharing his thoughts intimately, opposed to his one-sided YouTube channel, he still would get embarrassed thinking he’d be rejected. That won’t do. Dan was determined to get it out of him, no matter how stupid it is.

“With all due respect Phil… Practically all your ideas are stupid.” He giggled affectionately.

Phil widened his eyes, offended. “Hey!” Dan offered him an easy grin, patting his shoulder.

“But, but, but! They’re definitely the reason behind your success. So, share it. It might be entertaining for me, yeah?” Dan pulled on Phil’s coat sleeve, urging him to join Dan under the umbrella, and into the street. The street faded into the background, as it always did whenever they found themselves talking. They were in a bubble of their own making, firm against the wind, a filter to all nearby distractions. Anything can be said inside the bubble, even if it earned them strange looks as they walked by.

“Hm, true.” The rain was brushing at Phil’s left shoulder. There was only so much room under an umbrella, after all. Dan noticed it and pressed himself closer. His presence was warm to Phil, and he continued speaking once they both settled on a rhythm that didn’t wet them both too much.

The thought of it was dirtier in Phil’s mind, and he mentally waved it off. “I was just thinking about it, the stream. How it one day yearns to be a river where animals would want to drink from, and grass would grow on its banks. It’d lead straight to the ocean, instead of some stinking storm drain. It wouldn’t be used for our showers and our shit. It wouldn’t have been swayed by whims. It would have carved its way to the ocean, through the lands and the mountains, carrying with it all creatures that want to be free too. I think that’s a very strong dream. Good luck little guy!”

Dan’s pace slowed, his eyes twinkling at his friend. Sometimes Phil would say things like that, and his words would always take Dan off guard. He was suddenly awash with interest, then with a twinge of sadness.

“Yeah, it is.” Dan said carefully. “But it’s still leading to a sewer, so I guess grand dreams don’t come true sometimes, no matter how much the stream wished it did.”

Phil turned to him, frowning. He wanted to hear a ‘Bazinga’ or anything that would indicate his friend was joking. Of course, he was, they were talking about a random stream of water like it had a theory of mind. But Phil knew, his friend was doing the thing again; he was shrouding his serious tone underneath a jolly façade.

To be fair, that is seasonally appropriate. Phil mused. Maybe it was a good moment to push it a little farther. And so he literally did. The good invention that was the umbrella worked as an excuse for him to lead his friend round the corner. A familiar coffee shop greeted them a few steps away. They both shared a knowing look, remembering the importance those places hold in their friendship. The decision of going in was mutual and didn’t need saying.

“How funny is that I have one shoulder wet and the other one is dry? I feel like a cartoon character.”

“You also look like one.” Dan added.

“Hey!” Phil softly pushed Dan’s side, not even bothered at all by his teasing.

“Just saying, that weird shape of your head is not human, I swear”

“That’s not what you said about it the first time we came here.”

“Well, a lot of things are not the way they were when we came here the first time.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“What?”

“Come on, Dan. You know what I’m trying to do here.”

“Which is…”

“You said that not all dreams come true, but you know what?, at least ours are. Can’t you see it?”

“Did you dream of this too?”

“Duh.” He whispered.

“Well sorry for not knowing all about your dreams. It would help if someone told me more about them.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to know what goes on in your brain, Phil Lester. Don’t ever forget that.”

honestly the rainy winter is a huge mood.  98 points! your team has completed this challenge! -leo

[ezilo]

Look. We’ve been having storms for the last week and I’m trying to distract myself from the utter failure that was my German literature exam. So here’s a little tidbit 😊

Tags: phan, au, first meeting, lots of fluff, rain

 He’d heard it on the news in the morning, of course. He remembers the chipper lady announcing storms in the afternoon, but he’d promptly ignored her, eyes focused on his fingers that were fiddling with his laces yet again. He was so concentrated on making sure his shoes were on properly that he forgot to take his umbrella with him. He’d even seen it, from the corner of his eye, hanging cherry red next to his coats. He’d seen it, but Phil’s mind had never been on things his eyes see.

So he ended up soaked as he exited the tube station coming home from work, passing disheveled looking Londoners leaving dark drops of water behind them and splashing everyone with their intimidating glares. It had been electric, the urge to run that the heavy rain set upon him. He felt the cold, the way his jeans stuck to his skin, how his hair was plated on his forehead suddenly. It was nice that that wasn’t a familiar feeling now, that he got brave enough to get rid of the fringe. Everyone in his life thought it was strange that he cared about a hairstyle as much as he did. They were teasing, or trying to be empathetic, a smirk or a pitiful smile playing around their lips. Phil didn’t like it, but he understood it – he had always been a strange boy, he had just gotten taller.

 So he ran. He ran through the drops and the cold and strangers’ umbrellas scratching his head. He ran and his feet fell into puddles and into the little rivers running along the pavements. He grinned at the apocalyptic-like world, the sound of the rain drowning everything else out, the dampness seeming to insert itself everywhere in him, every inch of the world covered in a shuddering cold, and crossed the street, water gathering in his shoes. Once he’s inside, it gets uncomfortable. It had been vivifying, when he’d been under the storm, but now the dampness feels out of place on him, in this stifling dryness. The two don’t combine, don’t match up, and he rushes to his apartment, his jeans clinging to his skin horribly, and he’s so cold. He peels the wet clothes off, and feels at home in his soft pajamas. He takes the time to make himself a hot chocolate, the smooth, brown and enticing surface barely visible behind too many marshmallows, fumes of sugar invading his nose and brain it seems. He sits by the window and lets the sugar melt and revels in the overwhelming feeling of warmth and sugar and home and the three melting together and intertwining, sparking a familiar sense of comfort. In these moments, he thinks maybe being a ‘creature of comfort’ isn’t such a bad thing, listening to the murmur of the rain.

That’s when he sees a dark figure cutting through the rain, barely more than black dots. But he imagines what that must feel like, he knows what it’s like, to be dripping and cold and alone, and the figure isn’t even running. Maybe the magic of rain doesn’t work on everyone. Phil kind of wants to make it work. The person is just standing there and Phil aches for them.

So Phil jumps up, grabs the umbrella this time, and stumbles down the stairs in a hurry. When he opens the door to his building, the wonderful hush of rain fills his hears, and a cold gust flies into him, past him, but Phil doesn’t care. The man is tilting his head towards him now, and Phil squints, the rain making his vision difficult, even through his glasses.

“Hi there.” And oh. That’s an addition the sound of rain he actually likes.

“Hi. Why are you in the rain?”

“Can’t exactly stop the rain can I?” Phil almost rolls his eyes at the answer. Instead he just smiles.

“Well you could also try to find cover.”

“I could.” There’s something somber in that answer, something hoarse and like he hasn’t really spoken in a while, the man’s eyes find the ground, his arms tighten around his sides. The silence should be awkward, Phil thinks, he has experience with awkward silences (and breaking them with something a lot more awkward), but it’s not. Maybe it’s because the rain fills it.

“Then why don’t you?” he feels bold, and rude, but he wants to ask and for once he goes for the things he wants, instead of staying safe. It’s the magic of the rain, he thinks. Or the quiff. The man studies him then, looking up sharply, and seems to doubt he actually asked. Phil shrugs, but his smile stays.

“Maybe I like the rain.”

“You like pneumonia too then?”

He bursts out laughing, and Phil decides he likes that. The man fits in the rain, looking sad and greyed out, but that laugh doesn’t, and maybe that’s a good thing too.

“I won’t get pneumonia from standing in the rain. Also the tube station is closed so I have to walk home in this weather and I don’t want to.”

“So you’d rather stay put in the rain than walk in the rain even though you’ll have to walk at some point. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Never said it did.” For some reason, they’re both grinning.

“Well…” Phil opens up his umbrella, walks over to him, and settles it over both of their heads, so they’re both at least mostly dry. “You can walk there with an umbrella now.” And he smiles even wider, barely noticing how instinctive it suddenly feels. The man looks surprised, incredulous, but smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, eurm sorry what’s your name?”

“Dan. You?”

“Phil.”

“Nice to meet you Phil.” He stretches out a hand, but Phil has to switch the umbrella to his other hand to extend the hand that’ll fit his, tilting it and exposing Dan to the rain a bit.

“Oh sorry sorry! I didn’t mean to!” that same brightly colored laugh cuts through his apology.

“It’s okay. Does that mean it’s not nice to meet me though?” Phil’s cheeks color, he feels the heat spread.

“No no! I’m just a clumsy mess, it’s very nice to meet you.” Dan nods and snickers some more and takes the umbrella from him.

“I better take that then.”

“Sure.” Phil breathes out because Dan just had to cover half his hand in the process of taking the umbrella from him.

“I better go then. You should head home.”

“Oh okay. But won’t you miss your umbrella?” Phil smiles and lets his eyes stay where they are, diving into Dan’s, unashamed, maybe a little bit bold for his standards.

“I’m sure you’ll bring it back, won’t you Dan?” he gets a smile back, maybe a little bit daring, maybe a little bit more.

“I definitely will.” They smile at each other for a second more, under the pitter patter of the rain against the red of the umbrella, sending a warm glow onto Dan’s skin and curly hair. It’s nice. Phil nods then, ducks his head, turns away, and just as he prepares to head back to his building, lets a hand rest on Dan’s forearm, just for a moment, before fleeing, running home. He turns back as he heads inside, waves a goodbye. Dan’s beaming, and he hears a “See you soon!” just before the door shuts.

He’s drenched again. It’s worth it.

[danfanciesphil]

Phan Teacher AU (Part 4)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

This is all Mr Horowitz’s fault. 

Okay, so it’s also a little bit Dan’s fault for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a sensible coat, but in his defence, he had no idea this would happen. 

Normally, Dan’s walk to the bus stop after school is little more than two minutes, and so far he has always made it in time to catch the 3:17 bus. It’s a good thing too, because Dan knows that the next one doesn’t come for another hour. 

He’d been on his way to catch this same bus, in fact, when Mr Horowitz caught his arm, asking whether, before he left, he’d just run upstairs to the labs and clear up the experiment from the last class. Dan, being the school’s servant boy, couldn’t exactly refuse. He’d raced up to the labs at just after 3pm, cleared the desks in lightning speed, run a broom over the floor and sprinted to the bus stop. 

But alas, the sight with which he was greeted was the tail end of it, chugging into the distance as the rain pelted down. 

So now, Dan is stood, shivering like mad, in the downpour. It’s currently 3:30pm, and he still has another 47 minutes before the next bus. 

“Fuck you, Horowitz,” Dan mutters under his breath, which comes out in a silvery puff of steam. 

He wraps his thin jacket around himself a little tighter, rocking on the balls of his feet. Students keep passing him by, some sending sympathetic looks, and some chuckling at his plight. Dan knows he must look an absolute sight; his hair is probably plastered to his head, and his smart shirt and skinny jeans are so drenched that they’d fill a few jugs if they were wrung out, he’s sure. 

“Wanna use my Physics textbook as an umbrella, sir?” A Year 11 student Dan vaguely recognises calls out as they walk past, laughing. 

Dan shakes his head with a grim smile. “No thanks,” He replies, as tactfully as he can bring himself to be. 

It’s at this moment that a car pulls up to the bus stop, pausing right beside where Dan is stood. 

The window rolls down, and Dan’s immediate instinct is to run away - a product of the copious amount of ‘stranger danger’ warnings instilled into him during his teacher training. 

Then, the driver of the vehicle leans across the passenger seat, and Dan nearly wails. It’s Phil. Of course it’s Phil. 

“Hey!” Phil says, a glimmer of amusement in his cobalt eyes. “Need a lift?”

Trying his best not to think about the fact that he looks the worst he ever has, Dan forces a tight smile, leaning towards the open window. 

“Hey, hah- yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare for the weather today.” Dan says, chuckling at himself. “But it’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I live really far away. I’ll just get the next bus.” 

“When’s the next bus?” Phil asks. 

A car behind him slows to a stop, unable to get past. Dan glances up at it worriedly. The driver, an older man in a suit, looks impatient. 

“Um, in forty-five minutes. Ish.” 

Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “What?! You’re planning to wait here in the rain for that long?”

Dan tries to give Phil a bright smile, like he’s fine with it, but a raindrop falls from his forehead into his eye, making him wince. 

“Y-yeah, it’s okay, I’m-” Dan cuts himself as a sneeze surges up out of nowhere; he just about manages to turn away, aiming it into the crook of his elbow. 

When he looks back up at Phil, he does not look pleased. “Dan,” he says, his voice dropping to his firm, teacher tone. “Get in the car.” 

Partly because the gentleman behind Phil has begun honking his horn, and partly because his knees have jellified at the sound of Phil speaking to him this way, Dan pulls open Phil’s passenger door and climbs in. 

It’s so warm inside that he could cry. 

“I’m gonna get your seats all wet.” Dan says mournfully, trying to take up as little space as he can. 

“They’ll dry.” Phil tells him, turning the heater up until it’s blasting over Dan’s face and chest. “There are more important things than courtesy, you know Dan.”

Dan turns to him, trying to work out whether Phil’s annoyed. He watches silently as Phil pulls away from the kerb, joining the thick muddle of after-school traffic inching its way towards the main road. 

“My mum raised me to be a polite young man,” Dan jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

“My mum raised me not to put my health in danger for the sake of asking a friend for a lift once in a while,” Phil replies, looking over at Dan. The windscreen wipers squeak as they battle the awful weather. After a moment, Phil sighs, his expression softening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you. But come and find me if you miss your bus again, okay? I’d rather drive a bit out of my way today than have you turn up tomorrow with pneumonia.”

Dan nods guiltily. “Wait till you see how far away I live before you get too generous.”

*

“Wow,” Phil whistles, eyebrows raised as he stares down at Google Maps on his phone. “You weren’t kidding.”

They’ve pulled into a layby, the rain still thundering against the glass. It doesn’t matter though, because Phil’s car is warm and dry. It’s littered with little plastic toys, highlighting Phil’s quirkier side. There are Marvel superhero bobble-heads blu-tacked onto the dashboard, and the cupholders are filled with keyrings that look like they were won out of those two-penny slot machines.

There are also sweet wrappers scattered around - skittles, starburst, pick ‘n’ mix, or anything sugary and colourful. 

None of it seems anything other than incredibly endearing, though. Dan could spend hours rifling through this car, which is so intrinsically Phil, just learning about him through his clutter. 

“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. “It’s a forty minute bus ride.” 

“You do that every day?” Phil asks, looking up at him in wonder. “Twice a day?”

Dan shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

It would be a lot worse if he had nothing to look forward to once he actually got to the school, Dan thinks privately. 

“Um, don’t worry about taking me all the way,” Dan says quickly, “just drop me at another bus stop or something on your way home-”

Phil flaps a hand at him distractedly, turning back to his phone. He pinches the map, searching the screen for a route to take. 

“No, no, I don’t mind taking you,” Phil says, chewing his lip. He looks up, out of the windscreen, appearing to have some sort of internal debate. “It’s just... well, do you mind if we make a stop?”

Dan blinks at him. 

“Uh, a stop?” He asks, uncomprehending. 

“Yeah,” Phil replies. “It’s just that I need to let my dog out. Would you mind if we stopped at mine on the way? I’ll take you straight home after.”

Dan pauses for a moment, the words not sinking in straight away. Phil wants to take him to his house, where he actually lives, and he’s asking if that would be a problem.

“Phil, you’re literally rescuing me from a storm,” Dan says slowly, watching the bashful smile spread over Phil’s gorgeous features. “You could drive me via the Eiffel Tower if you wanted.”

Phil grins at him, putting his phone down and releasing the handbrake. “Maybe we should save the Eiffel Tower for another time.” Phil side-eyes him, questioningly. “Like in two weeks?” 

Dan’s already racing heart picks up a little more speed, the fact that he is currently en route to Phil’s actual house beginning to seep into reality. He laughs, feeling awkward about what Phil is implying. 

“Yeah, I still haven’t decided whether I’m coming on the trip yet,” Dan says, hands clasping together in his damp lap. 

“You know it’s free for teachers, right?”

“I’m not a teacher.” 

Phil smirks. “I’m sure I can persuade John to let you in free of charge.”

“Who?” Dan asks.

“John. Mr Green.” Phil clarifies; Dan just stares blankly. “Vice Principal of the school?”

“Oh,” Dan says, vaguely remembering a ‘VP Green’ showing him round on his first day. “I haven’t seen him since I first started. Sorry.”

“Well, he’s coming on the trip.” Phil tells him. “So, that’s a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.” 

“Right, because having an awkward conversation in Paris with the Vice Principal of a school I’m heavily under-qualified to work at is top of my to-do list.”

Phil laughs heartily, pulling off the main road into a suburban maze of small houses. They can’t be more than ten minutes from the school. Dan gazes out of his rain-speckled window at the idyllic neighbourhood, trying not to be too obvious about how badly he wants to soak it all in. 

“You’re not under-qualified.” Phil says, leaving no room for argument. You’re one of the best TA’s I’ve ever had.” 

Dan stays quiet in the face of this statement, not sure how to handle it. 

“Besides,” Phil continues, to Dan’s relief. “John’s actually a pretty cool guy,” 

As it has rather often since the film screening on Wednesday, Dan’s mind wanders to thoughts of Paris, of being there with Phil and the rest of the Year Nine class. In his current state of awkward, socially inept pining over the class’ teacher, Dan’s not sure he’d be able to handle the experience. 

Yes, it would be an amazing opportunity, and undoubtedly fun at times. But the class already tease Dan, sensing his overly-fond opinion of their favourite teacher despite him trying to keep it under control. It’s hard to imagine an entire weekend of that, in the so-called ‘city of love’, whilst attempting at least a shade of professionalism. 

Not to mention how uncomfortable the whole thing could make Phil. 

“But I don’t wanna pressure you.” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s tumultuous thoughts. “I just think it’d be fun if you came.” 

Before Dan can properly comprehend that statement, let alone reply to it, Phil is pulling the car over and switching off the engine. 

They’re parked in the middle of a quiet, orderly street, right outside a cute little bungalow, complete with a neat front garden and little pathway to the front door. 

“You live here?” Dan asks, awed by how... lovely it is. 

Phil chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No Dan, I brought you to someone else’s house and we’re going to break in.” 

Dan turns to narrow his eyes at Phil, who just laughs more. 

“Come on, let’s get inside - it’s still belting down.” Phil says, unfastening Dan’s seatbelt before he gets the chance. 

Dan takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to prepare himself for what’s about to happen, and follows Phil as he hops out of the car, and jogs to the front door. 

*

If Phil’s car is telling of his personality, his house is as though he’d cracked open his chest, scooped handfuls of his soul out and splattered it all over the walls. 

Dan has never seen any sort of interior design that represented a person so well before. It’s not just visually appealing, it’s also a spectacle to behold. Dan’s sure that by just opening one random drawer in Phil’s house and glancing at the contents, he’d understand a thousand more things about this man, strange and enigmatic as he is. 

They enter into a small entrance hall, painted a sunny yellow. There’s a semi-circular welcome mat on the floor, made to look like half a pepperoni pizza. On one wall hangs a large mirror, in a bizarre, warped shape, the edges curved as though they’d been drawn by a child. 

There’s a tall cheese plant in one corner, and on a table below the mirror sits a potted scarlet anthurium. It’s a colourful room, and Dan’s very aware that this is only the very entrance of Phil’s house. 

Before Dan can comment on the aesthetics - which he greatly appreciates, having lived in a cheap, falling apart, ‘student house’ for some time now - a small creature tears through the doorway on the left, bounding towards them, barking shrilly. 

Phil crouches down to greet it, gathering the bundle of excitable fur into his arms immediately, laughing. Mouth falling open in an adoring ‘o’, Dan drops to the floor instinctively, an overwhelming urge to pet this animal forcing him to its level. 

“Dan,” Phil chuckles, receiving several licks to his face. “This is Buffy.”

It lets out a ‘ruff!’ upon hearing its name, turning to Dan, tongue hanging out as it surveys him. In a millisecond, the dog is wriggling in Phil’s arms, struggling to be free. It worms its way out of Phil’s grip in a second, leaping across to Dan’s lap, tail wagging excitedly. 

“Oh my God,” Dan says, cuddling the dog close to himself as he strokes and scritches and pets its soft, caramel fur. “This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. What breed is it?” 

“She’s a paperanian,” Phil says, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor. He laughs as Buffy begins frantically licking at Dan’s face, front paws on his chest as she attempts to reach him. “A pomeranian-papillon mix.”

Phil strokes along her back, fondly, his hand occasionally brushing across Dan’s. 

Dan is giggling into the shock of Buffy’s fur, relishing the adorable, happy temperament of this dog. His only family dog had been a springer-spaniel when he was young, and it had died before he’d had a chance to bond with it properly. 

“Unff-” Dan says, voice muffled as Buffy licks eagerly at his chin. “How long’ve you had her?” 

“About a year and a half?” Phil replies, smiling warmly. “I used to volunteer at a shelter when I lived in France. I didn’t mean to get attached, but I couldn’t help it. So I adopted her.” 

“She’s adorable,” Dan says, stroking over her soft, pointed ears as she begins to calm down, happily settled in Dan’s lap. “I think I’m in love.” 

Phil glances up at Dan, eyebrow raised. For some reason, Dan finds himself blushing. “I get it.” Phil replies. “I fell in love on sight.” 

Dan holds Phil’s gaze for a moment, any responses getting caught in his throat. Buffy barks, stealing their attention, and Phil giggles at her. He stands, scooping her up from Dan’s lap and into his arms. 

Dan tries not to pout about this. 

“Come on, then,” Phil says, presumably to the dog, “I’ll let you out for a bit.”

Dan stands too, following Phil through his hallway and into the room on the left. 

Again, he is struck by the amazing decor of the room in which he enters, which seems to be a spacious living area, but he barely has time to appreciate it before Phil is heading into the kitchen at the other end, Buffy still tucked in the crook of his arm. 

At the back of the kitchen there’s a glass sliding door, leading to what appears to be a tiny back garden, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. It’s through here that Phil lets Buffy out, barking happily as she scampers across the wet grass, not bothered by the rain in the slightest. 

Phil slides the door shut after her, turning to Dan with a smile. “I’ll just let her run around for a bit. She’s been cooped up all day.” 

“I guess you have to leave her here while you’re at school?” 

“Yeah,” Phil replies guiltily. “It’s not as bad as some jobs, because I can let her out in the morning, and then I finish quite early in the day, but I still feel bad.”

“I’m sure she’s used to it.” Dan says, trying to make a positive comment. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Phil says. “If I ever have to stay late, I can call my brother to come and check on her. He lives just down the road.” 

“That’s convenient, at least.” 

Phil shrugs, turning to his kitchen counter and retrieving the bright red kettle. 

“It’s not perfect, but it works okay.” Phil says. “Anyway, I’m rarely away from home. It’s not every day I have to rescue damoiseau’s in distress caught in rainstorms because they missed their bus.” Phil winks at him; along with the casual french he dropped into the sentence, it makes Dan feel a little dazed. 

“Do you want a cup of tea while she runs about for a bit?” Phil asks.

Dan feels his heart flutter, and wonders whether any of the other TA’s have ever had the honour of coming here, of meeting Phil’s dog and receiving hot beverages on rainy days. 

“That’d be great, thanks.” Dan answers quietly, still feeling like an inconvenience. 

As Phil fills the kettle and gets the mugs, Dan takes the opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but with a few youthful, quirky touches that indicate Phil’s sillier side. 

The walls are cream, as are the countertops, but there are splashes of colour everywhere. The microwave is bright yellow, and there are a host of tiny herb plants in red, green, blue and orange pots atop the windowsill. 

Phil’s fridge is a light blue, and around his light wooden table, the chairs are varying sizes and colours, mismatched, but in a way that seems put together. 

“It’s so homely in here,” Dan muses, not really meaning to say it aloud. 

Phil turns to him, evidently surprised. “Thanks! Most people say it’s a bit much.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs, chuckling. “My brother said that it’s as if I gathered a random load of furniture and scattered it about without thinking.” 

“Did you?” 

“Kind of, I suppose.” Phil allows, shrugging one shoulder. “I just pick up bits and pieces that I like the look of, and fit them in as best I can.” He laughs, opening his sky-blue fridge to get the milk. “I don’t pretend to be an expert in interior design. I just like things to be...” 

“Pretty?” Dan supplies.

“I was gonna say colourful,” Phil says, smiling at him. “But yeah, I suppose. Thanks.” 

Dan blushes faintly, casting another look around. He notices for the first time that Phil’s fridge door is covered in those alphabet magnets, some of which spell out the phrase ‘normalness leads to sadness’. There’s also a photo pinned there, of Phil and a man Dan vaguely recognises as his brother. He’s holding Buffy in his arms, smiling a very Phil-like smile.

“Milk? Sugar?” Phil asks, tearing Dan’s attention away. 

“Just milk, thanks.” 

Phil pours the milk, humming to himself, and adds two lumps of sugar to his own cup from a gnome-shaped pot nearby. He places the mugs down on the table, and pulls out a chair. 

“You can sit down, you know,” Phil tells Dan amusedly, slipping into one of the seats. 

Dan obeys, sliding into the chair opposite him and retrieving his mug. “Thanks.” 

He sips, even though it’s far too hot, trying to think past his nerves, for something, anything, to say that isn’t ‘wow you’re pretty and your house is pretty and your dog is the cutest thing in the world and I think I’m crushing on you far, far too much to even be here let alone go to Paris with you in two weeks’. He comes up blank. 

Then, quite unexpectedly, Phil reaches across the table, and pushes a strand of his fringe away from his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dan freezes, a deer in headlights, as Phil’s fingertips brush his forehead, acutely aware of how damp he is still. 

“Your hair,” Phil says softly, wonderingly. “It’s curly.” 

Dan blushes furiously at once, ducking away from Phil’s touch, feeling self-conscious. “Shit, yeah. The rain, y’know...”

Phil draws his hand back to his mug, smiling amusedly. “It’s cute.” 

Dan looks at him in surprise. He’s never, in a million years, considered the idea that anybody might find his natural, untameable curls anything other than ridiculous, but all of a sudden he has a powerful urge to never touch a pair of straighteners again. 

Dan lifts his hand to his head, patting the mess of curls that are drying there. 

“I... never really liked them.” He admits, sheepish.

“You should embrace them,” Phil says encouragingly. He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, if you want. I think they suit you. But then, it’s not my hair.” 

All of a sudden, Dan shivers, partly because he’s wet and cold, but mostly because Phil is being so sweet that his body actually seems to be rejecting the sentiment, not sure how else to process it. 

Phil frowns, noticing the tremble. “Hey, take that off.” 

He gestures to Dan’s torso, standing from the chair. Dan just looks, bewildered, at Phil’s outstretched hand. 

“Um...”

“Your jacket, Dan.” Phil says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ll throw it in the dryer.” 

“Oh, no it’s okay-”

“Dan, you’re actually shivering.” Phil interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll just dry off your wet jacket, it’ll take ten minutes.” 

“It’s warm in here, you really don’t have to.” Dan mumbles, but he’s already shaking the damn thing off his shoulders, because Phil is using his teacher-voice, and it’s drilling right into his chilly bones.

Phil just takes the jacket from him, opening a secret cupboard door under the kitchen counter to reveal a washer-dryer. He places Dan’s jacket inside, presses a few buttons, and smiles in satisfaction as the dryer begins its cycle. 

He turns back to Dan, frowning again as he takes in the sight of him. 

“Hey, drink your tea, it’ll warm you up.” Phil instructs, moving across the room, towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan doesn’t get a chance to object; Phil slips out of the room, leaving Dan sat at the table in just his damp, clinging, white shirt, hands clasped around the mug of tea.

Then, in a moment, he’s back again, a bundle of green material in one hand. He hands it to Dan casually, then moves to sit back in his seat.

“Um, what’s this?” Dan asks, confused. He turns the green item over in his hands carefully. 

“A hoodie,” Phil says, like it’s perfectly normal. “You’re cold.”

Dan swallows, squeezing the material in his fist. It feels thick and warm. “Oh, th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil says, beaming. “Put it on, you’re not allowed to be cold in my house.”

“I didn’t realise you had such strict house rules,” Dan replies teasingly, but pulls the hoodie over his head, threading his arms through the sleeves. 

It smells - oh, Lord - it smells just like him. It’s cinnamon sweet, with a fresh, plant-like overtone. A cooling, freshly baked apple pie on a windowsill, the breeze sweeping in its delicious aroma, carrying the notes of the newly cut spring grass. 

Dan has to force himself not to bury his nose in the sleeves that hang down over his hands. 

He tries to distract himself by looking down at the text on the front of it, which reads ‘York University’. “I see I’m repping your college.” 

“Hah, yeah, sorry about that.” Phil says bashfully, sipping more tea. “I guess it’s a bit weird to hang onto that, isn’t it?”

Dan shrugs. “Not if you liked it.” 

Phil smiles at him appreciatively. “I liked the uni, yeah. And I like the hoodie. I like it even better on you.” 

Simply because Dan doesn’t trust himself to speak further about this without melting into a gooey puddle, he decides to change the subject. 

“So, is it Buffy as in... the vampire slayer?” 

He nods towards the screen door, through which Phil’s dog is sprinting happily across the grass, pausing every so often to sniff a patch, tail wagging furiously. 

Phil turns to watch her for a moment, laughing. He nods, turning back to wink at Dan. “I mean, it is the greatest show of all time.” 

Dan considers this, nodding. “It’s definitely up there.”

“You’ve seen it?” Phil asks, sounding surprised. “Not many people have, these days.”

“You spend too much time around teenagers.” Dan says with a wry smile. “The kids in your classes probably weren’t even born when Buffy was cool.” 

Phil sighs, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“Hey, it’s their loss.” Dan says. “They’ll never know the awesomeness that is Buffy Summers kicking kicking the ass of every monster that dares to cross her.”

“Or the incredible hotness of Spike,” Phil adds, somewhat wistfully. 

“Spike over Angel? Interesting.” 

“To be honest, if I were Buffy, I think I’d have a similarly hard time deciding between them.”

“Same,” Dan agrees, staring down into his tea. 

“Hey, I forgot,” Phil announces suddenly, his voice bright and cheerful. “I made cupcakes! Would you like one?”

Dan watches as Phil stands from his chair, heading to a cupboard to pull out a cake tin. 

“Um,” Dan says; his stomach is rumbling at the mere mention of food, let alone cake, but he wants to be careful about how far he should run with Phil’s generosity. In the end however, his tummy, which hasn’t been fed since lunch, makes the decision for him. “Sure. Thanks.”

Phil finds a small plate and presents Dan with one of the most incredible looking cakes he’s ever seen. Putting bakeries to shame, Phil has piped rainbow frosting atop a small, palm sized cake. He’s also sliced off the top of the cake, cut it in half, and pushed the pieces into the icing in a traditional ‘butterfly cake’ style. 

The whole thing is covered in some kind of edible glitter too, making it sparkle under Phil’s soft, overhead lamps. 

“Christ, you made this?” Dan asks, staring down at it in amazement. “I feel like I shouldn’t eat something this pretty.”

Phil chuckles. “It’s either going to you or Buffy, so eat up.”

Phil takes his seat again, and Dan diligently begins peeling the glittery pink case from the sides of the cupcake. He glances up at Phil, watching him, and pauses.

“You’re not having one?” 

Phil shakes his head. “Trust me, I’ve had about sixty already since I made them. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m cupcake’d out.”

Dan’s eyes fall to the cake in his hand, feeling awkward about eating it now. 

Phil laughs at him, and Dan looks up. “What?” 

“Afraid I’m trying to poison you?” 

Dan splutters, having not even thought of that. Realistically though, he perhaps should be a bit more concerned. He doesn’t know Phil that well, after all.  

Playing along, Dan eyes the cake suspiciously, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Well, it is awfully convenient that you just had to let Buffy out whilst you already had me in your car...”

Phil rolls his eyes, smirking. Without a word, he leans forwards, plucks the cupcake from Dan’s hand, and brings it to his lips. He takes a small bite, frosting and all, licking glitter and crumbs from his lips as he holds Dan’s gaze. 

He hands the cupcake back over, looking triumphant. “There. If it’s poisoned, then we’ll both die.”

“Finally,” Dan jokes, taking a bite out of the cupcake, heart palpitating over what just happened. 

The cupcake is glorious. Dan shuts his eyes, moaning a little in appreciation. It tastes like strawberry laces, and vanilla ice cream, and pure, unfiltered joy. It tastes like how he imagine Phil himself would taste, were he smothered in frosting and had a surprise, raspberry jam centre. 

“Fucking hell,” Dan says eloquently, diving straight back in for another bite. “Phil Lester, you’re a genius.” 

In three bites, Dan has devoured the entire thing, and he licks the remnants off each of his fingers, wishing he could go back in time and experience that slice of heaven all over again. 

When he eventually meets Phil’s gaze, he’s looking a little dazed. There’s a pink tint to his pale skin, resting just above his sharp cheekbones. Seeming to gather himself, Phil clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses, smiling. 

“Glad you liked it,” Phil mumbles, busying himself by taking Dan’s plate to the sink. 

“You should apply for Bake Off,” Dan says sincerely.

Phil laughs, rinsing the plate under the tap, faced away from him. 

“Actually don’t,” Dan says, changing his mind. “Just bake for me, instead.” 

Phil stacks the plate on a drying rack, turning back to him. He doesn’t sit back at the table, though. He just leans against the counter, watching Dan from afar. 

“And what do I get out of that deal, Mr Howell?” Phil asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Literally whatever you want.” Dan replies, meaning every word. 

“Careful,” Phil says, typically flirtatious, making Dan’s stomach flip. “Some people might take advantage of a promise like that.” 

Dan just laughs, staying quiet. In his mind however, he silently comes to the realisation that he can’t think of a single thing that Phil could ask for, that he would refuse to do. 

Oh, dear.

*

By the time they leave Phil’s house, the rain has eased to more of a drizzle, but it pours continuously nonetheless. Dan says goodbye to Buffy about five times, softened by her sad little whimpers and puppy eyes each time he turns to go. 

He doesn’t mind that her fur is soaked and a little muddy, he just cuddles her close, no doubt ruining Phil’s hoodie, though Phil doesn’t object. He doesn’t even tell her off as she tracks damp pawprints through the kitchen, he just uses a spare towel to dry her off, giggling as she wriggles about beneath it. 

“Aw, he’ll be back another time, Buffy,” Phil assures his whining dog, and secretly Dan bursts with happiness. 

They get out of the door eventually, and into Phil’s car. Phil sticks the heating on straight away, blasting them both as they rub their hands together. Dan wishes it would be socially acceptable to lean across and nestle into Phil’s shoulder, but alas, he settles for simply wrapping the hoodie more tightly around himself, pretending it’s Phil’s arms. 

“She loves you,” Phil says, laughing. “She’s not going to let me forget that, either.”

“What a shame,” Dan says, faking a dismayed sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to come and play with her all the time.”

Phil grins at him. “You should. Buffy would really like that.”

“Buffy would?” Dan asks, feeling just brave enough to attempt a flirtation, fuelled by the adrenaline his own body has been pumping through his veins for the past hour or so. 

Phil just smiles at him, eyes holding Dan’s for a moment, seeming to forget about starting the car. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “She really would.”

*

It’s quite painful to watch Phil driving away. 

It’s only been a couple of hours, but in the short time he and Phil spent together this afternoon, Dan had grown rather attached to his presence. 

This whole crush-thing would be so much easier if Phil was a difficult person to hang out with. But it’s so easy. They fall into banter as quickly as breathing, their conversations lasting indefinitely, because they could spring off each other’s witticisms for hours on end. 

Phil is so funny, and so effortlessly charming. He’s intelligent and sharp, which is attractive on its own, but he has such a flirtatious streak, and it only makes things worse. 

The more time Dan spends around him, in fact, the more he feels himself falling into a deep cavern of yearning. 

When Phil pulled up to Dan’s house, right before Dan got out, he handed Dan another one of his cupcakes, which he’d hidden in a little Tupperware box in the glove compartment, unbeknownst to Dan. 

Dan had protested at first, saying he couldn’t possibly steal another of his incredible creations, but Phil insisted on him having it. Eventually, Dan managed to create a condition - that he owed Phil a favour, not only for the cupcake (and the other cupcake) but for the cup of tea, and introducing him to Buffy, and the kindness, and for literally rescuing him in his hour of need and driving him forty minutes across town to his house. 

Phil laughed, but agreed to these terms. Dan had gone to leave his car then, cupcake in hand, but Phil had stopped him, saying he had an idea for how Dan could repay him. 

Of course, he had to say Paris. 

So, because he’s helpless to refuse Phil anyway, and because he owes Phil a lot, Dan agreed. So, in two weeks, he’s off to Paris, to spend an entire weekend with Phil, in the most romantic city in the world. 

Yes, there will be twenty or more teenagers along for the ride, but Dan finds it difficult enough to keep it together in Phil’s presence as it is, even during class. 

Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time in close proximity to this man is going to render him as useless as a smitten nerd-girl in any teenage rom-com that’s existed since the beginning of time. 

He sighs, watching from his doorway as Phil’s car rounds the corner, out of sight. He opens the Tupperware, and takes a bite of the delicious cake, sighing in defeat.

“Okay, who was that?” Tyler’s voice says from right by his shoulder, making Dan jump. 

“Is that hot, French, teacher-guy?” Teddy interjects from further inside. 

Dan rolls his eyes, turning to push past both of them as he stalks into the house. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than spy on me?”

“Aw, Dan we just want to see you happy!” Tyler exclaims, following Dan into the kitchen. 

He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, walking behind him like a drunk mum too into the conga line, until they reach the counter. 

Dan puts his half eaten cupcake back in its box, placing it on the counter. 

“How do you know I’m not?” Dan asks crossly. 

“I mean, you’re fine.” Teddy says, strolling into the kitchen to rest his arm on Dan’s shoulder. “But fine isn’t good enough for our lovely Daniel. We want to see you being adored!”

Teddy pinches Dan’s cheek, smiling at him. Tyler kisses him on the temple, ruffling his hair. 

Dan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little under the affection. “Thanks, but I’m good.” 

He struggles free of them, intending to take an immediate shower in order to wash the rainwater off himself. He heads for the door of the kitchen, mind already on other things. 

Phil things. 

Paris things. 

“Hey, Dan?” Tyler calls out, sounding confused. Dan turns on the spot, somewhat reluctantly. “I thought you went to the University of Manchester?” 

Dan frowns in confusion. “Ty, we all went to the same uni. We literally met at uni.”

Teddy hides a smirk in Tyler’s shoulder. “Right, right.” Tyler says. “So whose hoodie is that?” 

Having completely forgotten he was even wearing the thing, Dan flushes bright red, stammering in place of a response. It’s an absurd reaction, obviously, but it sends the others into fits of laughter, and Dan instinctively knows they won’t let this go for weeks, no matter how much he tries to insist it was a purely platonic gesture on Phil’s part. 

“I hate you both,” Dan groans, practically running out of the room. 

He slams the door of the bathroom, switching on the shower, cheeks still flame-red in the mirror. He pauses, caught by the sight of his reflection, swathed in the emerald green of Phil’s hoodie. 

He strokes the words on the front, feeling how they’re beginning to flake from multiple washes, and from the creases Phil has made as he moves around in this same garment, when it’s wrapped around him instead. 

Dan lifts the sleeve to his nose, breathing in that delicious scent. The vanilla-strawberry cupcake still lingers on his tongue, making it that little bit sweeter. 

He’ll return this hoodie, he tells himself, saving it until last as he strips off for the shower. But maybe he could forget for a few days. Or maybe he could say that he wanted to wait until the next time he’s in class with Phil, which isn’t until Monday now. 

He places the hoodie carefully to one side, not wanting it to get wet, and hops in the shower. He lets his mind drift, skimming across memories of Phil’s touch against his forehead, the sound of the rain pattering against his screen door as the dog played outside, the low, fond tone of Phil’s voice from across the table, the flame of something vivacious dancing in his glacial eyes. 

Paris, he decides, as the light trickles of warm water travel over his body, might not be so bad. 

(Part 5!)

[elleberquist6]

Believe in Me - chapter eleven

Summary: Dan Howell is living at home while he’s saving money for college, which isn’t easy since his parents don’t understand him. Unlike them, he loves dogs, is a vegetarian, has no interest in the family business, and he despises the supernatural. He struggles to accept things that are illogical, even though he is a kitsune. Kitsune are foxes whose powers involve the ability to cast illusions, but Dan just wants to be normal. Phil Lester has just moved to London, where he works as a dog walker. When his path crosses with Dan, Phil is eager to get to know him. Unfortunately, Phil soon finds that being friends with Dan is far more complicated than he could have imagined.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2131 Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

—

Kitsune fact: In the Nanbu Region, Aomori Prefecture, it is called "kitsune no yometori"… For sunshowers to be called this, there are various explanations, such as the explanation that for rain to fall even when the sky is clear gives the feeling like an impossible situation, one would feel like one is being tricked by something. There is also the explanation that people believed that a fox's wedding would take place during a sunshower… people thought that foxes made rain fall in order to prevent people from going up the mountain and seeing the fox's wedding [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune_no_yomeiri]

 In the morning, Dan knocked on the door of Phil’s apartment, thinking as soon as he did so that he should have called first, but it was too late. Phil was opening the door before Dan had even lowered his hand from knocking. Phil looked him over, and Dan realized that he must look like a drowned rat – he could feel the rain in his hair and he knew the effect it must be having. Phil meanwhile looked flawless in a red and black checkered shirt with his hair pushed slightly back from his forehead.

“Would you like a towel?” Phil asked, now looking at the rainwater dripping from the hem of Dan’s black jacket to the carpet in the hall.

“No, we don’t have much time,” Dan said, now looking down the hallway to the stairs. He wanted to grab Phil’s hand and drag him with him.

“That’s a rather dramatic statement,” Phil commented, leaning on his doorway to show his unwillingness to move. “I sound like I’m about to follow you into an action movie and that there will be car chases, explosions, and Russian spies. Could you explain?”

“Sure, sorry.” Dan sighed, trying to think of where to begin. “I know you haven’t forgiven me yet and I haven’t given you much time to think, but I’d like to do something. I want to make a gesture to show you that I’m willing to open up, but this thing has a time limit on it. We’re going to miss it if we don’t leave now.”

“Now? It’s raining.”

Dan started shifting in place in his urgency to leave. “That’s the whole point! We have to go while it’s raining. It’s… it’s a fox thing. Listen, I’m late for a wedding and I’d like you to be my ‘plus one’. If you want to go, we have to leave now. Could you please just get an umbrella?”

Phil nodded, returned with an umbrella patterned with dogs, and locked his apartment. As they were walking down the hall, he stopped and looked down at himself. “I’m not dressed to attend a wedding. I should go back and change.”

“It’s casual dress. This is an impromptu wedding.” He touched Phil’s elbow to get him moving again, but they both stiffened at the contact, so he let go.

As they started down the stairs to the lobby of the apartment building, Phil asked, “Who is getting married?”

Dan shrugged. “Some kitsune my parents know. I’ve never met them. The only people there who I’ll know are my parents, my grandma, and my brother.” Dan bit his bottom lip for a moment, and then he said, “Phil, I appreciate that this is weird. You’re going to be meeting my family before we’ve even talked to decide if we’re still together, but if you’re okay with it then I want to show you this part of my life.”

Phil nodded. “I’m okay with it. Dan, I appreciate that you’re trying. Really, I do. I like gestures a lot more than I do words and promises. We’ll talk after today, okay?”

"That sounds good. Thank you." Dan smiled as he stepped out into the rain, looking up at the sun that was shining through the clouds.

Dan led Phil to Regent’s Park. They stepped off the path and stopped at the edge of a clearing. Phil peered through the trees from under his umbrella at the empty space there. He asked, “Are we in the right place?”

Dan felt stupid saying it, but he explained, “They’re there, but the wedding party is hidden behind an illusion.”

He expected Phil to laugh at the absurdity of it, but Phil’s eyes just widened and he stared harder at the clearing. “So, how do we get past the illusion?”

“I can get us through. I think.” At Phil’s look, he explained sheepishly. “I’m not very good at this stuff, but I’m going to try. Oh, and before I forget…” He pulled two white plastic masks out of the deep pockets of his coat. The masks were decorated simply with a dot for the nose, whiskers on the cheeks, and holes for the eyes – there was no space for the mouth. “We’re supposed to wear these. It’s traditional.”

Phil nodded and put on his mask. Dan did the same. Then he extended a hand palm-up to Phil, and Phil didn’t hesitate to take it. Then Dan closed his eyes and focused on what he needed to do. He knew that his tail was visible now, and he heard Phil gasp in surprise. With his eyes still closed, he took a step to the side, dragging Phil with him. Hoping that he had done it correctly, he opened his eyes and looked around. They had been standing in a sunshower the moment before, but now they were standing at the edge of a sunny clearing and there wasn’t a cloud above in the blue sky.

Phil’s eyes were darting around wildly, noting the white archway that hadn’t been there a moment before, the 9 people standing by it at the other end of the clearing who hadn’t seemed to notice their entrance, and the glowing balls of foxfire bobbing in the air around them. Also, Phil was the only person in the clearing who didn’t have a fox’s tail prominently on display.

Dan was still holding his hand and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you okay? I know this is a lot to take in.”

Phil started to nod, but then he glanced to the other people and he whispered, “Are they going to be annoyed that you brought me?”

Dan shook his head. “No, it’ll be fine.” He started pointing to the people as inconspicuously as possible. “That’s the couple. Those must be their parents. My mum is standing next to the bride,” he said, pointing to a pair of women. The bride was wearing a white kimono and her sleek black hair was draped across her shoulders. She had a black tail. His mum was a small woman, she wore her brown hair in a braid, and her tail was white. Phil wouldn’t be able to tell at the moment since Mum’s face was covered by a mask, but she looked like she was in her 30s, much too young to have a son Dan’s age – he would have to explain that to Phil eventually. Dan pointed to his dad next, a man with brown hair that was going silver at the temples and a black tail. “That’s my dad. And standing next to him is my grandma.”

His grandma saw him point her out. She had steel-gray hair and her shoulders were stooped slightly. Unlike everyone else in the clearing, she had two black tails. She gave them a wave, and Dan smiled though she wouldn’t be able to see it under the mask. He and Phil waved back. Phil looked around, as if expecting to see someone else. “Did you say Adam would be here?”

Dan nodded, and he looked but there was no one else in the clearing. “He’s supposed to be here. He might have decided to skip it, or he might just be hiding. Are you ready to go over and join the rest?”

Phil cast one last glance around the clearing. “How… is this all possible? You called it an illusion?”

“It’s complicated. I think Grandma said she made a pocket dimension. Just a small temporary one that we could step into so that the wedding would be private. I wish I could explain all this better, but I really hate magic.” He felt the word twist his mouth, like he had just tasted something bad. “I don’t have any better explanation for you because I barely understand any of this.”

Phil nodded as he closed his umbrella and left it leaning against a tree. “Okay, that’s fine. I think this is all amazing, so I’ll just enjoy it and stop trying to understand it. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

It seemed like the wedding party had been waiting for them to walk over because as soon as they did the people in the clearing started shuffling into place. His grandmother stood at the center of the arch, looking imperial with her tails held high, one behind each of her shoulders. The bride and groom – who was also wearing a kimono – stood on either side of her. Dan’s father stood beside the groom as best man, and his mother was the matron of honor. Dan and Phil stood awkwardly in the back, trying to look inconspicuous behind the parents of the bride and groom.

The ceremony started, and Dan’s grandmother conducted it in Japanese, which he didn’t speak, but he appreciated the beauty of the language and the reactions it evoked from the couple. The groom was giggling and couldn’t stop touching the bride – he was rubbing her hands, stroking her hair, and he looked absolutely besotted. The bride was crying and kept trying to dry her cheeks, but she forgot she was wearing a mask and every time her hand connected with it she laughed at herself.

Finally, the ceremony reached a significant point, and the couple linked their black tails. His grandma waved her hand and the balls of foxfire floating in the air drifted closer and started spinning above the couple’s heads as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. Everyone in the clearing clapped, and the couple’s parents walked forward to hug the bride and shake the groom’s hand.

Dan hadn’t noticed his parents coming closer until they were standing at his side. His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming, son.”

His mother nodded. She was staring at Phil, but it seemed odd to him to make introductions to people who were wearing masks, so he didn’t bother. Mum said, “We’re going back to the house for the reception. Will you be coming?”

He glanced at Phil. He wasn’t sure if this was too much for him, but Phil’s shoulders were relaxed, and his blue-green eyes were wide with wonder as he stared at the orbs of foxfire that were still bobbing in the air above the couple. Dan looked back to his mum. “Sure, we might drop in. I don’t want to impose on the couple too much since I don’t know them…”

Dad shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, they’ll love to have you. We have so much food prepared for lunch that it would be a shame for it to go to waste.” He glanced at Phil as he said, “I hope that both of you will come.”

Phil nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Dan’s parents headed for the edge of the trees and disappeared from sight. The couple and their parents headed in the same direction. Dan walked over to his grandmother, who was waving her hands in the air, and as she did so the foxfire started vanishing, popping out of existence. She turned her attention to the arch as Dan reached her side with Phil a pace behind him. He asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “Thank you, sweetie. I’m closing this dimension, and I need everyone to be on the outside when I do it. There is something you can do: I think I saw your brother near the tree where your companion left his umbrella. Could you let him know and step outside together?”

“Sure, Grandma.” They started heading back to the tree, and they took off their masks as they did so. Dan tucked them into his pockets and Phil picked up his umbrella. Adam was leaning against the tree with his foot propped up, and he took a long drag on a cigarette. Dan wrinkled his nose at the smell, but he said, “Grandma wants us to get out.”

Adam snorted and glanced at Phil. “Everyone has been telling me to get out lately.”

Phil winced. “Sorry.”

Adam shook his head and laughed. “Just messing with you.”

They stepped through the illusion and back to reality where the sunshower continued.

[jestbee]

June 22: Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Two)