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bookcrook · 5 years

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Absolutely Smitten

Dang. I really suck at keeping my word, don’t I? Whelp, for those who care, it’s here now! This is the first of I don’t know how many parts of “Six Foot Seven”, a new series/book thing I’ve been working on lately, requested by @i-cant-reach-im-too-short! The entirety of the series will be based on her real-life love story, as well as a playlist she gave me. First song was Absolutely Smitten by Dodie Clark. Hope you all enjoy! :)

“Teddy, come eat!” I call out from the kitchen, rattling his food around the large metal bowl. I wait a few minutes before yelling out his name again. “Teddy! Teddy Bear! C’mon! I have to leave soon and you need to eat.” Still no response.

And so begins my daily game of “Find the Giant Dog Hiding in my Tiny Apartment and Hope He Didn’t Run Off and Start the Zombie Apocalypse Without Me”. Such a great way to start my day…

I search behind couches and loveseats, inside closets and my bathroom only to find absolutely nothing. “Where, oh where has my Teddy gone, oh where, oh where could he be,” I sing softly under my breath, “In the closet he’s not, with me he’s… Also not, oh where, oh where could he be.” I continue with my non-rhyming song, raising my volume a little as I get closer and closer to my bedroom, the only other place he could be hiding.

When I finally reach the doorway, I hear a playful bark come out from beneath my bed. I lower myself down to my knees, pull up the flashlight on my phone, and put my right cheek against the carpet. And, sure enough, I’m staring into the eyes of my slightly-obnoxious-but-still-very-lovable German Shepard. Who also just so happens to be stuck underneath the bed I just got.

How he got there is beyond me and getting him out is going to be a serious victory on my end. As in, the kind of victory that deserves a pint and a half of double chocolate chip ice cream and a box of Cheez-Its after work. I try coaxing him out, seeing if he can squeeze himself just enough to remove himself from the tight spot. I bribe him with treats and squeaky toys, but he doesn’t move a muscle. So, I move on to what I knew was, ultimately, inevitable and would no doubt break all of my limbs off of my body.

Have you ever seen a 5’2 Asian girl trying to lift up a Queen size metal bed frame (with the mattress on top of it because she had just woken up half an hour ago and was still extremely tired, so she wasn’t smart enough to take it off) at least a foot off the ground completely and utterly by herself? I haven’t, but God damn it must be hilarious to look at. Actually doing it, though? Terrible. Absolutely horrid. The worst thing I’ve ever done in my 22 years of living. I mean, seriously. What is this thing made out of? Steel with a brick-filled mattress? Ridiculousness, I tell you!

Twenty minutes later, Teddy is roaming free around our brand new home while I’m lying on my bedroom floor exhausted and trying to find a will to live, which immediately comes with an alarm going off on my phone. Who would’ve thought I’d be so ecstatic to leave the comfort of my apartment for an entire day of work behind a desk only running on four hours of sleep. I force myself up and attempt to wipe as much dog hair off of my once clean clothes, abandoning hope soon after---there’s just no escaping it.

Collecting my things, I make my way toward the door, glancing quickly at the clock on my stove. Right on time, I think to myself. Waiting for the elevator was maddening. Come on...

I mash the button impatiently, muttering curse words under my breath in frustration. I do the same when the doors finally slide open, revealing a small family of three with a tiny puppy on a leash. The slow background music only fueled my anxiety.

Before the doors are even wide enough to accommodate an entire person, I slip through the tiny gap and race outside. I flatten my hair and my eyes immediately dart to the left, finding exactly what---or, more specifically, who---I was looking for walking toward me.

“Holy shit,” I murmur softly. How is it possible for one person to look so amazing just walking down the street? I soon realize I’m staring like a literal stalker, so before I’m caught, I turn and start walking swiftly in the same direction he’s going.

“Megan!” I hear a familiar, deep voice call from behind me, “Wait up!”

“Not a chance! I’d say you’ve got long enough legs to catch up to me,” I respond, an air of fake confidence in my voice. I slow down only slightly, despite my original statement, and, sure enough, Owen manages to reach me in a few long strides.

“You’re difficult, you know that?” he laughs softly. I pray that no one saw my insides turn into literal jelly. What am I even supposed to do? My legs keep moving, but my mind is such a jumbled mush that it can’t comprehend anything around me. Which shouldn’t be happening. I’m a strong, independent woman---I don’t need him telling me if I’m pretty or not. I don’t.

So, as we walk, I begin concentrating on not concentrating on him. I quickly find that doing so is no use to me and caused me to not hear a single word Owen just spoke.

“You still there, shorty?” he teases, poking the top of my head.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! Sorry. Just a little out of it, I guess.” Which was true, to be fair---I just decided it would be better to give him only half of the truth, for my heart’s sake. “What’d you say?”

Owen’s shoulder bumps into mine slightly, “I asked if you were eating in the office today. Thought I’d join you, but it looks as though you’re empty-handed.”

I stop in my tracks as he finishes speaking. “Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot,” I whisper to myself, hoping he doesn’t hear me. Because my luck is shit today, he does, and he seems to believe I was talking to him.

“Excuse me?” Owen laughs nervously, surprised by my comment.

“No!” I exclaim a little too loudly, “Not you! I was talking to myself. Didn’t realize it until you mentioned it, but I forgot my food at home; it’s been a crazy morning, so I didn’t really think about grabbing to before I left.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, nothing important, really. Just stuff with my dog…” I wanted to add ‘and you’, but it seems a bit… Forward. Creepy. Stalker-ish. Take your pick. “Made some grilled chicken, noodles, and asparagus last night, too. Looks like it’s the vending machine for me today! Yay.”

“I mean, you don’t have to…” Owen looks away slightly as his sentence trails off.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Unless you’re suggesting that I turn back and risk being late just for a bag of mediocre food, I’m afraid I do.”

“Fair point, but no. ‘Tis not what I mean by that, miss,” he taunts, putting on one of the worst fake British accents I’ve ever heard. It’s something he does often. Why? No clue---not even an inkling of an idea, but it makes my heart melt every time.

“Then what do you have in mind?”

“We could always go out to lunch. There’s this cafe-diner-thing a block or two down from the office that serve the best grilled cheese known to man. If you haven’t tried don’t think I won’t drag you there myself,” Owen laughs. I can feel my eyes light up at the prospect of that. “It can be a group thing or something.”

My shoulders deflate just a tiny bit. I knew it wasn’t going to be a date---I’m not that stupid, but I hoped it could at least be just the two of us. It’s okay, I think to myself, taking in a deep breath, It doesn’t matter. We’re just friends. I force a smile before agreeing. “Oh, yeah. Totally! Sounds great. I can see if Laura and Chelsea want to come.”

We’d finally reached our destination when the conversation began and are now parting ways as it ends. “Awesome! See you then?”

“Definitely,” I say softly. Despite my disappointment, I’m able to produce a small---but very genuine---smile.

I’m practically floating as I make my way to my tiny desk and collapse onto my rolling chair. Slumped completely down (in a way that is terrible for my back), I let out a startled screech as a voice, seemingly coming from nowhere, scares me senseless.

“You’re late,” Chelsea teases in a sing-song tone from above me.

“...No I’m not.” I point at the large clock across the room.

“How…” she stumbles over words, “How do you know I didn’t come in early and change the time on all of the clocks because... Pranks?”

“Chels, you’re still wearing your coat.”

“It’s cold.”

“How about the fact that, one, your coffee is still steaming and you refuse to drink the tar that they have here. Two, you don’t wake up any earlier than you absolutely have to because you’re the definition of a night owl. Or, and I’d say this is my most convincing argument, three, you just don’t care enough to do that.” I sit up as I rest my case and begin pulling out my things for the day.

“You’re no fun,” Chelsea pouts, lowering herself behind the cork board wall that separates us.

Ignoring her very hurtful words, I continue the conversation as though nothing happened, “Has Laura come in yet?”

She scoots her chair over to your side as she answers, “I don’t think so. Or if she has I haven’t seen her. Why?”

I let out a groan and drop my head onto my desk, smashing the keys on my laptop. “Great. I needed her to help me make some copies because I have to meet with some clients later today and I have no clue how to work that… Thing.”

Chelsea opens her mouth, prepared to offer help, but I cut her off before she can, “Don’t. I love you, but she’s the only one who can tame the beast. I swear that if anyone looked at it the wrong way it would set the entire building on fire. Especially if it were either of us.”

“That’s fair,” she relinquishes. Suddenly, a tornado in human form tears through the office dropping a pile of things on Laura’s desk and races into a conference room, all in a matter of .04357 milliseconds.

“She’s here,” I chuckle slightly.

Twenty minutes later, Laura races back into the room and all but sprints to her desk. Thinking she might actually be done in there, I try to ask for her help. And, before I’m ever able to finish saying her name, she explains, “Can’t talk right now. Still doing the presentation; just forget some papers.”

Not long after that, Laura is finally free and snatches my papers from my desk, taking them to that dreaded machine and returning with 15 more than I need.

“Sorry about the extras,” she sighs as she drops them in my lap, “There was an error with the copier, but at least you have those if you need them.”

“Thank you!” I exclaim in a hushed voice, “You are a life saver, I swear!”

“Are you just now figuring that out?” Laura laughs.

I stick my tongue out at her before continuing my work.

I later feel a light tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I find Owen standing there, a large stack of papers in his hand. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I was just on my way to steal Anthony’s copier, but I thought I’d let you know that James, Benny, and the others can’t make it to lunch. Any luck with you?”

Before I can even consider speaking, Laura immediately turned the focus of the conversation to Anthony. “Wait. Wait just a second. Anthony’s been hiding a perfectly working copier from us?!”

“Guess so.” Owen gives a small shrug.

“What the hell!” she exclaims angrily.

To avoid the situation from escalating, I direct us back to our original topic. “I completely forgot to ask about lunch. Umm… Chels, Laura, either of you doing anything for lunch? I forgot my food this morning, so we thought it’d be a fun idea to get a little group together to go out.” My friends share a conspiratorial look when I’m finished.

Chelsea’s the first to respond. “I really wish I could, but,” she pauses, “I have to run home and feed Pepper. Planned on just stopping by McDonald’s or something on my way back.”

“Neither can I,” Laura sighs with an ingenuine sadness in her voice, “Thomas wanted to take me out at that new sushi place across town. Sorry. Hope you guys have fun.”

A smile twitching on his lips, Owen turns back to me. “Just the two of us, then.”

“Yep,” I mumble quietly, my face growing warmer by the second.

“See you in a bit?”

“Yep,” I repeat myself. His smile was now a grin as he left. Once he’s gone, I snap my eyes back to the two girls, glaring.

“What the fuck was that about?! First of all, you,” I point at Chelsea’s floating head, “Don’t a cat. Or a dog. Or any kind of pet! As for you, Laura. Don’t think I don’t know that Thomas won’t be home for another week. That’s all you’ve been talking about since he left!”

“It’s a week and three days,” she corrects me.

“Exactly my point!”

“Sorry, but we had to!” Chelsea cuts in, “You’ve had one of Cupid’s little arrows stuck in your ass since you started working here two years ago!”

“Not to mention the fact that this is probably the happiest we’ve seen you since your sister made you move out all because what’s-his-name told her to,” Laura adds.

I sigh, sinking into my chair for the second time today. “I know you guys are just trying to be nice. And, you’re right; I have been. He just makes me feel all kinds of weird inside. It’s like I can’t control anything when I’m around him, but that doesn’t mean I need your help with him.”

Laura scoffs and Chelsea rolls her eyes at my obvious lie. “Okay. Fine, I do. But don’t do it so obviously next time!”

My personal matchmakers lower themselves back down and I spin back to my computer. Just another hour to go…

🔹🔹🔹🔹

Lunch seemed to fly by quickly. As we waited on our food, conversations were had about simple, silly things like our favorite color, or how we drink our coffee. Others were about how work had been going and what movies we’d watched recently.

“Okay...” he pondered as he took a sip of his sweet tea, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” Shocked by the question, I couldn’t come up with an answer, so I gave him the most definite one that I could. Kind of.

“Probably anything but the Chuckie movies,” I laughed.

The moment that sentence left my mouth, he immediately corrected me. “It’s Child’s Play, you know?”

“What?”

“The movies.”

“Whatever it’s called, it scarred me for life, and I want absolutely nothing to do with it.” I crossed my arms and shuddered at the thought of even possibly watching it again. I knew it was a terrible movie, but that didn’t change anything.

The stroll back was uneventful, but peaceful. And, now, as we wait out the last couple minutes before we had to return to our respective desks, Owen and I have found ourselves walking slowly back to mine, trying to make our time together stretch as long as possible.

Suddenly, Owen grabs my arm gently, pulling me to a stop just a few feet short of my destination, and leans in. My breaths shorten and my body goes frigid as he does so.

His lips brush against my ear as he says softly, “Please don’t think I’m weird for doing this, but Laura and Chelsea have been eavesdropping since we were within listening distance. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out to dinner tonight? Or this weekend? Or just, at any point in time that would conveniently work for you?”

I let out a chuckle---no, a giggle---at his awkwardness, but then I’m immediately hit by butterflies flooding my stomach as I take in his words. Once I finally come to my senses, my head is frantically bobbing up in down in complete and utter agreement.

After we shared out little… Moment, I make my way to my desk. At this point, I’m not even trying to hide the giant grin on my face. Or my blushing cheeks. Or the fact that my heart is thudding in my chest with pure excitement and joy.

Chelsea and Laura don’t bother pretending that they didn’t see what just happened, and they were sure to let me know about that.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you?” Laura gushes, “And that smile?! What’d he say?”

“What are you even talking about? It was nothing,” I roll my eyes at the rambunctious, gossip-hungry pair, but tell them anyway. “He just asked if I wanted to go out for dinner sometime.”

“Nothing?” Chelsea practically yells, “Are you kidding? There’s no way he doesn’t like you!”

I roll my eyes yet again, knowing not to get my hopes up, but I can’t help but wonder. I’d like to believe I’m not completely clueless; it’s obvious he just asked me on a date, but will it actually go anywhere?

The days that followed were spent trying to coordinate Owen and I’s schedules on the way to work, and deciding where we could go. We also found ourselves around each other outside of work more than usual as we waited for the day to come.

One more week… That’s all I’ve gotta do; make it one more week and I’ll know for sure if this will work out.

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faunusrights · 6 years

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OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTERS 10 + 11

we had a week of peace and now we’re gonna get annihilated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have no clue how long this liveblog may end up but hell and high water i’m combining them both

she tore the jade pendant from her neck and flung it into the darkness.

let’s give a warm welcome, to sadness,

i’m very excited for all-new cinder content hhhhhhh if u havent gathered by now I Love This Bitch and I Love Her Many Problems so im thankful for this gift 😞

Cinder was a ruin, her pride carved and served like slabs of meat.

i can FEEL diesel n kc rly patting themselves on the back for every bit of wet meat they can toss at me!!!!!!!!!! U HEAR THAT I CAN FEEL U!!!!!!!!!!! but also i still love this shit w/ all my heart!!!!!!!!!! IM NEVER GONNA STOP SAYIN IT

She had never looked at Glynda’s files.

im so sorry cinder baby but that whole thing? is still HILARIOUS oh my GOD i cannot believe you fucked up that badly. u shoved yr entire head into a beartrap. u absolutely crapped yr pants on that one. yr gonna be thinking abt that on yr deathbed,

/looks at the chapter title again

hhhhhhhh im. so pumped. its gonna be hard to talk abt most of this w/o doing a million fingerguns a minute but i’m gonna try my best

Cinder approached the mirror and touched its silvered face with black-tipped claws,

I SAID IM GONNA TRY MY BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was iron barbs beneath the nail bed, glowing coals underfoot, the singular capacity to do harm. She was a beast, armed with fang and claw and a deep, dark void where her compassion should have laid, and she was dressed for dinner.

HHHHHH god YES THIS IS THE CINDER IM THIRSTY FOR............ i literally cannot say anything that isnt a massive 👈😎👈 but AAAAAAA

like im reading thru this and i cant cherry-pick lines this whole bit? is SO GOOD... kc n diesel are Yet Again obliterating me w/ their mastery of the narrative style of offal hunt and i just love all of this i rly wish i could explain how offal hunt is EXACTLY MY BRAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F U C K

The final touch on her mastercraft disaster: the four sawed-off horn stumps which grew among her silver-streaked hair.

HOOOO B O I i am. Losin it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER HORNS.......... CINDR...............

Wretchedly, she wondered: did Glynda even respect her now?

any other villain: my plan didnt work and im mad >:( cinder fall: my plan didnt work and now im mad but also mostly sad :(

CINDER’S TRYING HER BEST GOD.......... i literally hate how the remaster has made her So Soft, Actually... I BELIEVE IN U CINDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YR BEST

Every part of her was hot and hollow. She was sick with loathing.

i LOVE HER.... CINDER I HOPE U KNO THAT YR LOVED... god tho i dont like how SAD I AM RN... cinder’s so small and the world is so big and wants 2 Shit On Her blease

honestly like. im rly- LOOK I SAID THIS BEFORE BUT. this is why im rly lovin the new cinder content because in the first version we only got glimpses of her internal machinations and now we’re in full-blown Always Sad territory and everything is suffering :)

She blinked. Her double did not.

‘well’, thought murphy. ‘that’s terrifying.’

she’d only survived thanks to a keen instinct for danger, cultivated during her tenuous teenage years.

i NEED. I NEED. CINDER BACKSTORY. all these lil nuggets dont constitute a meal! I WANT A BIG MAC AND FRIES. WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS BABY DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also again. the body horror of offal hunt? peak content. Im Lovin It

its getting harder to divine what is and what is not a 👈😎👈 because we got bits sprinkled around and theres only rly a spoiler potential if u glue em all together so im still being extra careful and the answer is blared in everyones faces so this whole kondor scene will go uncommented unless some Bullshit Happens which it will, so,

When she had become so invested in Glynda’s approval? When had a desire to be recognized as something inhuman, something ferocious, something black and terrible and capable of keeping up with Glynda Fucking Goodwitch turned into this?

oh! oh! i have the answer! i do! i know the answer! it’s you a lesbian,

The spectres of her youth haunted this city, owl-eyed children and fox-eared teens. They’d been a second sort of family, the only kind she’d had within these walls, and she’d wondered what had become of them in the past decades, but…

It was too sentimental, and she wasn’t meant to be a creature of sentiment.

oh boy okay wow

okay so actually this bit made me cry??? fuck OFF im losing it!!!!!!!! LET HER BE SENTIMENTAL!!!! LET HER HAVE PPL TO CARE ABT!!!!!!!!!! IM LITERALLY CRYING IM GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!

She would go barefoot from this point on, her heels clutched at her side. When she left the hotel room to steal into the night, she promised herself not to look back.

im sorry im just. so sad rn. i havent cried over a fic in YEARS and we still have another chapter ago i hate this SO MUCH..............

here comes chapter 11

if i cry even once more im going to stab!!!!!! im not sure what BUT ILL STAB!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even without his wings, the Manticore would easily have been twice the size of any of the other Grimm, far outstripping them in sheer bulk.

HATI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HATI HATI HATI

holy shit we actually get to see him this time!!!!!!!!!!! WE GET TO SEE THIS LEGENDARY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS CHONCC,

also hes a manticore now which is, Radical, may i just say, and just a little bit sexy,

The effortless grace in each move betrayed power most Grimm would not live to achieve. Once he stood, he had to dip his head low to meet her eye to eye. His canines were the length of her forearm.

if u werent here for the remaster? we never even SAW hati but now hes here, hes Big, and rly thats all that matters,

Like a child who’d been allowed to lie and lie until at last they’d strangled themself in the web they’d spun, Cinder couldn’t speak. Could only wait on his verdict.

every single one of cinder’s inherent themes is killing me and this business w/ family? stop. im dying. this is rude

The scant space between them popped and cracked like an sparking flame, warm and effervescent, and this time, Cinder lingered, hugging Hati close.

IF I CRY ONCE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF U ASSHOLES MAKE ME CRY ONCE MORE I WILL DOXX YOU,

aaaaaaaaaaaaaah im loving this content i rly dont have words for it dhjfgsdfgjh i just, rly like the words, and the order theyre in, and i honestly keep forgetting to liveblog it cause i just wanna READ EM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tempting as it was—as it always had been, ever since she’d left the relative safety of the wastes and learned what happened to scraggly-limbed teens with horns and fangs and gleaming eyes—

with every chapter i desperately have 2 kno more abt baby cinder i HAVE to know i am so. UNBEARABLY CURIOUS... baby cinder what happened... what happened 2 u....

A lantern’s glow warmed her, bleeding into the darkness leeching at them both. It was a gentle gold across her skin, and like an answering signal from a distant outpost, Cinder saw a flush of light through the dark fur lining Hati’s throat, as though flames licked at his insides.

i forgot. that cinder glows like that when she feels Loved or full of pride and you know what i dont like these chapters. they were made to hurt me and i Dont Like That (im mclovin it)

From the safety of Hati’s neck, she found it easier—after all this time, he was still her bastion.

WHEN YOU REALISE? THAT YR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?? STOP,

For a regular person, the machine would be able to draw out short bursts of power, the likes of which no Semblance could ever channel. The taxation would eventually destroy the soul so deeply, so thoroughly, as to leave it empty for good.

For a Witch? For—

the fact. she cut herself off before she could think ‘for glynda’. has me on the FLOOR. this bit is just So Much i dont like it

Glynda Goodwitch would not abandon this hunt. Cinder knew it, had read it from her palms like an open book—Glynda Goodwitch did not know how to stop. If it had been anyone else on Remnant, they might never return, might never pull themselves back into action after today—but Glynda did not have a shred of self-preservation.

me, knocking against cinder’s head: u kno for someone w/ so many schemes in yr brain yr pretty dumb and gay, huh,

firstly let’s talk abt cinder’s “””””””””””””””””””self-preservation””””””””””””””””””” instin-- whats that? not found? yes

[Glynda’s] eyes were empty, hungry, insatiable.

i feel like ive read this line before! lets jump back a chapter--

In [Cinder’s] eyes, there was a subtle, endless hunger.

WAKE UP CINDER SHE’S YR SOULMATE!!!!!!!!!!! THE COFFEE’S READY U CAN SMELL THE BACON FROM HERE WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With a fluid leap, they were in the air, the ground quickly shrinking beneath them. Pressing her face against his neck to shield herself from the wind, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was to come, trusting Hati to deliver her safely.

that said i ADORE my boy hati is literally the best part of offal hunt kc and diesel do not interact,

He was frozen in horrific anticipation, like watching an imminent tragedy and being absolutely helpless to stop it. Like all the tension was mixed with grief and hopeless, futile fear.

when will offal hunt be nice to me. when will any of these characters get to be happy. hello. im full of sadness.

The sound was like a saw working back and forth, but resonating inside her head, rattling every tooth in her jaw, deafening to her ears.

im literally gritting my teeth at this i can hear it in my own head and its Very Bad!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

okay god i can barely handle to quote anything more this bit is hurting ME so lets swiftly move on before I Die

Cinder closed her weary eyes, sinking into sleep like a shallow grave.

BE NICE TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE TO HER JUST THIS ONCE, PLEASE, IM BEGGING YOU,

They only knew death, only ever sought death; fangs and claws slicked with blood, magic rending meat and marrow apart, and everywhere that choking, scalding heat, spilled blood like magma, like the core of a planet.

hmm... that seems like a 👈😎👈 ~reference~

They were all alert, ears pricked, hackles raised like Hati’s. They all fixed on the same spot, somewhere beyond the darkness of the cave opening, and though she could barely think, she knew:

She was out of time. The Witch was here.

oh no.

okay so THATS CHAPTERS 10 AND 11! i only cried ONCE and u kno what thats. a Victory. these two chapters were VERY GOOD i rly loved em and i can tell new readers r gonna have a blast w/ this shit!!!!!!!!!! meanwhile i, a veteran reader, am full of peril,

terrible.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #in this liveblog murphy ACTUALLY CRIES

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thenobullshtblog-blog · 6 years

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Ink Etiquette

Since I am getting a new tattoo in September it’s made me think about all the questions, comments and unwanted concerns that I usually get when I advertise I am getting a new piece.With that, I've been inspired to do a rant style blog on stupid shit people say regarding my tattoos. At the end I’ll answer some typical general questions for those who want to get inked but are doing a little more research first.

First things First-tattoo etiquette, you gonna learn today.

Stop telling people they will regret their tattoos

What do you care? It’s not your body, you don’t have to look at it every day! Who gives AF. I cant tell you how many times people have told me I will regret the size of my tattoos, the placement, and that if all my pieces don’t have a huge significant meaning that im gonna wish I never got them. IT’S NOT TRUE. I am not you, so don’t project your shit onto me-10/10 we have different views about life, Negative Nancy. My two largest tattoo pieces have no special meaning. It’s Art. I love art of all kinds, and wanted it on my body because its beautiful and badass. I’ve had one of those tattoos for over 4 years now, have never regretted it a day in my life and its honestly my most highly complimented piece. So suck it.

Stop asking people if they’ve thought about how they will look when theyre 40 or 80

Well spoiler alert, I take phenomenal care of my skin and body in general and I have full intentions of being a super hot milf until I reach the puma and then cougar stage so I’m really not worried about anything up until my mid 70’s. I do understand the general laws of aging and gravity but can you honestly tell me that 80 year old saggy wrinkly tattooed skin looks WORSE than non tattooed saggy wrinkly 80 year old skin? Yeah I didn’t think so.

If you don’t like someones tattoo-you actually don’t have to Say Anything.

So many people have this burning desire to voice an opinion that was never actually asked for. If you don’t have anything nice to say-don’t say anything at all. Unless they ask you for your brutal honest opinion, I would try and avoid commenting. Now if someone has a shitty tattoo I’m not saying lie to them, but just keep their feelings in mind as this will be on their body Forever unless they get it removed or covered up. I've had people ask me if I like their tattoos-and if I don’t like them either because i’ts not my personal style, or it’s a poorly done tattoo this is what I say “oh wow, who did you go to?” and then I start asking about the artist. That’s a safe bet. You don’t need to comment, especially if your comment is not nice. Again-these are permanent, it’s not a shirt that they can return at the store.

Realize that your preference of tattoo style and size may be different than someone else

Go big or go home, has always been my thought when getting a new piece. I’ve always loved large tattoos, dainty isn’t really my style. I am a little extra and I like that part of my personality to show with the art I wear on my body. I’m so tired of the bulging eyes people give me when I tell them how big my piece will be, or when I show them the ones I have (after they ask). You don’t have to get a massive tattoo and I understand large pieces aren’t for everyone-OK but get your active bitch face under control especially if you’re going to ask someone a question about size. I’m not shitting on the infinity sign you have on your ankle-lets move forward.

Stop saying “my tattoos are for me”

This is also something people say to me once I tell them how large my piece will be, they normally respond with “oh, I’d never get a tattoo that big-my tattoos are just for me”. Cool? Mine are too? I didn’t pay all that money, give my literal blood sweat and tears to the ink table if all my pieces weren’t for me. I honestly prefer to have pieces that I can see in pictures, that are easily displayed where I will be able to admire them every day without being totally naked. I don’t need a hidden tattoo on my ass cheek for it to be “for me”. Unless you literally have a tattoo that you got because someone else begged you to get it for them because their skin physically cant be tattooed for some odd reason, and you want to specify that the new tattoo is for you-OKAY THEN STFU.

Stop asking people how much their pieces cost-it’s tacky.

We ALL KNOW that nice ink isn’t cheap. Generally speaking people don’t go around bragging about how much they dropped on a sleeve. Ink is an expression of Self, not Wealth. If you really like the artist who did that persons piece, ask them for the artists Instagram or website so you can get their contact info and email the artist directly to inquire about pricing. On the flip side-if someone’s tattoo looks like dogshit, don’t ask them how much they paid for it. They probably know it looks like dogshit and it’s a sensitive subject- you asking about the price is just salting the wound.

Before you ask somebody Why they are getting what they are getting, consider WHY you are asking them that.

There are usually only a few reasons why people ask about what someone is getting, whether they know it or not. A lot of people don’t even Realize why they are asking what they are asking until they think about it.

1. they love art, and are truly interested

2. they don’t support tattoos and want to give you the whole “don’t put a bumper sticker on a Ferrari spiel”

3. they want to add their two cents to what it is you are getting, try and impose their ideas or change your mind to redirect your vision. Regardless they will subconsciously judge you by the content of your piece and form ideas about you based on what you’re putting on your body and where.

If you are asking “why” for any reason other than the first one. Kindly fu*k off.

Nobody puts bumper stickers on Ferraris, but how many ‘rraris have you see with custom pant jobs, bruh? And as for you Linda, nobody cares that you don’t like my futuristic post-apocalyptic leg sleeve idea-you’re not changing my mind. Fu*k your two cents if it’s not going toward the bill. And we both know it’s not, so again-kindly fu*k off.

Alright- so that just about concludes my ranting about stupid shit people say or ask. Lets get to some actual Q&A’s/tips and comments.

What does it Actually Cost?

It depends on the artist! Some artists charge by the size of the piece, and some charge by the hour. Whenever I email a new artist I always ask them if they charge by the piece, or hourly-they’ll let you know. From what I’ve experienced I’ve typically had artists who charge between $150-$250 per hour, but my philosophy when getting a piece is “spare no expense”. This is going to be on your body FOREVER. No, I’m not ballin like LeBron, I’m ballin on a budget, so yes I do have to save up to get my pieces-but it’s always worth it. You get what you pay for.

What does it feel like?

The best way I can describe it, is a hot cat scratch over and over again. In some more sensitive areas it can feel like what I imagine branding would feel like. Everyone has a different pain tolerance and skin sensitivity, so some areas may be more sensitive on some, than others. A lot of people say the ribs are by far the most painful-to be honest when I got my sternum piece although the bony part of the sternum was murder, the ribs weren’t bad at all-in some spots it rattled my rib cage so much it kind of ticked. Likewise, some people get inner bicep/tricep tattoos like it’s nothing, the back of my tricep killed me. I was almost in tears. It totally just depends on your skin.

Go the Extra Mile

If you cant find a local artist that you Love, drive. Even if it’s 2-3 hours out of the way. Again, this is going to be on your body forever. I would rather drive an extra 2 hours or so for the artist I know is going to crush my piece, than a local artist who would probably do an okay job. That’s not to say you cant find a good local artist-but if you cant, expand your search radius.

Walk in, or wait?

It depends on what you want, but if you’re asking for my suggestion I would do as much research as you can on the tattoo shop. Look at customer reviews, the artists online portfolios. You'll have better luck than hoping you randomly pick a good place for a walk in. Although I do have a walk in lettering tattoo and it looks just fine haha For a planned piece understand that the artist you want may be booked for the next couple weeks, months or up to a year. Don’t get discouraged, you'll have time to really think about the piece you want, change any details, and usually if they're booked that far out-they're pretty good and well worth the wait.

Color or Black and Gray?

This is a personal preference. Growing up I Hated how pale I was, being a ginger was a struggle all around but the porcelain skin was definitely a target. I hated wearing shorts, and never did all through high school because of how beaming white my legs are. To be honest I didn’t start wearing shorts until I got my First tattoo. Artists and tattoo admirers alike have complimented my skin time and time again, and how the colors in my tattoos really pop because of how pale I am. So, I prefer color tattoos because they show up super vibrant and it makes me feel even more comfortable in this vampire skin. I don’t necessarily think color is better over black and gray and in some cases I think that it also totally depends on the type of piece you are going for. Consider your skin tone, the type/style of piece you are getting and then decide.

Think it over, and speak up.

I feel like a lot of the “regret” that people are talking about with tattoos comes from spontaneous ideas or trends. There have been so many times I have seen a bad ass concept for a tattoo and I thought about finding and artist and setting an appointment ASAP. The next day I will revisit the idea and go eh, I guess I don’t love it that much. I have a Pinterest board that is just for my tattoo ideas, I pin shit on there so later I can look at it and think if that’s something I really want or not. I definitely recommend either pinning similar images of a concept you want, drawing it out, or writing it down in a notepad and then sleep on it. You'll be surprised how quickly you may change your mind in the course of even a few days, a week, months or a year. If you’ve had the same tattoo concept for quite a while, and every time you revisit the idea you still love it just as much-it’s probably safe to start on that piece when you're ready.

When you finally decide to get your piece, the artist will usually have it drawn out in some form, either on paper-or on an iPad of sorts that shows you all the details and potential coloring (if you're getting color). Do Not be afraid to speak up if you don’t like something or want to change something. It is their job as the artist to accommodate your wants especially since they are putting something permanent on your body. Even when you get the stencil on, if you don’t like the placement, or want to change something-let them know. They can remove the stencil pretty easily and print out a new one after they fix whatever it is you want fixed. But don’t just deal with something if you're certain you don’t like it. You're gonna have to look at it every day.

Artistic Freedom

This is just another opinion-and by no means a fact. But I’ve found by giving the artist freedom on my piece has always made them turn out even better than I imagined. There are quite a few people out there who go in with a very specific piece or picture in mind and are disappointed when their piece doesn’t look EXACTLY like the picture. Well, that’s pretty hard to replicate as it is but especially when that artist isn’t the original artist of that picture or drawing that you bring to the table. This does not go for portraits-obviously you want your Marilyn Monroe to look like Marilyn Monroe and a portrait artist definitely should be able to replicate that haha I am talking about more “creative” pieces you want. My suggestion, have a few pictures of things you like (and some things you don’t like) regarding the concept of your tattoo and tell your artist to have fun with it. If your artist enjoys drawing up your piece and has freedom to add their flair on it, it will probably turn out better than you micro managing the shit out of them. I’ve always given artists freedom and I’ve always been crazy surprised at how the piece they gave me turned out way better than anything I had in mind.

This is all that I can think of? I probably lost 99% of you by the first 500 words, but to those of you who made it to 2,376..cheers.

#tattoos #tattoo #ink #ettiquette #lifestyleblog #rant #letsgetweird

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phandomsecretvalentines · 7 years

Text

Tell Me Everything Will Be Alright

This is my fic (and my first phanfic wow) for the 2018 Phandom Secret Valentines, and my valentine is @citrouillephan!

I hope you enjoy! -from your valentine, @realityfallsapart

tags: fluff, angst, 2009 AU

words: 4.7k

Summary: Dan Howell tends to get lost in his head and his thoughts have a habit of ruling him even when he doesn’t want them to. When he and his best friend finally have a chance at meeting, Dan starts to wonder if he is actually good enough for the amazing human being that is Phil Lester.

(ao3 link)

(Thank you so much to @moonbeamphan for reading this over and helping me! This wouldn’t be as good without you!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan typed his answer and sent it by hitting enter before leaning back in his chair and letting out a shaky breath that seemed to rattle his insides. His laptop chirped quietly, announcing that Phil had replied to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it right away. Finally, after a few moments, he flicked his eyes down to the white screen of the computer in his lap where Phil’s most recent message seemed to glare up at him.

Phil :) (9:47 PM)

i know!

i can’t believe it either!

For a few moment, Dan could do nothing but stare at the screen; at the black words disrupting the artificial white light. It was the only thing that gave Dan any sort of illumination in his room; everything else was dark. He bit his lip and thought about the possible pros and cons of shutting his laptop and burying his head under his duvet to pretend that everything was fine because it was. It’s all fine.

Dan shook his head and reached his hands down to the keyboard. He wouldn't—couldn’t—do that to Phil. Phil deserved so much better than that. His numb fingers typed out a small sentence, only realizing that it had several typos until after he had sent it. He mentally kicked himself for it.

Dan ^-^ (9:51 PM)

Me niether! it seems like thsi would n e v e r happen!

**neither, this

Jeez i can spell

Phil :) (9:51 PM)

idk dan are you sure you can def spell? those seem like some pretty beginner mistakes…

Dan knew Phil was kidding. He knew that it was just Phil playing around with Dan like they normally did. Like they had been doing for months at this point. But in Dan’s heightened state of anxiety and stress, he couldn’t help but berate himself further. God, Phil must think of him as a kid now, he can’t even spell right!

Dan crashed back into his mattress, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid….” he muttered, hitting his forehead with his hand with every word.

Looking back on this moment, Dan would laugh and realize how utterly idiotic his anger with himself was coming from, but right now, in bed with the lights off and by himself, he couldn’t help but magnify the issue. He had been anxious and stressed without a pause this entire week.

He looked up at his ceiling, sighing in growing frustration towards himself, but it wasn’t just because of his inability to catch his typos. In fact, it had nothing to do with them. The typos had just tipped him right over the edge and all of his insecurities crashed over him like waves, his head nearly going under the tide.

To say he wasn’t good enough was an understatement. To say that Phil deserved a much better best friend than Dan was even more of one. Phil was older, more experienced, more mature, funny, smart, kind, and extremely compassionate. He had a great time making pretty successful and entertaining videos (at least in Dan’s opinion, and he would always fight anyone who said otherwise) on the side, on top of balancing life. Dan was younger, so much more less experienced with everything, he got overwhelmed with life and spent the majority of his time curled up under his covers surfing through the waves of his latest existential crisis or playing PC video games that he would forget about within the next 24 hours. He was purgatory in the form of a human and an incredibly underwhelming one at that.

He wasn’t sure how long exactly he laid there, stewing in his self-deprecation and wishing that he was better. Better in literally every aspect, maybe then he would finally be worth Phil’s time, if only a little bit. His computer chirped again, and then twice more minutes later in rapid succession, as if angry. Dan grasped for the thing, pulling it up to his chest, lacking the energy to sit back up.

Phil :) (10:07 PM)

Dan you know im joking right?

Phil :) (10:16 PM)

Dan? you still there? i was joking i promise you can make all the typos you want

u didnt fall asleep did you?

Dan couldn’t help the watery smile that turned the corners of his mouth up, albeit it being a small one. Phil had that effect on him even if Dan was falling apart on the inside. Just a little though, he was fine.

Dan ^-^ (10:18 PM)

nooo im not sleeping

Phil :) (10:18 PM)

Dan ^-^ (10:19 PM)

why the frowny face

Dan tried to keep the fear out of his thoughts but the talons of doubt had already settled around his heart. Was Phil mad that he didn’t answer right away? Would-

His laptop signaled the arrival of Phil’s reply, and Dan really didn’t know if he wanted to slam the lid of his computer shut or jump at the opportunity to find out if he had just ruined the best friendship he had ever had. Ever will. He went for the latter.

(Dan supposed he might be overreacting, but then again, when wasn’t he, it seemed?)

Phil :) (10:20 PM)

did i insult your typing skills one too many times? is that why you disapeared?

*disappeared

Dan used the best coping mechanisms for dealing with his anxiety that he knew: humor and avoidance. Together, they were a formidable force and Dan had spent a large majority of his time perfecting their potency.

Dan ^-^ (10:20 PM)

now look who’s making the typos

Phil :) (10:20 PM)

Dan.

He gulped. Now he had done it. Fuck. He had to fix this.

Dan ignored the roar behind his ears that seemed to be screaming that he should just ignore this all, pray that things would magically fix themselves and change the topic. That was his fear talking. His self-abandonment. His anxiety. His everything. Phil was worth so much more. So Dan pushed it all away for just long enough to reply.

Dan ^-^ (10:21 PM)

sorry, joke

no, thats not why i ran away

i was just thinking, thats all

Phil :) (10:21 PM)

were you doing it again

Dan tried to pretend that he didn’t know what Phil was talking about and simultaneously cursed himself for telling Phil about his increasing habit for getting lost in his thoughts. He failed. He knew exactly what Phil was talking about.

Back, about three weeks ago in a later-than-normal conversation where all of their inhibitions seemed to dissipate, Dan had finally come clean about how sometimes thoughts got the best of him. He would crumble under them, get so completely and utterly lost in his head that he would sometimes stay there for hours on end, picking apart anything that his conscience decided to dig up. And it hindered Dan, made him hate himself just that much more, made him hate how easily his anxieties held him hostage, stuck. But he couldn’t do much about it, it seemed, for whenever he got lost in his head, he always forgot that he had to get out.

Dan gulped. He had to lie his way out of this. He knew that Phil didn’t like it when Dan got stuck. He could pull off nonchalance, right?

Dan ^-^ (10:22 PM)

Phil :) (10:22 PM)

im not convinced

you were werent you

Dan ^-^ (10:23 PM)

does my word not count for anything lol

Phil :) (10:24 PM)

maybe if we were talking and i could see your face it’d count

Dan ^-^ (10:24 PM)

what’s my face got to do with anything?

Phil’s bubble appeared on the screen once, twice, three times, before he apparently decided on what he was going to say and sent it. The entire time Dan was a few words away from having a breakdown. His hands were shaking. His mind was racing faster than normal. Faster than it had in what seemed like a very long time.

Phil :) (10:26 PM)

bc then i could tell if you were lying

tho rn i dont even need that

Dan ^-^ (10:26 PM)

are u seriously saying im lying

Phil :) (10:27 PM)

yeah

you did everything that you always do when you arent telling the truth

you joked

changed / focused the conversation onto smth else

and besides

ive gathered that you really dont like to talk about the things that bother you. you like to ignore them and stuff

Dan ^-^ (10:28 PM)

so how bout we not talk about them then

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

normally, maybe

but not with this

Dan ^-^ (10:29 PM)

and why not?

Phil :) (10:29 PM)

bc i dont like it when you beat yourself up in your head

Dan ^-^ (10:30 PM)

who said i was beating myself up in my head

Phil :) (10:30 PM)

… dan :/

youre avoiding again

Dan cursed himself. God, since when could Phil read him like a book?

Dan ^-^ (10:32 PM)

fine. maybe i am

what are you gonna do about it philly?

Phil :) (10:32 PM)

daaaaannnnnn

you arent allowed to beat yourself up

no ones allowed to

especially you!

Dan giggled, just a little. He couldn’t help it when Phil was being…well, Phil.

Dan ^-^ (10:33 PM)

and why not? Hmm?

Phil :) (10:34 PM)

bc youre my favorite person silly

my favorite person cant be sad. its just the rules

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

oh yeah? whose rules then, oh wise philip

Phil :) (10:35 PM)

ew dont call me philip my nan calls me that

and theyre my rules

my rules for my favorite person

Dan ^-^ (10:35 PM)

suuurrreee phil. sure its a rule

*philip

Phil’s cursor didn’t appear seconds after Dan had sent his message like usual. Insead, nothing appeared. Their good-natured banter had eased the storm raging inside of Dan and his thoughts and anxieties had died down a little, much more easier to bear with the distraction Phil was giving him, but with the sudden disappearance of his best friend, they came back full force. All of his doubts spilled into the front of his conscience. He shivered. It wasn’t from the cold.

Dan watched the little digital clock at the bottom of his laptop screen count the minutes falling away. One, two, three, four, five, god did what did he do-

Phil :) (10:41 PM)

[multimedia image: click to load]

With his heart in his throat, Dan clicked, and a small window appeared, momentarily covering their chat from Dan’s view. It was hard to make out, the quality bad and the image itself grainy and dark, but it was of a piece of paper lying atop two legs clad in bright pyjamas that Dan could immediately connect to Phil and his eccentric personality. He could make out the tip of Phil’s finger at the top of the shot, too. Squinting, he looked at the paper itself, zooming in to make out the words penned in Phil’s handwriting.

Rules:

1. Dan Howell is my favorite person

2. No one is allowed to make fun of him

3. ESPECIALLY if that “no one” is Dan himself

Dan started to laugh. Only Phil would actually make a list of “rules”. Only Phil.

Before Dan could reply, Phil was typing again.

Phil :) (10:43 PM)

there. proper rules written on proper paper. you have to follow them now

Dan ^-^ (10:44 PM)

i cant believe that you actually wrote rules you spork

but fine! i guess if i have to lol

Dan was still working heavily with avoiding the whole situation entirely, just like with what he was doing to the problem causing him so much stress to begin with, but he couldn’t help it. It’s just how he was.

Phil :) (10:46 PM)

so you admit to your crimes xD

but anyways

you were stuck in your head again

which is okay, i mean, i understand that it’s something you cant help

Dan felt like he was going to cry. Phil’s assurance that Dan’s mind running in panicked circles was perfectly okay was almost too much. Phil’s compassion was almost too much.

But it appeared that Phil wasn’t done, because his laptop dinged quietly again.

Phil :) (10:47 PM)

can i ask whats got you so sad and worried

so i can beat it up

obvs

Now Dan really wanted to cry. How could he tell Phil that the reason was him? How could he say that the root of this ball of anxiety and stress and worrying that had taken over him was Phil himself?

He couldn’t do that to Phil, not when his best friend would undoubtedly take it hard. God, if Phil knew why Dan kept getting lost in himself, he would be crushed.

Dan ^-^ (10:51 PM)

noooo

Phil :) (10:51 PM)

are you sure? i wont judge you dan, i swear it doesnt matter if you think i wont like it

i just wanna be here for you

If Dan wasn’t crying earlier, he was now, a few select tears dripping down his cheeks, brimming with the emotions that had been taking over him this past week. Phil was…too much. He was too kind, too sweet, too undeserving of someone like Dan. God, Phil deserved the whole world, he shouldn’t have to settle with Dan.

Another message appeared on Dan’s screen, as but this one didn’t seem like normal, it was a little off, a little rushed, a little…something. Dan couldn’t place it.

Phil :) (10:53 PM)

bc youre my best friend.

obvs. xD

If Dan wasn’t so out of it and was able to think clearly, he might have questioned Phil’s “clarification” of why and what sense he wanted to be there for him, but Dan was not in the best state of mind and he thought nothing of it.

Dan looked at his screen again. He still had to acknowledge Phil’s question, and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. He wanted to tell Phil he already told him everything, have Phil reassure him and tell him that everything was going to be okay again, like he normally did. But Dan couldn’t. He couldn’t lie again, once was already once too many, and something told Dan that if he tried to ignore it or change the topic, Phil would just call him out again.

Fuck.

Dan ^-^ (10:56 PM)

it doesnt matter

Phil :) (10:56 PM)

yes it does

its enough to make you get lost in that head of yours, so it matters

Dan ^-^ (10:57 PM)

phil we both know it doesnt take much for me to get lost in my thoughts

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

still

something is bothering you and i want to fix it

Dan bit his lip. God, Phil had no idea how badly he wanted to let him fix this. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t.

Dan ^-^ (10:58 PM)

nooo phil, you cant fix this one

Phil :) (10:58 PM)

>:(

you cant even let me try?

Always, always, but just not with this. Dan couldn’t tell Phil this, not when it would hurt him.

Dan ^-^ (11:00 PM)

no phil, not with this sorry :(

Phil :) (11:01 PM)

:((((

okay

i may not like it but i can respect that

will you tell me tomorrow?

Dan looked at the screen, thinking about it. Tomorrow was what he was worried about to begin with. Could he tell Phil tomorrow? He wasn’t sure. Well, it didn’t matter if things went good or not, Dan mused, tomorrow Dan’s fears would either be affirmed or destroyed.

He could only hope.

Dan ^-^ (11:03 PM)

sure

tomorrow

Phil :) (11:03 PM)

yay!!!

Dan laughed, breathily.

Phil :) (11:03 PM)

oooh! look at the time!

its getting so late bear wow

guess we should get to sleep so we dont fall asleep on each other tomorrow huh? xD

Dan’s heart physically melted at the use of Phil’s pet name for him. He only used it occasionally, but it never failed to make Dan’s heart stutter in his chest and the butterflies in his belly to flit around faster, making him feel almost giddy. Hopeful.

God he sounded so stupid right now. Anxious and stressed out of his mind yet still acting like a little kid with their first crush.

Stupid feelings.

Dan ^-^ (11:05 PM)

yeah i guess we should!

night philly :)

Phil :) (11:05 PM)

goodnight dan!! :D

see you tomorrow!

(ps, idk whats bothering you and thats okay but i hope whatever it is it works out for you :“) )

Ah yes. That’s what it boiled down to. Tomorrow morning Dan would board a train and take it up to Manchester to spend some time with Phil. The first time that they would see each other in real life, not just behind a computer screen. They had skyped before and texted and chatted for countless hours over countless days, but the thought of tomorrow still made Dan want to throw up.

He wasn’t good enough for Phil. He was just so terrified that tomorrow Phil would see that.

Dan ^-^ (11:06 PM)

After hitting send Dan thrust the lid to his laptop down and pushed it off of his chest, letting it fall onto the bed. Dan felt sick again. He was so scared about tomorrow because there were so many things that could go wrong and so many flaws that Phil could discover about Dan and so many, so many, ways for what is supposed to be the best day of Dan’s life to turn out to be his worst.

God, he hated his anxiety for always picking things apart. Always fucking with Dan’s own head.

Dan rolled over and grabbed his duvet, pulling it up and wishing that it would just swallow him whole. Fuck. He couldn’t do it tomorrow. He couldn’t handle this stress.

Taking a deep breath, Dan clutched his duvet tighter in his grasp and tried to keep his lip from wobbling.

Right now he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to forget that he didn’t feel good enough, that yet again his insecurities were screwing him over, that he wanted to cry. He wanted to forget. Unfortunately for Dan the universe didn’t agree and he ended up staying awake for hours after the he had closed his laptop, the entire time doing nothing but thinking, getting lost in his head, and wishing that his thoughts would just turn off.

For once.

Please.

~~~~~~

Dan slung his bag over his shoulder. His fingers felt numb. Unlike his greatest hopes, the fitful-at-best night’s sleep did nothing to alleviate Dan’s terror. If anything, it had only magnified it because now it was today and Dan couldn’t run anymore.

He took a cab to the station, and he ended up being earlier than he needed to be, having about an extra ten minutes to wait for his train. He sat on a bench, his legs nothing but jelly at this point, his fears making it quite easy to foresee his long legs from just giving out on him. Dan didn’t want to make an embarrassment of himself on top of it all, so he tried to calm his racing heart while he sat.

With no luck.

Of course.

Dan looked down at the ticket in his hand. It would be so easy to not go. To walk right out of the station, spend the weekend at home instead of with Phil, and not risk Phil seeing how utterly underwhelming Dan was as a person. He could lie, could say that he ran late, missed his train, maybe his parents changed their minds and didn’t let Dan go.

But God, as Dan looked down at the paper in his trembling hand, he couldn’t help but know that he wouldn’t be able to actually go through with not leaving. He wouldn’t be able to lie to Phil, not about something this big—who was he kidding, he had a hard enough time lying to Phil last night over something so small!

But more than that, Dan knew that it was much more than not being able to lie to Phil. He had wanted to meet Phil ever since he had started to watch his videos, and the sentiment had only increased tenfold with their fast friendship. Phil was now much more than a hero, much more than a few minutes of distraction. He was Phil, Dan’s AmazingPhil, and he was his best friend. That lanky black-haired boy was worth so so much in Dan’s eyes, and he couldn’t, couldn’t, leave him in the dust like that. God it wouldn’t just kill Phil, but it would kill Dan too. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Dan had been thinking too hard. Before he knew it the train was pulling into the station and Dan gulped, raising on still-shaky legs and gripping the strap of his bag so hard he didn’t even have to look to know that his knuckles were blotched white.

As Dan took his seat, a new resolve washed over him. He would go. He would endure this train ride that undoubtedly would be the most anxiety-inducing thing he had done in a very long time—possibly ever—and he would do it for Phil. If Phil would reject him or not, he would try not to dwell on it on the coming trip (a losing battle, Dan knew), but he would still go.

For Phil.

~~~~~

Dan’s heart was going so fast he was sure that he was going to pass out. His hands, his arms, legs, his whole body was trembling.

Manchester’s Piccadilly Station.

Dan was here.

There was a decent amount of people on the station as far as Dan could see as the train pulled in, but none of them looked like his best friend.

The train came to a stop and Dan stood, the first to make it to the doors and there when they opened.

Strangely enough, when the doors pulled open and Dan took a step out into the station, he stopped trembling. His heart slowed—not by much, but it slowed—and this whole thing didn’t seem quite as scary. Sure, Dan’s thoughts were still screaming in his head, sure, his anxiety was still off the charts, and sure, his hands were still sweaty and his breath was still shallow but still. It was as if a calm had washed over him.

Dan wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he was just going into shock.

People busied around him, walking this way and that, talking into cell phones, to other people, some silent. Dan, unsure of everything right now, followed where the general push of people were guiding him, the whole time craning his head, looking for his Phil. He tried not to panic. He tried.

But with every second the calm that had overtook him was shrinking and his anxiety steadily increased.

Did Phil forget? Did he stand me up? Oh God he’s not coming he didn’t come-

"Dan!”

Dan whirled around at the sound of his name, uttered by a voice that sounded so much better when it wasn’t distorted by their shitty computer’s speakers.

Before Dan could register really anything, he was being engulfed in a hug, two strong arms wrapping themselves around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him flush against the figure.

Against Phil.

And instantly all of the shouting in Dan’s head was gone. The slight tremble in his hands vanished, and for the first time in a week, his anxiety was gone without a trace. Dan felt like crying.

Dan gasped in surprise, his brain taking a moment to reboot because Phil didn’t forget, didn’t stand him up, didn’t change his mind, and suddenly Dan felt very, very stupid because how could he ever think that Phil would do something like that. This was Phil, the kindest person on the planet.

Phil pulled away, just a little, just enough so they could see each other’s faces, and Dan had to keep himself from pulling Phil back in.

His smile was so wide, easily the widest Dan had ever seen it. And his eyes, oh God those eyes were a thousand times clearer, a thousand times more mesmerizing than behind a screen. Dan didn’t doubt for a second that he could stand here and look into them for the rest of the day without tiring of their never-ending beauty. Fuck. Why did his eyes have to be so gorgeous.

Dan tore his eyes away from Phil’s and looked over the rest of him, from his broad shoulders that Dan wanted to wrap his arms around, to the tussle of his hair that Dan craved to run his fingers through and the line of his jaw that Dan felt the need to trace. Double fuck. Why did the entirety of Phil have to be gorgeous.

“Dan! I can’t believe you’re here! I have today all planned out; I’m going to show you everything!” Phil said excitedly, a twinkle as clear as day in his eyes. Phil was practically vibrating with excitement and it made a smile spread over Dan’s features. Phil’s happiness was contagious.

Phil stopped his rambling, looking down at Dan sheepishly.

“I mean, if that’s all okay with you. If you don’t want to do something that’s okay, I totally get it. We can do anything you want, I-”

Dan tilted his head back and laughed, laughed because Phil seemed nervous. Phil was nervous and it was adorable.

“Yeah, yeah Phil it’s all fine. All of it, don’t worry. I just can’t believe you want to do it all with me.”

Phil’s smile faded a little, and the twinkle in his eye got that much smaller. He looked a little sad.

“Was this what you were so worried about? That I wouldn’t like you?”

Dan bit his lip and looked down, giving a little nod.

Phil pulled Dan right back into a hug, but this time it felt even more real, and it was impossibly tighter. It felt like Phil was pulling all of Dan’s lost pieces together. Phil’s voice was in his ear.

“Of course I like you, Dan. You’re my best friend. I like you more than anyone else. Promise.”

Dan might have just felt like crying, in that moment. Phil accepted him. He wasn’t going to leave him. Things were okay. They were okay.

He knew that this would hit him later, maybe tonight when he had a chance to process things. He’d probably cry out of relief, but it would all be okay because Phil would be there to hold him together and ease all of Dan’s worries.

Soon enough they set off, hand in hand, and Dan was smiling so wide, so, so wide. He couldn’t have been happier with how things had turned out.

Dan looked sideways at Phil, trying to not be too obvious.

This had worked out so maybe, just maybe, something else could work out for him.

~~~~~

Dan stood at the window, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was early, and he could see the technicolor dream across the sky that was that morning’s sunrise. The steam from his coffee rose from the rim of the cup and slowly diffused into nothing; tendril-like hands wisped up and around Dan’s neck.

It had been nearly nine years.

Dan’s nervousness and dark thoughts never ceased to plague him, however, he learned to deal with it better. He could confidently say that he has never been happier.

It had been nearly nine years, and they were still inseparable. Their channels had grown exponentially, and they boasted an insanely large fan community.

As the years had gone by, their strong, unbreakable friendship slowly blossomed into something remarkably beautiful. Their long Skype calls turned into late night kisses, and they had been happily in love for nearly nine years.

Dan twisted the ring on his third finger. As well as being happily in love, they were also engaged to be married within the next year. Lately, he’d been waking up in complete disbelief.

The thing Dan had wanted so desperately to work out for him did, and in the most perfectly perfect way possible.

#submission

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