#Dpss2k16

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @sassquishes

From: Your Secret Santa

#dpss2k16 #sassquishes #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @joyfuljennyberry

From: Your Secret Santa A message from your Santa: I hope you had an amazing holiday! i didn't have much time to do this so i hope u still like it buddy :) it was v fun to message you and i wish i did it more, happy new year !!

#dpss2k16 #joyfuljennyberry #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

4A

To: @love-and-hate-3

Most people’s soulmate tattoos are fairly short – “excuse me” or “nice to meet you” were common phrases. Most people just don’t say that much in one breath to a complete stranger. Most people, however, are not Phil’s soulmate. Thus, while everyone else has pretty, dainty phrases on their forearms, Phil has an entire paragraph crammed between his elbow and his hand in teeny tiny print. The size, combined with the messy handwriting, caused Phil to spend hours deciphering what the first words his soulmate will say to him actually were. On his sixteenth birthday, Phil couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed that he was still clueless as to how his first interaction would go.

Since then, hundreds of hours in classes, work, and procrastination have been spent trying to make out the words. Over half a decade later, he’s pretty sure he’s correctly identified enough words to get the gist of what it says. Now it’s just a matter of waiting.

Phil sat on sofa in his brother’s lounge, idly flipping through a magazine, while he waited for his brother and his girlfriend to finally be ready to leave. A light knock at the door brought him out of his daze.

“Phil,” he heard Cornelia call from the bedroom, “can you grab the door? We’re expecting a package!”

With a sigh, Phil tossed the magazine onto the coffee table and walked to the door. His mum’s birthday present teetered slightly as the magazine collided with it. When he opened the door, he found a slightly smaller boy with a similar fringe holding a box and standing awkwardly in the hallway. Phil opened his mouth to ask where he should sign, but was cut off before he could say anything.

“Hi, I just moved in and this got delivered to me and the grouchy woman down the hall said to bring it to this apartment” As the boy talked, Phil could slowly feel a smirk growing on his face. The boy, however, wasn’t quite making eye contact and continued rambling. “Are you Cornelia? Obviously you’re not. Are you her husband? Boyfriend? Sorry – just – here.” The boy shoved the package into Phil’s arms before turning around to retreat back towards what Phil assumed was his own apartment.

“So, do you always talk this much?” He called out.

The boy stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face Phil. The awkward expression was replaced by a cheeky grin accompanied by an adorably deep dimple.

“Only when I’m caught off guard by incredibly hot guys.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to blush. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Phil, Cornelia’s quasi brother-in-law.”

“Hi,” the boy smiled. “I’m Dan, Cornelia’s new neighbor.”

“I’ve been waiting about six years for that package, you know.”

Dan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. Phil caught a glimpse of his own sloppy scrawl on Dan’s left forearm.

“Man, I knew the Royal Mail was shit, but I think that might be a new low. To be fair, I’ve only had it about ten minutes.” Dan chuckled quietly and Phil knew immediately that he would have no problem falling in love with that laugh.

Cornelia appeared behind Phil, carrying both her and Martin’s and Phil’s presents in her hands.

“Did you get the package, Phil?” Cornelia’s eyes drifted to Dan, who was still leaning in the doorway. “Oh, hi,” she said to Dan.

“Hello, I’m Dan.” Like a perfect gentleman, Dan extended his hand to shake Cornelia’s. “Your package got delivered to my place by accident.”

“Thanks for bringing it by! Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah, I just moved into apartment 4A last week.”

“Lovely to meet you. We’d love to have you over for tea sometime soon.” Cornelia turned to Phil. “Martin just called the cab and said he’d meet us downstairs.” She grabbed the package from Phil’s hands and tossed it onto the couch.

Phil didn’t break eye contact with Dan. “Sorry, it’s my mum’s birthday or else I’d…”

Dan straightened up. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll be in my apartment—4A—all weekend, ya know, unpacking and stuff in 4A. So yeah, uh, whenever. 4A.”

A wide smile spread across Phil’s face and his tongue slightly poked out. He laughed quietly at Dan’s lack of subtlety. “Sorry, what was that? I think I missed it. Did you say 5C?”

“Shut up you spork. I’m just gonna…” Dan took a few steps backwards and gave Phil a small two-fingered salute with his left hand. This time, Phil got a better look at the words on Dan’s forearm: So, do you always talk this much? His stomach involuntarily did a flippy-over-thing at the sight. Dan turned around and scampered into his apartment, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Cornelia shot Phil a confused look, but grasped his wrist and pulled him towards the stairs without question. “Come on, let’s go before we miss the cab.”

Phil remained silent as they trudged down the four flights of stairs to the lobby. In the back of his mind, he heard Martin yell at them to wait up. Together, the three of them waited in the crisp November air; while they stood on the pavement, Cornelia huddled into Martin for body warmth.

The cab came and Phil climbed into the backseat, as if on autopilot. His thoughts drifted to caramel eyes and a long brunette fringe. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Dan’s chuckle. He replayed their short interaction in his head over and over again on the way to the restaurant.

“Phil. PHIL. PHIL.” Martin’s fingers snapping loudly in his face pulled him out of his daydreams. “I said we’re here. Get out of the cab.”

“Oh. Oops.” Flustered, Phil opened the door and gracelessly clambered out, holding the door opened for his brother.

Dinner passed by in a blur. Several times, his mother asked him why he was particularly aloof tonight, but Phil brushed it off each time. Tonight was his mother’s special night and he didn’t want to overshadow her birthday celebrations. After the third time his mum expressed concern, Phil tried his best to push his encounter with his soulmate to the back of his head and engage more.

It wasn’t until he was standing outside the restaurant waiting with Martin and Cornelia for their cab again that he let his thoughts drift back to Dan.

“Cornelia?” Phil interrupted her conversation with Martin.

“Hmm?”

“What was in the box? From earlier?”

Cornelia smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m not telling you.”

Phil cocked his head to the side. “Why not?”

“It’s your Christmas present, silly.”

Without warning, Phil flung himself at Cornelia, embracing her in a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Cornelia patted Phil’s back as best as she could, given that her arms were pinned to her side by Phil’s smothering hug. “I’ve gotten you a present every year for four years. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, you never need to get me one again because you’re never going to top this.” Phil released her, stepping back.

“Okay, nerd, you haven’t even opened it yet.”

“No—I—uh…” His cheeks reddened. “Dan.”

Martin, who missed the entire interaction earlier, muttered, “Who the bloody hell is Dan?”

However, Cornelia’s eyes widened. Her eyes traveled down Phil’s right arm. “Was that…?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

This time, it was Cornelia who smothered Phil. “Oh my god. I’m so happy for you.” She stepped back, reaching up to squeeze Phil’s cheeks between her hands. “Does this mean you’ll stop spending every moment you can at our apartment?”

Phil smiled so wide it hurt. “Yeah, but I can’t promise you’ll see any less of me. He is your neighbor, after all.”

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Martin interjected.

“My package got delivered across the hall by accident and the new neighbor brought it over.” Cornelia roughly grabbed Phil’s arm and shoved it towards Martin’s face.

“Okay…?”

Cornelia rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so dense. Phil’s soulmate brought the package over.

A look of realization spread across Martin’s face. “Oh… Oh! Congratulations!” Phil smiled, suddenly eager to get back to the apartment. He was secretly hoping to bail on the Great British Bake Off marathon they had planned.

The ride back seemed to take an eternity. When they finally arrived at the apartment, Phil awkwardly loitered by the door while Martin and Cornelia hung their coats and set down their things.

“I’m sorry to be rude, but do you mind if I maybe go across the hall instead of watching the Bakeoff? See if Dan’s awake still?”

“Take the spares so you don’t wake us up when you come back.” Phil barely caught the keys Cornelia tossed at him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Martin smirked.

“It’s not like that—I’m not going to… that. I just want to meet him. Properly.”

Cornelia shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him in the direction of Dan’s apartment. “Get out of here. Have fun.”

As he stood in front of 4A, Phil took a steadying breath to try to calm his nerves. Before he could chicken out, he knocked lightly on Dan’s door. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly 23:00. He hoped Dan wasn’t an early sleeper.

Much to his relief, the door opened barely ten seconds after he knocked. Dan had changed into black joggers paired with a black tshirt and had clearly showered since Phil saw him earlier. Phil’s eyes were immediately drawn to Dan’s hair, which was a wet, curly mop on top of his head. Self-consciously, Dan fiddled with the curls, trying to tame them into submission.

“You have curly hair,” Phil murmured, stunned.

Dan flushed. “I know. I look like a fucking hobbit.”

Phil desperately wanted to reach out and run his hands through Dan’s hair, but they’d only just met and he didn’t want to freak Dan out. Instead, he said, “the cutest hobbit I’ve ever seen.”

The redness of Dan’s cheeks extended to his ears, but he smiled shyly and Phil could see a hint of his deep dimple. “Do you want to come in?”

“I’d like nothing more.”

As Phil entered the apartment, he scanned the lounge. It was obvious that Dan was still moving in, but the room was littered with knickknacks. A large Muse poster hung on the opposite wall. A charizard plushie sat haphazardly on the sofa. A boxed set of the Studio Ghibli movies balanced precariously atop the television. Mario Kart was paused on the screen.

No, Phil thought, I won’t have any trouble at all falling in love with this boy.

#dpss2k16 #love-and-hate-3 #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

to: @totorototo-ro

From: Your Secret Santa

A message from your Santa: message: i’m sorry that i didn’t have enough time to make you a nicer gift but i hope you liked my quick little doodle nonetheless! hope you had a good holiday and a great new year! <3

#dpss2k16 #totorototo-ro #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @nerdylibrary

From: Your Secret Santa

#dpss2k16 #nerdylibrary #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

pretty amazing, phil

To: @amazingaliyah

Phil Lester liked coffee a lot, but if there was one thing he liked a more it would be the boy that always sat in the corner of his friend’s coffee shop. His name was Dan and he was a writer according to Megan, the owner of the shop and one of Phil’s best friends. Dan’s hair was a soft brown styled similar to Phil’s but his fringe was in the opposite direction. He had deep brown eyes that turned a light whiskey color when he looked out of the window and into the sun. Phil decided that he much preferred Dan’s eyes to his own strange mix of blue, green, and yellow.

It was a strange day in mid June as the rain was falling down so hard that Phil could still hear it through the music from his earbuds. However, it was even stranger as Dan wasn’t at his usual table. Instead, a large burly man was sitting there typing furiously on his laptop. Dan was sitting in the table nearest to the door, nervously tapping on the table. He quickly shot up from his seat and shuffled over to the counter where he ordered himself a coffee. Phil tried to avoid staring at Dan when he walked past him by hiding his face into his book. It was definitely creepy to stare at a stranger especially if they didn’t even know your name, it made it creepier if you knew their name too.

Once Phil heard the familiar sound of the coffee machines working away he looked up from his book to see Dan.

“I’m sorry but your friend told me to give you this.” Dan sputtered quietly, holding up some napkins, “She told me you were prone to spilling and your drink was on the end of a table.“

"Thank you Dan.” Phil responded, knowing full well what Megan was trying to do.

“How did you know my name?"Dan asked with a mix of curiosity and confusion and as to why the cute stranger he saw every day knew this information about him.

"Oh, um Megan told me."Phil responded internally cursing himself for making it obvious how creepy had been.

"Why?” Dan questioned surprised by the other boy’s slightly strange tone.

“Because I think you’re cute.“ Phil mumbled almost unintelligibly. Although, Dan must have good hearing as he looked surprised and he giggled,his dimple popping out, making Phil smile in return.

"Well, why didn’t you say anything?” Dan added cockily.

“I didn’t think you were interested.“ Phil pointed out, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he smiled.

” Here’s my number text me and we can make plans, but we can make sure it’s not somewhere where you can spill, dont worry.“ Dan assured Phil as he walked back to his table with his coffee and sat back down, giving one last smile to Phil before returning to his writing.

__________ Dan Howell is late. What makes it worse is that it’s raining today, taking what his what was once neat, straight hair and making it into a curly mess. All he wanted to do was have a nice date with a nice boy at a nice art museum but apparently that’s too much to ask for. Dan walked quickly as to avoid staying in the rain any longer than necessary. He stopped for a second, just to look down at his phone to check the time. That was definitely not a good idea as he was suddenly knocked over into a fairly large puddle, ruining whatever tiny shred of confidence in his appearance he had left.

I don’t have to tell you that this wasn’t the best time for Phil to call, but, the universe decided to give Dan one last passive aggressive middle finger and have Phil do it anyway. Dan scrambled to answer the call with his shaking hands.

“Hello!” Phil exclaimed in an almost sickening false cheery voice “Is this Dan? Or is this the fake number I’ve been texting with for a week?”

“Phil…” Dan whispered pitifully. His day was now officially the shittiest it could be. Here he was sitting in a muddy puddle on a sidewalk, soaking wet, late for his date, and to top it all off, his date now aware of how useless he was at being human. Plus, be was still being rained on.

“Ph-Phil, I’m sor-” he started.

“My bad, are you busy?” Phil interrupted “, I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

“Phil, I’m really sorry. I j-just I woke up late and it’s raining and I fell. Just, fuck, it hasn’t been a great day.”

“Oh.” Phil stated plainly. “Then maybe you would prefer to come over to my flat? We can play Mario Kart and eat pizza in pajamas?” He offered, his mood changing surprisingly quickly.

“That actually sounds amazing, Phil.” Dan muttered, sniffling quietly. “Please pick me up I’m a block away from the museum. Your house better be clean, Phil Lester.” he added a small smile working on to his face.

“Not to worry Daniel,” Phil responded, doing his best to sound like an old posh woman.“I’m never messy.”

“If you say so.” Dan conceded. After a short pause he added a bit uncomfortably “ Can you pick me up now?”

“Oh yeah, I’m on my way.” Phil rushed out. Dan’s smile grew more, his dimple making an appearance. Phil was pretty amazing at making him smile, he decided.

A silver ford pulled up directly beside Dan, who had been wringing out his t-shirt. Dan immediately walked over to the car and sat down in the passenger seat.

“Your hair is curly!” Phil announced excitedly.

“I am painfully aware, Philip” objected Dan, successfully ending the conversation.

__________

“First of all, Philip Lester you are a nerd and second, where is your bathroom.” Dan declared.

“I am a nerd and my bathroom is down the hall, first door on your left.” Phil instructed, smiling as Dan made his way down the hall. Phil decided he definitely liked this boy more than coffee. Little did he know Dan was thinking along the same lines

__________

im sorry its so poorly written and the characters are shitty but i hope it made you happy @Amazingaliyah ♡

#dpss2k16 #Amazingaliyah #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

Dan and Vampire!Phil Christmas AU

To: @spark-writes

Dan was anxious. It was already dark out: the sun had set hours ago, and here he was, still wandering alone around the London landing bay trying to find some stupid tech for his younger brother. His search however had so far been fruitless, and he was quickly starting to realize how unsafe it was to be outside at this hour when it was so close to the end of the month. He quickened his pace, trying desperately not to breathe. The foggy cloud leaching from his warm mouth in the cold would be a dead giveaway for the Feeders, and Dan had no desire to fight anyone off tonight.

He was nearly at the landing bay now, and he tightly gripped his tube pass. The snow around his feet didn’t help, as he was worried he would slip going at such a fast pace. If he could make it to the underground then everything would be fine. They weren't allowed on the train this late at night, and if any of them tried to make a move on him there, the Minders would lead Dan safely away.

Only about 50 meters away from the entrance now he mused to himself, jogging faster. He could see the light of the opening from here, yet he swore heard… something… trodding behind him now. Even though it was most likely another anxious Human rushing to the gates, he did not intend to stick around long enough to find out. Now only 40… 35… 30 meters…

“Hey, excuse me! Please wait!” A desperate sounding voice called from behind him. It sounded like any young man, late for the train just as Dan was, but the voice sounded slightly sticky and metallic. It was just the tiniest difference from a Human voice, but Dan knew it was one of them. They were very good at copying the real Humans, but Dan had always picked up on their small irregularities easily. Dan started to run now, but he was no match for the creature. He could hear it picking up its pace with inhumanly speed, and heard it gracefully take off from the ground. Just fucking run, idiot, Dan screamed internally as his breathing became shallow and labored as he ran faster and faster. 20 meters now… 15…

“I asked you to STOP!” It said forcefully, suddenly appearing in front of Dan so quickly that he had no time to slow down causing him run face first into it’s pale body. He felt himself land awkwardly on his back in the slushy snow outside the bay, and closed his eyes tightly refusing to look up at the being.

“P-please.” He begged weakly, losing the remaining ounce of courage he had been holding on to. “Just d-don’t hurt me.” He begged as he cautiously opened his eyes hoping to find escape. But regardless of his intents, his eyes uncontrollably raised to meet those of the figure looming over him, and he felt himself passing out quickly as he stared at the vampire’s pristine, pearly fangs. However, as his vision tunneled and he drifted into unconsciousness, Dan swore he could hear the vampire yelling concernedly, and felt him reach down, attempting, he supposed, to shake him awake.

“No I wasn’t trying to hurt you” he heard the being whisper and felt a cool hand touch his cheek as he faded into the blackness.

____________

Dan awoke slowly, unsure if what he had just witnessed was only a dream. He stretched up anxiously from under his sheets and looked around as if he was expecting to see that vampire next to him, fangs bared menacingly ready to drain the life from Dan’s neck.

However, there was no vampire to be seen, and it seemed the only one awake at this hour was Dan himself. He took inventory: everything was just as Dan had left it when he headed out to go Christmas shopping. His drawers were still half empty, and his floor was littered with the same laundry. His filming equipment was still strewn around the room, and he saw that the gifts he had purchased were laying semi-neatly in a pile by his bed frame. Could it really just have been a dream? he wondered unlocking his phone to see a 20% battery warning and a time that read 2:45am.

He was nearly about to accept that it had been a strangely real nightmare and cuddle back up in his warm sheets until he heard a creak come from the kitchen followed by and bubbly but nervous “Oopsie!” Dan stood up slowly and rummaged around in the pile of pants nearest to his bed hoping to find something to use in defense. Grabbing a folded tripod in his left hand, and the phone in his right, he slipped silently through his door, and into the hall.

The closer he got the more rummaging he heard, and the more he thought that maybe he should give up on being brave and instead just turn around and try and escape through his bedroom window. It was too late now though; he was nearly at the glass entrance to the kitchen. It couldn’t be that Feeder rummaging around in there, right? Wouldn’t he have already come for Dan’s blood by now?

Nonetheless, as Dan peered through the door, he saw the tall, pale figure from a few hours ago searching through his cereal cabinet. Filled with rage by both the kidnapping and the intrustion, Dan banged the door open screaming and waving the tripod over his head. He swiftly brought it down on the vampire’s shoulder with a satisfying crack, and stood there panting, smug, and still fuming waiting for the creature to fall down in pain.

… But nothing happen. Other than the Feeder chirping a little “ow!” and rubbing its arm, the hard thrust of the tripod had no effect. Dan meekly realizing his mistake started backing towards the wall as the vampire turned towards him slowly. As Dan met the beings blue eyes once again, he wrapped his arms tightly in front of his chest waiting silently for the being to attack him. But instead he felt himself warmly wrapped in a bear hug. “Oh thank goodness you woke up! I was worried you’d hurt yourself with that fall. It was really icy and -- oh I haven’t even introduced myself! Hey, don’t worry! It's okay to open your eyes you know…?” The Feeder whimpered, releasing Dan lightly from his grip. Dan slowly opened his eyes to see the vampire-man beaming back at him.

Suddenly realizing that he was not in any immediate danger, Dan quickly regained his confidence (as well as his anger): “Oh I don’t care who you are! Why the hell did you scare me and break into my bloody house and -” Dan looked down at the cereal the boy was gripping in his hand - “eating my fucking cereal of all things!” The being looked down in shame and quietly set the box of Crunchies on the counter.

“Listen! I really am sorry. You don’t understand at all. I didn’t mean to scare you, but when you fainted… well I couldn’t just leave you in the snow because-”

“It’d be bad for your Feeder Rating, right? Leaving a human in the snow you’d get taken in for sure, wouldn’t you… erm… what did you say your fucking name was again?!” He blurted wildly, taking another step away from whatever monster was in front of him.

“No that’s really not it at all! Oh my name’s Phil by the way. Lester. Phil Lester… but I’m getting sidetracked.” The being, erm Phil, blushed a bit running his hands through his jet-black hair before nervously resuming his plea. “Please just give me a few minutes to explain. If you’re still mad then… I don’t know… I’ll pay for all the packages you bought yesterday and buy a new box of those “Crunchies” things. Oh, and leave, of course!”

Dan considered the danger that could come from this, and knew he should call the Minders right away and get this vampire fiend reported and detained as soon as possible. Maybe it was only the fatigue from being awake at 3 in the morning, or maybe it was the innocent look Phil was giving him, but against his better judgement he hesitantly reached his hand out, tilted his head slightly, and smiled. “We can sit over in the living room” he suggested quietly, and Phil accepted Dan’s warm hand with his chilled one.

“Okay it’s a deal!”

____________

Phil took a long sip of the warm coffee that Dan had just brewed and breathed out softly and lovingly as he indulged in the sweet aroma. Dan however couldn’t bear to drink any of his coffee as he stared across the living room at the Feeder. He kept his phone firmly in hand, in case this was all a trick, but the longer Dan stared at Phil, the less he thought that was the case.

“I suppose I should start with the facts.” Phil murmured from behind the steaming mug. “Yes, I suppose so,” Dan nodded, barely able to focus on the words coming from Phil’s still slightly sticky tone. Along with this irregularity, Dan also noticed how Phil’s hands sometimes rested against his side in awkward angles, and how his chuckle sounded strangely dark at times. No matter how hard Dan tried, he couldn’t get over the thought that a vampire was sitting only meters from him.

“Well, not all vampires, or Feeders as you Normies call us, drink blood.” Dan refocused looking questioningly at the monster. Phil giggled again with that oddly bubbly yet awkward sounding laugh. “See, we really only drink blood for the sugar content as our own bodies lack it. But that sugar source doesn’t necessarily have to come from Normie blood. We can take it from smaller creatures such as birds or fish, or we can even intake sugar from other sources. LIKE COFFEE!” Phil smiled taking another sip of the drink. Despite himself, Dan laughed brightly.

“A vampire with a coffee addiction. Who would’ve thought?” He said still slightly wary that Phil would jump on him at any moment.

“It’s true!” Phil said defending himself. “Blood is really an acquired taste in this day and age… only the vampires with a really low Feeder Rating do it anymore! Last I checked my Rating was in the 90s. Dan, I promise I really am a good guy!” Dan could see that now. The Rating system was what the Humans used to decide the goodness and Humanity of the vampires that lived among them. The closer to 100, the more normal a vampire would seem. Those above around an 80 were typically pretty great people. The ones that were farther down… those were the Feeders you had to worry about…

“Maybe I’m crazy, but I believe you.” Dan said with certainty. To prove his point, he stood up from his seat, and waddled over slowly to sit next to Phil on the couch. He greeted Phil with a smile and a nod, and in return, Phil’s blushed cheeks stood out sharply against his nearly white complexion. Dan found his heart beating a little faster the closer he got to Phil, but surprisingly, his reaction wasn’t a fearful one. It was actually quite pleasant. He looked at Phil’s blue eyes again, and watched as the candles he’d lit flickered softly in the lightly colored orbs.

Dan scooted away quickly, blushing himself. What was wrong with him? What was he doing? Shaking his head lightly he resumed his discussion with Phil, still bothered by one detail of his story. “So, why did you try and stop me at the station then? We missed the train, and I bet it was really an inconvenience to get me home. Sorry about that by the way…”

“It's fine. I’m kind of used to Normies running away from me… it's happened for nearly 150 years now.” Phil paused here for a bit, and the silence tugged lightly on Dan’s heartstrings. “Regardless, you seemed nice and I’ve been pondering something for quite awhile now.”

“Go ahead. No judgement here!” Dan joked trying to lighten the mood. However, Phil continued with all seriousness.

“Well, I was bitten when I was around 25, and that was nearly 130 years ago. Other than that and my name, of course… well, I don’t really remember much else about my life. I can’t remember my family well at all anymore, or even some basic things like how to brush my teeth or how to work the clasps on a coat… So for the past few decades… I’ve kinda been wondering what this “Christmas” thing is all about. Why the indoor trees? Why all the gifts? Why so MANY TRAVELERS? I NEARLY GET HIT EVERYDAY!” Phil mumbled. “I guess what I’m asking is: why all the fuss? Is it really worth it?”

Dan had to stop himself from giggling. What a silly and adorable thing for this sweet vampire to ask. Any malicious thoughts Dan had held onto about Phil were immediately forgotten. Dan smiled over at Phil and quickly checked his phone. It was 4:30am on the morning of December 12th, which meant Dan had 12 days to show Phil everything there was to know about Christmas, and to prove to the curious vampire that Christmas was really worth it. He pulled Phil into a gentle hug before looking at him sweetly.

“Of course! Don’t be silly, I’ll show you everything… well, maybe starting in a few hours. I’m absolutely exhausted.” Dan giggled. Phil nodded seriously. Dan looked concernedly at Phil: “Do you vampires sleep?”

“Yeah, but I’m really a night owl, haha! Don’t worry though. You can get some rest, and I’ll stake out plans on the couch out here.” Phil said saluting Dan causing him to smirk and laugh heartily. But after he calmed his giggles, he reached his hand out to Phil.

“Nonsense! You can come sleep with me.”

____________

There were 12 days left until Christmas, so how had it just now occurred to Dan that he hadn’t gotten his tree set up? Over brunch he attempted to explain to Phil that decorating was a ~KeY eLemEnT~ of the Christmas holidays. “But why?!” Phil whined like a child. “I don’t understand what’s so important about another glorified houseplant, especially a fake one!”

Dan shrugged pulling out his phone trying to Google an answer. “I dunno… says something here about the Germans starting it… apparently the sparkling stars inspired the lights and shit.” Dan mumbled through bites of food. Phil groaned, still unsatisfied with Dan’s answer.

“Here, maybe after we set it up it’ll make more sense.” Dan tried, still unsure of how to explain it. Dan stood up and threw his plate in the sink before heading to a storage closet near the back of the flat. After some rummaging, he finally found the tree covered securely in trash bags with a box full of baubles and a string of lights resting close by. Dan struggled to move everything at once, but damn it all if he had to make two trips. Phil rushed over with impossible speed and took some of the load from Dan’s tired hands.

“Just thought you could use some help. Don’t want Christmas to kill you… well at least until I learn more about it!” Phil joked and Dan playful bumped his shoulder with the boxes in defense.

“Well thanks, then! Glad I’m only around for your amusement!” Dan laughed, as he set down the box in the living room, and started to untwist the seemingly endless tangle of lights.

“Well of course that’s why I keep you around!” Phil giggled as he smiled sitting down next to Dan while attempting to untangle the other end of the string. Of course it was nothing, but Dan couldn’t help but notice Phil’s feet lightly touching his as they worked together in joyful laughter. It sent a chill down his body at first as it took some adjusting to being next to Phil’s constantly cold body, but soon it felt comfortable and almost necessary that they be touching while they worked. Dan enjoyed Phil’s presence next to his body. It was very rare that someone visited him at home, and having another person there (even a half-living one) was definitely an upgrade. Phil’s presence in general made Dan’s heart flutter a little. Dan realised how much he hated being alone especially in the dreary months of winter. Phil seemed to fill that void that always crept up on him every year as the holidays approached. It was pleasant.

As they finished hanging the last colored bauble on the tree, it was already starting to get dark. “Okay Phil, this is the best part!” Dan said, reaching for Phil’s hand. The cool touch no longer scared him, but invigorated him with pleasure. He pulled Phil’s body a few steps backwards, placing him at just the right angle. “Okay, now don’t move a muscle!” Dan laughed as he rushed to turn off the lights. He slowly waltzed back over to the tree, and gracefully plugged the string of lights into the wall.

The house was alive with light. The tree sparkled in a rainbow of tinsel and baubles, and the strings of white light they had placed around the house looked almost like the same stars Dan had Googled that morning. Dan, blushing, turned around to see Phil’s expression and found him crying softly. “Is everything alright Phil?” Dan asked with worry, going to hug the shorter boy. Phil nodded quietly, still staring at the tree before looking up to smile at Dan.

“I understand. It’s beautiful.” Phil declared, not letting Dan go a bit.

____________

Christmas was fast approaching, and with only a week remaining, Dan decided (maybe a little over-ambitiously) to bake some cookies to take over to his parents place. Dan had told Phil about his family’s meetup every Christmas, and had even pondered the idea of Phil coming with him. Of course, he hadn’t told Phil about this yet. If it were to happen, he wanted it to be a surprise.

The two boys walked to the grocery store quickly, bundled up in layers to shield themselves from the chill. Phil told Dan he didn’t really need it as vampires were already always freezing, but Dan figured it was best to blend in to not cause attention. Dan didn’t have any of the necessary ingredients to make the promised cookies, so a trip had been absolutely necessary. This was the first time they had gone anywhere in public together, and Dan was afraid of what people would say if Phil was discovered. What would people think of a Feeder camping out with a Normie?

However, Phil seemed to blend in well enough in the large crowds. As they walked in the store Dan became giddy with excitement, and tugged on Phil’s jumper. “Listen, Phil. That right there is a prime example of the trash they play for about a month before Christmas. Ah, the infamous Christmas music has once again become unavoidable!”

Phil frowned. “Oh hush Dan! This song is actually really nice! What’s it called? Who sings it?”

“This, my friend is ‘All I Want for Christmas’ by Mariah Carey: the queen of Christmas music royalties!” He laughed. Phil pushed him lightly, and kept humming the tune as they wandered through the aisles. The shopping went surprisingly quickly even with the lines, and they managed to make it home without any trouble. Almost…

“Ugh, how disturbing!” Dan heard a woman around 30 mumble. From a distance, he could see she was holding a young child close to her, and he saw her glancing over at him and Phil. “I can’t believe they still let Feeders out during the daytime.” she said passively. Dan clenched his fist about ready to go over there and teach that woman a lesson, but then he felt Phil rest a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not worth it, Dan. Please don’t worry. We’re nearly back at the apartments anyway, and people are entitled to their opinions, no matter how cruel.” Dan, still fuming, turned around to see the face of a man who was absolutely defeated. He could tell Phil had gone through this many times before and that trying to do anything about the situation would probably just make things worse. So instead, he grabbed Phil’s hand giving it a tight squeeze marching both of them triumphantly back to their apartment.

“Come on, Phil.” He said, raising his voice a few levels. “Let’s get out of here. We have Christmas cookies to make!” He felt Phil squeeze his hand back, and heard him whisper a soft ‘thank you’ through a smile.

____________

It was now only a day before Christmas and Dan had managed to procrastinate packing for his parent’s yet again. As he violently tried to shove his things into the bag, he checked it over again to make sure he hadn’t accidently grouped the two train tickets into the jumble of clothing. He smiled in relief seeing them still laying on the bed where he had left them.

“Dan, have you seen that nice shirt of mine that we bought? I swore I left it in the bathroom…” Phil mumbled as he walked into the bedroom half naked, only covered by a few towels around his waist, head, and neck. Dan smiled involuntarily at the presence of the vampire, and giggled as he threw him the shirt laying on the dresser.

“You left it in here, you twat!” Dan said rolling his eyes with mock sarcasm. Catching, the shirt, Phil smiled half-heartedly before thanking Dan softly and going to change. Dan looked after him concernedly. Something was wrong, but he didn’t quite know what. Maybe Phil didn’t really want to go with him to his parents’ after all. He had, in fact, kinda forced it on him…

Dan hurriedly zipped up the case, and grabbed all his gifts in tow to the living room. He quietly snuck into the room, and saw an exhausted looking Phil laying on the couch. He looked paler than normal and had his eyes closed, head nuzzled deeply into a pillow. Even though Dan thought he looked adorable all cuddle up in a ball, he knew that something was definitely not okay. He stepped in place loudly, to feign his entrance into the room. “Everything okay Phil?” He said dearly, as Phil quickly sat up pretending nothing was wrong.

“Oh yeah, of course Dan! Let’s go!” He said cheerily as he grabbed his own bag from the kitchen and the tickets from Dan’s hand. Dan shook his head knowingly, but if Phil didn’t want to bring it up, then Dan wasn’t going to pry. The two rushed out the door towards the loading bay. Although Dan wasn’t in shape, he was beating Phil to the station by a few meters. Phil was much more in shape (being a vampire and all) so it was strange he was lagging behind. As they made it to the station, it was still around a half hour before sunset, so Phil would be allowed on the train.

“Hurry Phil!” Dan said worriedly. If they missed the train, they wouldn’t be able to take another one till morning, as the Feeders weren’t allowed on night rides. Some silly rule to keep them from hurting Humans, Dan supposed. But when Dan turned around, Phil was not hurrying. Instead he was bent to the ground in pain. “Oh my God.” Dan said paling almost as much as Phil was. He dropped his packages in the middle of the loading bay, and rushed to Phil’s side. “God Phil, cut the crap and tell me what’s wrong.” Dan begged tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. He rested his hand softly on Phil’s cheek, rubbing it softly with his fingers.

“I’m low on sugars… really really low.” Phil murmured embarrassedly as tears flowed from his own eyes. “Y-you didn’t have anything sugary enough, and I knew we didn’t have time for me to stop and get a drink anywhere, and I-I thought it would be fine, but it’s not and now I feel like I’m going to die!” Phil sobbed into Dan’s chest. Dan tried to shush him softly, but Phil was having none of it. “And now I’ve ruined your trip, and I was so excited to meet your family because… well because I’ve learned that’s what Christmas is. Sure, the trees, and the music, and the food and stuff are all important, but really it's being with people you love. For you, it’s your family, Dan. I wanted that so much. I wanted to enjoy Christmas with your family, Dan. I wanted to do it… with you.”

Dan was crying by now too. He had been contemplating an idea in his head for a few minutes now trying to decide if it was worth the risks, but he realized it was: for Phil. Dan didn’t know if he cared about anyone more in his life, even though they had only known eachother for a few days. He would risk anything for Phil: even his own life. Slowly he pulled one of his arms back from Phil, and gently rolled up the sleeve before displaying his bare wrist in front of Phil’s face. Phil looked up nervously, glancing at the small crowd that had formed around them. He shook his head defiantly. “No Dan. I can’t let you do this. There are risks. You could die… or you could be stuck like me… and being undead is so much worse.” Dan only shoved his arm closer as he wiped away tears with his other jumper sleeve.

“It’s safer if it’s my arm right?” Phil nodded. “This is the only way I can keep you from getting sicker. I trust you, Phil. You’re a good vampire, no screw it, an amazing guy. You know your limits, and I hate seeing you this way… Now hurry up and do it already or we’ll miss the train!” Dan said giggling and smiling sweetly at the boy. Phil contemplated for a moment before nodding and quickly bending down to meet Dan’s arm.

It felt like nothing more than a pinch: like getting a shot at the doctor or getting blood drawn for donation. In no more than 30 seconds, it was all over, and Dan saw the color returning back into Phil’s figure. A little blood dribbled slightly down his chin and onto the new shirt they’d bought him, but none of that matter to Dan when he saw Phil’s relieved smile. Phil’s eyes looked up and met Dan’s and for only a moment it seemed like the world stopped. For a split second it was only them. The crowd was gone and all that mattered was that Phil was okay.

“Last all-accepting train #231 is heading out now, please head to the station for departure!” The intercom blared, and Dan was released from his trance. Glancing once more at Phil to make sure he was alright, he quickly pulled the other man from the floor and rushed to grab his things. The pair made it to the gate in plenty of time, and headed into their seats. They smiled softly at each other while loading their bags in an overhead compartment, and Dan rested his hand inside Phil’s. Everything would have been perfect --

-- If that lady hadn’t noticed the red stains on Phil’s shirt and the blood still dripping slowly from Dan’s wrist. “I refuse to sit on the same train as this beast!”She screamed violently reaching out to her baby to pull him away from Phil. An attendant ran to try and comfort the woman, but she refused and even threatened to call the Minders on Phil for attacking Dan. Dan, still gripping tightly to Phil’s hand tried to explain to the woman what had happened, but the closer they got, the tighter she clung to her phone and the more she threatened to get Phil taken away. The only option seemed to be for the pair to stay behind.

In her defense, the attendant did offer Dan and Phil another ticket for a morning train, and full compensation and benefits for all future travels, but it still left Dan and Phil stuck at an emptying train station. To make matters worse, they refused to let Phil leave the building since it was already past dusk. Dan used some highly profane language, but nothing seemed to change the station’s mind. After hours of arguing with official after official, the pair finally resigned the fight, and sat alone together on a bench in the empty tube station.

“You can go home if you want, Dan. Or just take a night train. I can meet you first thing in the morning.” Phil pleaded with Dan over and over, but Dan shook his head every time.

“Don’t you get it you twat?” Dan said, half seriously and half not, “I could never leave you here alone. You just mean too much to me now.” Dan smiled.

“Whatever, Danny boy!” Phil giggled. “I give up!” he said resting his head in the crook of the living boy’s neck. He rubbed Dan’s arm softly, inspecting the two pin-sized dots he had left from earlier. “I’m so sorry… It didn’t hurt too much did it?”

Dan shook his head softly. “Nah it was fine. I was just so worried about you, so maybe that reduced the pain or something.” The two sat in silence for a moment before the furious sound of ringing bells came from the tower near the bay. It was midnight. “Hey look. Merry Christmas!” Dan said sarcastically, nearly defeated. “Sorry I couldn’t make Christmas perfect for you, Phil.” He mumbled rubbing his fingers across Phil’s back.

“What are you talking about?!” Phil laughed. “It’s been perfect. I loved our little tree, and baking cookies together, and Mariah Carey is my life now!” He giggled making Dan smile a bit. “But you were the most perfect part about it. I’ve never had someone stick up for me before like you have. And saving me like that… you’re so selfless and sweet to me even after all the trouble I’ve caused you… God you’re so perfect, and I love you!” Phil declared before clamping his hands over his mouth. “Did I say love? I mean… I don’t mean love... You’re just really great and I like that you --” But Phil couldn’t finish because Dan’s lips were softly pressed against his. The kiss wasn’t long at all, but there was so much tenderness in it, that it might as well have lasted for hours. Dan slowly pulled himself away looking down at Phil whose face was currently blushing next to his own.

“Don't worry, Phil. I love you too.” Dan said, ready to face Christmas, and every day yet to come with this beautiful little vampire by his side.

#Dpss2k16 #spark-writes #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

What I've been looking for

To: @normalness-leadstosadness

He´d gone over the program about a million times. Dan was supposed to meet with Phil to practice at 8 am, but he got there two hours before. It was 5 p.m. now and his feet were sore, his back was aching, his butt was wet from falling on the ice so many times, and he was getting ready to start the program one more time. When the music played, Dan stopped controlling his movements. His mind and his body lost connection. Every jump was a part of him at that point, the competition disappearing from his mind. There was only one thing that he could think about.

I can feel his stare digging into my body. He looks at me with such intensity, I just…I have to show him that I can do it. He probably thinks I’m just some weird kid that likes food way too much. I need to change that…. He’s smiling, maybe he likes it. I need him to like it. He chooses to be here because of me, and I’ve got to make him proud.

When the music stopped he was out of breath, his brown hair over his eyes. He looked to his left, where Phil had been sitting, but the chair was empty.

“The last jump was better, maybe you should try it with a hand up next time,” Dan turned around and found a pair of big blue eyes smiling widely. When Phil said that, the younger boy’s eyes lit up proud of himself.

“But, there’s something missing” Phil continued, “you’re doing it fine, but you’re movements…they’re too soft and sweet. That’s not what this choreography is about. You’re m not communicating anything,”

Dan’s face dropped. He stared blankly at Phil. He’d been working his ass off for this, to make Phil proud. He learned to do things he tried to do for years. Since the day Phil showed up at his house Dan realized that he needed to make sure that Phil wouldn’t regret his decision. Dan knew everyone wanted Phil to keep skating, and that he had to be great so that everyone wouldn’t hate him. Dan didn’t understand why Phil decided to be his coach, but he knew that the responsibility that came with that was too big, and he had to make Phil proud.  He’d been working so fucking hard, and even though Dan knew Phil didn’t mean any harm he couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt.

“W-what do you mean?” The younger stuttered after a moment; his voice soft and shy.

“We’ve talk about this before. Eros, sexual love. It’s supposed to be strong and mysterious. You have to make everyone in the room look at you, want you.”  Phil’s voice went deeper with every word, and Dan blushed.

“I-I just don’t think I can do that. I’m not like that. People don’t…want me,” Phil smirked and took a step closer to the other boy before answering.

“You have it in you, Dan. I can see it

“I really don’t.”

#dpss2k16 #normalness-leadstosadness #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

Fix: A Fic For Tati

To: @dilhowlter1991

A speculative phanfic (are those a thing?) based on the premise that Phil first contacted Dan way back in 2009 for more unscrupulous and selfish reasons. This is the product of a lot of wishful and derailed thinking.

Title: Fix Tags: Mentions of non-explicit sexual interaction and an explicitly-banned video; Phil makes questionable decisions; Some fluff; A whole lot of angst

I hope you have fun reading it! (for now, disregard the {bracketed numbers} until the end!)

|| 2016 || 7 ||

In London, two men of some note dwelled. Tucked away in a small little road lined with identical grey-brick buildings. Squat little things, arranged in neat and tidy rows. Two ranks of foot soldiers, filed and ready to march into battle. Behind one window of many was a tiny square. Aglow with the warm flush of light and painted in vivid technicolour by the assortment and array of indiscernible knick-knacks.

And there, in the centre of a gentle calming storm of possessions — but more importantly: belonging — sat the two. Men of note. Some. Reclined, comfortable, and doing exactly what they did best.

“Any TATINOF spoilers yet?” Phil asked.

“Mm, not yet.” Dan turned his laptop for Phil to see. “Although there is a video of us ‘kissing’ behind the screen.”

“Was it in Toronto?” Phil asked, leaning over to glimpse the 10-second clip, and the city in the title. “Oh, wait, not that. Never mind then.”

A half-smile quirked at Dan’s lips. “‘Obviously they aren’t’,” he read from the notes and replies. “‘They’re always so careful, do you think they’ll fuck up? In public? With thousands of fangirls watching question-mark question-mark question-mark?’”

“They give us too much credit.”

Dan scrolled past. Now and then he quipped through the silence with a comment or a quote that had gotten his attention.

“‘Who got the room in the bus in the end? They both said yes when asked.’”

“‘Two tall nerds on one bus, what a nightmare.’”

“‘Damn Daniel, back at it again with the light-up shoes.’”

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that one yet!” Phil crossed his arms. “You could have gotten one for me too.”

“I don’t know your shoe size,” Dan deflected expertly. “And you have bigger feet.”

As Phil watched, a sly smile unfurled over Dan’s lips. He could practically hear the words before they had even tumbled. “And you know what they say about bigger feet,” he said for him, rolling his eyes even as his own lips twitched.

Dan edged closer, sliding his laptop far from the couch. Safe from harm’s way. He closed his eyes, and found Phil’s cheek unerringly in the darkness behind his eyelids to guide him into a chaste kiss they both knew well. “God help me, if you say ‘big socks’, I’ll sock you.”

~~~~~~

|| 2009 || 3 ||

Phil slammed into Dan. Dan, in turn, slammed into the wall by the door. Never once pulling away, Phil reached out and flung it shut. Against the jamb it shook, rattling the hollowed house with it. Giants’ footsteps roared, but Phil’s door bellowed loudest.

“Eager,” Dan broke away to laugh. There was a heat in his voice that came from the southward rush of blood, from the fire in his lungs that ate away his air and shortened his breaths to small, undignified whines. His hands rested lightly against Phil’s chest, but his knuckles and palms arched away from the green plaid shirt, as though he feared one touch too earnest, one brush too free — and gone Phil would be. A mirage, disappeared, the product of a feverish nocturnal imagination driven to distraction by overwhelming, unanswered want.

Phil tipped his forehead closer, swayed his hips — knowing, aware — and grazed the front of his jeans with Dan’s. From their hair, to their clothes, to their arousal, they matched. They could have been mirror images. They could have been completely incorporeal except to each other. Insular in this room that had grown with Phil, every inch plastered with posters and personality. Home to one boy, and temple to another. “You make me that way.”

He didn’t hide his smirk from Dan’s answering tremble. His bottom lip quivered — delicious — and his knees shook so hard, they knocked. He didn’t reply. Only leaned forward, and poured everything he had into Phil with surprising surety.

And Phil — treacherous, conniving man that he was — Phil let him.

The guilt would haunt him for years.

~~~~~~

|| 2016 || 6 ||

“You’re beautiful.”

Once upon a time, that might have earned him a blush, perhaps a giggle if he had purred the words and yanked Dan closer with greedy, grabbing hands. A little after once-upon, and Phil would only have invited a scowl and a scoff if he’d dared utter two simple words. They might as well have been fuck you.

The statement never changed, the sentiment never wavered. Through the years all that had shifted was Dan. He was a riptide current, the push-and-pull of the water beneath the frothing waves. Temperamental. Unpredictable. Loath to pull innocents from the near shore, and then send them back floating with the tiniest crash and wave, as though to say, Thank you for playing with me! Come back once all the water has been pumped from your lungs!

Loath to pull victims from the shore on other days, and never return them.

Not one crash. Not one wave. The murmur of running water the throaty gurgle of death. The softest demolition, the quietest robbery.

Now, however, Dan swept Phil’s fringe from sleep-prickled eyes, so that he could see Dan smile a blurry smile from where he hovered over Phil. His lips turned upwards. Very different from his frowns. Phil had been quick to learn and discern. “Should it distress me that you only say this in the morning? When you’ve just woken up?”

“Hey, if I think your flesh-coloured blobs look good to me in the morning, guess how blown-away I get the rest of the day when I actually have vision?”

“If flesh-coloured blobs are what do it for you, then we need to have a talk.”

Phil framed Dan’s face with his hands, pressing his cheeks and squishing his features into a pliant muddle. “This flesh-coloured blob in particular. Only this one, and none else.”

Dan burst out laughing. It was a hearty laugh — a hyena’s cackle. He threw his head back, and his chest rose and fell quickly and painfully with the straits of his laughter. They never faltered once, even as Phil rolled them over and eased Dan’s back against the mattress.

His eyes — brown as ever, closely indistinguishable from the slashes of chocolate of his hair — peered up at Phil in narrow slits, scrunched into small creases and wrinkles by the laugh-lines carved into his face that winged his eyelids.

“You know, it probably doesn’t translate when I’m speaking,” Phil said, “but when I wake up and see you, I happen to be counting my blessings. Me commenting on you really means I’m lucky to have been your choice too.”

The crinkles below him deepened imperceptibly. By the corner of his mouth, dimples sprang from his chin. Phil felt a hand curl around his neck, and stroke the fine down along his nape. “Phil the poet,” Dan whispered.

He smiled and leaned down to punctuate each word with a kiss. As though, by the power of mere insistence, he could stamp the truth beneath Dan’s skin “You’re. Beautiful.”

~~~~~~

|| 2009 || 1 ||

Phil, when he wanted to be, was a proficient stalker

He looked at the boy’s profile, and could almost swear that was his own hair, cropped and photoshopped expertly to frame another’s face. It suited him. Brown to brown. Complementary. His messages were nice too. But all of them were. A mailbox full of praises and clamouring voyeurs. Nothing special, except say in the staggering rate at which this one boy spewed them out. A comment on every video, issued with lightning speed. It had to be a record of some kind.

Next, he scrolled through his profile. He was young, 18. Phil’s intrigue piqued at that. They shared so many interests, so many commonalities. They listened to the same music, were mad for the same computer games. It was as though this boy had been planted in the stadium below his videos, just so Phil could stumble upon him and remark on their similarities. Coincidental collision. If you were lucky, you could walk from it alive.

Phil flicked his fingers, to read the boy’s name. Dan Howell. Lover of Muse, player of MarioKart, viewer of AmazingPhil. Quick succinct person. Personality compact, nothing garrulous. Phil found that charming.

“He could be a madman,” Phil mused, pretending to hover over indecision for the show of it. “He could skin me alive or sell me on eBay.” A strange risk, a minor risk. A risk he could take and laugh at.

So he clicked the message button. Dashed out words, smattered with emoticons and cheery symbols. Closed the window, folded his arms behind his head, and waited for a pretty boy like Dan Howell to snap the bait.

~~~~~~

|| 2012 || 4 ||

When it happened, the day was quiet. Unlikely, for the two new inhabitants of a London flat with thin wallets and even thinner tempers. But the day had been quiet. Phil should have seen it for what it was: the calm before the storm.

“The fucking V-Day video again,” Dan had blustered when the clock was just shy of lunch. “Come on, we’re talking tactics now.”

For hours, they had sat at the table. War generals presiding over a battle they had already lost. But Dan was belligerent. He would not emerge from the bunker without a plan, and Phil — complicit as his partner — must be there to talk through contingencies, to iron out the flaws of his logic and conceive an elaborate hoax that could make thousands of fans forget.

As it was, Dan’s power and will alone were enough to slog their ankles through a shit-fest of their own making. They formed an alibi. (It was an April Fool’s prank too cruel for the public eye. Phil was supposed to do it as a joke, wasn’t he, Phil?) They scoured it from the Internet. (“It’s not enough to just delete it from your channel. You have to report the copies. Get any reproductions taken off with a copyright claim. There. See?”) Dan was particularly scathing towards the asks that exploded his inbox. For perhaps a moment he transformed into a bona fide Vernon Dursley. Astounded by the flurries of mail, almost reduced to catatonics as he sputtered and devised empty response after hollow reply.

In the middle of a storm of lies, Phil took Dan by the elbow. “Dan, I need to tell you something.”

~~~

Two boys who had reached through their computer screens and plucked the other’s heart. Their’s was the stuff of legends, of folklore and romantics. Boys who had stumbled across each other on an infinite web, and decided to spend their finite lives with each other in an infinite universe.

Phil never knew why he did what he did. Why he grabbed Dan’s arm, propped up a spine already bent by the tribulations of reality, and burdened him with truth. Perhaps watching Dan spin his lies while the day slipped from them like youth tired him. Perhaps being privy to Dan’s slow ruthless drive through a scalding desert of untruths convinced him a sip of honesty might just save his friend — because that was what they were now.  It was all they could be. Friends, only friends. Regressed, but friends.

Or…perhaps…he had seen Dan tear down everything they had built together. Seen the ease with which he could demolish their legacy and past, towers and mountains they had built together, scaled together — and paint it over with cheap replications and flat tales that dishonoured the path they shadowed. Watched, helpless, as Dan succumbed to pixels scrambled into images and words and reduced their three years of companionship and trust into a fangirl’s wet dream. Dan, perhaps unknowingly, perhaps unaware, mocked all they had propped up between them with his tirade, before Phil’s eyes.

He saw Dan destroy their world with furore and an inlaid calm and thought to help him do it just the slightest bit faster.

~~~

Phil could not remember when they migrated from the sofa to the carpet. Perhaps somewhere between his second attempt at explaining and Dan’s first wail of anguish. He wondered if birds meant to soar far and travel the world were prone to that same disorienting jolt, of discovering themselves planted suddenly in the wrong scenery after instinct and evolutionary predisposition returned their will to them once again. If they flapped their wings with epiphany and, remembering the miles they had flown under duress of nature, thought: Huh. So that’s why my wings are sore.

And, if so, if the fear and dawning realisation that glittered in their bead-eyes resembled anything like the sporadic spurts of implausible emotion in Dan’s own eyes.

“You’re saying…we only met, because you were horny?”

This was old hat. They had gone through this so many times before. “No, Dan, that’s not all I’m say— ”

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like it!”

Tired, cantankerous, and exasperated, Phil threw down his hands. Threw down the gauntlet. Ran the gauntlet. “I took a risk, Dan — when I answered your messages and let you in my house!”

Blow one. Make Dan seem any modicum of desperate. He hated that. Hated the aspersion that he could possibly need anyone else. That he could text Phil, nudge Phil, once more than he strictly needed to grasp his attention. Lone wolves let the void swallow their howls once, and after that became mute. Why announce his solitude? Why parade it for the moon to hear?

Dan ground his teeth. Phil could hear it. It sounded like minced bones, like a record screeching silently, distantly. “A risk, did you?” Another imaginary sound. It sounded like ceramic shattering. Hold a clay heart in your hands, hurl it to the ground. Watch it explode in shards and blood and see its ghost leave in a drift of smoke and dust, like huffed-away trust. “I took a risk, that you could break my heart.” A dam broke. Water glittered in Dan’s eyes. Phil was reminded of chemistry experiments in school laboratories, remembered hunching over a steady teardrop flame, willing yellow crystals to wink their firsts in the evaporating dish balanced delicately on the tripod.

Blow two. Make Dan cry. “I took a fucking risk too. I just didn’t know it,” he spat, dashing tears from his eyes even as they fell. Drip, drip. Too copious to well, too heavy to cling to his eyelashes.

“Dan, I didn’t — ”

“No.”

He whirled around, and stalked towards the door. His face was scrunching up, like a paper someone had balled up with crunching, crushing crinkles, ready to pitch towards the waste basket. Thoughtlessly. Already poised to forget. His footsteps echoed through the apartment. The slam of his door sliced through the night’s quiet even more sharply. Alone in the living room, bereft, like a ship left in the harbour and then abandoned for decades, Phil stood. Perhaps he was waiting, perhaps he was frozen. Perhaps he was dreaming, and any moment now…

Blow three. See Dan cry.

~~~~~~

|| 2009 || 2 ||

Phil was jittery, and he had no idea why. No reason at all, officer. I’m dressed in plaid and ready to get laid.

He had planned to leave at seven and stroll to the station in an hour.

It was six-fifty, and he had changed his shirt (twice), combed his hair, then mussed it back up deliberately. He had lain back on his bed three times — a modest estimation — and gotten back up another three. He had prowled the empty house on tip-toe, waiting, almost, for his parents to spring from cupboards and shadows and say, What have we said about stranger danger? And on the Internet too! Young man, you are in for it now!

But no mothers popped, no fathers jumped. It was as though all those nights messaging and Skyping Dan Howell had allayed all doubts of his authenticity. No murderous stalker would leave a digital trail of his obsession like a smear on the Internet. No, this was the dedication of a soft-spoken, enthralled fan, nothing more.

Three minutes to seven.

So why did Phil still scratch at his (deliberately) messy hair? Why could he not keep the shiver from his knees, the gooseflesh from his neck? He felt as though he were teetering on the precipice of a cliff, as though he had climbed so high to reach the summit, and only know realised what he had to lose.

“I could…” Phil began to mutter. He could what? “Lose my life?” The words lilted in a song, a questionable song, and the autumn chill in the house shook its breezy head at them. No, no, quite wrong, Phillip Michael. Not right at all. “Be robbed?” Quite wrong, quite wrong. “Get an STD?”

Nooooo, moaned the drafty air into the shell of his ears. Noooooooo.

He paced the house, his bag slung across him. This was a question with only one answer, and he had never been one to ask too many. His hand was on the door-knob, ready to leave, when the possibility occurred to him. Transpired in the slight mist of his breath and tremble of his fingers against cold metal. Dropped into his arms like a gift from heaven. “I could…fall in love.”

The autumn air fell quiet at last.

It’s just physical, Phillip wanted to protest. It will mean absolutely nothing.

The autumn air did not respond.

This was not his intention. Never had been. From the moment he had first replied to Dan Howell’s fervent messages and comments, there had been just one endgame in mind — and it had been a short-lived one. Of heavy breaths and stuttering hips. Of air warmed by two bodies and the motion of harmony in lust. This. This did not factor into his plans at all. It got too easily tangled in what was meant to be precisely without strings.

He could cancel. Pretend there was a cousin’s wedding (second-removed cousin) out of town, and his parents were dragging him along. Send regretful emoji after regretful emoji, and send Dan Howell far away from his little home by Piccadilly. Return him to the flat square box in the arena below his videos, and keep him there this time. He could walk away from this risk, and the world would be none the wiser.

I could fall in love. He whispered the words to himself again. I could. He could make me. He’s jumped the cliff way before I ever scaled the top. He could grab me and pull me off the rock. We could fall, and plummet, and hit the ground. A mess of broken bones, and no one to dust us off. We don’t have wings; we don’t have anything. I could fall in love, and that’s a dangerous thing to do.

Phil swivelled his eyes downward. His hand still clenched the knob, gripping for ground whipped from beneath his feet.

The knob wielded beneath his fingers. He pushed through the door, a minute behind time, but that was inconsequential. He walked, the wind in his sails. Summer was gone and frost waited at the fringes of their little town, waiting to descend and strike a chill into the hearts of quiet residents. But until then, the autumn air was fresh and exciting. It wound its tendrils through Phil’s hair and lent him, distinctly, the feeling of darting headlong into what could only be, an adventure.

~~~~~~

|| 2012 || 5 ||

“Dan? Dan, I screwed up. I’m sorry! I royally screwed up. Dan. Come on.”

The word ‘wife’ is debated to have originated from Proto-Indo-European means. It might have come from ghwibh, derived from a word meaning ‘shame’.

......

“Dan. I swear, it’s all different now. I was so stupid, and so immature back then. Please. Believe me.”

Maturation of the psychological kind doesn’t really begin, generally, until age 24.

......

“Dan, will you never speak to me again?”

There is an anechoic chamber in Minnesota. It might be the quietest place on earth. No one can endure more than 45 minutes in it.

It’s been four days since. Phil hasn’t heard his voice in so long.

…...

“Dan, please. Speak to me. Scream at me. Something.”

“If I start screaming now, I’ll never stop. Are you sure you want that?”

“Yes. Yes! Oh, pl— ”

“Like hell you do.” Phil drew away from the door.

One of the most toxic poisons in the world is called ricin. A Bulgarian named Georgi Markov died from it.

He was exiled and assassinated in London.

…...

“Dan? It’s been a week. Please, Dan. Let me explain.”

“I don’t want any explanations. I am so sick, and tired, of looking for answers.”

“Dan — ”

“I just want one more.”

A withheld breath. An exhaled breath. Cheek against wood. Fingers scrabbling for purchase, for the reception to hold. Dreading when the connection collapsed, and he was left on the other side, clutching silence. “Yes, what is it?”

A withheld breath. A shaky breath. “We—We need so much fixing right now.” A pause. A recollection. “Do you promise to fix us? With me?”

Relief as an emotion was tangible. Palpable. It was fearsome, in the way it seemed to escape from his every pore and orifice. His own body overfilled with it. Relief felt like sweat and tears, in the middle of a drought. “Yes. Of course, Dan. Of course.”

Finally, he opened the door.

~~~~~~

Secret Rave Tree note: Hello, Tati! I’m sorry the fic is a bit scrappy ^^“ I really wanted to make it perfect for you, but I got a little busy. Just as a quick clarification, in case the timeline’s a bit messy, you can follow the numbers behind the year that heads each different section. The numbers mark the chronological order of the chapters (i.e. || 2009 || [1] would mean that section was the earliest event in the timeline) I wasn’t going to add the last 2012 part originally, but I needed to give ‘em some closure. I hope the new year has been good to you, and that you’ll have a great time! Ho-ho-ho-out

#dpss2k16 #dilhowlter1991 #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @cupcake-phil

From: Your Secret Santa

Special Message from your Santa:

Hello! Sorry if this isn’t how you wanted it to turn out (like if you wanted punk!dan or pastel!phil) if it isn’t I can always redo it,,,also sorry about the art style it looks a tad bit different because I drew them on different days ☺️I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year ⭐️

#dpss2k16 #cupcake-phil #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

Panic! at the Dan Flat

To: @tamingtheexistentialcrisis

Summary: Dan just wanted to get into his flat and feed his dogs, and he did, encountering some surprises inside. (wow, what a gREat summary)

Word Count: 1927

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Happy Holidays Sarah @tamingtheexistentialcrisis !!!! I know you wanted a fic pertaining dogs so here’s a fic containing only like 3 sentences about animals! Yay. I tried to make it revolve around animals but I barely accomplished it. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it, it may not be the best writing, because even after revising, it’s trash. Please enjoy x

“Fuck these keys,” Dan muttered under his breath, failing once again to find the right key to his flat. “Sure doesn’t help that they all look the same.” Letting out a strangled noise, Dan threw his set of keys to the ground before crumbling next to them, head in his hands. Attempting to calm down he began inhaling and exhaling, trying to find a rhythm.

“Maybe I can fit my ass through the dog door,” he joked, laughing glumly.

“No offense, but I think you may be a tad bit too big to fit through it,” a voice chuckled from above him.

Dan looked up, blushing in embarrassment as he saw none other than his neighbor, Phil, smirking down at him. Giving a small smile he replied, “None taken, sorry you have to see me like this,” gesturing towards his defeated state, “All my keys look the same and I can’t find the right one for my door, not to mention, I need to feed my dogs,” explaining his situation and nodding towards his keys.

Phil glanced at the troublesome keys, “Well no wonder you’re aggravated, why are they all silver?” he questioned. “And I’m sure you dogs will survive a few minutes.”

Dan gave him a confused look before huffing out, “What other color are they supposed to be, and no, they are very picky about being fed?”

“Here, have a look at mine,” Phil suggested, swinging his bag off his shoulder, Dan taking note that it had a nice galaxy print on it, and started digging around inside before producing his own set of keys. Dan instantly winced at the colorful bunch, “What even is that mess, how the hell does that help you?” he asked.

Phil laughed, “No key looks the same, so only one key can obviously go to one thing, such as this one,” Phil held up a blue key with the Adventure Time logo at the top, with Jake on one side of the key, and Finn on the other. “This key goes to my car, and it’s Adventure Time, like I’m going on an adventure every time I get into my car.” He explained, looking at Dan to see if he understood. Clearly he didn’t, as he was staring at Phil with a blank expression. This ushered Phil to continue. “Oh! And this one!” Phil exclaimed as his eyes lit up, “This I got customized, the majority of these are, of my cat to symbolize home. Speaking of my cat, I need to find her, she escaped this morning and she’s running ramped through the building somewhere. But back to keys, my cat is home to me, so that’s why she’s on the key. Sounds pathetic but it’s a good system and yeah,” Phil rambled before stopping to awkwardly look at Dan.

After a couple of seconds of silence had passed of them just staring at one another Dan interrupted it, brow furrowing, “Um, okay, sounds like a great system,” Sarcasm dripping in his voice, “But I highly doubt it would work for me,” Dan replied, pursing his lips.

Phil frowned, unlocking his door and swinging it open, stepping inside. Turning around he glared down at Dan before raising an eyebrow, “If we look at the situation, I’m not the one sitting in front of my apartment door having an existential crisis over some keys,” Phil promptly stated, turning back around and slamming his door shut behind him.

After the few seconds of initial shock wore off, Dan groaned putting his head in his hands once again, before uttering, “Hope you find your cat, you ass,” yet knowing that he was technically the one who provoked Phil’s lashing. He knew his neighbor was right and that Phil, one of the nicest and most attractive people in his apartment building, would never have said that to someone if they didn’t deserve it. But Dan was mad, and damn it to hell if he wasn’t going to be a bitch about it.

___________________________________________________________

5 minutes of trying every single key later, Dan had finally found his flat key. Pushing his way into his flat he sighed either out of past acknowledged defeat, victory, or relief, he honestly didn’t know. All Dan knew was that he was ready to feed his dogs, make some tea, and go to bed surrounded by fur(ries)(im joking). Nudging the door closed behind him, he rubbed his eyes and was puzzled as to why his dogs haven’t attacked him yet, normally they were always there to greet him at the door. Now that he thinks about it, they weren’t whining the entire time he sat outside his door, chatting with Phil.

Removing his hands from his eyes his heart stopped at what lay before him. What he thought he had draped on the back of a chair that morning, now lay in shredded remains no more than four feet in front of him. His Yeezy jumper. The one thing he treated as a child besides his dogs now lay in ruins on the carpet. Dan’s mind instantly flashed back to joking how it resembled a potato sack, but now, in its shredded form, it truly looked nothing more than a burlap sack. Dan picked up the garment, upon closer inspection, the sweater looks as though it had been created into a makeshift bed, to fit a small animal. Neither of his animals were small enough to fit on the sweater, with one being a medium-sized dog and the other being one of the biggest dog breeds, there was no doubt that this wasn’t their doing.

He grimaced and dropped the fabric, walking towards the kitchen while rubbing his temples. Had a raccoon gotten in? A squirrel? Badger? Putting aside what possible creature had decided to ruin his life, Dan opened up the cabinet to pull down the container of dog food. Put a healthy amount into both the bowls, “SAINT, PEPE, COME EAT,” he hollered, expecting his dogs to come, tails wagging. Confused, he stepped out to walk into the lounge.

If the jumper didn’t kill him, Dan was for sure this next disaster would. From top to bottom the side of his (faux) leather couch there were cuts that only small claws could create. Gasping, Dan didn’t know whether to fall to his knees or cry. The side of his couch looked as though it had went to hell and back, stuffing puffed out of the slits that had been created. Skinny skinny slits. From skinny skinny claws.

In full blown panic Dan called out for his dogs again, trudging down the hallways towards his open bedroom door, grumbling the whole way. Pushing his door open he didn’t know what to make of the scene. In the farthest corner of the room were his two dogs visibly quivering in fear, and sat on his bed, sat the culprit that Dan had guessed after seeing his couch. A cat. A cat. While Dan was angry, furious, at the disaster to his couch and shredded jumper, he was above all, surprised. His decent sized Shiba Inu, and fucking gigantic sized Leonberger were scared of a cat no longer than 12 inches. Hearing his one his dogs whimper he reassured them, “Shh, Saint, it’s okay,” going over to scratch the biggest dog’s head.

Dan let out another sigh before taking a couple tentative steps towards his bed, not sure of what this demon cat was capable of. The cat didn’t blink. Feeling accepted, he reached a hand out slowly, letting his hand pet it’s head and moving down to the cat’s neck, hoping to locate a collar. Finding one, he twisted it around to inspect the name tag.

Lion

Who names a cat lion? Is it some form of irony because it’s just a cat and not a lion? Because the cat’s fur is orange? Deciding to stop questioning the owners name choice, he read the address underneath the name. Letting out a groan and rolling his eyes, Dan recognized the address as none other than his neighbor, Phil’s. Of course. What are the odds.

“Let’s go you little shit,” scooping up the animal he walked out his room, whistling for the dogs to come eat. Snatching his jumper off the ground he swung his door open and stormed out, closing it gently so as not to startle Saint and Pepe. Mere feet from Phil’s door, Dan scowled. He advanced towards the door and started knocking furiously.

After only a few seconds, the door opened, revealing Phil wearing a silver jacet, as if he were just about to leave. Blue eyes widening even more than they already were, Phil’s face split into a grin. “You found her! Oh my god, thank you so much Dan, I was just about to go search for her!” He exclaimed, excitement clear on his face. He pulled Dan into a hug, Dan letting himself go limp at the contact before the cat decided to whine. Breaking away, Phil grabbed the cat from Dan’s arms, immediately cradling it. The cat purred and rubbed its head under Phil’s chin.

“I wouldn’t be so happy if I were you,” Dan remarked, he meant to say it in a ruder tone but Phil’s hug had startled him. Throwing his jumper at Phil’s face he explained, “Your cat, Lion, decided to visit me and give me the biggest surprise.” Phil examined the sweater remains, “Looks like you need to buy a new one mate,” He stated pointedly.

Dan smirked, “Nu-uh-uh Key Freak, looks like you need to buy a new one, mate,” jabbing Phil in the chest to emphasize his claim.

“Wh-How-Bu-Me?” Phil sputtered, perplexed by what Dan had said. Phil then frowned, “And I’m not a key freak, I just have a system.”

Dan chuckled, “Walk with me Key Boy, I have something else to show you.”

___________________________________________________________

“I’ll pay for it, I promise, all the damages Dan, I promise, I’ll buy you a whole new couch, and a new jumper, Lion must have escaped and went through your dog door and she must have went ballistic when she realized she couldn’t get back out,” Phil rambled, attempting to assure Dan that he would pay all the costs and that it would never happen again.

“Phil, Phil, Phil, it’s fine, I’ve cooled down. I’m not mad. I have enough money to replace everything,” Dan talked over Phil, trying to get him to stop talking.

Phil still had a guilty look on his face, “I’ll still find a way to repay you, whether it’s through little or small things. Also, why do you have a dog door? When both your dogs, especially Saint,” Phil gestured towards the larger dog, “Can’t fit through it? And why install one in an apartment building?”

Dan shrugged, “I have no idea, it was here when I moved in. You can start repaying me by ordering us some pizza and watching some TV with me, I haven’t had human interaction in half a year.” Laughing  Phil found the pizza number and began typing the numbers in, “Honestly, same.”

Dan smiled, filling with giddiness at the thought of Phil potentially becoming his friend, even if it was due to his cat trashing his most expensive things. Patting the spots next to him, Pepe jumped beside him, laying her head in his lap. Looking over his smile grew wider as he saw Phil subconsciously scratching Saint’s neck while he was ordering the pizza. Leaning his head back on the couch he closed his eyes in content.

A/N: The End! I know that entire beginning was not needed but I’m what the kids call extra. x

#Dpss2k16 #tamingtheexistentialcrisis #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

The Story of Us

to: @marianathehypertiredgirl

summary: you know us as Dan and Phil, internet icons. We know us as we are.

warning: tooth rotting, eye rolling, drool dripping fluff

words: 1,095

with love to a sweet person! happy holidays darling ♥

You all know us as Dan and Phil, the popular online duo that has not only individual channels with over six and four million subscribers, but also a gaming channel with over two million subscribers, a worldwide a tour, a book and so much more.

But to each other, we are just Dan and Phil, the best friends who live together and love each other unconditionally.

We are just normal dudes, bros, nerds that are so close that we always leave the world asking: are they or aren’t they?

Here’s your answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“PHIL! Why do you always leave all the cupboard doors open?!?!”

Sometimes I literally cannot DEAL with this boy. He just walks around leaving all the cupboard doors open, spilling every single thing on the counters, and then stubbing his toe on the kitchen door. How has he survived this far in his life???

“I’m sorry Dan! I was looking for the Hello Kitty cup and I couldn’t find it”

“Oh my GOD Phil I told you not to drink from that! The coffee splashes up a-“

“AHHHHHH MY LIP IS BURNING DAN I AM DYING HELP ME!”

This freaking spork, I have told him countless times not to use that cup but nooo, does he ever listen to me?

“Phillip Michael Lester, give me that cup back right now so I can PLACE IT ON THE HIGHEST SHELF ALL THE WAY IN THE BACK SO YOU CAN NEVER EVER BURN YOURSELF AGAIN!”

“Awwww Dan, you really do care about me! I love you!”

I won’t lie, the sudden confession of love made me blush a little.

“AHHHH I’M BURNING WHEN WILL THIS TORTURE END!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was freezing. Like actually freezing. Our heat wasn’t working on one of the coldest nights in the history of London.

Okay maybe not, but it really was freezing!

Phil and I were sat by the fire, with the blaze burning at full capacity, but the heat just wasn’t coming through to us. I moved closer to the fire and sat on the carpet with my blanket cape, but I had not expected the sudden movement behind me.

Phil was suddenly sitting right next to me, our sides touching as we both huddled close to the fire. I suddenly felt warmth I had definitely not felt before, and it wasn’t just because of the fire.

Phil had draped his blanket over the both of us, and his arm was draped around me.

I felt the heat radiating from his body to mine, as his hand rested gently on my waist. I wanted to do nothing more than lean my head on his shoulder, and let myself be pulled in.

So I did.

I had never felt such a peace come over me.

Sure, this wasn’t something strange for friends to do, but I felt something more than just friendship.

I felt Phil’s fingers squeeze my side ever so gently, and I lifted my head to look up at him.

My eyes met those beautiful eyes, full of the ocean.

I was captivated when his lips touched mine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Finally, it was spring.

I loved the weather outside, although it was still cold, but there was definitely a sweet smell in the atmosphere. The flowers were blooming!

“Phil Phil Phil Phil Ph-“

“DANIEL WHAT I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!”

“BUT PHIL FLOWERS! Can we please go to that beautiful field of flowers we found last year?? I bet they’re all in bloom and I just want to lay in the field and take some #aesthetic selfies! Pleaseeeeee?”

“No one says the word ‘hashtag’ IRL Dan. Calm down.”

“IS THAT A YES???”

“Fine, we’ll go!”

The field was beautiful. It was full of marigolds, one of my very favorite flowers. The smell was intoxicating, and I loved the random wild flowers growing in between the golden waves.

I was just lying in the flower beds, taking in the sweet scents and the rare England sunshine.

This was my happy place. The past year had been so crazy; it felt as though Phil and I were always busy doing one thing or another. If we weren’t writing the book, we were practicing for the tour. If we weren’t doing either of those, we were trying to film videos for our channels to put out some quality content.

It was really nice to take a moment to simply feel content. I had never imagined that I would be in this place in my life.

It was even sweeter to know that I had such a special person to share it with. Phil was the best friend that I could ever imagine having.

He was there with me through everything; he loved me even when it was hard for me to love myself.

Phil was my anchor, and I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone.

He came to lay down beside me, our fingertips touching ever so slightly.

“Phil, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Dan. Anything at all.”

“Thank you. For everything. For being my first best friend, for taking care of me when I had no idea what to do with my life, for always being my reality check.”

“Dan…that’s what friends are for! I care about you a lot and I have to thank you as well for putting up with my craziness and weirdness. You’re always there for me. And I love that about you. I love everything about you.”

“Phil I…I love you too. So much.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Little steps padded across the carpet, with the urgency that hunger usually brings.

A little unsteady, but rushed nonetheless.

The footsteps padded towards the couch, where two people were sitting peacefully, one of them reading while cuddling with the other one, who seemed to be endlessly scrolling.

“Awwww hey little guy! Look at you, made it all the way over to us! So proud of you buddy!”

“Phil, isn’t it time to feed him?”

“Oh, you’re right!“

“I’ll go get the kibble, could you wash the bowl?”

“Yes sir!”

The little husky puppy sauntered over to Dan, who was grabbing the kibble from underneath the cabinet, and peered over at Phil, who was washing the bowl.

Dan saw the puppy staring curiously at Phil, and stated softly,

“Yeah, little guy, I know he’s the best. I think so too.”

Woof woof!

Phil came over, having heard what Dan said, and dropped a quick kiss on Dan’s head, and then bent down to kiss the little fur ball too, while tactfully avoiding being licked.

“Love you too.”

"We are so #domestic.”

“DANIEL!!!”

#dpss2k16 #marianathehypertiredgirl #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @devilishd529

Summary: Phil’s an angel, and his job is to help keep the peace and make lives better, which would have been a lot easier if there weren’t also demons. Dan dresses in black, leathery wings and seems to be causing a lot of problems that Phil’s tired of fixing.

Word Count: 1269

Genre/tags: Angel!Phil, Demon!Dan, fluff (pretty much)

Warnings: none!

A/N: This is the phan secret santa present for @devilishd529! I hope you like– I based this off of your url and profile pic :) Shout-out to hot chocolate, which was my sole source of fuel during the writing of this, besides being my favorite drink ever. Also thankyou thankyou thankyou to @kiroujiswonderland for hosting this another year <3 You’re absolutely amazing!

“Alright, yes, pick up the cup,” a soft voice whispered as the black-haired girl wrapped her fingers around the styrofoam cup, now only halfway filled with what looked like apple juice. “Good good, now aim–”

“No!” Phil crashed through the open doorway, stumbling past a gaggle of girls. His wings clumsily folded behind him as he took in the scene: a girl, furious, her liquid weapon ready to launch across the room. Behind her, a barely visible boy sat on the counter, and something about him unnerved Phil, even as he shook off the feeling and willed himself unnoticeable.

Phil sprinted towards the black-haired girl, mind focused as her revengeful thoughts streamed, tangible only to him–and maybe, Phil worried, maybe to that suspicious brown-haired boy sitting meditatively while whispering.

“Don’t dump it, don’t dump it!” Phil urged, brushing other thoughts aside, “What a waste!”

The black-haired girl pursed her lips, seeming to pause for a moment, and set the cup back down on the table. Already, her target had moved away, and the girl returned her focus to the bag of chips to her right.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief.

He heard a heavy, dramatic sigh and turned towards the sound. It came from the brown-eyed boy perched on the counter. Close-up, the boy looked about his age. A chop of hair dashed across his forehead, black pearls pierced his ears, and two eyes melted light brown at the edges and sank into dark holes at the pupils. But nothing bothered Phil more than the boy’s direct gaze–it felt as if it was boring through his soul.

Behind the boy, Phil caught a shadow that solidified into a set of leathery wings, dark enough to blend into the boy’s all-black outfit. Phil felt his fingers tingle with cold.

The boy rolled his ombre eyes, hopping off the counter.

“You ruin all the fun.”

Phil aimed a glare, though he could hear his heartbeats amplify in his chest. “What were you doing that for? What good would have happened?”

The boy smirked, hopping off the counter. “Nothing, that’s the point.”

Phil’s mind rang with warning bells as the boy continued to speak. “I’m just playing Devil’s advocate.”

Phil’s breath cut short as he realized. He was a demon, made to be the opposite of Phil. Demons were always wrecking havoc, forcing Phil and other angels to chase after and mend situations left and right. And now one had the gall to face Phil and smirk? In front of him, as if he could hear Phil’s thoughts, the boy walked over and beat his wings ever so slightly. Phil flinched in the breeze.

Crossing his arms, Phil broke eye contact. At the edge of his view, he could see the black-haired girl, with the dark circles underneath her eyes and a worn-down posture. His heart twinged as she sighed and left.

Phil felt defiant. “Don’t give this girl a hard time, don’t you see her?”

The demon tilted his head. “Seems like I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere, anyways. You angels, always muddling around.”

Phil opened his mouth to rebuke, but in a swish of wings, the other had left.

Phil watched the action as if in slow-motion, just as he was arriving at the scene. A girl tipped over on the escalator, hands spread out on front of her, palms and shoulder accidentally slamming into the man in front. And the man, holding multiple shopping bags, spilled down the stairs and smashed into the woman ahead. And as Phil covered his mouth in horror, the domino effect tumbled down the escalator, ending in a heap of bags on the floor.

He dashed forward, hitting the “stop” button on the escalator, and the humming noise of machinery ground to a halt. Craning his neck, Phil could see up to the second floor, and he caught a glimpse of a brown-haired shadow, moving silently, hiding a laugh behind his hand.

That demon–

Phil sprinted up the stairs, clutching at the stitch in his side. By the time he had reached the top, he was surprised to find the boy, leaning against the wall casually, his gaze flitting across the downstairs scene.

“Did you push her?”

The boy didn’t answer. Just stood there, his wings folded in.

“Why do you even do this? Every time you do something, I have to chase after to fix it. Why–” Phil cut himself off, taking long breaths to soothe his thrumming heart. Were all demons like this? Infuriating, and maybe a little too attractive? Now Phil felt furious with himself, too.

The other boy finally made eye contact. “There’s no good without bad, is there?”

But why?

The boy shrugged. “That’s just the way it is. If there wasn’t me, would anyone need you?”

Phil searched his mind for an answer, and the demon stared straight back.

“And what about karma? I’m the one who delivers the other half.”

“Oh.” Phil bit his lip.

“I’m Dan, by the way,” the boy added. The name sounded warm on his tongue.

“N-nice to meet you, Dan,” Phil muttered.

“Is it really?”

Phil rolled his eyes while Dan grinned.

Maybe it was.

A girl laughed lightly on a park bench, leaning against the person sitting next to her. Phil watched her thread her fingers through theirs, sunlight dripping from the clouds.

Smiling, he felt at ease until he saw something that made his heart drop. Behind them, fingers resting loosely on a tree trunk, Dan, too, watched the couple.

“Dan,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t you dare.”

Dan made his way over to him, and Phil thought his steps were oddly timed until he realized that Dan’s feet were avoiding the yellow dandelions scattered in the grass.

Dan huffed a sigh. “I wasn’t planning anything!”

Phil crossed his arms, unconvinced.

Dan sat down in the grass, pausing for a moment. He tilted his head up at Phil. “These two deserve a happy ending.”

Surprised, Phil kneeled down into the grass and scanned Dan’s features for dishonesty. Dan’s eyes, golden in the sunlight, had refocused on the couple, and he wore a faint smile that threatened to melt Phil’s heart into honey.

“They do deserve a happy life,” Phil agreed. They sat in silence for a minute.

“Hey,” Dan nudged Phil. “What’s your name, anyways?”

“Phil.”

Dan grinned. “We’ve bumped into each other too many times for me not to know.”

Dan tipped his head towards him. “Honestly,“ Dan hesitated. "We might as well work together.”

“Us?” An angel and a demon? Was he joking?

“What?” Dan looked away sheepishly. “It was just an idea. You know, karma. But both sides.”

Phil felt his thoughts whirling. Phil helping the black-haired girl finish school while Dan gives her dad a piece of his mind. Phil keeping peace and harmony while Dan mixed in a bit of excitement.

Phil turned back around. “Alright.”

Dan’s eyes shimmered. “Alright?”

A loud shout of laughter disrupted their conversation, and they turned forward to see the couple on the bench bent over in giggles.

Phil felt content. He sensed a light touch, and reaching his hand up, found that Dan had tucked in a dandelion behind his ear.

“Come on,” Dan said, reaching for Phil’s hand. “Let’s do a trial-run.”

Phil curled his fingers around Dan’s hand. He can’t help but feel excitement bubble in his chest. “An angel and a demon,” Phil muttered in disbelief.

“No,” Dan grinned. “It’s Dan and Phil, now.”

Phil almost laughed aloud. He tugged on Dan’s hand, and two pairs of wings brushed against each other as they walked away side by side.

A/N: I hope you liked? ahhh I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with better moments than a girl dumping apple juice down someone’s back and a tumble down an escalator D: Anyways, happy 2017!!!!! Hope this is a great year for you :D

Summary: Phil’s an angel, and his job is to help keep the peace and make lives better, which would have been a lot easier if there weren’t also demons. Dan dresses in black, leathery wings and seems to be causing a lot of problems that Phil’s tired of fixing.

Word Count: 1269

Genre/tags: Angel!Phil, Demon!Dan, fluff (pretty much)

Warnings: none!

A/N: This is the phan secret santa present for @devilishd529! I hope you like– I based this off of your url and profile pic :) Shout-out to hot chocolate, which was my sole source of fuel during the writing of this, besides being my favorite drink ever. Also thankyou thankyou thankyou to @kiroujiswonderland for hosting this another year <3 You’re absolutely amazing!

“Alright, yes, pick up the cup,” a soft voice whispered as the black-haired girl wrapped her fingers around the styrofoam cup, now only halfway filled with what looked like apple juice. “Good good, now aim–”

“No!” Phil crashed through the open doorway, stumbling past a gaggle of girls. His wings clumsily folded behind him as he took in the scene: a girl, furious, her liquid weapon ready to launch across the room. Behind her, a barely visible boy sat on the counter, and something about him unnerved Phil, even as he shook off the feeling and willed himself unnoticeable.

Phil sprinted towards the black-haired girl, mind focused as her revengeful thoughts streamed, tangible only to him–and maybe, Phil worried, maybe to that suspicious brown-haired boy sitting meditatively while whispering.

“Don’t dump it, don’t dump it!” Phil urged, brushing other thoughts aside, “What a waste!”

The black-haired girl pursed her lips, seeming to pause for a moment, and set the cup back down on the table. Already, her target had moved away, and the girl returned her focus to the bag of chips to her right.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief.

He heard a heavy, dramatic sigh and turned towards the sound. It came from the brown-eyed boy perched on the counter. Close-up, the boy looked about his age. A chop of hair dashed across his forehead, black pearls pierced his ears, and two eyes melted light brown at the edges and sank into dark holes at the pupils. But nothing bothered Phil more than the boy’s direct gaze. It felt as if he was boring through his soul.

Behind the boy, Phil caught a shadow that solidified into a set of leathery wings, dark enough to blend into the boy’s all-black outfit. Phil felt his fingers tingle, cold.

The boy rolled his ombre eyes, hopping off the counter.

“You ruin all the fun.”

Phil aimed a glare, though he could hear his heartbeats amplify in his chest. “What were you doing that for? What good would have happened?”

The boy smirked, hopping off the counter. “Nothing, that’s the point.”

Phil’s mind rang with warning bells as the boy continued to speak. “I’m just playing Devil’s advocate.”

Phil’s breath cut short. So he was a demon, made to be the opposite of Phil. Demons were always wrecking havoc, forcing Phil and other angels to chase after and mend situations left and right. And now one had the gall to face Phil and smirk? In front of him, as if he could hear Phil’s thoughts, the boy walked over and beat his wings ever so slightly. Phil flinched in the breeze.

Crossing his arms, Phil broke eye contact. At the edge of his view, he could see the black-haired girl, with the dark circles underneath her eyes and a worn-down posture. His heart twinged as she sighed and left.

Phil felt defiant. “Don’t give this girl a hard time, don’t you see her?”

The demon tilted his head. “Seems like I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere, anyways. You angels, always muddling around.”

Phil opened his mouth to rebuke, but in a swish of wings, the other had left.

Phil watched the action as if in slow-motion, just as he was arriving at the scene. A girl tipped over on the escalator, hands spread out on front of her, palms and shoulder accidentally slamming into the man in front. And the man, holding multiple shopping bags, spilled down the stairs and smashed into the woman ahead. And as Phil covered his mouth in horror, the domino effect tumbled down the escalator, ending in a heap of bags on the floor.

He dashed forward, hitting the “stop” button on the escalator, and the humming noise of machinery ground to a halt. Craning his neck, Phil could see up to the second floor, and he caught a glimpse of a brown-haired shadow, moving silently, hiding a laugh behind his hand.

That demon–

Phil sprinted up the stairs, clutching at the stitch in his side. By the time he had reached the top, he was surprised to find the boy, leaning against the wall casually, his gaze flitting across the downstairs scene.

“Did you push her?”

The boy didn’t answer. Just stood there, his wings folded in.

“Why do you even do this? Every time you do something, I have to chase after to fix it. Why–” Phil cut himself off, taking long breaths to soothe his beating heart. Were all demons like this? Infuriating, and maybe a little too attractive? And now Phil felt furious with himself, too.

The other boy finally made eye contact. “There’s no good without bad, is there?”

But why?

The boy shrugged. “That’s just the way it is. If there wasn’t me, would anyone need you?”

Phil searched his mind for an answer, and the demon stared straight back.

“And what about karma? I’m the one who delivers the other half.”

“Oh.” Phil bit his lip.

“I’m Dan, by the way,” the boy added. The name sounded warm on his tongue.

“N-nice to meet you, Dan,” Phil muttered.

“Is it really?”

Phil rolled his eyes while Dan grinned.

Maybe it was.

A girl laughed lightly on a park bench, leaning against the person sitting next to her. Phil watched her thread her fingers through theirs, sunlight dripping on their faces.

Smiling, he stood at ease when he saw something that made his heart drop. Behind them, fingers resting loosely on a tree trunk, Dan, too, watched the couple.

“Dan,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t you dare.”

Dan made his way over to him, and Phil thought his steps were oddly timed until he realized that Dan’s feet were avoiding the yellow dandelions scattered in the grass.

Dan huffed a sigh. “I wasn’t planning anything!”

Phil crossed his arms, unconvinced.

Dan sat down in the grass, pausing for a moment. He tilted his head up at Phil. “These two deserve a happy ending.”

Surprised, Phil kneeled down into the grass and scanned Dan’s features for dishonesty. Dan’s eyes, golden in the sunlight, had refocused on the couple, and he wore a faint smile that threatened to melt Phil’s heart into honey.

“They do deserve a happy life,” Phil agreed. They sat in silence for a minute.

“Hey,” Dan nudged Phil. “What’s your name, anyways?”

“Phil.”

Dan grinned. “We’ve bumped into each other too many times for me not to know.”

Dan tipped his head towards him. “Honestly, we might as well work together.”

“Us?” An angel and a demon? Is he joking

“What?” Dan looked away sheepishly. “It was just an idea. You know, karma. But both sides.”

Phil felt his thoughts whirling. Phil helping the black-haired girl finish school while Dan gives her dad a piece of his mind. Phil keeping peace and harmony while Dan mixed in a bit of excitement.

Phil turned back around. “Alright.”

Dan’s eyes shimmered. “Alright?”

A loud shout of laughter disrupted their conversation, and they turned forward to see the couple on the bench bent over in giggles.

Phil felt content. He sensed a light touch, and reaching his hand up, found that Dan had tucked in a dandelion behind his ear.

“Come on,” Dan said, reaching for Phil’s hand. “Let’s have a trial-run.”

Phil curled his fingers around Dan’s hand. He can’t help but feel excitement bubble in his chest. “An angel and a demon,” Phil muttered in disbelief.

“No,” Dan grinned. “It’s Dan and Phil, now.”

Phil almost laughed aloud. He tugged on Dan’s hand, and two pairs of wings brushed against each other as they walked away side by side.

A/N: I’m sorry I can’t come up with better moments than a girl dumping apple juice down someone’s back and a tumble down an escalator D: Hope you liked anyways <3 (Should I do a longer version of this maybe? Hmm) Happy 2017!!!!! Hope this is a great year for you :D

#dpss2k16 #devilishd529 #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

Talk Me Down

To: @lessamazinggisonfire

A/N: Happy holidays!

Phil wasn’t gay.

He had definitely not made out with the captain of the basketball team, or got a handjob from his math tutor. Phil Lester was the straightest boy in the small seaside town he lived in, his father made sure of it.

He always told Phil the stare he stole at a boy was just a phase every teen went through, until they eventually found the proper heterosexual partner to settle down and raise a family with. And Phil believed what his father told him, because fathers did not lie to their children.

Then Dan Howell came sauntering into Phil’s life.

Suddenly, his father’s words faded from Phil’s memory when he saw Dan for the first time. His arms were linked with Louise Pentland’s, laughing and smiling at everyone he saw. Phil suddenly found himself staring the same way he stared at the countless other beautiful boys he saw. Dan shot Phil a sweet smile before turning the corner as Louise whispered to him.

Over the next few days, Dan had made it a habit to smile at Phil. Whether it was when they passed each other in the halls or from across the room in biology, Phil’s eyes met his and the whole world seemed to fade away.

They eventually started to smile at each other outside of school, texting nonstop about the stupidest things. When Phil’s father asked him why he was smiling, Phil would just shrug it off and avoid the question. His father didn’t need to know everything Phil did, this could be his own little secret.

We should hang out tonight. Phil nearly fell out of his chair. Sure, he and Dan talked during school and texted almost every night, but they had never been alone together.

Sure! Phil sent back, butterflies filling his stomach. He was overreacting, no one gets this anxious to just hang out with someone alone.

My place at seven? Parents are out on a date night. The butterflies became a swarm.

Sounds good. Just us?

Yeah.

Phil decided his father didn’t have to know that one insignificant detail, so when he asked where Phil was going tonight, Phil lied.

“I’m going to PJ’s with Felix.”

Phil had never lied to his father before.

“Alright, have fun.”

Phil’s father had never asked questions.

Dan’s house was a small cottage, tucked away near the sea, and in Phil’s opinion, was very aesthetically pleasing.

“Hi,” Dan beamed as he ushered Phil inside, hiding his hands in his sweater sleeves.

“Hi.” The two boys stood in silence as tension filled the air around them.

“Uh,” That’s when Dan kissed him. It was heated and rushed and Phil didn’t quite know what to do with his tongue but eventually Dan pushed away, flustered and stuttering.

“I-I’m sorry, I just-” Now it was Phil’s turn to kiss Dan. This time it was slower, and Phil could feel the heat radiating off of Dan. They kissed like this for a while, up in Dan’s room, and although there was a small part of Phil’s brain screaming at him to stop, he continued anyways. The two stopped when Dan’s phone buzzed, causing him to let out a groan.

“My parents are on their way home, uh, you should probably go now.” He said, still slightly out of breath. Phil nodded, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

“Thanks for uh, having me over tonight. It was fun,” Phil blushed.

“My parents are heading back to London in next weekend, wanna come over again?”

“Of course.” Phil left with a smile on his face and a hicky on the base of his neck.

He met up with Dan the next weekend, earning another hicky on his chest, and in between classes they’d steal kisses in the bathrooms. The two acted like giddy school girls whenever they snuck off. After about a month of sneaking around Dan had become Phil’s unofficial secret boyfriend.

“Do you have to go?” Dan groaned as Phil began picking up his clothes from Dan’s bedroom floor.

“Trust me, I want to stay as much as you want me to, but I have to get home before my dad does.” He pressed one last tender kiss to Dan’s lips.

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Will do!”

And Phil really meant to, but when he walked into the kitchen he saw his father waiting for him.

“Where were you?” He asked cooly.

“Uh, PJ’s house,” Phil managed to stutter out. His father’s expression hardened and he slapped Phil across the face.

“Don’t lie to me boy, tell me where you really were.” Phil’s cheek stung and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“I w-was,” Another slap.

“I don’t have all day Philip!”

“W-with Dan Howell…”

“That fag boy from London?” Another slap.

“Y-yes.” Tears were starting to fall from Phil’s eyes as his father stared at his neck.

“Is he the one who gave you those hickeys?” Phil didn’t have time to respond before he was punched in the stomach. He toppled over and groaned, his father standing over him with disgust in his eyes.

“I didn’t raise my son to become a fag.” He started to kick Phil, who lay helplessly on the floor with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Phil didn’t go to school for four days, waiting for the bruises to become less noticeable. He texted Dan to never talk to him again, and blocked his number. When Phil went back to school, he avoided Dan like the plague.

Then Veronica Lewis came sauntering up to Phil one day.

They began talking and sharing smiles the same way Phil and Dan once had. Phil’s father approved of her immensely, his expression towards Phil becoming less harsh. It did pain Phil to see the way Dan looked at him when he passed in the halls, holding hands with Veronica. But Phil reminded himself that with Veronica everything was normal, and he liked normal. His father liked normal.

It was half past twelve in the morning when Phil’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Phil Lester, Greg Lester’s son?” The voice on the other end was almost too nice for comfort.

“It is…” The voice sighed.

“I’m so sorry but- Phil your father’s been in an accident,” Phil’s blood turned cold.

“Did he make it,”

“Phil…”

“Did he make it,”

“I’m so sorry Phil.” He hung up.

The funeral was that following Tuesday.

It was small, much smaller than Phil’s mother’s funeral, with only close family and Veronica at his side. He watched numbly as they lowered his father’s casket into the grave, as his Aunt cried into her husband’s shoulder.

He walked through the cemetery alone, although Veronica had insisted on coming with. Once he was far enough away from everyone, Phil started to cry. He cried for what felt like hours until he heard his name.

“Phil,” He looked up to see Dan standing in front of him, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt and slacks. “They told me I could, uh, find you here.”

“What are you doing here, Dan?”

“You’re my friend, and you’re grieving. I came here to support you.”

“I’m not grieving, and you’re not my friend.” Phil responded cooly. Although he was grieving his monster of a father, and he loved Dan as more than a friend.

“I just want to know why you won’t talk to me. Why you’ve started seeing Veronica when you made it very clear to me that you did not like girls.” Dan’s voice cracked.

“Because I love you, and it’s best for you to just stay away from me.” They stood in silence, staring at each other with tear filled eyes. Then Dan stepped forward and placed a tender kiss to Phil’s cheek, then his lips. Phil heard a small gasp, and opened his eyes to see Veronica standing behind Dan. Before he could even begin to speak, she ran away.

“Shit,” he muttered. Phil knew a good, straight, boyfriend would run after her and apologize, but suddenly he didn’t seem to care anymore. Dan at him, brown eyes meeting blue, and whispered, “Where are you going to live.”

“With my auntie in Liverpool.”

“Is there some way you can stay here-” Phil stopped, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Goodbye Dan.” He whispered, and left Dan standing alone.

It wasn’t until years later, when Phil was visiting London for work, did Dan Howell saunter back into his life, his smile still the same.

#dpss2k16 #lessamazinggisonfire #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

Where The Heart Is

To: @our-dark-dreams From: Your Secret Santa

The first time Martha sees them, she’s in her front yard. She’s just been out to collect the mail – bills, only ever bills these days – and stopped to pull some weeds peeping out of the soil between the rhododendrons, when the taxi pulls up in front of the house across the street. The house has been on the market for a few weeks now, and Martha has seen a number of people come and go from it – ambitious singles, loved-up young couples, weary parents with children trailing them like ducklings. There were even a few retirees once. These two, though – they’re different.

They unfold themselves out of the taxi, so tall they make it look like a clown car. They’re both dark-haired and pale-skinned. The one on the right stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a pair tighter than Martha has ever seen in her life. They’re black, like his jacket, t-shirt and shoes. The other one is also wearing black jeans, but they’re looser, and his shirt is a checked blue. He’s got a backpack slung over one shoulder and a set of brightly-coloured folders clutched in his hands.

The real estate agent appears in the doorway and hurries down the front path to meet them. She ushers them forward and Blue Shirt looks down at something in his folders as he follows her into the house. The black-clothed one pauses on the front step, shading his eyes to look up towards the second storey, and then turns to look around the street. He catches Martha’s eye for a moment but he shuffles into the house before she has a chance to even think about a warm, welcoming wave.

* * *

Martha honestly doesn’t ever expect to see them again. She notices when the SOLD sign goes up but it’s been a few weeks since the young men were there, and a few other people have looked at the house since then. But then the moving van arrives, and the black-clothed one maneuvers a car into the driveway, and there’s a swarm of people in and out of the house all day and, just like that, Martha has new neighbours.

No one really sees them the first few days but that’s hardly surprising. Judging by the number of boxes they brought with them when they moved in, they’re likely still unpacking and looking for all the things they probably misplaced during the move. Everyone is curious about them, though – they’re the talk of the street. They live on a cul-de-sac, where everyone knows everyone and no one ever really leaves. When Martha moved in five years ago, the family across the street had already been there fifteen years, and the parents only moved away when their youngest went off to university at the other end of the country.

The young men have been there a week and a half when Martha decides that it’s time to be neighbourly and introduce herself. She digs a nice pair of shoes out of the closet, layers a plate with her signature jammie dodgers and crosses the road. There’s a doorbell that chimes a charming little melody inside the house, then heavy footsteps and the door is pulled open by Blue Shirt. He’s wearing a t-shirt today, with an ice-cream on it, and a pair of black-framed glasses.

“Hi!” he says and smiles a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Hello. I’m Martha. I live at number four.” She points over her shoulder. “I just thought I’d come over and introduce myself. Welcome you to the neighbourhood and all that. These are for you.” She holds out the plate of biscuits.

“Oh! Thank you!” He takes the plate and steps aside. “Would you like to come in? I was just about to make some coffee.”

Her mother always said it was rude to reject a cup of tea or coffee so she says, “Thank you. That would be lovely,” and follows him into the house.

She has to step around the half-unpacked boxes, labelled “Kitchen” and “Office”, lining the hallway. When she peeks into the lounge room, she sees that they’ve got the TV and various consoles hooked up, and the shelves are already mostly filled with DVDs and books and knick knacks. The priorities in this house are fairly clear.

“I’m Phil, by the way,” he says, leading her into the kitchen. He waves her into one of the brightly coloured chairs at the dining table and sets the plate in the centre. “It’s nice to meet you. We were just saying this morning that there’s only a limited window in which we can meet our neighbours before it’s too late and we have to spend the rest of our time here awkwardly avoiding people.”

Martha assumes that “we” includes the black-clothed one. There’s something in the casual way he doesn’t explain who he’s talking about, as if he hasn’t even thought about it, as if he’s forgotten how.

“Excuse me,” he says and stops to flick the kettle on, on his way to the door. He pokes his head into the hallway and calls, “Dan! Come down here! We have a guest!” There’s a muffled response from somewhere upstairs but that must be good enough for Phil because he strolls over to the cupboards and pulls one open to reveal what looks like a hundred mugs.

“Sorry about the mess,” he says and shifts three mugs onto the counter. “Tea? Coffee? Or hot chocolate? We have powder here somewhere…” He opens the pantry and starts pushing things aside.

“Tea, thank you. Milk, no sugar.”

He nods and drops a tea bag into one of the mugs, then fills the other two with instant coffee and sugar. He measures everything out thoughtlessly.

There’s a thumping on the stairs and the black-clothed one – Dan, she reminds herself, though he’s dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans again – appears in the doorway. He pulls back slightly, as if he’s startled to see her sitting there, and then smiles awkwardly.

“Hello,” he says.

“This is Martha,” Phil explains, pouring the boiled water into the mugs. “She lives across the street. She brought us welcome-to-the-neighbourhood biscuits!”

Dan’s eyes drop to the biscuits on the table and then he rolls them at Phil. “You would befriend the dodgiest person in the world if they offered you a plate of sugar.” Then his eyes widen and he hurriedly holds out his palms towards her. “Not that you’re dodgy! I’m sure you’re perfectly nice. But seriously, Phil would actually follow a masked man down a dark alley if he was promised sweets at the end of it. He missed the lesson on stranger danger in school.”

Phil shakes his head. “Don’t listen to him, Martha. He’s just jealous because he knows I’ll eat more of the biscuits than him.”

He brings over a mug that’s almost too full and lowers it gently to the table in front of her, so as not to spill any. The mug is completely white, except for a black nose and whiskers near the rim. Dan grabs the other two mugs – one is black, with “Game of Thrones” written on the side, and the other has Mickey Mouse on it – and brings them to the table. Martha isn’t sure if they both just happen to take their coffee the same way, but he doesn’t seem to give any thought to handing the Mickey Mouse mug to Phil.

“This is Dan,” Phil says, when they’re all seated. “We live together.”

Obviously. But she doesn’t say that, even though there’s no further explanation. She can’t quite put her finger on the nature of their relationship, but they move around each other like they’ve been doing it a long time, like they’re used to filling each other’s gaps.

She nods and nudges the plate towards them. “Please, have a biscuit.”

Dan doesn’t need telling twice. His hand shoots out and grabs one off the top. He gives it a generous dunk in his coffee and then bites it in half.

“Mmmm,” he says and she hides a smile in her mug. “These are delicious. Better than anything we’ve ever baked, hey Phil?” He nudges Phil with his elbow.

“So what brings you here?” Martha asks. “Are you new to London?”

Dan shakes his head, because Phil currently has a mouth full of jammie dodger. “No. Well, we’re new to this part of London. We lived in an apartment in the city for years but we outgrew it. Dan needs storage!” Then he laughs a self-conscious laugh that trails off and grabs another biscuit.

“You’ll find the pace of life a bit slower here than it is in the centre,” Martha says.

“That’s part of why we like it,” says Phil, brushing the crumbs off his fingers. “We’ve had a busy couple of years and we’re ready to slow down a little bit. Live a quieter life. Try new things. And we really want a dog. But we still want to be close enough to go in when we need to.”

“What do you two do?”

They exchange a glance that speaks volumes.

“We’re editors,” Dan eventually says.

“Of books?”

“Of…films and visual stuff like that.”

“Oh! Anything I would’ve seen?”

Dan chuckles and shrugs, shaking his head. “I doubt it. How about you?”

“I’m a writer. Freelance, mostly. I like it because I get to work from home in my pyjamas, at whatever time of day or night I choose.”

Dan’s face relaxes into a smile and he nods easily. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

They make a bit more small talk until Martha has finished her tea. It’s not awkward exactly, they’re very welcoming and don’t make any subtle indications that they’re trying to rush her out the door. But they’re edgy in a way she can’t describe, as if they’re not really used to interacting with anyone but each other. Maybe they’re not. They’ve implied that they work from home, and she knows how hard it is to meet people in that situation. It’s part of the reason her poor mother despairs that she’ll never find a husband.

So she does them a favour and swallows down the last of her tea quickly. “Well, thank you for the tea,” she says, rising from her chair. “It was so nice to meet you both but I’d better get going. I do actually have to do some work today, and I’m sure you’ve got things you want to do as well.”

She waves a hand when Dan offers her the plate, still half-filled with biscuits. “No, no. You keep them. I can’t possibly eat all those on my own.” She waits while Dan digs a clean plate out of a cupboard to transfer the leftovers onto. Then, they both walk her to the door.

“Thanks for coming over, Martha,” Phil says.

“And thanks for the biscuits,” says Dan.

“You’re welcome. Please, just come over anytime if you need anything. I’m almost always home.”

But she understands, as she crosses back over the street, that they’re not going to have that kind of relationship. Even from just the small amount she’s seen of them, she knows that Dan and Phil have learnt to meet life’s challenges together, without involving other people. Sure, she’ll see them out and about. They’ll wave at each other when they collect the mail, or mow the lawn, or tend to the garden. They’ll say hello and have a brief but polite conversation when they pass each other on the street. But it won’t go deeper than that.

It’s not like her relationship with her other neighbours but, after meeting them, Martha finds she’s okay with that. Dan and Phil exist in their own little bubble. She would hate to be the one to pop it.

#dpss2k16 #our-dark-dreams #phandom

[danandphilsecretsanta]

To: @lilrose1253-lillypad

From: Your Secret Santa Message from your Santa: Here’s your secret santa gift! I noticed you liked photography so I took some doodles outside and my camera (i love photography too) and yeah I think it turned out pretty cool!(I’m hoping at least I made like 10 people confirm that for me) So happy holidays hope you enjoy!

#dpss2k16 #lilrose1253-lillypad #phandom