#it's too short and contextless for me to want to put it on ao3 but it is its own little thing so !! tadaaaa

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

little hrose camp fic snippet

“Of course you have blue hair and pronouns,” The Gap scoffed.

“What??” Antone replied, baffled. “What does that mean? You have pronouns too?? Most people do, in fact. And what does my hair have to do with anything?” 

They ran their fingers through their pomp, but didn’t feel anything wrong with it. It was a little crunchy — he would have to speak with Navy about getting some other product for it; his hair should be soft and luxurious! — but not anything that should truly be noticeable, much less outright objectionable.

Ainsley snorted. “Okay, liberal.”

“What’s a liberal??” Antone demanded, confusion swiftly tumbling into anger, especially when The Gap started chortling.

“You got ‘em, Ainsley!”

Both of them refused to explain any further.

[sidhelives]

Writing Tag Game

I was tagged by @kittynomsdeplume, @noire-pandora, AND @hezjena2023. Thank you thank you thank you! I'll tag @the-cryptographer, @frostyfelassan, @piecesofsolaswriting, and @beaubartley.

1.How many works do you have on AO3?

Fourty-Nine. Going for that big five-oh this week.

2.What’s your total AO3 word count?

*checks* 291,655 words

3.What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Listen Closely (Skyrim. Cicero x f!Listener) - 104 Kudos

Reunion (Mass Effect. Shepard x Thane Krios) - 52 Kudos

Care to Dance? (Dragon Age. NSFW. Varric Tethras x Cassandra Pentaghast) - 52 Kudos

A Chance Encounter (Dragon Age. NSFW. The Iron Bull x f!Trevelyan/Solas x f!Trevelyan) - 49 Kudos

The Inquisitor's Intentions (Dragon Age. NSFW. Solas x f!Trevelyan) - 46 Kudos

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I didn't used to when I started out, I didn't quite have a good handle on the process. Now I respond to every single one. I want commenters to know how much I appreciate them taking the time to comment and comment more!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ooof. Angtiest? *looks* So I've got some Solavellan pieces in compliations which are pretty angsty, but I tend to have hopeful endings at the very least. I guess "angstiest" ending would be one of these two:

The Scars (Mass Effect Andromeda)

Just (Dragon Age. One Sided Aveline x Isabela)

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Happy endings! Yay! I do a lot of happy endings, but I think happiest would be one of these two:

I Can Only Hope You Won't Be Too Disappointed (Dragon Age. Nathaniel Howe x f!Cousland)

You Composed the Cadence of my Heart (Dragon Age. Isabela x Bethany Hawke)

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't actually! I once accidently referred to Thedas as Tamriel in a fic once, but that's as close as I've gotten.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not in comments or to my face. I'm sure people have said unflattering things about my work, but not to me. Fuck em. I write this shit for me.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I write far more smut than is healthy for someone as Ace as I am. I mostly write f/m stuff, I've done a little f/f (working on one atm), and I've brushed up against m/m in group sex situations. I used to write a lot of m/m a lifetime ago, so I'll probably get back to it at some point.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Le gasp, no. I didn't even know this was a thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Like Hez, @piecesofsolaswriting recorded one of my fics as an audiofile, if that counts:

Take My Hands Podfic (Dragon Age. Fenris x f!Hawke)

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't. The idea is very appealing though.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

OOOOOOOOOOOOF. Asking the hard questions. Based on my wordcount you would probably guess that it would be Solavellan (and I do love it, don't get me wrong) but I'm very partial to Anders related ships. I've personally written a lot of Anders ships (Including my crackship Anders/Trevelyan which I ADORE) and I just like that boy.

So basically like... I don't know dude. All them.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I try not to leave WIPs behind as a rule but I have a couple falling behind that I'm worried about:

a Mass Effect Andromeda fic following Sara from her almost death on Habitat 7 through the game dealing primarily with her relationship with SAM but also her internalized fear of Turians and how it conflicts with her attraction for Vetra and the complexities of the human condition

a Dragon Age fic where Regan Hawke arrives at Skyhold with her entire family (Fenris, their two sons, Bethany, Isabela, and Carver).

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm very good at dialog, particularly banter. Also metaphors.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions are the worst for me. Going from one location/time/situation to another is a chore, I just want to be there (explains why I write so many contextless one-shots). Smut takes me forever to write and I have a very hard time injecting emotion into it.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it depends on the fic honestly. I use a lot of Elvhen in my fics, any fic I write with Zevran has some Spainish (Antivan), and I've touched French (Orlesian), Tevene, and Qunlot. Sometimes it's translated by the characters, sometimes I provide a glossary in the notes, and sometimes I don't give any translation at all. It depends on the POV and the tone of the work honestly.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age. It's all that damn Egg's fault.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooooof. Favorite Fic... I love everything I've written tbh, so I'm just going to do it by category:

Favorite SFW One-shot:

Between Rocks and Hard Places (Dragon Age) - A character study of Loghain Mac Tir set just after the Landsmeet and taking the Grey.

Favorite NSFW One-shot:

This is How it Starts (Dragon Age. NSFW. Solas x f!Trevelyan) - Desdemona confronts Solas privately and they have a heated discussion.

Favorite Ongoing Long Fic:

In Dreams Awake (Dragon Age. Will be NSFW at some point. Solas x f!Hawke) - After escaping from the Nightmare, Hawke wanders the Fade, searching and hoping for a way out. What she finds is something quite different.

Favorite New Fic (It's my blog I'll put in as many favorites as I want):

I'm Sorry I Ruined Your Party (Dragon Age. Might be NSFW at some point, haven't decided) - A short chaptered, POV switching romp with the DA2 kids surrounding an unexpected arrival in Kirkwall.

[twobit-anime-trash]

Painting Outside the Lines | D.N Angel Ficlet

Pairing: Satodai (Satoshi/Daisuke)

Summary: Post-curse, after the dust settles, the boys try their hands at making 'bad art' by badly imitating Jackson Pollock. Fluff and angst and tenderness and hilarity ensues. Or: I don't make the rules of 90's rom coms, I just work here

Warnings: Mention of scars, very minor contextless spoiler for the end of the manga, minor angst, mostly fluff

Here on Ao3

“Jackson Pollock was an American expressionist painter, active from the mid 1930’s to 1955.”

In the depths of the Niwa family’s infamous basement, a room had been cleared out. Covering most of the grey stone floor was an enormous fifteen by eight foot canvas, pinned down haphazardly by open cans of house paint and scattered brushes and sticks.

Daisuke fiddled with a thick dowel rod, eyes following Satoshi as he paced the edges of the canvas, confidently educating his only pupil on the artist whose work they’d be bastardising today. Oh the lectures he’d get about the “damn Hikari walking around like he owned the place” if his mother saw this. Daisuke shook his head and tuned back in to the speech.

“-of course most famous for his iconic ‘drip paintings’, a style that came to define the-“

It had taken them a long time to get to this point, for Satoshi to be ready to paint again. The desire was still there, had always been there, but it had been tamped down for so long, held down with so much fear, it was very hard to let it loose. The handful of times he’d allowed himself to paint outside of his training, the work was always constrained. Limited to imitation, re-creation, or locked down in the traditional Hikari style: realistic, overly ornate, cold.

“-rejected traditional material’s and instead use alkyd enamels, better known as commercial household paints, and tools such as hardened brushes, sticks, and basting syringes to-“

This was something Satoshi had been toying with for a long time, ever since the day Daisuke carried him to the Niwa home, and he caught sight of the messy vent painting Daisuke had made while he worked through his frustration. Art had never actually been available to Satoshi as a tool for self-expression before. After the dust had settled, he’d confided in Daisuke that it was something he’d like to try. To not feel the pressure of his family legacy pushing down on him every time he picked up a brush, to let go and not care about what the end result looked like.

“-instead of limiting himself to merely using his hand and wrist, Pollock used his entire body dynamically to create his pieces-“

Daisuke was trying to pay attention, really he was! But watching Satoshi stride about so self-assuredly, gesturing with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, not at all insecure about his scars, well, it made that difficult! His heart was racing with pride; Satoshi had fought so hard and come so far. Half of Daisuke wanted to cut the lecture short and tackle him to the floor right then.

“-actually Pollock himself described his paintings as not relying on accident at all, but rather as a balance of controllable and uncontrollable-”

It also didn’t help that confidence looked really, really good on Satoshi. Daisuke felt his face heat up. Oh what would Dark say to him now? A little bubble of sadness welled up in his chest at that thought, but he pushed it aside for the moment. This wasn’t about their families, or legacies, or the curse; this was about them. They were going to have fun today, doing something that would have their ancestors all rolling in their graves: making art together.

“Are you listening, Daisuke?”

Busted. “Ah well……”

Satoshi shook his head with a put upon sigh, and put a hand on his hip. “Well, I suppose it’s not too important. After all, the rules don’t matter here today,” His lips quirked into the slightest suggestion of a smile.

“Color theory?” Daisuke asked playfully, dipping his dowel rod into a can of lime green paint, “Never heard of it!”

“Indeed,” Satoshi nodded, choosing a burnt orange color for his start. He dipped a stiffened brush into the paint, but paused before he could draw it out. Daisuke held his breath for a moment as he watched Satoshi take a deep breath, and square his shoulders.

“Well,” he said, finally raising the brush, “shall we get started?”

Daisuke beamed at him, “Only if you do the honors!”

Satoshi slowly raised the brush, letting globs of burnt orange hit the canvas in thick drops, then gently flicked his wrist, sending a streak of paint splattering against the canvas.

“Yeah!” Daisuke cheered, flinging his paint stick out and sending another stripe of paint down to join the lone splatter.

Satoshi graced him with an amused grin and flushed cheeks, “Go on, and have at it.” Daisuke was only too happy to oblige.

It took a bit of warming up to get over the awkwardness of the movement, but soon they got into a rhythm. Working his way back and forth, and round and round, Daisuke sampled the many garish colors on offer, dripping, flinging, and splashing them around the canvas quickly and slowly, changing his tempo whenever the mood struck him. Soon he became absorbed in the strange dance of it, smiling and laughing as he lobbed strings of paint harder and harder to hit the center of the canvas. So absorbed even, that he forgot to keep an eye out for his painting companion until-

“Niwa”

“Yeah?” Daisuke said, looking up, “What’s up Hiw- OH!” His sentence cut off in a squeak. From across the room, Satoshi was giving him his patented deadpan, the effectiveness of which was somewhat undercut by the large hot pink splatter of paint that streaked up his arm. Some had even managed to hit his face and glasses.

“Oh my god! I’m so, so, so, sorry Satoshi!” Daisuke sputtered, dropping the paint stick and waving his hands frantically. “I got caught up in it, I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t mean to get paint on you! M-maybe if we go upstairs and wash it right now-”

“It’s fine Daisuke,” Satoshi cut him off with a wave of his hand, “When you’re doing this kind of work, you don’t wear clothes that you would mind getting a bit messy,” he flicked his arm, sending a few droplets of paint flying down to the canvas where they were supposed to be. “Just be careful.”

Daisuke’s face burned. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Of course Satoshi, I’ll be more careful! I promise!”

Embarrassed, he drifted towards the edge of the painting, further away from his partner. Of course he’d managed to make a fool of himself in front of Satoshi, as usual. Stupid! He angled his body away from the other boy, and decided to stick to carefully dripping paint instead of flinging it for a while.

His resolve lasted for a few minutes, until something cold and wet suddenly splashed across his back, and Daisuke jumped, his head whipping around instinctively looking for the source of the attack.

Across the canvas from him, Satoshi’s expression hadn’t changed, even though he had a very incriminating dripping-wet brush clutched in his hand.

“Oops. Sorry, Niwa-kun,” he said flatly.

Daisuke’s brain stuttered for a moment. Had Satoshi just….he cocked his head, looking closer. Sure enough, there was the slightest ghost of a smile in the corner of Satoshi’s mouth, and he would swear he saw laughter in his eyes. Oh. So that’s how it was, huh?

Daisuke waved the ‘apology’ off cheerfully, but behind his smile he was scheming. Game on, Satoshi!

Years of training kicked in as he stalked around the canvas, keeping his body language casual as he waited for an opening. When he had to turn his eyes away, his sharp ears listened for his target’s footsteps amongst the sound of paint hitting the canvas. Finally he found the opening he’d been searching for, and struck.

Satoshi started, but this time didn’t call attention to the ‘accident’. Instead he just kept dripping paint with his back to the other boy. Daisuke looped around the painting again, carefully casual, turning and twisting with his paint trail. His back had only been turned for a few seconds when he realized the sound of footsteps had disappeared. Splat! Another direct hit to his back. Daisuke whipped around, but Satoshi still had his back to him, dripping paint in a wide arc at the other end of the canvas.

So he definitely hadn’t lost his touch either! Daisuke smirked. Their little game of cat and mouse continued for a few minutes, the opponents exchanging carefully calculated blows one after the other. And then a wicked idea suddenly sprung to Daisuke’s mind. He quickly picked up a stray brush, dipped it in the nearest paint can, and tucked in into his back pocket. His pants would be destroyed, but if his tactic worked…he bided his time, waiting for Satoshi to strike again.

This time, when a volley of paint hit his side, he turned to the other boy and laughed, dropping the paint stick in his hand and throwing his arms up in surrender. ‘Ok, ok,” he chuckled, making his way around the painting to Satoshi’s side, “you got me!” He moved his arm as if to wrap it around the boy’s shoulder, but with nimble fingers at the last moment, snatched the paintbrush from his pocket and smooshed it right into Satoshi’s hair.

Who froze for a moment, eyes wide with surprise. And then his lips curled into a smirk as he let out a huff of a laugh.

“Oh, it is on now Niwa!”

It devolved from there into all out warfare. The basement witnessed a battle like no other as paint flew everywhere, splattering against the walls, floors, even the ceiling! Screams and laughter echoed down the halls as two boys chased each other around and around like the children they were, leaping, and slipping, and crashing into each other in a cacophony of sound and color.

Eventually even the former Phantom Thief host ran out of stamina, and the paint stopped flying, as the two soaking wet combatants stopped on either side of their painting to catch their breath.

“Well I’d say that experiment was a success!” Daisuke exclaimed, as soon as he had the wind for it. Indeed, their canvas had managed to catch some of the paint, even though the process had involved some acrobatic moves that he was pretty sure that Pollock had never used.

“I’m pretty sure most of the paint ended up on us,” Satoshi said dryly, wiping some paint from his brow and gesturing to the canvas, “But I digress. There you have it, the first collaborative artwork in existence created by both a Hikari and a Niwa. What do you think?”

Daisuke backed up a few paces to examine their handiwork. It was a mess, well and truly, streaks of garish, oversaturated colors clashing wildly against each other and mixing muddily in splotches. Smeared handprints and two different sets of shoe treads littered the edges of the canvas. There was a large smudged blotch in the bottom left corner where two bodies had hit the wet paint and tussled.

“It’s awful, I love it!”

Satoshi looked down at it with a critical eye, leaning over and spotting a clean patch of canvas that had somehow miraculously avoided getting splattered.

“It’s missing something,” he said cryptically, and beckoned to Daisuke with a crook of his finger. Daisuke trotted over, curious, as Satoshi brushed a thin layer of light colored paint on his palm and pressed it to the empty space for a few seconds. He fanned one hand over the wet paint, and wordlessly handed Daisuke a paintbrush dripping with a darker paint with the other. Daisuke followed his lead, coating his own palm with paint as well.

“Here, put your hand down right there” Satoshi directed, “That’s it.”

Daisuke pulled his hand back, and looked down. Before his eyes were two handprints, layered as if two hands were pressed against the canvas together. His breath caught.

“There. Though it’s a bit corny, I suppose….” Satoshi said, his tone carefully bland, and glanced away.

Daisuke didn’t think. He reached out with his hand still tacky with drying paint, turned Satoshi’s head back, and kissed him softly. The lips against his stayed still for a moment, before gently returning the kiss.

After a moment, Daisuke pulled back and stroked the other boy’s cheek with his thumb, smearing the dark paint even worse.

“I changed my mind, it’s a good painting.”

Satoshi looked at him, blinking as if to clear the stars from his eyes, after all this time still awestruck by the affection. And then he smiled so softly that Daisuke couldn’t help but kiss him again. And again.

Later, when they came up from the basement to clean up for dinner, if Kosuke noticed the suspicious amount of paint handprints all over the two boys’ skin and clothes, well, he kept it to himself.

-

A/N: So remeber in the manga when Satoshi passed out at school and Daisuke took him home and Satoshi sees Daisuke's vent painting where its a total mess of feeling on the canvas and Satoshi says he likes it and that he could never paint something like that. NOW YOU CAN BABY, NOW YOU CAN! Now you don't have to hold yourself back and keep yourself in a cold little canvas frame, you can pour your feelings into it and it doesn't have to be perfect or even good it just has to FEEL-

SUGASAKI LET ME SEE THAT CANON FOR A MINUTE, WAIT A MINUTE JUST LET ME SE-

Anyway...been chatting a lot with Luanna about the boy's post-canon lives, and basically them reclaiming their lives and childhoods. One thing I really want for Satoshi is for him to be able to make quote unquote """bad art""", meaning that I want Satoshi to be able to explore his own style without fear of failure, to experiment and try things that might not work, to make kitschy or weird or ugly art. Like, the boy has been cut off from expressing himself in any way for so long, let him explore self-expression through art! And its Satodai this time because Satodai was like, the og ship for me and I need it.

Also, two fics in a month??? I haven't posted two fics in a year since 2016 wtf. As always, comments and critiques appreciated!

[irphanfic]

Moonshot - Chapter 5

Hey! So this has been a very busy week for me but I hope you like the new update! I have been writing like crazy this two days and I think you will enjoy it.

Anyways, any type of feedback/comment is welcome!

summary: Phil had a feeling that this Friday was going to be different.

That didn’t mean he was ready to meet his favourite baseball player, Daniel Howell, while he was cleaning the windows of a building.

or the au in which Phil is a shy window cleaner and Dan is a famous baseball player. This is their story.

words: 3.1k

trigger warnings: panic attacks

Read on ao3 - (x)

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Texts And Cafés

Two weeks. They had been texting each other for two full weeks non stop and Dan had never felt so attached to any person this way. Not even his team mates or even his own family.

Phil was such an easy person to talk to. He didn't know why, but both could talk for hours and not get tired of it. Maybe because he had never had this kind of strange connection and compatibility with someone before.

Even when Phil texted some random animal fact at 3pm on a Thursday or sent him a weird internet meme that he had seen on Twitter, Dan couldn't be happier. Even his team mates had noticed he was feeling more cheerful, and by the few hints he had told them, they could guess it had to do something with a crush.

A smile creeped into his face as he recalled the first time he had heard Phil's northen voice through the speaker. It had totally been an accident, as Phil explained later in their call, but somehow he had managed to dial Dan by sitting unintentionally on his phone, a fact that keep them both laughing for almost twenty minutes.

He didn't waste time complimenting Phil's accent after their laughs died down just to hear a light chuckle from the other line that, even though Dan couldn't see, he was sure Phil had blushed and smiled shyly at the same time.

How he missed that smile and those eyes... Just having conversations with the blue eyed wasn't enough for Dan. He wanted to talk to him face-to-face, stare at his expressions as he told him childhood stories he had been wanting to hear.

He needed to see Phil. And soon.

But what if Phil didn't want to meet him in person because of his fame? Maybe he was scared of the media or even Dan... What if he dissapointed Phil or bothered him by his presence?

''Howell! Stop daydreaming! It's your turn now!'' His coach's voice startled him from his thoughts, looking apologetically at him and walking embarrassedly to the field.

Dan tried to concentrate, but thoughts of Phil kept coming at the same speed of the balls that were being thrown at him. He tried to get all the battings and throws right, but it was not working. He was missing almost every single one and coach kept shouting at him, which was not helping at all on his effort to be focused. He could feel his team mates gaze on him, as if they were judging him for not being professional enough.

His breath started to quicken, short and shaky puffs of air were making his body tremble badly. Dan could feel it, his throat was closing and wanted to scream for help but no sound was coming out... Was he having a panic attack ? He hadn't had one in years and it was happening to him now in the middle of practice? It was a nightmare. He wanted to get out of here as fast, but his feet nor legs were responding.

His baseball bat fell down on the sandy area, hitting his toes in the process but he couldn't even feel the pain. ''No, no, no, c'mon, calm down'' he whispered to himself in a quivering voice, but it did nothing. Also, hearing the murmurs of his team mates wasn't helping either...

Suddenly a voice was softly calling him. Dan recognized it, even though it wasn't really clear he knew it belonged to Eric, who was in front of him, holding him by the shoulders, ''Hey, Dan, I'll take you to the lockers, okay?''

Dan just nodded and tried to focus on what Eric was telling coach, but his gaze and ears were not cooperating, making him hear and see all blurry.

He could feel Eric's hand on his bicep, dragging him out of the field, reaching the locker room and sitting him down on one of the benches, handing him a paper bag he had somehow found around there so Dan could even his breathing that was already coming down to normal.

''Better?'' Eric asked him once he had managed to calm down, sitting down on the same bench but keeping a safe distance between both.

''Yeah... '' Dan coughed a bit, sipping a bit of water from a bottle his team mate handed him, instantly feeling the coolness down his throat, feeling a bit better, ''thank you for taking me here, I... I... I don't know what happened, really. But, thank you.''

They both knew it was a lie, but Dan didn't have enough energy to explain. He wanted to go home and curl up on his sheets for at least three days...

''Don't worry, I understand.'' Eric stood up, offereing him a small smile with sympathy before walking to his locker and picking up his things, ''c'mon, I told coach I would take you home for today, you are in no state to continue. You need time to relax, not think much''

Dan slowly moved his head up and down even though Eric couldn't see him, but also stood up to pick up his things.

Eric was right, he just needed to relax and not think. Could he do that?

_______________

Once Dan reached his flat he dove himself on his wide bed, face first on the pillows and slowly drifted off to sleep, trying to regain the energy he had consumed.

He woke up a few hours later, disoriented, rolling around a few times on his sheets before getting out of bed and having a quick shower, changing into his comfy pyjamas and grabbing something to eat, feeling a bit better already.

Dan walked back to his bedroom, picking up his phone from his discarded bag at the feet of his bed and lying back on his duvet, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes distractedly, just staring at nothing.

Only the vibration of his phone shook him from his blank thoughts, a text notification from Phil coming in, a small smile already showing on his face.

He lifted his phone up so he could read the text, putting the gadget in a risky place since it could fall on his face anytime, but Dan quickly forgot about that fact, opening the long conversation thread he already had formed with Phil.

'Did you know that a koala pregnancy only lasts 35 days and when the joey is born it's blind, hairless and is about 2 cm long?'

That silly fact about the cuddly marsupials was enough for Dan to have a grin on his face. Phil was for sure the only person who knew so many random facts.

'wow. Now I wonder what a hairless koala looks like' Dan answered, already knowing that Phil had gone on a quick quest to Google Images to show him.

'It's so weird, omg. It looks cute, but weird anyway.' was Phil's next text, a photo of a small koala folded in some blankets but no hair around.

Dan chuckled, it was strange for sure. Follwing the topic of pictures, it had been a while since Phil had sent him fluffy puppy pictures, he could have some sweet dog pics after the day he had had.

'I miss your dog pictures :(' Dan typed, but before he could send it he felt a sneeze coming through and before he could stop it, his phone had slipped from his hand and landed on his face, hitting his nose hard, not being able to catch it on time.

''Ouch! It hurts!'' Dan said loudly, gently touching his nose with his fingers and checking it hadn't been that bad. It wasn't bleeding so it was a good sign.

Dan put some pillows against his headboard and sat straight, not risking anymore having his phone up by his face. By the way, where was his phone?

He spotted it screen down by his left, picking it up and re-reading what he had sent, expecting to find a dog photo as a response.

''No. No, no, no,'' Dan repeated, lifting his messy curls from his forehead as a nervous gesture, ''this cannot be happening.''

In the middle of all the sneezing he had manage to erase half of his message when the phone slipped from his hands, and instead of a 'I miss your dog pictures :(' he had managed to send a contextless 'I miss you'.

Dan couldn't believe it. He was going to scare Phil for sure... Even though he really missed him he hadn't planned to send him this kind of message anytime soon!

He was going to type another text, explaining what had really happened when a new message from Phil popped up.

'I miss you too. It has been a while since we have seen each other'

'What!? He missed him too!?' Dan jumped at the message, seriously freaking out. He didn't expect that text from Phil, not at all. He couldn't have guessed in a million years that Phil was also missing him. He wasn't used to people missing him, wanting to see him.

Dan smiled softly at that. They missed each other and even though it had been on accident, he was glad they had both managed to confess something they wouldn't had admited.

Once Dan had somehow calmed down, he was ready to text back. Should he ask Phil to meet him in person? Was he ready after all that happened at practice? He had to deal with it sometime and even if he liked it or not, Dan had to face Phil in person sometime, and if Phil was disappointed that's something he would have to accept.

'Wanna meet sometime this week?' Dan left his phone fast as soon as it delivered, as if it burned and was afraid to know Phil's response, which came through a few seconds later.

'If you want to, sure! I have the perfect place. Are you free on Saturday?'

_______________

Saturday arrived and Phil was waiting for Dan the cozy vintage-y café that he found once while strolling mindlessly one cold November day, nursing a capuccino as he wrote the next lines of a horror story he had been wanting to put into paper. Phil had had this place in mind when Dan messaged him about meeting each other. The delicious warm drinks mixed with the homely and private maroon coloured booths were really a win-win.

He was kind of surprised when Dan told him he missed him, but Phil didn't question it. He didn't felt brave enough to admit it and when he saw the message he saw the perfect opportunity to express his feelings.

Phil was a bit nervous, he had to admit. He was really meeting Daniel Howell for real now, but tehy had been talking for so long that it felt they had been long lost friends by now, but that didn't erase the fact that Dna was a famous baseball player... 'It is just Dan. The one that loves Mario Kart and anime the same amount as you Dan.' Phil thought, but it wasn't really helping.

Shaking that though out of his head Phil looked at his phone to check the time and saw it was a few minutes past five, meaning Dan should be here soon.

After grabbing another sip of his coffee, the blue eyed began writing again, slowly developing the story he had in mind, getting so lost in the words that he didn't even manage to notice the shadow that appeared next to him till he heard a cough followed by a shaky voice?

''Excuse me, is this seat taken?''

Phil looked up at the voice and noticed a nervous smiley Dan looking at him as he put down his cup of coffee on the table, looking as if he wanted to hug him next but didn't know how to do so, opting to fidget with his fingers, trying to restrain himself from reaching out.

'Why does he seem so nervous? It's me who should be, not him. I'm just Phil!' was all the blue eyed thought, not really understanding why, but before he could think more about it his excitement won the battle against his worries and stood up from the booth, exclaiming a cheerful ''Dan! You are here!'' not too loudly so it wouldn't attract attention.

''Hi Phil,'' Dan greeted him properly, looking directly into his eyes ''I... I'm glad you agreed to meet me.''

''Of course, why wouldn't I?'' Phil questioned, cocking his head to the side a bit, ''I'm glad you agreed to meet me of all!''

Dan averted his gaze to his feet, shrugging his shoulders as if also hesitating to tell Phil what was the reason why he had said that. ''I don't know. Because I thought maybe you would feel pressured because of my fame or something...'' he muttered, his voice almost quiet but continued, ''I mean, I'm not that famous, but still, even though we have been talking a lot you might have another image of me that the media portrayed, so yeah, I might be disappointing... '' Dan rambled, finishing with a sigh.

''Oh,'' Phil let out, surprised. Dan though he might be bothered by his celebrity status, but no, Phil wouldn't believe anything he read or see on the tabloids. He had a pretty idolized image of Dan before he meet him, per se, but after all they had talked he couldn't even think about the possibility of not wanting to see him because of it. Dan was even more nice than he could have ever imagined, it would never let Phil down.

That's when he realized Dan might be more insecure than he let on. He was a person, he had emotions like everyone else, and Phil believes sometimes they didn't even care about Dan's feelings just because he was famous.

''Dan,'' Phil called him, waiting for the warm brown eyes to meet his, ''You could never disappoint me, not after meeting you for real.''

With that, Phil opened his arms, giving Dan the chance to back down if he didn't want a hug, but by the smile that appeared on Dan's face, he had made the right choice.

Both hugged for a few minutes, their chins resting on the other's shoulder, and Phil felt how Dan squeezed a bit, trying to bring him closer...

They separated, mirroring smiles on their faces as they sat down on the comfy booth, sides touching but looking at each other attentively as they started talking about mindless things, catching up on what they hadn't been able to text.

For hours, light hand touches and caresses where traded, just as pink cheeks and toothy grins.

Phil found out that afternoon that saying goodbye was hard, even if you knew you were going to see that person again.

_______________

''Phil, do you have any snacks left?'' Martyn asked from the doorway of Phil's lounge room, not getting much of a response since Phil was lying down on the couch, crazily texting someone on his phone, a dumb smile on his face.

''Phil, are you even listening to me?'' Martyn repeated, getting just silence as a response.

''Phil! Your ceiling is falling down!'' this time Martyn screamed, finally getting a reaction from Phil, who left his phone rapidly on the sofa and sat straight up.

''What!? What is falling down!?'' the younger Lester screamed back, sobering up as he saw Martyn laugh. ''It's not funny!'' Phil threw his brother a cushion, hitting him on the chest before he let him sit down next to him.

''You weren't listening and I had to catch your attention somehow! Your face, oh my God'' Martyn tried to calm down a bit, ''By the way, who were you texting that had you smiling down at your phone like that, uh?'' he elbowed Phil on the ribs, who squirmed a bit trying to get away from his brother.

Phil blushed a bit and denied messaging someone, but his brother didn't buy it and kept insisting, finally making Phil give up, ''I was texting Dan, okay? Stop it!''

''Wait,'' Martyn sobered up instantly, ''Dan as in Dan Howell? You have his phone number and text each other? Why didn't I know about this again!''

Phil shrugged, ''It never came up, I guess.''

''Still, is there anything else you haven't told me related to Dan?''

''Well... We talked, finally meet in person, had coffee and keep talking, that's all.'' Phil said as if it wasn't a big deal. He left out the fact that they hugged, he believed Martyn couldn't handle tat much info.

''You meet!? Are you telling me you meet in person!?'' his brother's offended tone made Phil chuckle. He really needed to speak to Martyn more.

Phil decided to tell him everything, from how they started texting till how they promised to see each other next week that Saturday at the café.

''I just... When we said goodbye, it totally felt like something more than two friend meeting, you know?'' Phil said, not really knowing how to explain.

''Like a date?'' Martyn's smile could be heard in his voice, not teasing, just happy that Phil was getting somewhere with Dan. Or at least, hoping too.

Phil nooded, ''Yeah, I mean, I knew it wasn't but, it still felt like one.'' A date. A date with Dan Howell. That would be a dream for him.

Martyn also nooded, acknowledging that same feeling he had had first with Cornelia a few years back.

''Ask him.''

''What!? I'm not gonna ask Dan freaking Howell on a date, are you out of your mind!?'' Phil said, completly rejecting the idea.

Martyn just stared at him, wanting Phil to think about the idea again.

''No. No, no, no, I'm not going to do it. I refuse.'' Phil said, shaking his head repeatedly. Just about he stopped denying, he saw the mischevious face his brother had on. ''What are yo...'' but before he could even finish, Martyn picked up his phone that had been lying between both all this time, rapidly typing something as he ran towards the front door, Phil by his heels, shouting and trying to grab his phone from his brother's hands.

''Thank me later brother'' was all Martyn said to Phil before he left the flat, tossing the phone back to his owners hands and closing the door right by Phil's nose.

Phil leaned against the wooden door and read what Martyn had sent to Dan.

'Wanna go on a date with me?'

Phil was going to kill Martyn next time. He was sure of it.

Chapter 6