#(I say ignoring the fact that Phil was standing in the exact same spot for 3 minutes)

[royalarchivist]

Wilbur: Tommy’s a fake Lovejoy fan. I don’t even send him the early shows of the songs anymore. Phil: Aw, no, don’t be mean. Wilbur: No not out of spite it’s out of — it’s a tactical thing. Tommy was like our top 1% of listeners for “Are You Alright?” so I figure: “Why lose a customer by showing them the songs early when they can stream the songs when they come out?”

Tommy being a “fake Lovejoy fan”, and other stories from the Lovejoy tour.

#SBI #Wilbur Soot #Philza #Tommyinnit #MCYT #wilbur #Tommy #Phil plays Hardcore #Lovejoy #Man that transition was AMAZING I'm so good. that took all of 3 seconds to do #(I say ignoring the fact that Phil was standing in the exact same spot for 3 minutes)

[wouldduskwood]

Descendants of Despair Part 55

Phil had his head down. He looked gaunt compared to the photos I had seen of him. When he reached our table, he lifted his head and his eyes lit up. “Thanks for coming,” he said as the guards stepped back, allowing him to sit opposite us. I nodded without saying a word, not wanting to give too much of my intentions away yet. It was far easier to build a picture of someone when you had the power. Dan greeted Phil in a typical bullheaded bloke style. I watched, trying to establish a baseline between their casual conversation. It wasn’t an easy task, as both men were doing their best to shelter. I guessed this was because they had a few run ins in the past. I was forced to rely on micro expressions, which is something that I didn’t like to do because it meant staring directly at someone to spot any slight change in their expression. Micro expressions usually only lasted around ⅕ of a second. It tended to make people uncomfortable and self conscious when spending this much time staring at them.

Once the typical small talk had run dry, and I had gathered as much as I could on reading Phil’s facial cues, I finally spoke. “So, you’re innocent.” I stated, matter of factly. Phil’s eyes widened briefly.

“You believe me then?” he asked. I considered his question. Believe him. Not so much. Believe the evidence we had so far that the man without a face was still active, absolutely. But did it mean Phil wasn’t involved in one way or another, not really. Still, when the truth wouldn’t get me what I wanted, lying was nearly guaranteed to. As long as the lie was something they wanted to hear, they’d believe it without question.

“Yes, I believe you. I want to know more about your connection with Michael Hansen and what he has to do with this whole thing.” I said clearly, my tone even and eyes maintaining direct contact. It was a good strategy to convince people that the lie was the truth, even if they were on the fence about it.

Phil smiled. “I knew I liked you. When I get out of here, I am going to take you out for a drink. Perhaps a meal.” I could see Dan was about to speak, and I knew what he was going to say would be something biting about Jake, so I kicked him under the table. The fact that Phil had deflected from the purpose of the conversation concerned me. I was about to respond, flirt if I had to, anything to get the truth from him, when we were interrupted by a form approaching the table. I glanced up and sighed. I had a pretty good idea who our uninvited guest was, so I had a choice. Play it stupid, and hope for the best, or put him off his game. The problem was, I wasn’t 100% sure I was correct in my assumptions, but the risk seemed worth it.

“Ah, my good friend Alan Bloomgate. Nice to finally meet you.” I announced, standing as I did and shaking his hand. This gesture was uncomfortable for me, but it also gave me an element of power in the situation. Alan paused, suddenly off his stride, surprised I had made the connection so quickly. I was thankful that my suspicion was valid. If I had been wrong, the officer would have had all the power.

“Is now a good time to discuss information you may have pertaining to the Hannah Donfort and Amy Lewis Bell cases?” Alan asked, directly to the point. I raised an eyebrow as I considered what he said. The question was stupid really, he knew full well that I had been avoiding that exact conversation. Stupid questions lead to stupid answers, I decided.

“Well, actually now is not a really good time, see I came here to spend some time with my close pal Phil. See, he’s practically family... and, you know how things go when you’re in prison, that time tends to be quite limited,” I announced, unable to keep my snarky attitude to myself, while exaggerating my relationship to Phil. I despised the police in general. They had never done anything to protect me. When I was on the street, they would walk past me like they were blind, even when I was just a kid. It tended to be easier for them, less paperwork and all of that. Unless I did something wrong, then they’d be all over my ass to protect the more upstanding citizens. Of course, my attitude towards them didn’t help matters. Still, it made me feel better.

“I’m sure we can arrange for you to see Mr Hawkins another time,” Alan said, his voice taking on a stern ‘you will not fuck with me’ tone. This riled me even more. I hoped Jake would do something before I ended up getting arrested for assaulting a police officer.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. Mr Hawkins really shouldn’t be in here at all, right?" I paused, thinking to myself 'at least not for everything that the man without a face has done'. "I know you make a habit of going after innocent people, but arresting an innocent man while being blind to the movements of the actual culprit?" I mock sighed, exaggerating it for effect. "Anyway, If you want my opinion on the aforementioned cases, then I’d suggest you cast your net a little further and leave us alone.” I replied, trying desperately to refrain from what I actually wanted to say. Dan and Phil both shot me awkward ‘won’t you shut the fuck up’ glances. However, I couldn’t really be arrested for being a bitch. They could hardly build much of a case on hurt feelings. The best they could do was hold me in a cell for a while. That would be inconvenient but not the end of the world.

As Alan glared at me, I suddenly regretted my response, as I found myself backed into a corner.

“Actually, I was about to tell Mr Hawkins that we would be releasing him on bail, if he is able to make the money,” Alan replied. This surprised me and put me further on the back foot. Just as I was about to dig the hole deeper for myself, alarms started sounding in various places throughout the building. Moving hastily, I grabbed Dan’s arm and motioned he should follow. As Alan’s attention was momentarily distracted, I slid past him and headed into the reception area, walking quickly, but refraining from running. I hoped Jake's alarms hadn’t caused a lockdown. On reaching the reception, I could see that the staff were all staring at the computer screen. Making my way out the front door, I turned briefly to face Dan.

“Can you text Jake the letter D. I’ll be in touch,” I stated quickly then, before he could respond, I was off at a run taking one of my less desired escape routes. I didn’t know whether I could trust him with that simple task, but I hoped he would do that for me, even if I had upset him.

Jumping over the buildings for my escape, I was careful to keep an eye out for the man without a face, but the bigger concern was Alan. I wondered just how much he knew and who he was working in conjunction with. If it was the Government, he now had a good idea where Jake and I were. If it was from my past, then he was a dirty cop and I would have a tail pretty quickly. Either way, I’d fucked up going there and hadn’t learnt much of anything, except that Phil was definitely hiding something. Sliding down the fire escape, I was relieved to see Jake pull up in front of me. He had the door open before I had cleared the small distance to the car. I jumped in and slammed the door, holding on as he sped away.

“I’m so sorry,” Jake growled. “I would have had you out sooner, but from what I could see, you hadn’t gained enough from Phil to make any clear judgements. I knew we had one shot at this...but fuck,” he hissed. I ignored his comment to try and forge ahead. We were in more danger now than we had been since we found each other.

“I think we need to meet up with Dan. He knows Phil better than I do and I have a few questions for him. Then we need to get the fuck out of here, because I have a bad feeling that one of our pasts is going to catch up with us.” I stated. Jake nodded, suddenly looking tired more than anything.

“You’re right, fuck, I’m so sorry, you know that right? I should have been stronger and stayed away from you. You’d only have your own problems to face, not this shit with Hannah and the Government. I screwed your life from the moment I entered it.”

Shit, meeting up with Phil had potentially been the worst idea of my life. Now, not only were we in danger, but Jake had regressed back to pushing me away. Admittedly, I had done the same thing to him in the beginning, but since I had consciously made the decision that life wasn’t really life without Jake, I had been all in. I would manage to live with the dangers of his life and I’d do anything in my power to shelter him from the dangers of mine. After all, couples were meant to share shit, right? And he made me stronger. His defenses, coupled with my own, should be enough to face anything.

As he drove, I glared at him, but he took no notice. Instead his eyes remained fixed on the road in front of him. “Fuck Jake.” I groaned. “You don’t get it, do you? The only purpose I had in my life, before you, was to try and fix the problems I have started. What do you think would have happened to me after that? When my problems were gone, with no purpose? I may have ended up going back to the street. I may have ended up dead. Now I want to live. Now, even after I have fixed my situation, I want to carry on. Because of you, you turnip,” I growled, then shook my head at myself. Jake sighed, slumping in his seat.

“Turnip?” he questioned.

“Ugh, I wanted to let you know how stupid you were being...without being mean?” I sighed. Jake snickered quietly at my response then sighed again.

“Nothing you can say right now will make me feel any less guilty.” He murmured. “I need to feel guilty right now. I need to feel angry and upset. After that, I’ll be more willing to think about our future. But right now, I just need to be angry.”

I nodded thoughtfully and sat back, trying to ignore his presence and give him the time he needed. Eventually he replied. “Okay, you better text Donkey Kong with his new mission,” he sighed with a side smile at me. I giggled. “Wait, why Donkey Kong now?” I asked. “Isn’t it obvious?” Jake replied. “He’s a giant monkey that I could see throwing things when he gets upset, and you are like a very talented jump man that can jump pretty much anything.”

I was glad that Jake had a bit of his humour back, so I decided to encourage him more along this path. “Wait, when did I become a man?” I questioned, unzipping my pants and making a mock show of checking. Jake laughed. “You had better let me check that later, I will be more thorough than you.”

“Hm, yeah I think I’ll allow that,” I giggled as I rezipped my pants. Jake took my hand and smiled. “Listen, what I said before, it’s because I’m scared. It isn’t because I don’t want you. You’ve given my life as much purpose as I’ve given yours. But I’ve given you twice as many problems as you’ve given me.”

“Hm, you’re right.” I replied, pausing and raising my eyebrows as I stared at him. “I can always get a few more, if you like! That way we can be even.” Jake laughed again but tried to turn it into a growl of disapproval. I snickered then pulled out my phone. “Okay, so where are we going to meet Donkey Kong?” I asked. Jake smiled then thought for a moment. “I guess we don’t have a lot of options. Let’s go back to the warehouse. At least we know he knows where that is. We will move on as soon as we have had this conversation...or before it if we see any signs of trouble.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling a weight of dread descend again. Pulling out my phone, I text Dan then sat back, eyes closed, as Jake drove us back to the warehouse.

Part 56

#duskwood jake x #duskwood jakexplayer #duskwood jake x player #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jakexmc fanfic #duskwood #duskwood jakexmc #fanfiction #fanfic #duskwood jake #jake x mc #jakexmc #hackerman #duskwood alan #duskwood dan #duskwood phil

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children

Language: English

Word count: 2142

summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

(ages for characters are in the notes at the start of the ao3 upload)

AO3  

This was supposed to be their hang out spot! Nobody else’s!

Ever since Dream and his brothers had moved in, down the street, everything had gone bad. He was mature though, Tommy was very mature indeed, so he dealt with the majority of things that had changed very well. He could deal with them playing loud games of hide and seek in the street, he could deal with being teased for being the youngest when he and his brothers played with them. That was all very very easy to brush off. What wasn’t easy to brush off though was them stealing the sleepy boys theme park!

When Phil, Tommy, Wilbur and Techno had moved in, it hadn’t taken them long to find a spot that was for them only. It was deep in the woods and covered by loads of trees, a big decrepit sign had labelled the old place as ‘L’manburg’, needless to say, the idea of hanging out in an abandoned amusement park excited all four boys. Tommy loved climbing up the old rides, he always seemed to have extra energy to burn and this seemed like the perfect place to do it; Wilbur had always wanted a large open place he could practice his music without anyone around that would judge him had he messed up; Techno liked being so far from the outside world, making any kind of noise around people other than his brothers was terrifying, not even their own parents heard him talk most days, so a place where he knew it was safe it speak gave him great comfort; Phil just enjoyed spending time with his brothers, being the oldest of the bunch he saw himself as more of a protector than anything.

And boy, with Tommy, having only just turned seven, trying to climb every single rollercoaster he saw, they definitely needed someone there as a protector.

Wil and Techno had been the first to find it, the twins, inseparable since birth, had been on a walk after school. Wilbur’s curious nature often led the duo into some strange situations that could have been easily avoided had they not gone off exploring, this was a good find though. After checking the place out themselves, they immediately went home to tell their brothers about the find. At first they had been hesitant to tell Tommy, they knew for sure that they wouldn’t be telling any adults. Adult’s just weren’t going to understand, they knew that they needed a place without any rules to chill out!

Tommy had a big mouth though, he spoke about everything to anyone and it often got him into trouble at school. He was the exact opposite of Techno in that sense. If they were going to keep this place a secret they couldn’t tell him! Alas, they were left with no choice but to bring him along though, the first time the three oldest had left without him, he had thrown a tantrum over being left out so every time after that their mother had insisted he come too.

After Wil explained that the secret base would be taken away from them if he spoke a word of it to anyone, Tommy promised to keep his mouth shut.

Tommy couldn’t lose his place to burn energy. Techno couldn’t lose the only place he could talk. Wilbur couldn’t lose his music spot. Phil couldn’t lose the chance to hang out with his brothers. So the ‘dream team’ had to go.

Wil said they needed a group name too, Phil came up with sleepy bois inc, Techno thought that was a stupid name Tommy didn’t know what incorporated meant.

And so, they were the sleepy bois, and L’manburg was their hangout spot, and it was being rudely threatened by the dream team, which was the group of three brothers, who had just moved in, Dream, Sapnap and George.

Dream was the oldest at 14, one year older than Wil and Techno were but Tommy still thought his brothers were cooler since they were taller than Dream was. Next came George, he was 13. He was the same age as the twins but once again he wasn’t as tall as they were. Height was very important to Tommy. The youngest brother was Sapnap, he was 11 but he was the same height as Techno, which Tommy though was stupid. He still didn’t think he was a threat though since Wilbur towered over all of them.

When the dream team had first found the old amusement park, he remembered how Wil had frozen up and stopped playing his guitar, how Techno’s mouth clamped shut and how Phil scowled at the fact someone had made his brother’s feel uncomfortable. Tommy had climbed down from the ride he was swinging on and ran over to them to see what they wanted. He was much younger than them but he was the most confrontational out of everyone there. Nobody was allowed to mess with his brothers.

Phil had run up behind him, grabbing him by the shoulder to make sure he didn’t go too close to the strangers, someone really needed to teach that kid stranger danger.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy had remembered spitting the words out like venom in his mouth as he folded his arms across his chest, only for Phil to sigh and pull him back.

“Ignore my brother, Are you lost? You're the boys that recently moved in near us right?” Phil was so polite, even when he was upset, Tommy admired that. “I’m Phil and this is Tommy, back there is Wilbur with the guitar and the boy with pink hair is Techno”

“Dude!” The blonde had yelled out, pushing past Phil and Tommy and running into the theme park, his brothers following behind. “This place is so cool!”

That's when Tommy decided they couldn't stay. It didn’t matter how cool they thought it was, this was their hangout spot and nobody was taking it from them.

Later he had discovered that they found L’manburg through George getting lost and them looking through the woods for him. That had earned him the nickname ‘George not found’, apparently he got lost a lot but Tommy didn’t care enough about the trio to actually find out if that was true. All he knew was what others had told him.

And so here they were, Tommy, Techno, Wilbur and Phil all stood on the roof of an old ticket booth as the Dream team stood on the ground below them. Tommy had filled a pillowcase with rocks that he planned to throw at the others but Phil told him that it was too dangerous and he didn’t want the boys to get hurt when he was the oldest one there. Phil didn’t like Dream and his brothers but he didn’t want to throw rocks at a bunch of kids, he was 16, he was way too old for that kid of stuff.

“How hard is it to share the Theme park! It's a big place, we just want to explore it!” Dream had to lift his mask up a bit to yell to where they were standing. The mask was something weird that Tommy had never really questioned, he supposed it was because his own brothers had their own quirks like that too. Dream sucked but he could keep his face hidden if he wanted to, Tommy had learnt a lot about not forcing people to do things they were uncomfortable after he had tried to get Techno to talk in front of Tubbo. He remembered Phil sitting him down and explaining that Techno had selective mutism and he found it very scary to do those things in front of people he didn’t trust. Tommy understood after that.

“No!” Tommy, always confrontational, had shouted “No! No! No! You’re going to tell people about it and then it won't be a secret anymore!” Stomping his foot, he glared down at the blonde.

“You’re such a little brat! Why can’t you just shut up like your brother, he-” George pointed towards Techno “Never yells about useless shit”

Tommy was okay with being viewed as a brat if it kept his brother safe. Wilbur was furious though. Not only had they insulted his youngest brother but they had also insulted Techno. His twin wasn’t quiet because he was just shy or polite, he literally couldn't talk in front of people he didn't trust. He had so much personality and the fact that George had dumbed him down to ‘the quiet kid’ made his blood boil. Had they bothered to get to know Techno, they would have learnt how competitive and skilled he was, how funny he could be and how intelligent he was overall. They didn’t need to hear his voice to see his personality, they didn’t seem to understand that and that was what made Wilbur the angriest, he could tell Techno was mad too, by the way he gave the brothers a death stare. Wilbur knew Techno would be mad on Tommy’s behalf though, someone needed to be mad on his behalf too.

Without thinking, Wil grabbed a rock out of the pillowcase Tommy had brought and lobbed it at George’s head, causing a big red gash on the side of his cheek. Everyone was silent for a minute. Nobody expected the Guitar playing, beanie wearing boy to suddenly lose his temper like that. Honestly they were lucky that the only result of the rock was a gash in the cheek, it could have gone a lot worse and they were all well aware of that.

With a few yelled insults, the trio eventually scuttled off, presumably to go make sure George was okay. Once they were completely out of view Techno cleared his throat.

“So Wil, what was that about?” he sighed, sitting down on the ledge of the roof, Tommy and Phil soon followed him in sitting down too, Phil making sure Tommy sat next to him so he could keep a hand on him in case he fell.

“They made fun of you and Tommy! and you were hardly going to defend yourself so i had to do something, they can’t go around treating people like that.” Sitting down with his legs pulled up against his chest, he rested his head in his knees, one hand lingering on top of Techno’s for comfort. Techno had never been super affectionate but Wilbur seemed to calm down easier when he had some contact and he didn’t mind holding his hand if that’s what he needed.

“You know we’re going to get in a fuck load of trouble if they tell on us right?” Phil was the oldest of the bunch and while he tried to be the most mature, he did struggle to make the right decisions sometimes. He enjoyed joining in with his brother’s antics and he didn’t like scolding them but in times like these he knew he should probably make sure they knew not to let history repeat itself.

“Yeah..”

“And you know he didn’t deserve to get a rock thrown at his head right?”

Wilbur scowled at that “But techn-”

“Techno is fully capable of standing up for himself, you know as well as I that if that comment had genuinely hurt him he would have done something. Whether that be letting you know, or actually throwing the rock himself, he wouldn’t have just stood there.”

“They insulted Tommy too.” Wil was mumbling now, a bad habit he had that came up whenever he knew he had done something bad but didn’t want to take responsibility for it.

“Tommy literally doesn’t care about what anyone says about him. Wil, You're allowed to be hurt for them and it’s completely normal for you to want to protect them but that boy is going to have a scar on his face. I know none of us like them but next time we run into them you need to apologise for that.”

With a stubborn nod, the brothers fell into a comfortable silence. The sun was setting, Tommy had moved into Phil’s lap at some point, and Techno had Wil’s hand clutched in his own, making sure Wil knew he still cared about him, that even though he had done something bad they all still loved him and they were all still brothers.

If Wil was getting into trouble, they all were, the unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t tell anyone lingered in the air as they sat, huddled together in comfortable silence until Techno broke it.

“Sure we’ll get killed if mum finds out we hurt someone but we’ll also get killed if we keep Tommy out past dark”

“Shit” Phil mumbled as he climbed down from the roof, Tommy in his arms as the youngest grew sleepier. “Okay guy’s home time!”

#wilbur soot #philza #tommyinnit #technoblade #dream #sapnap #georgenotfound #sleepy boys inc #dream team #sleepyblr #dtblr #fanfic

[paradisobound]

I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 6

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count:  2.7k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing

Rating: Mature (for right now)

Updates will be every Wednesday and Sunday 

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3**

Thanks to my new lovely beta @thatphatdanussy who has already begun making some great edits to this monstrosity of a fic lol 

Almost as if time didn’t exist, Tuesday came. Phil doesn’t quite remember how the past four days had gone by other than he spent majority of them with Spike on his couch or working on his computer on his assignment.

But somehow, Tuesday came, and suddenly, it was infinitely more real that he was going to be showing Daniel Howell around London. To say he was nervous was a total understatement.

Phil was borderline sick from nerves.

He didn’t sleep at all Monday night, and when he did manage to sleep, he somehow found himself waking up every twenty minutes or so feeling like he was going to be sick. He eventually resorted to getting up and taking a few melatonin pills before collapsing back into bed, at least a little bit more drowsy this time.

His alarm woke him up at half past eight and he slowly began to get up, despite his body’s protests to remain glued to his bed. He quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and put in his contacts before he checked his phone and saw a message from Daniel.

Daniel Howell: good morning my manager is saying that I should get to the BBC as stealthily as possible so im sadly already here ill be waiting just inside the doors.

Phil sighed. He knew that Dan had just told him not to hurry, but now he felt like he had to hurry up so he didn’t keep him waiting. They were supposed to meet at the BBC at around 10 and it was only a little after 9 now.

Phil quickly made himself an instant coffee to go and said his goodbyes to Spike before rushing out of his flat and down to the nearest tube station.

When he arrived at the BBC, it was a quarter to 10 and Phil honestly thought that the timing could be worse. But he was super relieved to not see the fangirls situated around the BBC anymore and having it look like normal. Phil was happy to see it as it’s normal building and not a mob of police tape and teenagers.

He walked inside, scanning his badge as he did so, and made his way towards the only area he could think of that Dan would be in. He turned a corner, and sitting directly in one of the lounge chairs was Daniel Howell, sitting with his legs crossed. He was wearing a pair of tight black ripped jeans, and even though he was donning a very expensive looking jacket, Phil could just barely make out a fuzzy black sweater underneath.

He looked down at himself and frowned as he noticed that maybe his red and white striped shirt and jean jacket wasn’t the best choice. But he shook his head and tried to not be self-conscious around Daniel.

Daniel was a movie star and probably a multimillionaire. He shouldn’t be comparing their outfit choices.

Daniel spotted him nearly immediately and looked up, flashing Phil another one of his dazzling smiles. On the right of Dan, Phil could see a massive guy stood with his arms folded over his chest. And just the other way, there was a short woman who was sitting in a chair next to him.

Dan stands up, and the man and woman follow suit. Phil suddenly feels intimidated, but forces a smile anyway.

“Hey!” Dan says with a smile again. “This is Joshua.” He points to the large man who just barely raises his hand in a calm gesture. “And this is my manager Marianne.” He points to the woman. “Please don’t be intimidated by them. They wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Joshua grumbles and Phil feels his stomach sink. He definitely can see that Joshua is not one to mess around with. “If you say so,” Phil laughs cautiously.

Joshua chuckles to himself and Phil suddenly feels like he wants to collapse onto the floor and cry. But he won’t, obviously. So he chuckles a little bit―albeit awkwardly, and then extends his hand out in some haphazard form of a greeting. Dan raises an eyebrow and then extends his hand and they make contact for a brief second as Dan’s hand slots a little bit too easily into Phil’s.

His hand is warm, and soft. But it’s also gentle and strong at the same time. Phil doesn’t know why he notices this, but he does. And when they let go, he misses the feeling of it in his hand.

He shakes the thought away.

This was Daniel Howell. He can find him attractive but this little...crush...wasn’t going to do. He needed to shake the thought now.

“Are you ready to get going?” Phil asks Dan.

Dan nods quickly. “Yes! Do you fancy we could stop somewhere quickly for food? I’m quite starved.”

Phil was taken completely back by the natural, posh, London accent Dan spoke in.When he’d read about Dan online, he thought for sure Dan’s accent would be much more Americanized but in a way, his accent was more British than Phil’s. It was quite amazing.

“Oh, of course!” Phil said, his own coffee having gone cold in his hand. “We can go anywhere really. There are a few Gregg’s around and also some Starbucks. I also think there’s a Costa around here too.”

“We can just go to Starbucks.” Dan says with a shrug. “I’m not really too picky. I’m not much of a coffee drinker but I’ll take some tea and maybe a cake.”

“Okay!” Phil’s trying so hard to not be awkward about this. “It’s right down the street.”

Dan smiles at him and then they set off.

Phil watches as Dan says something to Marianne and she remains in her place, unmoving as they leave. Joshua is trailing behind them by a good few feet. But that still makes Phil feel a little bit on edge, knowing his every move was being watched.

They were fine walking on the streets as not many people were around on an early Tuesday morning. But once they stepped foot inside of Starbucks, it was over.

Phil kind of―well, not kind of, he did expect this―knowing he was going to be out in the open with Dan all day but he was prepared for the exact level of madness it was going to be.

Daniel had barely walked up to the counter when people started rushing to be around him. Phil could see people trying to take photos of him and try to hide the fact that they were doing so. He saw people immediately typing on phones and worse yet, he could see people staring at him. People were staring him down like he was an enemy.

Well, maybe to some people he was. He’d seen some of the not-so-nice things people wrote about him when people saw that Dan had followed him. He’d repressed those tweets, but he still remembered them. He could only imagine what was going to happen now.

“We can go somewhere else.” Phil says, his voice cutting through the air.

Dan shook his head and flashed a smile that Phil could see was obviously forced. “No, it’s gonna happen no matter where we go today.”

Phil gave a sad nod and watched as Dan tried to place an order while the barista was clearly having a major fangirl attack behind the till. He felt bad, in a way, for both of them. He felt like he shouldn’t but he did.

Dan eventually had his order placed and he paid quickly with what Phil could see was a black credit card and he immediately felt his face flush. But he moved quickly in line, placed his order for a tall chai tea, paid and moved on.

Joshua moved with Dan so Dan wasn’t in any danger by being in here. Phil was pretty sure Joshua would tackle any person who even dared to get near Dan. But that didn’t stop Phil from worrying.

He shouldn’t be worrying. Dan was probably used to this.

“Daniel!”

Dan’s head shot up and Phil watched as he quickly grabbed his order and then flashed a smile at Phil again and he and Joshua retreated quickly out of the door. Phil grabbed his order next and thanked the barista who was clearly still star struck. And then he left as well.

Dan was standing off the side of the shop, trying to mask himself into the building. Joshua was stood on guard around him as Dan slowly opened his Starbucks order and took a bite of whatever sandwich he was getting.

“Sorry about that.” Dan says once he’s swallowed the bite. “It’s going to happen no matter where we go today. It’s not something I can escape, sadly.”

“I’m sorry.” Phil spits out. “I’m sorry that you go through that.”

Dan shrugs. “Comes with the job, right?”

Phil tries to ignore the clear and present sadness that is laced in Dan’s words and he’s suddenly feeling extremely bad about all that he’s said about Dan to PJ and even Gemma and some other coworkers.

The first place that Phil decides to take them is the London Eye. They hail down a cab and they all get into it as the driver takes them to Westminster. Dan sits besides Phil on the bucket seat while Joshua sits across from them his arms folded.

When Dan caught Phil staring at Joshua, he chuckled. “I promise he’s not actually mean.”

“Has he ever had to tackle somebody?” Phil asks, his voice aa whisper.

Dan nods and takes a sip of his hot drink. “Multiple times.”

Phil sputters and Dan laughs again.

The laugh is almost angelic and Phil really wishes he could hear more of it.

They get to the London Eye and Phil takes them over to buy tickets. When he offers to pay for them both, Dan waves him off and shoves his card it the cashier instead.

“I was the one who asked you to take me around London. The least you can do is let me pay for some of the expenses.”

Phil blushes. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure!” Dan announces quickly as he grabs the three tickets and gives one to Phil.

They’re almost about to get in line when they’re being ushered by workers to go into an advanced line. Phil can almost see the pain in Dan’s face at knowing he was being treated differently due to his status but he didn’t deny the offer.

They made it to the front of the line before anyone else and they were given their own pod to ride in on the eye. Once inside, the doors shut, Dan walked over to the glass windows and looked out.

“I never got to experience London.” He says softly. “Even as a kid. I lived so close to here but my family never brought me or my brother here. I’ve been here for films but I’m normally so booked that I don’t even have time to go look around.”

Phil stands beside him and looks at him. He looks gorgeous in these lights. His brown hair is perfectly styled and curled. His cheeks are a perfect shade of rosey red. His eyes are gleaming but dark, like honey.

For the first time since Phil has seen Dan since meeting for the first time on set, he can see how stunning Dan is. Dan is stunning. He’s gorgeous.

And Phil is totally fucked.

“Is that Big Ben?” Dan breaks through the silence to point at the large tower in the distance.

“Yes it is.” Phil says, letting his clouded mind clear. “But it’s under construction right now so you can’t see any of it.”

“That’s a shame.” Dan says. “I’ve always heard about the bells.”  

“It’s been weird,” Phil says, a small smile on his lips, “no longer hearing the bells in London.”

“How long have you lived in London for?” Dan asks, turning his back to the window now and resting his weight against the rail.

“8 years now.”

“8  years?!” Dan exclaims.

Phil nods. “Been working at the BBC for almost all ten as well.”

‘That’s mad.” Dan laughs. “I haven’t lived in the same house in the past 5 years for more than ten months, let alone 8 years. I’ve been having to move so often because fans keep finding my address.”

Phil furrows his brows and lets the smile he was showing all from his lips. “Your fans find your address?”

Dan nods, his expression solemn. “Nothing of mine is private anymore, Phil.” His voice is sad. “I can guarantee that if you go onto Twitter right now, headlines are already making waves that ‘Daniel Howell was spotted in Starbucks with mysterious man’. They never give up.”

“Is it hard?”

“Is what hard?”

“Is it hard being famous like you are?”

Phil doesn’t know why he asks that, but he does.

Dan shrugs. “In a way yeah.” He says. “It’s an interesting lifestyle but...”

The eye starts to slow down and when Phil looks, he can see they’re already beginning their descent back down.

Nothing more is said. It’s quiet and deafening and when the doors open, a mob of people and paparazzi are waiting. Phil isn’t prepared for the complete onslaught of cameras and phones and flashes to be thrown into his face until suddenly their is a hand resting on his arm, tugging him away.

When he looks down, his heart races as he sees Dan grabbing his jacket and trying to get him out of the mob of people. A car is waiting for them and Joshua immediately runs and opens the door just as soon as Dan jumps in and Phil follows.

Joshua climbs in with them and as they look, there are fans running for the car. Some are even running to try to climb on the car. But they’re driving off and away.

When Phil looks over to Dan beside him, ready to thank him for yanking him out of the mob, he notices that Dan’s eyes are glassy. He’s about to speak up when he sees a tear leak down Dan’s cheek and Phil feels the hurt. He feels that pain, even if it’s for a second. Because this lifestyle is...well it appears to be shit.

And suddenly, Phil gets it.

***

Phil sees all of the tweets and headlines before he goes to bed that night.

“DANIEL HOWELL SEEN WITH MYSTERIOUS MAN AFTER FINISHING FILMING MOVIE IN LONDON.”

“DANIEL HOWELL’S NEW BEAU? WE’VE GOT THE EXCLUSIVE PICTURES.”

“WHO IS THE MAN PICTURED WITH DANIEL HOWELL?”

Phil feels quite sick looking at them.

He also feels quite sick knowing that his day was cut short because of them. The driver had taken them back to the BBC following the awful fan encounter and Dan apologized profusely when he exclaimed he wasn’t feeling well and would like to return back to his hotel.

Phil didn’t argue. He saw the tears on Dan’s face when they stepped out of the car from when he silently wept after what had happened. Phil would never ask him about it.

He also saw the tweets from Dan that followed.

@danielhowell: I’ve said this more than once but please do not follow me. I appreciate you all so much but it’s not okay to follow me around. (1)

@danielhowell: also please do not follow my car once I get into it. It’s not only unsafe for you, but it’s unsafe for me as well. Please know that your safety means the world to me and that’s not okay (2).

to@danielhowell:

@softdaniel: was that the amazingphil guy that you were pictured with in London???

to@softdaniel:

@yasmin__road: it has to be! The photos of the guy lined up with the same guy Dan just followed on Insta! I bet it’s a secret relationship.

to@yasmin__road

@danielhowell: phil is just a friend but I would appreciate it if you left him out of tweets like this. Thank you.

Phil read though more of them and eventually shut his phone off.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #au #famous!dan #moviestar!dan #normal!phil #princesslexi763fics

[spoiledphil-blog]

i can finally see you’re as fucked up as me

desc: Sometimes Phil’s head gets loud 

warnings: depression and anxiety

wordcount: a lousy 2.1k

title: from Sick Of Losing Soulmates by Dodie Clark 

read on ao3

read on wattpad lol

this is super personal so don’t yell at me

The day starts off terribly, Phil wakes up alone the feeling already sinking inside his chest, looking out the window to grey skies he feels weird, It's almost as if he's got butterflies in his stomach but their razor sharp, trying to escape.

It bubbles right underneath the surface of Phil's skin, he aches and bows over, he feels light but at the same time heavy as if the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.

Throwing the covers off the bed feeling the cool February breeze hit his exposed skin, he sighs, Dan must have forgotten to turn on the heating.

He doesn't bother getting dressed the weird sensation in his chest and thousands of thoughts running though his head distract him, walking towards the lounge he can her the television running, Dan's watching the twelve pm news or something.

The lounge is the best room in their house, It's clean and polite, decorated with pictures of him and Dan, their accomplishments, scented candles often burning giving the room a constant caramel smell, it's quite strong but luckily they both like it.

Dan's resting on the couch the TV playing at a low volume, Dan notices Phil come into the room, but doesn't look up, his face is dead straight and his eyes are almost life lifeless, he's still, nothing but his chest only moving up and down every time he takes a breath.

Phil knows what to do, making his way to the kitchen, he turns on the kettle going to the cupboard to get tea bags, unfortunately there's none left.

Phil sighs rubbing his eyes he scratches his chest, where he can feel the tugging and weird sensation he always gets when his head is too loud, he thinks it helps in a away as if he's pushing down the pain.

He ignores it, on days like this when he's riddled with anxiety and self doubt, he usually would curl up on the couch, alone, hiding away from the world watching movies and cuddling close to Dan hoping it will shelter him from being judged and ridiculed by his own head.

But today is different, Dan is having his off day, and Phil can only imagine what he feels. For the two of them both having mental illnesses so alike yet so different it can be hard to understand one another but just knowing what the other person could possibly be going through is enough for them.

They're both getting better, but they both have off days. Usually the two will have a strange system where one of them will feel down and the other will be completely fine and vice versa.

Today the universe is against him, he knows he could just cuddle up beside Dan, he knows full well Dan won't mind one bit. But who's going to make sure Dan eats today? Who's going to assure him everything is fine that he'll he okay soon?

Phil has to be the bigger person, he runs his hands through his hair, groaning at how greasy it is, God he needs a shower.

He walks into the lounge again, Dan is still in the exact same position. Phil walks over and sits down on the ground beside Dan leaning against the couch.

"I'm going out to get tea bags for your tea, I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

Phil doesn't get an answer, he doesn't expect one, Dan just makes a sort of grunting noise and shrugs his shoulders, Phil stands up smiling sympathetically leaning down to kiss Dan's soft curls.

Dan looks up at him weakly, giving Phil a sad smile, muttering "I love you."

Phil smiles back brightly. "I love you too."

Making his way to their bedroom, Phil quickly pulls on the same clothes he wore the day before, deciding he didn't need to look good today.

The local Tesco was only a fifteen minute walk away, he didn't need to go extreme measures for that, albeit he should put on a hat considering the state of his hair.

Grabbing his wallet from the dresser near their front door, he sets off out of the apartment down the stairs and outside.

The cold wind hits him unexpectedly, it's biting his skin, It's far too cold for February, it feels like December again except without the excitement of Christmas and the feeling of home, just an empty feeling in the air.

He notices some rowdy crowd of teenagers smoking at the turnpike gates, probably skipping school.

Phil suddenly feels so out of place, this was a bad idea his body freezes momentarily, he feels exposed the crowd haven't even spared a glance at him but Phil's scared.

He's so suddenly painfully aware he has a spot growing on his cheek, how the bags around his eyes are a little too prominent and how he looks like he hasn't washed his hair in four days, because well he hasn't.

His heart beats fast as he looks to the ground where he's walking taking out his phone opening up Twitter scrolling threw his feed despite the fact nothing is loading.

He stumbles over his own two feet and almost falls flat on the tarmac, he doesn't bother looking back to see the teenagers, probably sniggering at him, he takes a deep breath and god he's about to cry.

He turns the corner and luckily no one's around but some homeless man sitting outside Tesco at the street across from him, now he's very thankful for the cold keeping people locked up in their homes.

He squats against the wall burying his face in his hands, he starts to cry, he doesn't dare let himself he vocal about it, just in case the homeless man goes and tells all his homeless friends at his next can fire about the strange man outside Tesco who started to sob uncontrollably for seemingly no reason.

He picks himself up off the ground his calf's getting sore, he's so unfit, yet another flaw his brain likes to point out to him a lot. He crosses the empty street walking through the automatic doors.

It's not completely empty as he would have liked, there's a young boy stacking shelves and pregnant woman, who only looks to be about seventeen, by the fridge looking at yogurt.

He makes his way to the bathroom first, wanting to look at his reflection, fix himself up before he faces anyone else today.

His eyes are red and puffy, it's obvious he's been crying, he hates it, makes him look weak because you are.

Phil hates his fucking mind, it clearly hates him and wants him to suffer. Splashing water on his face hoping it would fix the problem didn't help and only made it look worse.

He rushes out of the bathroom hoping to just grab the tea bags and avoid the shopkeepers eyes as he buys them.

He walks toward the tea bags and coffee blends, picking out Dan's favourite.

The next shelf is stacked full of chocolate and other confectionery, he resits the urge to grab the bag of marshmallows because he has to carry these things home in his hands and his so worried about what other people will think.

Walking sluggishly to the counter eyes on the tea bags in his hands, he probably looks suspicious but he doesn't care he places the item on the counter and rummages through his bag for a five pound note.

"£5 when you're ready there sir." Phil hands her the note.

He smiles slightly but it's weak. "Are you alight deary?" Her tone reminds him of his grandmother, mostly because she looks like his grandmother, the alive one, obviously.

"Yeah." It's almost a whisper and she doesn't look convinced Phil takes the tea bags quickly scurrying out of the shop.

He feels terrible for leaving like that, the old woman was very kind and Phil just fucking ran out.

Sighing he shoves his hands in his pockets making his way home.

Dan's sitting up when Phil gets back and fortunately he's switched the channel from the news to some anime Phil supposes it's a good sign.

He walks to the kitchen turning the kettle on again grabbing a mug and plopping the tea bag in.

He walks into the lounge handing Dan his tea. Dan takes it, he stays silent and Phil's heart aches. He wants to tell Dan what he's feeling, why he's extra jittery and keeps scratching his chest.

He feels selfish. Dan's having a depressive episode and her Phil is complaining about his silly little anxiety problems that probably aren't even real considering he's too scared to talk to a professional about it.

It's awkward, for Phil anyway Dan's in a world of his own battling his own problems in his head real problems things Phil couldn't understand.

When Dan is like this, he becomes cold Phil never understands it but he's learned to accept it, he knows it not Dan's fault he knows Dan's just going through his own stuff.

It just hurts because Dan feels like a stranger when Phil needs him most.

"Have you eaten?" Phil asks Dan trying not to let his voice shake just in case Dan notices.

"Not yet." It's cold as expected.

"I'm going to order Takeaway tonight alright? Your favourite from the Chinese."

Dan looks at Phil nodding. "Thank you I'm sorry." He says it in one breath like he's going to cry.

Phil wraps his arms around him, kissing the top of his head. He wants to stay like this bury his head in Dan's shoulder and hide.

He can't, he has to answer emails about tour, do the monthly taxes that need to paid. He has to do it alone because Dan is not capable at the moment.

That's not to belittle Dan, he's capable but now it's best if he's left a day to calm himself let him be caught up in his own mind.

Phil pushes his own thoughts down again, blinking to stop tears from falling. He goes to their bedroom again lying down sighing.

Pulling out his laptop he begins to answer emails about TBC dates and venues and merchandise, his head is fried and he feels so stupid with every word he types, these are professional people he has to come across as presentable and as held together as possible.

He's finished answering the majority of the emails. He's had enough he's completely exhausted, he thoughts in his head nagging at him, it's like he's got a rope around his neck he's being choked he can't handle it, his breathing quickens and his hands finds their way to his hair tugging at it as if it's going to help.

He begins to cry this tine letting out heart wrenching sobs, this entire day was too much and he's crashing.

Dan walks into the room looking tired and confused, he immediately walks towards Phil wrapping his arms around him.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're home, you're here, you're safe, I have you." Dan's whispering words of encouragement in Phil's ear and Phil's just sitting there pliant sobbing into his chest.

Phil's sobs get quieter, eventually the two are left just lying there, the only sound in room their breaths and the rain pelting down on the window.

"You should have told me." Dan whispers weakly in Phil's ear.

Phil turns round him, he can feel Dan's breath on his neck. "I'm sorry," He whispers. "I didn't want to bother you."

"You could never bother me by talking about your feelings Phil." Dan pulls back to look at him planting a kiss on Phil's forehead.

"No matter what kind of a day I'm having." He adds, moving to kiss Phil's nose.

"Shall we order Chinese now?"

Dan nods, smiling against Phil's face.

They both get up and Phil reaches for his phone, bracing himself, only to have Dan take it out of his hand.

"I know what you're like let me do it."

Phil smiles, thankful. The Chinese comes about half an hour later. Phil answers the door despite him feeling like he's walking around wearing a 'please judge me' sign.

The two are cuddled on their couch, giggling fondly at each others attempt to eat rice and noodles.

They both have their own problems but they can help one another, they make a pretty good distraction for each other.

It's wonderful, as the low music plays from the speakers of Dan's phone they cuddle close.

Oh, I'm afraid of the things in my brain,

But we can stay here,

And laugh away the fear.

hope you enjoyed again dont yell at me i’m just a youngun with a pass in english and a creative writing course behind me

#phanfiction #*mine #tw anxeity #tw depression #this took way too long #i hope iy works this time

[banashee]

Worth the trouble

Please mind the tags and warnings!

-

 It’s one of those weeks again - Steve is sick. He is shaking from the cold and sweating at the same time, feverish and freezing all at once. As much as he is used to it, he’s miserable and much more clingy than usual.

 The others are there for him to bring food, tea and medicine, but most of all, to keep him company. They happily stay to provide distractions, cuddles and new mugs of tea. The downside of all of this is that sooner or later, someone catches whatever cold or stomach bug Steve managed to get at the time.

 Which leads to the issue at hand, being that Clint Barton ignores any signs of sickness in himself that isn’t a body part about to fall off.  It starts out with a scratchy throat, which is easy enough to ignore and easy to hide. Then, he starts coughing and his voice sounds like he swallowed sandpaper - great. Clint keeps ignoring all the signs and keeps going on like usual - get out of bed, help the younger kids, help with making breakfast and then he disappears to the shooting range to finetune a few of his archery tricks - it’s a routine he likes, especially since no one here yells at him or inflicts pain when he messes up a shot.

 But Clint notices that his shots get messier and messier, and he is more than a little annoyed at himself. Failure is unacceptable, after all.

 He only works himself harder and harder, and by the time he is done for the day, he is shaking and sweating, but he blames it on the hours of shooting and nothing else.

 Clint isn’t very hungry that day, and says as much when he is asked for his vote on lunch - they always get options, and to make things easier for everyone, it’s a vote every single day.

 “You’ve been training all morning. Are you sure?” Phil asks, with a concerned frown creeping onto his face. He is well aware of Clint’s tendencies to skip meals sometimes, both now and as an adult, and it is almost always a sign that something isn’t right.

 “Yeah, I’m just not feeling it right now.” He shrugs, and just to be safe and not draw any suspicions onto himself, he adds,

 “Maybe just a soup or something. You guys do your thing.”

 The others vote on pasta, and the smell is almost enough to make Clint want to leave the room. Too much at once - a wave of nausea creeps up at him and he slams the microwave shut. Clint waits for it to warm up some of that chicken noodle soup they always have in the freezer. It’s always good for days like this, and he figures it’ll keep the worry of Phil and Thor off of his back for now.

 At least for that day, he gets away with it.

 He goes to bed early that night, earlier than usual. Clint can feel Lucky nuzzling into him, licking the skin on his wrist until he gets the pets that he wanted. It feels good, having the dog close. His presence always relaxes Clint, especially when he isn’t feeling well. There is no way that dog cuddles don’t have magical healing powers - he is convinced of it, and with that thought in his mind and Lucky next to him, he drifts off to sleep.

 The next morning, Clint wakes up with a head full of cotton and a throat filled with what feels like glass shards, but he still forces himself to get up and start out the day as usual.

 Lucky for him, Steve is already feeling better and joining the others, which means that a lot of attention goes to him. The fact that Natasha is talking his ear off about something she read in a story book recently also helps - he can focus entirely on her and act like he simply forgot to eat while engaging in her excited ramble. Besides, it’s good so see how much she has flourished in the last few weeks - Clint is genuinely happy to see her like that.

 He manages to go shooting arrows without anyone catching on - or so he thinks.

 By the time he is coughing more and his hands are starting to shake, JARVIS asks him to please stop and go to bed, but he doesn’t listen.

 Phil is in a conversation with Director Fury and doesn’t catch any of it, and Thor is on an important skype call with Eric Selvig, so he catches on late as well.

 But JARVIS knows how to be effective - of course he does. Tony built him, after all, and so the AI calls for him to drag Clint upstairs.

 Tony may be a tiny pre-teen right now, but he sure knows how to get people to do things. Mostly by being annoying - all he needs to hear is that a friend is unwell and none of the adults can be reached, if he could please go down there and help.

 He does so without a question.

 “Jarvis said you’re sick and you need to go to bed.” he informs the archer as he walks onto the range, and Clint turns to him, sneezes and let’s the arrow fly on accident - it pierces into the wall next to his target and he scowls at it.

 “I’m fine.” he says with a sniffle, and gets back into position. His head is throbbing, but he ignores it to the best of his ability.

 Going to bed would be the smart thing to do - but years of being told to stop being fucking lazy and get off of his ass when all he wanted to do was crawl back to bed and sleep off a flu, keep him rooted to the spot now.

 The swordsman and Trickshot sure had gotten into his brain, and the thought of their anger, especially once drunk, is enough to force himself to keep going. It is a long standing habit by now.

 But Tony isn’t having any of it - he, too, can be fiercely protective of the other kids. He is trying to pry Clint away from the gym and upstairs to the bedroom.

 “Come on! I know you caught whatever Steve had earlier - you were near him the whole time and all you wanted yesterday was soup.” Damn it if he didn’t pay attention to what happens around him.

 “I’m not done here. Leave me alone.” it comes out a lot more grumpy than intended, but Clint is almost running on auto-pilot by now, lining up his arrows and trying desperately to hit the center.

 When he is about to grab another one, Tony scoffs and tries to pull him away by grabbing his arm - Clint doesn’t budge. He might not be taller or older by a lot, but damn if the years of archery haven’t paid off already. He might not look it, but he is damn strong for his size and age.

 Tony seems to come to the same conclusion, because he sighs dramatically and then says,

 “You may be stronger, but I’m much more annoying. Try me, bitch.”

 And with that, Tony hops on the older boy’s back, clinging like a monkey and repeatedly poking his cheek with one finger. While he does that, he keeps chanting his name over and over again.

 “Clint. Clint. Clint. Come on, go upstairs, I can do this all day long. Clint. Clint.”

 The archer sighs, heavily. Stopping his training doesn’t suit him at all, but to be fair, he really doesn’t feel great. There is an annoying scratch in his throat that gets stronger and stronger and his head feels like it is about to explode.

 But shooting is what he always does. Taking a break isn’t like him - until now, he’s never been allowed to.

 Finally defeated, Clint goes to collect his arrows. He takes a little longer than usual to pack his quiver, but once that is done, he makes his way to the elevator. Tony doesn’t give up and just stays where he is, like a stuck record. He keeps poking Clint and intends to do so until he is in a bed to sleep off the sickness.

 This is how the two of them arrive upstairs - Clint shuffling and visibly pale, with a scowl on his face, bow in one hand and his quiver in the other and Tony still hanging onto him.

 In the kitchen, Phil is having a quick coffee with Director Fury. He spent quite some time telling him how everyone is doing, how the age regression affects the Avengers. They have been discussing how possible cures might be attainable - all of those things.

 Of course it is in this exact moment that Clint is walking past the doorway, tired and  annoyed at this point and with Tony still clinging onto him while poking him in the cheek with one finger.

 “Clint. Clint. Clint…” the two of them disappear around a corner.

 “Clint… Clint… Ew! Stop biting me!”

 “Then stop poking my face!”

 Something soft hits the floor - probably an annoying 12-year old Tony. After that, the bickering fades away, too quietly to make out from the kitchen.

 Fury turns, eyebrows raised and staring at Phil with one unimpressed eye.

 “I can’t see how these two are any different than usual. Nothing. Nada.”

 Phil’s expression doesn’t change - he has been used to this for a long time.

 When Fury has left the tower again just a few minutes later, he does get up to make his way to the shared guest suite. He wants to check up on the boys, because Clint has been acting weird in the past few days - more so than he usually does.

 “Sir, I should inform you that Clint is unwell. He was training and refused to stop despite getting worse. Neither you or Thor were available at the time, so I’m afraid I had to call the nearest person to get him to move…”

 Oh. Now this makes a lot more sense. Phil curses silently, then adds,

 “Thank you, Jarvis.” and leaves the kitchen.

 He is surprised to find the suite in silence - Steve went for a nap after breakfast and a movie, and as far as he knows, Bruce is painting with Nat. A few moments later though, Tony steps out of one of the rooms.

 “Uhh, Phil?”

 “Hey. Jarvis told me. How is he?”

 “Annoyed because I dragged him up here. But I don’t think he’s okay, he’s warm and fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed… I was gonna go tell you.” Tony explains, and a shadow of worry creepy across his face. He doesn’t like it when the people around him aren’t themselves, and this is certainly one of those cases.

 “Thank you, Tony. I appreciate your help.” He shoots him a smile and accepts the half-hug from Tony, gently ruffling his hair in the process. He is beyond happy that he seems to trust and know he can safely seek out affection - god knows, he needs it. All of those kids need it.

 “How are you doing? If Clint is getting sick, some of you might, too. You were all close to each other in the last few days.”

 “I’m okay. Not feeling sick or anything.”

 “Alright, that’s good. Let us know if that changes, okay?”

 “Okay.” and with that, Tony let’s go of him and walks off to find Bruce and Nat.

 When Phil enters Clint’s room, he is careful not to spook the boy, but as it turns out, he is fast asleep. He looks pale and sweaty, and he is still wearing his workout clothes. His bow and arrow stand in a close corner, as if he’d only managed to drop them there before he made it into bed. It looks like he fell asleep pretty much instantly. Even when Phil steps around him, to get to the bathroom for medicine and a glass of water, he doesn’t stir. This is unusual - normally, Clint registers when someone comes near him, even when - or rather, especially when - he is asleep.

 It doesn’t help Phil’s worry about him at all. He places both the glass of water and the pills on the nightstand, then he leaves the room.

 “Jarvis, please let me know when he wakes up or if anything else is needed.” Phil requests quietly upon leaving and the AI reassures him that he will.

 By the time Clint wakes up again, he feels like he got run over by a train. He is absolutely miserable and wouldn’t be able to get out of bed even if he wanted to. All he wants to do is burrow back into the pillows, but then a panicked thought jolts through him like an electric shock.

 ‘You’ll get in trouble - Trickshot is gonna be pissed!’ his sickness clouded brain keeps telling him, and it takes Clint longer than it should to realize that Trickshot isn’t here - neither he, or Swordsman or Barney or Carson or anyone else is here, he is safe and he is allowed to sleep. He is allowed to be sick and rest. He doesn’t have to work through it.

 Clint’s heart is still hammering in his chest, and part of him is terrified. What if it changed? Who knows how long he slept for, maybe the rule has been changed in the meantime?

 Oh god, what if they’re mad at him?

 The thoughts keep going and going, and his breathing is shallow, but at the same time, way too fast. It hurts. His head feels a lot worse than before, too. Clint is faintly aware that he is starting to slip into a full blown panic. He presses both of his hands, shaking and slick with cold sweat,  over his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet.

 Don’t alert anyone. Don’t let them see, don’t let them hear - just hide and hope they’ll leave him alone.

 He wouldn’t be able to defend himself right now if he had to.

 Only when it is way too late to do anything - not that he could - Clint realizes that the door to his room has opened. His breathing speeds up even more, making his lungs hurt and the pressure in his head increases.

 Everything hurts, he is too weak and too panicked to do anything, and all of this terrifies him even more.

 It takes him a while to notice that someone is talking to him. Phil, he realizes and somehow, he connects that with “calm” and “safe”, contrary to what the other, messy part of his brain is trying to make him believe.

 Phil doesn’t touch him, which is good, but he keeps talking to him, trying to get him to even out his breathing. It takes a while, but it works out eventually.

 Clint still doesn’t look at him - he is shivering with cold while the back of his shirt sticks to him uncomfortably and his head feels like it’s about to explode. The headache has only gotten worse while he was freaking out and now he is attempting to hold back tears. It’s too much, but the calm and even voice next to him helps.

 “You’re safe, everything is okay. No one is going to hurt you. You’re safe…”

 Finally, the words register with him, but what comes out of his mouth is,

 “I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time.”

 A beat of silence follows - just for a few seconds, just long enough for Phil to push away the urge to go back in time to murder a few people. He only talks when he is sure that there is no trace of anger in his voice - however little it might be, he knows that the boy in front of him will pick up on it. Doesn’t matter that it isn’t directed at him - he will take it that way and slide into another panic. It’s the last thing he needs right now.

 “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” He ignores the fact that Clint was hiding how sick he is and pushing through like always. Overcoming this is something that took years of support and therapy even as an adult - there is no reason to expect this from a traumatized teenager. Phil knows his story, after all - it only helps him approach the situation now.

 He isn’t sure if his words stick, but Clint nods. His breathing calms down a bit, but he doesn’t move, keeping his eyes cast downwards on the sheets.

 “There is water and medicine on the table, you should take it.” Phil tells him, and is glad that he does. Small favors.

 “Can I do anything else for you?” he asks then, and Clint just shakes his he had before burrowing back into the blankets. All he wants is to be left alone.

 Over the course of the next few days, Clint is getting worse. He doesn’t let anyone near him, let alone touch him, not even the other kids. This, of all things, probably worries them the most.

 The fact that he spent the first days ignoring his state only made things worse now. Maybe it wouldn’t have turned this bad if Clint had rested instead of pushing through training and everyday tasks as always, but as it is now, his flu turns out to be a bad boost of pneumonia.

 Breathing is hard and painful, and the only times that Clint is awake, he spends in the bathroom or vomiting. He barely manages a shower on his own - by all means, he is shaky enough on his legs that he should have needed help to keep standing, but due to various personal issues, it is not an option for him.

 As a compromise, he leaves the door half open, so that someone could come in quickly in case of an accident. Even that seems to be a lot more than he is willing to do, but he agrees nonetheless - it’s easier than arguing.

 The first few times he manages on his own, stumbling out of the bathroom and back to bed as soon as he is done. But one day, he gets dizzy while getting dressed. He moved too quickly, trying to get his clothes back on as quickly as possible to get back to bed, but then he suddenly blacks out with the long sleeve shirt halfway over his head.

 Thor is pacing the bedroom while he waits for Clint to be done. He is about to call out, asking if everything is okay, but right when he opens his mouth to ask, the sound of a body hitting the floor comes from the other room. It makes him curse out loud and sprint over to help, but Clint is unconscious and sprawled on the tiles.  

 Carefully, Thor steps closer - he knows that Jarvis is calling for medical help and for Phil, but he barely registers it.

 It looks like Clint hit his head when he passed out, and he starts checking all the vitals and then makes sure to bring him into the recovery position.

 Thor is always careful and gentle with other people, especially kids. Now, he takes even greater care, knowing that Clint doesn’t want to be touched, but there is no way to help him otherwise.

 Things get hectic after that - Phil comes running only moments after the call for help, and soon after that, they have Clint down in medical.

 The other kids are still upstairs, worried because they don’t know what is going on, only that their friend is hurt and needs help.

 Natasha especially takes it hard. She usually spends a lot of time around Clint, and suddenly everything changed again. All she knows is that he is unwell and won’t let anyone near him, and now there is some kind of emergency.

 The little girl is sniffling silently in a corner, eyes locked onto the door as if it held any answers. It takes several attempts to talk to her, and when Bruce sits down next to her, offering his hand to hold, she accepts it and scoots closer in an attempt to find comfort.

 It doesn’t take long for Tony and Steve to join them, and together they wait on any answers. Unlike usual, they don’t talk very much at all.

 Phil comes back to them after a while, apologizing for leaving them alone so suddenly. He looks tense and worried, despite his best attempts to hide it. The kids know - they feel the same.

 It saddens him to see them this upset, and he does his best to explain the situation so they know enough but not too much. They deserve to know what is going on, but he doesn’t want to scare them any further. It is a slippery slope, but he is used to delivering information in this kind of way.

 Meanwhile, a few storeys down in medical, the doctors get Clint’s temperature and symptoms under control as well as they can, but they are concerned. Along with the pneumonia and head injury from his fall, which luckily, isn’t as bad as it could have been, they have discovered something else.

 They have found that Clint has a number of both fresh and healing cuts on all arms and legs, easily hidden by clothing. Since there were no accidents or incidents that they know of, and due to the easily hidden locations, they are pretty certain that they are caused by self-harm. The even length and depth is another indicator.

 They tell this to Thor, who is very much concerned. He knows about those issues from when he read his teammates file, back when the team first got together - the doctors know about it as well, but neither of them knew it had started this early.

 “This is an issue we need to address once Clint is awake. He will not react well if any action was to be taken now. He needs to know, and he needs a choice. Otherwise, he will lose what little trust he has in us.” Thor is very certain of this, and he keeps repeating his point to every single person until the point has come across.

 Clint is out cold in the hospital bed, and Thor settles into one of the cheap plastic chairs that look comically small under him. There is nothing funny about it now.

 After a little while, Clint seems to wake up. He is groggy and confused, especially when his eyes dart around the unfamiliar room in a panic. But then his eyes settle on Thor sitting next to the bed and tries to ask what is going on, but all he can manage is a coughing fit.

 “Easy, my friend, you are safe. Here, this might help.” Thor hands him a cup of water, and it helps him enough to not hack up a lung.

 “Thanks. What happened?” His voice is barely there, but the question seems to be obvious enough.

 “You fell in the bathroom and hit your head. We had to bring you down to see the healers, and they say you will need to stay and recover here for a bit. How are you feeling?”

 “Tired.” It’s a lot more than that, but it’s true nonetheless. Without thinking about it, Clint scratches with one hand under the bandage of his right arm.

 “Why is my arm bandaged?” he asks then, clearly suspicious.

 Choosing his next words carefully, Thor asks,

 “They’re not… New injuries. Do you want to talk about this?”

 This is like a cold shower, no matter how gentle the approach - shit. Clint pales visibly and shakes his head no. He never intended for anyone to find out. Especially not like this.

 “Can you stay?” he asks instead, hating how desperate he sounds.

 “Of course. I will keep watch and when you wake up, either myself or Phil will be with you.”

 That sounds good enough to him. At least, with either of those two around, Clint knows nothing will happen to him here. And going to sleep sounds a lot better than dealing with all of those emotions, anyway.

 That same night, Phil trades places with Thor and spends the next hours in the same, uncomfortable chair next to the bed. He has been filled in on all the updates from both Thor and the doctors, and he is just as concerned.

 Phil knows about the unhealthy ways that Clint tends to cope in sometimes - some more than others. But he’d never told anyone, which coping method had started when. Phil had never asked, out of respect for his privacy and the right to disclose those things in his own time, should he ever wish to do so.

 All he knows is that his friend needs help, and he isn’t sure if or when he will accept it in this situation.

 A few storeys further up, the living room couch has been extended into a large bed where currently, all four of the other kids are curled up with each other. No one is asleep, and Thor is currently in the kitchen to prepare another thermos of tea for them. Being alone in the room, it gives him time to pace a bit without having to worry it’ll unsettle the kids.

 All they know is that Clint is sick, hit his head in the bathroom and is now in the hospital to recover from those things. They have no idea about the self-harm issue, and by the gods, he wants to keep it that way. Phil and he have agreed that it would scare and worry the children endlessly, as well as crossing Clint’s boundaries. They don’t want to do either of those things.

 Staring at the smoking kettle, watching the small lights blink until the water has reached the right temperature, his thoughts drift off for a little while. Only when the kettle suddenly plays an annyong, catchy melody (because that’s just Tony’s sense of humor, rigging the water kettle so it plays “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” whenever it is done) Thor blinks a few times and comes back to reality. Tea. Kids. Right.

 He wipes one sleeve over his face, hoping the living room will be dark enough to hide the worry and sadness in his face.

 Back in the other room, Natasha clings to Tony like a small monkey, arms and legs wrapped around him and holding on as tightly as she can. She’s been incredibly silent in the last few days, and it’s heartbreaking to see her retreat back into her shell when she only just really came out of it.

 Tony is absentmindedly combing through her hair with one hand and returning Bruce’s grip around his other hand. The younger boy is curled up behind him, face pressed into his back and holding on just as tightly. Steve is gripping the fabric of Tony’s sleeve from where he is curled up behind Nat.

 Neither of them wants to be alone right now, and luckily, despite all odds, none of them is feeling sick as of yet. Small favors.

 Thor enters the room silently, placing the thermos next to the couch on the floor. Then he sits down, waiting for Bruce to settle into him and then puts another blanket over him and his own legs.

 The kids drift off to sleep, eventually, but Thor stays awake, watching over them. He keeps his phone close - just in case anything changes down in medical.

 Phil is on his 12th cup of gross vending machine coffee when Clint stirs awake in the hospital bed. Once again, he is confused and disoriented, but he seems to be catching on this time.

 “Hey. How are you?” Phil asks him silently, and Clint takes a while to answer. He feels like his head is filled with cotton and his lungs definitely don’t feel great, but at least he isn’t nauseous right now.

 “Don’t know. Tired.” he replies truthfully.

 “Is there anything I could do to make this easier for you? Bring a book or a movie or something?” Phil asks while filling the water cup. He is desperate to do something, no matter what it is.

 “Can’t really focus. Bright lights aren’t great, too…” Truth be told, Clint would love some entertainment. But only being able to read half a page or watch 3 minutes on the TV until it gets too much, would only frustrate him more.

 “How about a book, then? I could read it to you, so you can just listen.”

 Admittedly, this takes Clint completely off-guard. He can’t think back on a time anyone would have ever read something to him - not even his parents, although Mom might have done it a few times. He can’t remember.

 After the car crash, no one would bother - he’d been too old to be read to at that point, he’d figured, and never asked. Being 14 now, even less so. Just the thought of the roaring laughter that would get him from most people is enough to make him squirm inwardly.

 But now, he is too tired and in too much pain to read himself, and Phil is offering to help out. If that offer came from anyone else, besides Thor, he’d have thought this to be a trap.

 Clint knows better now, but he can’t help but ask,

 “You would?” He hates how small he sounds, but as it is, it is hard enough to keep it together. Ironically, after everything he’s survived so far - his father, the orphanage, several foster families, Trickshot and Swordsman - it is kindness that really gets to him.

 He can go through hell and keep his walls up for a long time when no one gives a shit. But a tiny flicker of care, just a bit of kindness - he doesn’t know what to do with it, and it makes everything else harder, because what if life isn’t supposed to go like that, after all?

 “Yes, of course. Is there anything specific you would like?” Phil asks him, and it’s all he can do to shake his head in an attempt not to cry.

 Luckily, he falls asleep soon after that.

 Phil trades places with Thor quite a few times, both of them taking turns in sitting with Clint and taking care of the younger kids, but the next time Phil returns to medical, he does so with “Men at arms” by Terry Prtachett in his hand. Not only is it an amazing book that Phil himself has read many, many times, he also happens to know that it is one of adult-Clint’s favourites. Chances are, he’ll enjoy it now. If nothing else, the book is funny, and that might be enough to make this time a little bit better.

 He is right. Every now and then, the story makes Clint smile as he listens with his eyes half closed or slowly dozing off. Some parts, especially when he is more awake, make him laugh out loud. One part in particular, it results in a coughing fit for Clint, who keeps laughing even as he is hacking up a lung and while Phil is apologizing profusely while offering him water. There is a slight sparkle in the boy’s eyes though, and it tells Phil very clearly that he did something right.

 That same night though, a particularly nasty nightmare sends Clint into a full blown panic. He wakes up tangled in his sheets and screaming,

 “Barney, no! Help me! NO!”

 Phil is at his side in an instant. He still doesn’t touch - he wasn’t asked or given permission to - but he remains close, offering any kind of support that Clint wants or needs. For now, it’s mostly words.

 “Clint! You’re safe, no one will hurt you. Please keep breathing - you are safe…”

 It takes a while for him to calm down, but eventually, he remains still in bed, safe for the constant tremors running through his entire body. Phil keeps talking to him the entire time, trying to reassure him that he really is safe. At some point, Clint starts scratching under the edge of his gauze wrapped wrist and he keeps doing so more and more violently.

 “Clint. Hey, please stop, you’re hurting yourself.” He keeps going until droplets of blood start staining his left hand.

 “Clint. Stop. Please” Something in his voice must be getting through to him, because Clint actually stops and looks up at him. His eyes are huge, terrified and filled with tears.

 “It’s the only way to make them stop. I feel them all the time.”

 This is the first time he’s ever told someone this - not that anyone would have asked. But Phil is here and Phil is      safe    , and this is why he opens up in the first place.

 “It’s the only way to take back control  - I can’t -” breathing gets harder now, but he manages - barely. Phil is still by his side.

 “You’re safe… I promise, you are safe. I’m here for you. Whatever it is you need - I’m here for you.”

 The seconds are ticking away while nothing happens, until suddenly, Phil finds himself with an armful of sobbing teenager. Instinctively, he holds him close and waits for the storm to pass. This has been long, long overdue, but the fact that Clint feels safe enough to finally reach out, even in an extreme emotional situation like that, is a good sign.

 They don’t talk very much in the following hours or days, but Phil spends just as much time with him, finishing the book and bringing a new one after that - “Lords and Ladies.”.

 It makes Clint smile a few times, and he allows himself to lean a little bit into Phil while he reads - now that the ice is broken, he seeks out casual touch whenever possible. It’s something he’s been craving for years, but never really had. When Phil tells him that there are resources  available to help him with his self harm issues and to deal with his trauma, he simply nods and says,

 “I’ll think about it.” because it is the truth and he isn’t sure what else to say - it’s too much to put into words just now, but he hugs Phil again and thinks, with such a support system, tackling this might actually be doable.

     A few days later, Clint can finally leave medical and get back home. It literally makes him stop in his tracks for a moment, when he realizes that he thinks that word in the first place - home.

 That is exactly what the tower and most of all the people in it mean to him though. As strange as that feeling may be, he thinks he could get used to it.

 When he arrives home, everyone else is already waiting with breakfast on the table.

 Naturally, Natasha is the first to run towards and hug him. She barely reaches up to the middle of his torso, but she hugs his waist and buries her face in the fabric of his soft shirt.

 “Hey there - oof!” The impact isn’t very soft, but it makes him chuckle - god, he’s missed this. Natasha clings to him and he holds onto her for a little while longer. It feels good to be back. Lucky is jumping up on him in excitement - clearly, the dog missed him just as much, and Clint does his best to greet everyone at once appropriately.

 One by one, the other kids join in on the hug or wait for a free space to greet him back and it’s incredibly sweet. Clint doesn’t know what to say or do, especially since they don’t know about the details that came to light in the past few days and he would like to keep it that way.

 Besides, he’s doing okay at the moment and everyone else seems to be happy, too. No need to ruin the mood.

 After the first wave of greetings has died down a little, Clint surprises himself and everyone else as well. For the first time since the age-regression, he doesn’t hesitate in getting closer to anyone.

 Sure, he’s been okay with being close to the other kids, and he’d hugged Phil that one time when he’d freaked out in the hospital and even after that, once he truly knew he could. But now he leaps at Thor and slings both arms tightly around his waist.

 “Thank you.” he mumbles into the soft fabric of his shirt, knowing he’ll hear it.

 Thor hugs him back, gentle as always, but it’s warm and reassuring and just what Clint needs after, well, everything.

 “Anytime.” comes the quiet reply, and Clint squeezes just a little bit harder. He knows now, just how much the people around him care, kids and adults alike.

 He knows now, just how much both Thor and Phil worry about them all the time. How much they’re willing to do and give to know them happy and safe and it means the world to him.

 Clint never knew what that was like until recently, and as much as he appreciates, and yes - loves them for it - he doesn’t know how to put all of it into words.

 But he hopes that “Thank you” is enough, so he tries to put the rest of it into the hug. When he pulls away after a while, he is surprised to see that the Thunder God seems to have teared up, but he is smiling.

 It tugs at something in him, and he can’t help but smile back.

 “I am glad to see you well and back here. Come on, both of you, let us feast!”

 The table is so full of food and drinks, Clint is pretty sure they had to play tetris to fit everything.

 Once everyone is in their seats, it is just like any other morning. And yet, it is better - lighter. Safe and secure without a question.

 If a family like this is the price, opening up might be worth the trouble.

                            *+~

51 - Help me

#banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #Of chosen families and utter chaos #hurt/comfort #angst #tw self harm #tw mental health issues #65 Random Prompts

[jewelphan]

nine fucking lollipops

Summary: Phil hates sweets, but for some reason he keeps finding himself at the same exact candy shop. And it’s not because of the boy that works there. Definitely not. 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

The first time it happened, it was Chris’ fault:

Treading through the streets of London right after it had rained was not what Phil wanted to do with his morning. He wanted to be at home, in his lounge, reading some lame tweets or looking at meaningless Tumblr posts. He did not want to be headed to some stupid candy shop at ten in the morning on a Saturday.

He blames this entire endeavour on Chris; mostly because he was the one who asked Phil to go buy him candy in the first place, but also because it’s somehow always Chris’ fault. He wouldn’t even tell Phil why he wanted exactly nine fucking lollipops. The only explanation Chris had given was because he “needed them” and that he was “too busy” to get them himself. So, Phil, being the good friend he was had given in to Chris’ incessant begging and offered to go get the candy for him.

So here he was, on a Saturday morning right after a downpour, standing in front of a quaint little candy shop that was too far a walk for his liking.

Phil didn’t even like candy. In fact, he hated everything about it. He especially hated the really sweet kinds of candy, like gummies, or caramel, or any hard-candies, or practically anything that wasn’t milk chocolate. Milk chocolate was the only exception.

He took a deep breath and opened the door to the shop, a small ‘ding’ sounding above him as he pushed the door open. The sound had already started to piss him off, but what was even worse than the bell was the sickeningly sweet smell of sugar that filled his nose. He already had a burning hate for the sweets themselves, but the smell. It’s worse than the taste.

Phil tried his best to take as few breaths as possible so he didn’t have to smell anything more than he absolutely had to. His eyes wandered around the shop, quickly spotting the lollipops. He walked over to them and grabbed nine of them, being sure to get the worst flavor he could find. He may be doing this for Chris, but he sure as hell isn’t gonna do a good job of it.

Once he had the lollipops in his hand, he shuffled his way over to the counter and grunted in annoyance when he noticed that no one was there.

“Hello?” He called.

“Just a moment,” a voice called back after a moment of silence.

Phil grumbled and tapped his fingers against the counter a few times, clearly showing his irritation; not that anyone was there to notice. Phil took this moment to let his eyes wander across the different displays of fudge beneath the glass counter. He didn’t know how people could actually enjoy the chocolate gooeyness. Fudge was by far one of the sweetest candies (can fudge even be classified as a candy?) therefore one of the worst. Fudge was one of the very reasons Phil’s hate for sweets existed.

“Ah- sorry about that.”

Phil rolled his eyes, “I don’t ask for much in life, okay? So some decent service wou-” His words got stuck in his throat as he looked up at the person in front of him. He was gorgeous and cute. How is that even possible? There were gorgeous people and then there were cute people, no one categorized as both. At least not until now.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that there was stuff in the backroom that needed organized and-”

“No,” Phil cut off, “it’s alright, I’m just being a bit of a jerk.”

The boy chuckled, “I don’t think jerks normally admit that they’re being assholes.”

“Then I’m being a bit of an asshole,” Phil argued, yet a smile was gracing his lips.

“Nope,” the boy (Dan according to the nametag) said, “assholes don’t normally admit to being jerks.”

“Then I’m a jerkhole?” Phil said, mentally slapping himself the minute the words left his lips.

Dan laughed- genuinely laughed as if Phil had just told him the most hilarious joke (it was more humiliating if anything), “I think you’re just someone who has had a bad day.”

“Well you’re not wrong,” Phil agreed, “but that doesn’t give me an excuse to be rude.”

“I suppose not,” Dan said while he grabbed the lollipops and began scanning them, “so what happened?”

“My dumbass of a friend thought it was a good idea to call me at nine in the morning to ask for some lollipops. Fucking lollipops. Nine at that, which I’m not sure why, so don’t ask. But that’s besides the point. The point is he woke me up to ask for some candy. I hate candy to begin with- no offense- but it’s just- argh… friends,” Phil rambled, setting down some money on the counter in the process, “sorry, I’m ranting.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I asked,” Dan said, seeming intrigued by the story, “I was wondering why you picked the worst literal flavor of lollipops in the entire store, but now I know.” He added as he put said lollipops into a small bag and handed it to Phil.

“Yeah,” Phil sighed, grabbing the bag from Dan, “well, thanks for the candy, I guess.”

“No problem.”

~

The second time it happened, it was Phil’s fault:

Phil didn’t mean to end up back at the candy shop so soon. But he couldn’t get the brown-eyed-boy out of his mind. Of course, that wasn’t why he came back. The only reason he came back was because he was craving some chocolate. It had nothing to do with Dan. Obviously.

That was what he kept telling himself as he stood awkwardly in front of the door of the shop. If only he could somehow get himself to believe what he was saying, all would be well. But he couldn’t trick his mind into believing something that was obviously not true. The truth was that he was pining for Dan. Hard. Phil couldn’t deny that, no matter how hard he tried.

Oh well.

Phil opened the door of the shop and heard the little bell ding above him. The sound didn’t bother him as much as it had the last time, nor did the smell. There was almost something familiar about it.

“I thought you didn’t like candy,” was the first thing Dan said to him, “or does your friend need more lollipops?” That was the second.

Phil rolled his eyes, “I’m here to get myself some chocolate, thank you very much,” he said, “who knew the worker’s here could be so judgemental,” he added playfully.

Dan put his hands up in surrender, “I’m just wondering why you’re back so soon. Seriously, it’s been a day. What person who doesn’t like candy frequents a candy shop?”

“You’re right, you caught me. I’m only here to steal some things,” Phil muttered sarcastically.

“Some things? You’re very specific,” Dan said, “what could you possibly steal from a candy shop?” Your heart.

“Seriously, where the hell is your chocolate?” Phil asked suddenly, changing the subject. He had been searching ever since he got into the shop and he had been unsuccessful in finding any. The shop wasn’t even that big. It couldn’t have been any bigger than his lounge.

“It’s right behind you,” Dan laughed.

“How is that fair?” Phil groaned, “I already looked there.”

“Obviously not hard enough,” Dan said sarcastically.

Phil picked up a bar of chocolate from behind him and turned back to the counter. Phil did a double take when he saw Dan. He was leaning against the counter, his chin resting against his hands and his eyes staring at Phil.

“Find everything you were looking for?” Dan asked, a smug smile on his face.

“Yes,” Phil threw the candy bar at Dan, “no thanks to you.”

“That was rude.”

“I’m a rude person, remember?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dan stuck his tongue out at Phil.

“What are you, five?” Phil asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m two, actually,” Dan stated, tossing the candy bar back at Phil once he scanned it, “a two year old that doesn’t know your name.”

“Subtle,” Phil smiled.

“I know, aren’t you proud?” Dan asked.

“The proudest,” Phil grumbled, “I’m Phil, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Phil.”

Phil smiled, “you too, Dan.” And despite only just formally meeting, Phil felt like he had known Dan his entire life. And he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

“See you around,” Dan said.

Phil waved in return and headed out the door. It wasn’t until he got home did he notice the number messily written on the wrapper of the chocolate bar.

~

The third time it happened, it was Dan’s fault:

A week later, Phil woke up to a new text from Dan (by wake up he means it was noon). They had been texting practically non-stop since Dan had given him his number. However, Phil had been feeling slightly neglected because he hadn’t seen Dan since that day, but judging by the text Dan had just sent Phil, that was about to change.

Dan: I’m bored @ work, come hang out with me?? pls? I’ll give u a free chocolate bar

Phil chuckled at the message. Dan sounded so desperate and bored that there was no possible way that he was going to ignore him. Though it’s not like he could judge Dan for the way he sounded because Phil was also just as desperate to see him.

Phil: I’ll be over in about an hour

Dan: thank god

Phil didn’t remember doing much after that besides getting ready and heading out the door of his apartment. Only about a half hour had passed by the time Phil was at the candy shop. He may have gotten overly excited to see Dan and rushed a lot faster than he predicted. He didn’t even know he could get to the candy shop that fast.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that he was standing at the door again. And even though it was only the third time he had stood at the front of the shop, he felt like it was the millionth. When he opened the door, he wasn’t repulsed by either the bell or the smell. In fact, he welcomed them with open arms. He was content. The shop was familiar and so was the person inside.

“Took you long enough,” Dan said sarcastically, “did you run here?”

“No,” Phil said, though his breath was coming out in short pants, “I just overestimated how long it would take to get here.”

“Clearly,” Dan commented.

“Well now that I’m here, what do you want to do?” Phil asked, “I don’t know how I can really entertain you.”

“I thought we’d just talk,” Dan said, “and if nothing else, at least you’re something pretty to look at.”

“Thanks,” Phil could feel blush rising to his cheeks, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Of course I’m not,” Dan said boastfully.

Phil shook his head disapprovingly, “you’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe so, but you love me.”

Phil shrugged, “obviously.”

-

-

-

-

-

Phil never did find out what Chris wanted with those lollipops.

a/n: I needed a break from writing Caught Up in a Dream... so I wrote a cute and fluffy one shot about a candy shop instead,, this is really kind of choppy but I wasn’t really aiming for quality, just for fun

#phanfiction #phanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #phan

[jilliancares]

A Royal Pain: Chapter 7

Word Count: 4.3k

link to masterlist ; next chapter

ao3 or wattpad!

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Dan stood there, his hands uncomfortably sweaty, his legs shaking slightly underneath him, before he told himself to get a grip. If he decided to become paranoid after an incident like this then he was just as bad as his father. There were probably hundreds of that exact bottle of honey-oil in every bedroom of the castle. And, seeing as the stairwell was so close to the kitchen, wouldn't it make more sense for the oil to be cooking oil—assuming that the slippery step was on purpose? The fact that it wasn't cooking oil made it more likely to have been an accident.

Gaining surety with the more thought he put into it, Dan turned around and informed a random kitchen servant of the mess. Assured that it would be cleaned and no one else would have the chance of slipping on it, he made his way back up the stairs, careful to step over the slick one, and returned to his room.

"Prince Daniel," Bentley said, bowing his head slightly as Dan approached. He nodded in response, before remembering what his father had said—

"I've already alerted your guards to be extra wary from now on."

The thought of them being suspicious of Phil, of even suspecting him of something so horrendous, made Dan feel sick. He didn't want Phil being silently judged like that, distrusted and suspected of wrongdoing. He had to do something to remedy it.

"About what my father said," Dan started, his hand resting on the doorknob. "There's no reason to be wary of Phil. I trust him more than anybody, and I'll have your heads if you start trying to pat him down whenever he so much as tries to enter my room." There was a brief pause, during which neither Alfonzo nor Bentley said anything. "Okay?"

"In all due respect, Prince," Alfonzo began, and Dan groaned internally. Here came the speech, the constant reminder that his father's orders outweighed his. "We have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh," Dan said quietly. And because he couldn't help himself, because he couldn't quite silence that niggling worry in the back of his mind, he asked, "Has Phil left?"

"I believe he's still in there waiting for you, Your Highness," Bentley answered. Dan nodded slowly, unable to quell his relief.

Without bothering to answer, Dan stepped into his room and leaned against the door. Phil definitely couldn't have done it, seeing as he hadn't left the room, though Dan felt slightly ashamed of himself for not being able to trust in him completely, even without proof.

He pressed his ear against the door, hearing a quiet murmur on the other side.

"Is it just me or is the Prince acting a little... strange?"

"Bentley," Alfonzo admonished quietly, and they both fell silent.

Dan sighed and ventured further into his rooms, carefully peering into his own bedroom. Phil was still situated on his bed, though now he was lounging comfortably against the pillows, one of Dan's novels propped open against his knee. As Dan watched, Phil flicked the page, inhaling deeply as he slouched a bit further on the pillows.

"Phil," Dan said quietly, and Phil jerked, his head snapping up to look at Dan.

"You scared me," he said with a soft smile, and Dan felt his chest ache with something more than longing.

"Sorry," Dan apologized.

—

Dinner, to say simply, was awkward. Dan knew that his father was suspicious of Phil, and his father knew that he knew while also knowing that Dan disliked the fact that he was suspicious of Phil. The only one ignorant of this current predicament was Phil, blissfully oblivious and digging into his dinner happily.

"This roast is lovely," Phil commented, breaking the inexorable silence. Dan cleared his throat quietly, stabbing a chunk of potato with his fork.

"I'll pass on your regards to the cook," Dan's father rumbled. Dan glared at his salad as if it had personally offended him. How dare his father sit there and play nice while thinking that Phil was out to get him!

“Thank you,” Phil said. “You know, I’m quite close with the night cook, Charlotte—she makes excellent midnight snacks.” It was a valiant attempt at getting the conversation to pick up, at getting anything to fill the uncomfortable silence, but his father didn’t even try to help him out.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Well, I hope you’re not distracting her from her work.”

Dan snorted. As if Charlotte had much work other than setting the kitchen to rights and preparing long-dish meals for the next day, or perhaps organizing the food schedule ahead of time. Having a quick meal to prepare in the middle of the night was probably a highlight for her, something for her to do and to keep her from feeling so tired as to accidentally fall asleep.

“Is something funny, Daniel?”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“May I inquire as to what?”

Dan sighed heavily. He didn’t like playing this game. He didn’t care to play it. He just wanted to be able to sit and enjoy a meal with his father and best friend (read: possible love-interest) without it containing this feeling of utter suffocation. Although, he could thank his father’s random suspicions for one thing: he no longer felt quite so torn up over the fact that he maybe-possibly was in love with his best friend, or that he was starting to realize that he had absolutely no interest in girls at all, which happened to explain a lot. It was like now that he had something to be properly upset about, he couldn’t waste time fretting over feelings he may or may not have. Sure, his best friend was adorable and a boy and Dan might be in love with him, but who cares? His father thought that that very same boy was trying to kill him!

“I forgot,” Dan lied blatantly. Phil was looking at him with alarm, probably wondering why he was being so short with his father. Preferably, he would just assume Dan was in some sort of mood, which, he could admit, wasn’t something unheard of. He could be a bit touchy, from time to time.

His father looked at him sternly over his goblet of wine, and Dan returned the look with boredom. As the king returned his glass to the table, a loud clank rang out through the opulent hall, one that might not have seemed so loud were there conversation filling the room as well. And how stupid was that? There were three of them in here! Usually two, seeing as Phil was only visiting. Why did they insist on dining in a room meant for many, a room that made it apparent just how alone they actually were? Did his father really not care—not care that he talked to no one besides his advisors and random nobles and his son? Not care that Dan’s only friend was another prince from a faraway land, without whom he never really bothered to talk to anyone at all?

“Daniel—”

“May I be excused?” Dan interrupted rudely. He glanced over at Phil, still wide-eyed and looking anxious, before clearing his throat. “And Phil too?”

“No,” his father said firmly. “You must finish—”

Before the words could even leave his father’s mouth, Dan was bending over his plate and shoveling food into his mouth as quickly as he could. It wasn’t prince-like in the least—was probably the least refined he’d looked (in company) in ages. And yet he didn’t care; he just wanted to get out of there, and he didn’t mind annoying his father as he did it.

“Done,” Dan proclaimed through a mouthful of half-chewed food, after which he (with difficulty) flushed it down with water.

His father glowered and opened his mouth to reply, probably a negative, and so Dan reached out and pushed Phil’s plate off the table, smiling slightly when it shattered on the ground, his food flying every which way. Phil paled, glancing from Dan to the spot that his food had been situated.

“Phil’s finished too,” he said. “Really, we have tons of plans for tonight, so if we could graciously be excused…”

“You might as well leave, since you insist on acting like a child,” his father conveyed, and Dan stood with a mocking bow, before jerking his head at Phil, who followed obediently.

“Er—thank you for the meal,” Phil said, rushed, before complying with Dan’s insistent hand on his wrist and allowing himself to be dragged from the room.

Once well away from the dining hall, Dan stopped walking quite so quickly, stopped stomping quite so loudly. He slowed down and let his angered breathing return to normal, at which point he looked at Phil.

“I can get you more food,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay, I was finished anyway.”

Dan rolled his eyes, turning down the hallway that would lead them towards the kitchens. “You haven’t angered me, don’t worry,” he said easily. “Wasn’t it the roast you liked?”

Once in the kitchen, Dan snatched a plate from a drying rack and maneuvered through the servants with ease, as if he owned the place (which, technically, he did). He squeezed his way through the cooks, not bothering to let them take the plate from him even as they offered, and served Phil some more food, taking the serving utensils directly out of the servants’ hands when he needed to.

“Is this enough?” he called, holding up the plate so Phil could see, still standing anxiously by the door.

“More than enough,” he answered, looking embarrassed. Dan shrugged and turned to leave.

“Will that be all, Your Highness?” one servant said boldly, perhaps not catching onto Dan’s bad mood. “Desserts have just come out of the oven.” Or perhaps he had caught on. Dan smiled genuinely at the man.

“We’ll be having some of that as well,” he decided. With that, the servant was calling across the room for cake, and Dan’s arms were soon loaded with even more dishes, which he precariously held onto as he made his way back through the kitchen. Phil took the dessert plates from him and Dan nodded his thanks before retreating from the kitchen and making his way towards the stairs.

“Wait there for a moment,” he said decisively. Phil simply stared at him in confusion while Dan made his way tentatively up the stairs, making sure that there was no residual oil spillage. Once assured that the path was safe, he called down the spiraling staircase for Phil to continue on.

“What was that about?” Phil questioned. He elbowed Dan purposefully in the side, and Dan stepped further away from him.

“There was oil spilled on them earlier today, I wanted to make sure it was all clear.” Phil was silent for a moment, before he finally shook his head in exasperation.

“You shouldn’t have done that—what if you’d fallen?”

“Then it would look like it was your fault,” he joked morbidly. Phil sucked in a shocked breath.

“That’s a scary thought,” he admitted, before adding decisively: “Don’t get hurt around me.” Dan just snorted in response, though he couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face. This was the Phil he knew and loved. Somehow, even when he didn’t know what Dan was upset about, he could manage to cheer him up.

He turned to smile at Phil, his curly hair falling into his eyes as he couldn’t help staring at the face that he saw every day—still handsome even when familiar, before he was tripping. It wasn’t a usual kind of trip, one where your feet stumbled or you tripped over yourself—this one was on purpose. His foot came into contact with something before he was pitching forward, somehow managing to hold onto Phil’s dinner as he threatened to meet the ground with his face.

Miraculously, Phil managed to reach out and latch onto Dan’s arm before he could fall completely, pulling him backwards into his chest moments afterward, though one of their desserts was sacrificed to the ground in order to do so. Dan had barely had a chance to settle against Phil, and definitely had no chance to thank him, before a torch was tipping out of its brazier in the wall and falling, as if in slow motion, to the floor. The second it made contact with the ground, there were flames, jumping into the air and shooting outwards, filling the space with loud crackling and vicious heat. The flames stopped mere steps before them, though the heat was intense, and they stumbled backwards in response.

Belatedly, Dan realized that there must’ve been some sort of chemical on the ground to make the fire act like this. Normally, fire wouldn’t spread across stones, and it had clearly reached a wall somewhere in front of him, where the chemical presumably stopped. Dan was lucky, having been caught by Phil before he could fall to the ground directly under the torch.

“Holy shit,” Phil whispered, still gripping Dan tightly against him. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Dan said, his mind feeling foggy with shock, before he cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean—yes. I’m fine.”

“That was terrifying,” Phil admitted, still watching the fire uneasily, though it was now growing smaller. Phil released him then, ducking down to examine the ground.

“There’s a trip wire,” he announced, looking up at Dan with concern. His fingers trailed the wire, right next to the fallen torch, which it had apparently been connected to. Dan tripping over the wire had caused it to pull the torch to the ground. This was no accident; this was a real, legitimate, attempt of assassination. “Who could’ve done this?”

“Anyone,” Dan answered, subdued. “Anyone who knows where to find the supplies. Anyone who knows the path I usually take to my rooms.” Phil swallowed thickly.

“Maybe that stair-oil wasn’t on accident,” he suggested. “Dan… is someone trying to kill you?”

Unable to hold it in any longer, after the stressful dinner and the adrenaline thrumming through his body, Dan blurted, “Yes. And my father thinks it’s you.”

For a long moment, there was silence. And then: “Oh,” Phil finally breathed. “Well—that explains dinner.”

Dan flushed, unable to maintain eye contact as he nodded. “Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I don’t blame you,” Phil answered easily. He glanced down at the fire, which was now barely flickering and low against the ground, having burned up most of the chemical used to incite it. “That was just idiotic,” he commented, still staring at the failed assassination attempt. “Really, they could’ve done much better.”

Dan laughed, reaching out to kick Phil in the shin, his hands otherwise occupied by Phil’s dinner plate. “Come on,” he said easily, his heart much lighter than before. “If we both make it back to my rooms alive, we might just be able to enjoy that cake.” Or what was left of it.

—

They did not get to enjoy the cake. Thankfully, it was not due to either of them somehow becoming the victim of murder, but simply because Phil tripped (of his own accord—no trip wire needed) and dropped the remaining one on the floor.

“Man,” Dan lamented, staring sadly at the wasted dessert. “I was excited for that.”

“We could go back…” Phil suggested, though he didn’t sound any more excited to go traipsing through the castle (in which they knew there was a hostile person) in search of more dessert. Dan wasn’t entirely sure what to do about the person trying to kill him, either. He felt as if he couldn’t go to his father, who was so convinced that it was Phil that he would probably deny the evidence suggesting otherwise. Plus, he didn’t really want to see his father anyway, seeing as he’d stooped so low as to suspect Phil in the first place.

“I wasn’t that excited,” Dan decided. They stopped in front of Dan’s quarters, now guarded by Lin and Elaine.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” Elaine greeted, and Dan nodded at her.

“There are two spilled cakes in the hallway,” he informed, knowing one of his guards would go to alert a maid. “Oh—and scorch marks too.”

“What—?”

Dan slipped past them, his hand latched firmly around Phil’s wrist so he would follow without staying to talk.

“Good evening!” Phil managed, before Dan was closing the door behind them and rolling his eyes. He let go of Phil then, oddly aware of every moment they were touching.

“What are we going to do?” Dan asked finally, the pressure of attempted-assassinations and suspected friends getting to him.

“Let’s play a game,” Phil suggested.

“What? I almost get murdered—you, right along with me, and you want to play a game?”

“Sure, why not?” Phil answered easily. “It’s best to get our minds off things, isn’t it? Let’s play truth or dare.”

Despite his better judgement (and his multitude of protests), Dan somehow found himself sitting on the floor before his bed, Phil a couple feet in front of him.

“Why are we sitting on the floor again?” Dan asked.

“It’s traditional,” Phil proclaimed. “It’s how we play back in Leona.”

“You and your friends?” Dan couldn’t help asking, feeling an odd bite of something that was probably jealousy  in his chest.

“Me and the staff,” Phil corrected. Dan couldn’t imagine asking Alfonzo or Charlotte to play a game with him, it was preposterous! But then, that was one of the differences between him and Phil. Phil just got along easily with everyone, it seemed.

“Okay, you go first,” Phil said easily, lounging against the wall opposite Dan, who was sitting up primly, more thanks to nerves than anything else. When in doubt, remember all that bullshit prince-training he’d had his whole life.

“I don’t know how,” Dan admitted. He was aware of the concept of the game, of course, but he’d never actually played it before. He certainly didn’t have any truths or dares lined up either—did Phil just keep them in stock at all times?

“Okay, I’ll go,” Phil easily remedied. “Truth or dare?”

“Er—what are they?”

“No,” Phil answered with a smile, “you don’t get to know them ahead of time. It’s part of the fun.”

“But what if I choose one and don’t like it?”

“Too bad.”

Dan looked at Phil, aghast, before deciding that if he truly didn’t like it, he would just throw Phil out of his rooms entirely.

“Fine,” Dan grumbled. “Um. Truth, I guess.”

“Okay. What do you hate so much about courting?” Phil asked, after a moment of thought. Dan paled. He couldn’t ask that! Dan would have to say that he was gay! Or… he could lie, he supposed, although that really broke the spirit of the game, didn’t it? Plus, he felt like Phil would be able to tell he was lying. A half truth, then.

“I’m not interested in them,” he answered finally, which was true enough. And it could be interpreted in many ways. For example, perhaps he wasn’t interested in them because they were all noble snobs who seemed to think themselves better than everyone else just because they’d been invited to be courted by the (gay) prince.

Phil hummed thoughtfully, before, “Okay, your go.”

“Truth or dare?” Dan asked. Phil didn’t even pause to think about it.

“Dare.”

Dan did have to think about it. There was a lot of humming and ‘umm’ing, but he finally thought of something. He remembered Phil’s second day here, remembered bringing him breakfast and reading dramatically from his book. He also remembered a letter falling out of said book, a letter covered in Dan’s own handwriting, which Phil had refused to let him read.

“I dare you to let me read that letter I wrote you,” Dan proclaimed, adding, when Phil looked confused, “The one you keep in that horrid romance novel.”

Phil groaned. He complained about how the dare should technically fall under truth, seeing as it was truth being revealed, but Dan would hear nothing of it. A guard was then sent to Phil’s room to retrieve the book. Soon enough, Phil was pulling the letter from the pages and tossing it towards Dan, crossing his arms immediately after.

Dan could tell right away that it was old, partially because of the state of the paper, and partially because of the date at the top, written shortly after Phil had last left Hirona.

Dear Phil,

I realize it’s been mere weeks since you left, but I miss you more than I could have possibly imagined. All the servants hate me as well—I knew they were only so nice because of you!

I’m planning my escape already. I think I’ll force open my window, climb onto the roof, and tie a rope along the spire on the other end of the castle, closest to the stables. From there I’ll prepare Alamo (I’ve watched him get prepared enough times to be able to manage it myself, I’d imagine) and ride into the sunset (towards Leona, of course!). I plan to shed my identity of prince and take up that of a commoner, a simple traveler.

You can’t tell me not to go, Phil Lester! For all you know, by the time you get this letter I’ll have already left! Or perhaps by the time you get it I’ll be leaving, or leaving within the week! You’ll have to be constantly prepared for a visit from yours truly, so you can’t let your guard down for a moment.

Anyway, this is a wonderful thought to have in your head regardless. Knowing that at any moment you could walk in from your morning ride, and there I’d be, sitting at your dining table and enjoying myself a large piece of fruit. Oh, the look on your face! It’ll be wonderful. Just you wait!

Dan flushed after reading his words of the past. He could remember thinking it was a marvelous thought, for Phil to be going about his tasks from day to day, constantly wondering if today would be the day they’d be reunited. Dan had never actually gone, of course, but he’d desperately wanted to.

“It was sort of my inspiration,” Phil offered voluntarily. “It’s why I didn’t tell you I was coming ahead of time.”

“And why did you come?” Dan demanded, the answer to that question still a mystery. Phil had said he would tell Dan if he beat him in a sword fight, but maybe now that they were playing truth or dare…

“It’s not your turn,” Phil answered easily, smirking as Dan huffed in annoyance. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare, I suppose.” And so the game continued, the tasks getting wilder and more obscure as they ran out of ideas. Phil continued to choose dare for every turn, so Dan didn’t even get a chance to ask him about why he’d come to Hirona anyway.

“Would you stop being a prince if you could?” Phil asked sometime later, after Dan had picked truth.

“Yes,” Dan answered, giving it little thought. The chance to give up his responsibilities? To be able to leave his kingdom, to perhaps go to Leona with Phil indefinitely? He would do it in a heartbeat. Phil seemed to take his answer in stride, and the game continued.

Eventually, Dan dared Phil to a sword fight, this time with the intention to win.

They fought long and hard, the rhythm familiar after all the times they’d sparred together. Occasionally Dan even saw Phil’s moves before he made them, side-stepping a moment ahead of time, ducking before Phil could land a hit.

He didn’t know how he did it; how he found his way inside Phil’s guard, how he tripped him (slightly unsportsmanlike) and pinned him to the ground, how he leveled his wooden sword at Phil’s throat. All he knew was that he did do it, and that he was sitting on Phil’s chest, pinning his arms to the floor and grinning wickedly.

“Tell me,” Dan demanded. Phil sighed.

“I’ll tell you,” he said, and Dan waited, excitement building in his stomach. “That I went easy on you!”

After that, it was only a matter of seconds before their positions somehow switched, Phil pinning him easily and disarming him as well. Dan hated being pinned by Phil, though mostly because he couldn’t help wondering what it would be like in a different scenario, in ones where instead of fighting, they were perhaps kissing, or maybe even more…

“You’re the worst,” Dan huffed, turning his head to the side to avoid looking at Phil’s face. It was too intense, looking at him so close, knowing how easy it would be to kiss him if he just leaned up.

“You love me,” Phil answered easily.

Yes, Dan thought. “Fuck off,” he answered.

When they finally went to sleep, after much too much truth or dare for just two people, Dan found himself as wound up as he had been during Phil’s first night in here. He could remember finding it so difficult to fall asleep, though this time Phil succumbed to it quite easily.

As Dan laid there, Phil rolled over and gathered him in his arms. He remained stiff, having sucked in a surprised breath, as Phil’s arms encircled him, his face pressed into Dan’s neck. It took a long time for Dan to fall asleep, due to the fact that he could feel each and every one of Phil’s breaths directly against his neck.

~~

next chapter 

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 16)

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:  Philza minecraft to the rescue!!!!

Chapter word count: 2727

Ao3

Practically crashing his bike outside the park, Phil hopped off and sprinted into the direction of his brothers, throughout the past hour of his shift he had been going through hell. Trying to concentrate and deal with naggy customers was ten times harder when you were terrified your little brother(s) might be having a panic attack. Much to his surprise though, when he arrived, panting and out of breath, he didn’t see the scene of chaos he had predicted. In fact, Wil was happily chatting to George, a hand grasping at the other’s hand, Phil supposed he was trying to replicate the feeling of having Techno with him, and Tommy was sitting next to Sapnap, a few feet away, playing on Techno’s DS.

It seemed peaceful, yet tense, like how the air always seems to be freshest after a storm.

“Everything okay guys?” Phil cleared his throat, seeing all four heads peak up upon hearing his voice. Wibur’s face seemed to morph into a grin as he got up and ran to his older brother, letting go of George for a more suitable stand-in for Techno. The first thing he did was grab hold of his arm, reveling in the comfort that it gave him to have an ounce of familiarity amongst everything happening.

“They’re still stuck” With Wil, Mumbling was never a good sign, he always seemed to fall back into the habit when he was ashamed and didn’t want to admit to something. Did Wilbur really blame himself for this? It was an old park, it was honestly a wonder how it hadn’t happened sooner. He had a smile on his face but his body language betrayed any kind of front he was attempting to give.

Leading him to the door was Wilbur, placing a hand on the knob and trying his hardest to open it as if to prove a point.

“It wont open..” There was a sniffle before a cough was forced out to hide it  “It wont open.”

His voice sounded weak, like he was on the verge of just giving up,of just accepting that he’d never see Techno again. In Phil’s opinion that would be an incredibly childish thought, not like he’d ever say that, it was just that he’d found nothing was really impossible. Sometimes you need to think outside the box to figure it out, but everything was very much possible. That being said, he understood why Wil would feel that way, he couldn’t really knock him for something he couldn’t help, feelings could get messy and complicated but family could always figure it out.

First, he gave a little knock on the door and called into the booth, wanting to make sure the two were okay first, plus it would be a bit ironic if he came to help and accidentally swung the door into them because he hadn’t given a warning.

“You two alright in there? I’m gonna get you out, okay?” “Phil!” Dream seemed to yell like he had all the energy in the world “We’re okay! I broke my mask! Techno spoke!”

“You broke your mask?!” George had piped up, turning his head, brows furrowed with concern and confusion. The two got into a little back and forth, Dream trying to blow it off as totally-not-a-big-deal and George getting exponentially more worried about his brother.

However, all Phil was able to think about was the fact that Techno had spoken. It wasn’t incredibly rare nowadays, he had a small number of friends who he would speak to but he could honestly say that -that Phil knew of, of course- that Techno had spoken to someone he wasn’t already close with.

The pride swelling inside him was immeasurable, he knew just how hard Techno had been working to get to this point and the fact that it was paying off was just mind-blowing to him. Techno had worked so so hard and he had taken a massive step with something that was scary for him.

They were doing something right at least. Okay. Back on task, he couldn’t exactly gush about his little brother if he was stuck in a ticket booth.

Giving the door a quick wiggle it became very apparent that it was tilted off its hinges and without knowing where it was getting caught it would be pretty impossible to get it open. Sighing, he decided with great reluctance that he was going to have to ‘pull a Wilbur’ as they had started to affectionately refer to it.

Within five minutes he had found a rock, big and sharp, it could clearly do some damage if it had enough force behind it. Honestly, he felt a little bad about doing this, when they first found this place they had made the decision that they wouldn’t vandalise anything since that would just ruin the sanctity of their spot. This was a rare exception though, Phil very much still stood by the fact that mindless damage was bad but this was really the only way to get the boy’s out.

“I’m going to throw a rock through the shutters okay? Make sure you’re standing back”

“Standing back!”

The first throw made a big indent, the corner of the shutter caving up just so Phil could bash it a few more times and cause an actual gap. Once there was enough of a crawl-space, Phil held the top of the shutter up and signaled for the boy’s to go through. The metal was poking into his hands and he knew he’d need to bandage them up when he got home but he saw it as more important to make sure the boys got out unscathed. Especially Dream, not to say he didn’t love Techno, he just hadn’t met their parents and who’s to say they had had a tetanus shot?

Generally, he did try not to compare their home-life to other people’s since there were just so many factors that affected it, that being said if he wasn’t the one to book his brother’s vaccinations every few years, he doubted that they’d  get done at all.

Dream had been the first out of the booth, Techno guiding him from behind since his vision was pretty limited from the coat draped over his face. Upon finally being back out in the open, his brothers immediately came over to check if he was okay, pulling him away from the group for a moment to check for any scratches on his face. Suddenly it hit Phil, these boys were a bit rowdy, they were impulsive and loud, they made a lot of questionable decisions but at the end of the day, the love was still there; the exact same love and concern he had for his brothers was there. Maybe they weren’t exactly as rotten as originally thought.

Once Techno had so much as placed a foot outside the booth, Wil had rushed over, clinging onto him and whispering an array of apologies and promises to never ignore him like that ever again.

“Techno!” The boy had Techno’s cheeks cupped in his hands as he half examined him for cuts and half tried to reassure himself that his brother was very much still here. “Techno! Techno! Techno!”

Eventually, the boy gave in to his name being chanted and pulled Wilbur into a hug, rubbing his back gently. Everything was okay now. The scene was sweet and picturesque, the two holding gently.

As if materialising back from the corner they had scuttled off to, the Dream team were back but George was leading them instead of the usual Dream, that made sense, Phil thought to himself, the day had been emotionally exhausting for everyone involved, no doubt Dream just needed a cool down from his role.

“We’re gonna head home I think, Dream needs to get a new mask and I think we’re all pretty tired after today. We did want to come today to talk to you guys about everything that happened, I guess we kinda see why we shouldn’t come unannounced now. Still. I wanna talk so are we okay to come down Wednesday? We promise to always tell you beforehand if we’re gonna come now.”

“Wednesday’s good, I’ll be taking this lot home soon too”

George went to move but Dream stood still, giving Techno, who still had a very attention deprived Wilbur stuck to his arm, a tug on his sleeve.

“I uh.. I still have your coat”

Techno’s face contorted into an emotion Phil couldn’t read, apparently Wil could though because he passed him his phone, presumably so that he could type out what he wanted to say rather than going through the whole process again. Plus, that was a closed space with one person, Techno already knew trying out here would be too much so he didn’t bother, opting to just show him the phone screen instead.

‘Just bring it on Wednesday, idc, get a new mask though because you look stupid’

Dream ‘grinned’ (or as much as a grin you could do through a hood) and nodded, thanking Techno before he and his brother’s finally said their farewells and the sleepy bois were left alone in the park.

It was quiet, just for a minute Before Phil burst out into a massive grin, scooping up his brothers into a big hug.

“I’m so proud of all of you! I’m so proud! So so proud!”

Each one of them got a kiss on the forehead as Phil gushed over them

“Okay okay I think it’s time I get a proper explanation first though”

--

Phil had led them to a bench, the same one near the coaster that they had been sitting at earlier, and got ready to hear the full story. Wil was still holding onto Techno, keeping their hands linked even when they were sitting but he supposed it had also been pretty upsetting for Tommy too since the young boy immediately went to sit on Phil’s lap, something that he only ever really did if he was tired or in need of comfort, snuggles for the sake of snuggles were usually when he was sitting with the twins.

And so, with a little boy on his lap and his other two younger brothers in front of him, Phil gave out a sigh, trying to decide what was best to say. They all seemed so shaken up.

“If explaining what happened is going to hurt, you don't need to say anything, I love you all and I trust your judgements. Of course I’m curious but at the end of the day my job is just to love you guys and make sure you have something stable to come home to”

Tommy had curled up against his chest, taking this as a sign that he didn't want to be part of the conversation, Phil wrapped him up in his green jacket, hoping that the option to shield himself from it would help a bit.

“I can explain” Wil cleared his throat, fiddling with Techno’s hand, who was used to the affection by now. “They came down and.. I got mad. I knew you wouldn’t like it but I thought I was protecting everyone so I kept yelling and yelling and I wouldn’t even listen to what George was trying to tell me. Techno told me he was going into overload but….but…” He stopped fiddling with Techno’s hand, instead opting to squeeze it as his face contorted to one of guilt and pain.

“I didn’t want to listen or deal with it or just stop yelling so I ignored him. I carried on Yelling until he ran off, I think Dream must have followed him because they both ended up in the booth and the door got stuck. I got so scared and I was freaking out, Tommy was being really sweet and trying to help but I think it was all just a bit much, He and Sapnap went off to play which I was really glad about.. I.. I didn’t want him to see me like that. Anyway George helped me calm down and that’s around the time I called you. We kinda just spoke about everything, I told him about my music and how Techno plays violin, he spoke about some of his hobbies too. He’s kinda nice actually”

Phil’s face morphed into sympathy, scooting across on the bench to pull Wilbur into a hug.

“You all handled that so so well. I love you all so much and I’m so proud, Toms? Look up for a second big guy” A little face poked out from the big green jacket “I’m so so happy to hear you were helping Wil, that was a very good thing, I’m also very very very proud to hear you were able to give him his space when he needed thinking time, that was a very grown up decision and I’m incredibly proud of you for that.”

Tommy was grinning now, he clearly disliked it when his brothers were upset but the praise was enough to get back the usual smiley boy. “I’m the best.”

“That’s right” Phil laughed “You’re the best”

Next up, Wilbur. God if he had all the time in the world he’d still have to rush to say all the reasons he was proud.

“Wil?”

The boy looked up, looking much smaller than normal with his shoulders hunched.

“You did so so well, you handled that perfectly. Maybe it started off a little rocky, maybe there were a few bad decisions but that’s okay, nobody got hurt and you're all safe. I’ve never seen you be able to de-escalate yourself like that before and honestly I’m just at a loss for words. You’re doing so well and I can tell you were trying really hard to keep it together. I love you so so much and I promise you we aren’t going anywhere.”

Wil didn’t have a response, just a shy smile, moving to rest his forehead on Techno’s shoulder, Tonight definitely seemed like one of those nights where Techno would need to stay by his side the whole time.

“And Techno? Oh my God. You spoke to Dream? Can I hear the story?”

Techno nodded, a big grin on his face, having clearly been waiting for his turn to get praised, “Well Dream broke his mask and he was sad, I gave him my coat to try to fix it but he was still sad that I saw his face. I tried to remember what you do when we’re sad and I realised I was going to have to talk, it was really scary and I ended up doing the counting thing that me and Wilbur do! But Wil wasn’t there so I had to gesture with my hands but he caught on pretty quick. We did that for a bit and then!!” He was bouncing a bit, one hand on top of Wilbur's to make sure the other didn’t mistake his excitement for trying to get him off. “I got the words out! I told him that he didn’t need to be upset about it and that one day he’d feel better about it and he said that he thinks the same about me”

It was rare to see Techno so excited but it was also rare to have a situation as big as this, Phil didn’t even reply for the first few seconds, pulling the others into yet another hug.

Today had a lot of hugs.

“Tech’ that’s amazing. I don’t even know how to say how proud I am of you, you’re really doing so well.”

As the bigger the thing needed to be praised got, Phil found that adequate praise was harder and harder to articulate. How could he even put it into words just how proud he was?

“You’re doing so so well, This was something massive for you and you really beat it, this was such a big step in the right direction, I’m so proud of you Techno. I’m incredibly proud of all of you.”

The four of them sat together, all huddled up in a happy little pile before Phil gently moved out of it and stood up.

“I think we all deserve ice cream and a movie, who’s with me?”

Who would say no to ice cream and a movie?

#dream #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #dream team #sleepy bois inc #dt #sbi #fanfic