#not to mention that Dan's 'hi i'm phil' and Phil's 'i just wrote my name was dan' have the same timestamp in different videos. aka 6:47. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lezbrarian · 3 months

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Title: Come On Down To The Lavender Luck Lounge

**Alright, I made a post already with the proper embedded AO3 version, but in case people are not into that ... idk this is my first go around of this ... I'll also make it a text post here as well. I did it -- I wrote some casino AU fanfic inspired by these outfits, in which Dan is a stuffy dry accounting manager and Phil is the owner of the casino. Thank you @dapg-otmebytheballs for the additional inspiration with your tags! And thank you to the anon who provided me with the name of the casino!

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Title: Come On Down To The Lavender Luck Lounge

Rating:

Mature

Relationships:

Dan Howell/Phil Lester

Dan Howell & Phil Lester

Summary:

Gay Casino AU: Mr. Philip Lester is the suave, flamboyant owner of a queer casino and resort, Lavender Luck Lounge. Mr. Daniel Howell is the uptight and dry accounting manager for the casino. This fic was inspired by the outfits from these videos, respectively: Daniel's: (Dystopia Daily: Dan and Phil Finally Tell the Truth) Philip's: (DAPG: Roasting Our Own Red Carpet Fashion)

Notes:

This is a work in progress. It may become longer; I may leave it at this. It's just something I was inspired to write after I saw a post on tumblr with the outfits mentioned above. I'm not sure what the plot is or will be, I just wanted to play around in this gay casino alternate universe and see where it takes these characters. Speaking of which, I'll make an obligatory disclaimer. This is a piece of fiction merely inspired by the online personas of Dan and Phil to create these characters and universe. This is not speculating on the real personal lives of Dan or Phil, and I very much do not want this to be sent to Dan/Phil in any way. So please don't do that. So far the story is not explicit/graphic, but I chose to mark this as mature as it's going to feature themes of drinking, smoking, sex and "adult" language by nature of being set in a casino.

*** The casino was buzzing. The gaudy abundance of neon-light up signs were emitting a baseline hum, always there comfortingly familiar. This alone could barely be heard over the rest of the noise that almost always populated the place. The ding! and shing sha-shing cartoon cash sound effects of the slot machines. An occasional male voice over of JACKPOT or WINNER! Then there was the sloshed singles clamoring for the bartenders’ attention at the multiple themed bars. There were the slightly out-of-place yet confident bachelorette parties of straight woo girls. They shrieked and giggled and stiletto-stumbled their way around the casino in large packs. There were the dealers whose voices cut through the chaos with practice. Notes of brassy jazz or Kim Petras might float off the performers’ stages out to the main floor during burlesque or drag shows, respectively. Then of course the cacophony of having so many people in one room, endless conversations converging together into one collective murmur.

On days like this, there was all that buzz, and then some. Because today the rumor that the owner would be here was once again stirring. It didn’t matter that Mr. Lester dropped in frequently, as a very hands-on owner of the casino and resort hotel attached. Nearly every employee lost it each time this frequent rumor spread through the halls, acting as if someone had said an A-list celebrity would be visiting the casino. Employees scrambled and preened and eagerly awaited Mr. Lester’s arrival. That was just about every employee would. There was at least one person who absolutely refused to participate in what he referred to as “juvenile gossip and infatuation.” This would be the accounting manager, Mr. Howell. He mostly hid away in his office, the only place in the casino void of the “tacky” neon lights and oh-so-80s casino furniture and carpeting. Daniel’s office was the only place Mr. Lester had relinquished control on décor. Daniel had claimed he couldn’t work “like this” with a sweeping gesture to the main lobby as Philip had toured him around on the day of his interview. Philip couldn’t help feeling slightly impressed perhaps at the nerve to diss his casino before he was even hired. Plus Daniel was good for the job. He didn’t need the accountant to love casino life. He needed him to love numbers. And Phil would never admit it out loud, but any time he ventured into Mr. Howell’s office, it did provided a much-needed relief to his senses.

In here, there was almost silence and there was a break from the strong smell of pina colada and smoke. Mr. Lester would never allow cigarettes inside, but there was a classy cigar lounge and the smoke clung to clothes and then subsequently, crushed velvet seat cushions and thick carpet fibers. Daniel’s office was meticulously tidy and organized. Uncluttered. As opposed to the neon and flashing lights, and led strips that lined the hallways and floorboards out there – in here there were just soft warm lamps, maybe an open blind. The only smells a fresh inoffensive candle or the faintest hint of Daniel’s aftershave. The floor was an almost sterile white tile, if it weren’t for the rest of the décor in nearly all black to balance it out. One accent wall was painted black too, and the others a nice off-white. A few plants draped their leaves dramatically over bookshelves or the side of his desk. It was ridiculous and unnecessary but it was Daniel’s office and his own money out of his pocket – the desk housed a modern desktop computer, but also an old-fashioned calculator and huge yellowing-white computer from the ‘90s complete with a clacky keyboard. His desk was otherwise cleared, any important documents and office supplies organized neatly in drawers. There were some tasteful books on bookshelves, which Philip guessed were chosen more for their spines and color than their content. The important documents and useful books were tucked away in filing cabinets. And of course it was still a casino, so Phil’s only influence in the room (or so Daniel let Philip believe) was the occasional gold accent piece here or there.

No matter how many times Mr. Howell indicated his complete disinterest in these frequent announcements that Mr. Lester was coming with a flat monotone “alright” or “and?” – one of the youngest and most flamboyant employees would flit into his office on their OMG he’s coming! casino tour. It certainly seemed to be more about the message-bearer than any actual response to this delivery of news, as they never skipped Daniel’s office on this rumor tour.

***

Daniel’s office door rattled closed and quickly as it had been flung open. He felt his skull rattle in its frame the same way the door rattled in its own. He sighed. He didn’t bother even giving the messenger a response today. He thinks it was Felix, one of the servers for the drag shows. But it was hard to keep track of them all, especially when he spent most of his time tucked away in this office, only to be interrupted for moments like these.

Each time someone opened his door – the casino seemed to seep into his office, his sanctuary. He swore he could smell cheap perfume and well liquor. And when he blinked the led lights of the hallway were still in his vision. He closed his eyes and rubbed at them and then his temples, attempting to regain the focus and flow he’d been in before.

Plenty of the employees and even people in Daniel’s personal life wondered why on earth he took this job, if he seemed to detest it so much. He seemed so bothered with the casino atmosphere, so why this job? Well Philip had promised him he really could just stay behind this desk, not dealing with anything other than the numbers, the input and output of money. He would have the occasional meeting, and other than that he could live in his own little world crunching numbers, completely hyper-focused and zoned out from the casino world. Calculate this, manage that. Something to keep his hands and mind busy, and the thoughts out. Of course he’d worked other types of money management and accounting jobs. But he was always being dragged into other areas of business, managing employees. And that always really meant managing other people’s emotions, which he was not in the business of. Plus there were not many places he could merge his queer identity and his money management. He absolutely despised the jobs he’d worked on Wall Street, with fratty finance bros in their polos and khakis or drab blue suits and crisp baby blue button-ups. Yeah, that was not for him. The Lavender Luck Lounge casino aesthetic might have swung entirely too far in the other direction for him, but at least he was not expected to fist bump and contribute to heterosexual male small talk here. Sure it was flashy and tacky and way, way too colorful. But the workplace was ostensibly queer. The bartenders, servers, dealers, and bouncers were an impressive and intimidating mix of cool tattooed lesbians, big burly bears, adorable flamboyant twinks, nonbinary hotties with names like Twig, and the list could go on and on. There was an incredibly talented and diverse cast of drag queens and burlesque performers. All the employees were encouraged to be themselves and dress how they felt comfortable. Yes, Daniel found this place to be overstimulating and frankly gaudy for his own taste, but he would take that any day over a boring cookie cutter cubicle where he had to dress the same as every other man in the building.

Daniel was having a hard time getting back into his focus after Felix, or had it been Striker, had flung their long braids over their shoulder and bounced out of the room. He couldn’t get their damn singsongy Mr. Leeeeester is coooomiiiing! out of his head, like an annoying ear worm of a song. He sat up straight at his computer. Though Philip had made sure to have his desk and chair measured for ergonomics, Daniel found himself slouching at it frequently. At 6’3” he was just use to slouching and hunching at most desks. He fussed with his blazer, which was black with a thin white gird pattern today. He liked to dress well for the job, fashionable but nothing too flashy. He had never asked if there was a dress code, but Mr. Lester had also never provided him with a set of rules or dress code either. Judging from the range of casual to full on costume-garb among the other employees – he was pretty sure he could wear just about anything to work and it would be fine. But like his office, he preferred a style that was well-kempt, chic, lowkey but stylish. And it was almost always black and white head to toe. Today he let the blazer be the focus, with a fitted grey shirt underneath and the blazer open. He paired black slacks that tapered and revealed the ankle. To be fair this is how he had to wear most slacks at his height, unless he shopped at Big and Tall, which he most certainly did not. But he didn’t mind – the tapered ankle-showing look was in as far as he could tell. He wore a sensible but expensive sock and a shiny black loafer. The only bit of accessorizing he ever did was one small hoop earring on one side, which he’d had since his days in college, and a fancy silver watch which he’d acquired once he graduated and made some Wall Street money. In fact, it was one bit of his daily outfit from those days that he’d kept in the rotation. He’d tossed most of his ties, finding them stuffy – plus they reminded him of his all-boys-school uniform days. Not great memories there. His outfit today was fairly similar to what he wore most days, and it seemed Mr. Lester had no problem with it. In fact, he’d even give Daniel an occasional “looking snazzy, Howell.” Daniel dressed with the goal that nobody on the street would look at him and think that guy works in a casino. Daniel thought Mr. Lester dressed like he must want every person on planet earth to know he owned a casino. He often barely managed to be out of eye sight of Philip before he rolled his eyes at whatever flashy thing Philip had donned that day.

He'd had his eyes closed for quite some time. Still gently rubbing the bridge of his nose and his temples. Before he knew it, his door was being knocked on and flung open before he could answer “come in” again.

“I know he’s com—”

“Who’s coming, Mr. Howell?” Philip asked and Daniel swore he heard an ounce of amusement, perhaps innuendo in his voice?

“Not me – I mean, never mind doesn’t matter. Hi, I thought you were someone else.” Oh, god. He wasn’t the most social person, but he’d like to be able to at least perform these standard social interactions without completely fumbling.

“Okie dokie” Phil said sincerely. Daniel was sure he was the only person in the world who could pull off that phrase without an ounce of sarcasm. “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you that I’m not someone else, but I just dropped by to remind you about our meeting later today!”

Daniel is positive Philip never mentioned this meeting, but this was par for the casino owener’s course. He worked hard, and ultimately ran a tight ship. He made his employees genuinely happy and actually cared about how they were doing. He was a good hands-on owner. He was charming and whip smart too, with innovative ideas and solutions. But he was a total fucking scatterbrain. His office, not unlike the stark difference between Daniel’s and his stylistic choices in clothing, was the exact opposite of Daniel’s. Where Dan’s desk was tidy, uncluttered, a sleek black desk with a piece of green-tinted glass over it – there was virtually no way of knowing what color or nearly even where Philip’s desk was in his office. His office might as well not have a desk or shelves since you couldn’t see them anyway under the piles and piles of loose papers, notebooks, post-it-notes and knick-knacks. In Phil’s office, the aesthetic of the casino and resort certainly bled over. There were neon light-up signs in here too – one large one read Here, Queer, I Can Always Lend an Ear! – and there was a plasma ball and definitely more than one lava lamp. The office was slightly more pastel, softer compared to the deep reds and purples of the customer-facing areas of the Lavender Luck Lounge. But this man was born to own a casino. Daniel had no doubt this would not be far off from how Philip’s actual house was decorated. He didn’t know how Mr. Lester found anything at all in here, let alone keep track of anything truly important. It was no wonder he was lucky to get even a notice about a meeting earlier in the day. Daniel preferred plenty of notice, meetings written down in his perfect color-coded calendar weeks in advance. But he was used to this part of the job by this point. And everything else ran pretty smoothly, especially since all important financial documents came straight to his own office. So he was willing to let it slide that meetings often came with little to no warning. And, though he would never admit it, a little change of environment and routine was nice every now and then. Sometimes they would meet in Phil’s office. But there were conference rooms in the resort they would use sometimes as well.

“Does that work for you?” Philip asked.

Fuck. He had stopped paying attention again.

“Hmm.. what’s working for me?”

“The … time? For the meeting?” Philip didn’t seem annoyed, but maybe even a bit concerned. “You alright, Daniel? You seem distracted.”

Shit. He couldn’t possibly ask Philip to repeat the time again. Too embarrassing. No, he’d have to bribe a bartender or someone to go subtly ask Mr. Lester if he had a meeting later that day, and the get the time from them.

“Yes! Works for me,” Daniel answered with too much enthusiasm now.

Philip turned then, his heeled boots making a nice loud click-clack against the tile in his office. In this entire interaction Daniel had barely actually looked at Philip. His boots were shiny black snakeskin (Daniel assumed it was faux, but expensive nonetheless), and they had a modest heel that gave Philip an extra two or three inches to his already tall height of 6’2”. He was wearing slacks very similar to Dan’s --- tapered nicely at the ankle above his boots. But on second glance, Philip’s were a deep, deep red beyond red wine or burgundy – appearing almost black at first. And his shirt – it was a silky long-sleeve button down. The shirt was more of a cherry red with an abstract black water color stripey effect. And he had the first few buttons undone, exposing his pale chest and a surprising amount of dark chest hair for an otherwise clean shaven man. He was sporting a delicate gold chain necklace as well. He certainly looked like he owned a casino, more so than usual even. His looks often leaned a bit more flashy, sparkly even. But today – he was looking almost, dare someone say, sleazy? But in a swanky and suave way still, somehow, he was pulling it all off.

Before Philip closed the door and left, he leaned back into the doorframe.

“I like that blazer, Howell. You should wear that one more often.”

Daniel was certainly not oblivious to what was so charming about Mr. Lester, or why he seemed to have an entire casino’s worth of employees wrapped around his finger.

And without a response, Philip closed the door behind him. Daniel could still hear his heels clicking down the hallway, until he reached the carpeted main floor.

***

#dnp #dnp fanfic #dnp fanfiction #dan and phil #dan and phil fanfic #dan and phil fanfiction #au #casino au #dnp DNI !!!!! please !#my writing

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fourohfourlifenotfound · 2 years

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RPF History: DNP vs DNF

I'm someone who has existed at the generational divide in fanfiction communities. I'm old enough to have started on ff.net and young enough to see fic recs for my Fandom on tiktok. Today I'd like to rant about how much RPF has changed in the last decade or so.

For those who don't know, RPF stands for real person fiction. Famously one direction falls into this category. I'm going to be comparing the two rpf fandoms I've existed in: Dan & Phil and Dream SMP.

Dan and Phil's peak on the internet fell into place with the first generation of youtubers. This generation went from nobodies making videos in their bedrooms to celebrities in an age where fame came from money or more traditional media. The difference between YouTube and traditional media was the focus on relatability. These were normal people, just like their audience. And as a result, a lot of boundaries got crossed.

Specifically in the case of Dan and Phil, there was a lot of shipping. Two nonmasculine emo guys living together for many years? Yeah, a lot of people had suspicions about their sexualities and relationship status. This isn't uncommon today: everyone looked at Dream and George in 2020 and thought the exact same thing, despite them living an ocean apart (this is likely a hallmark of the pandemic: the idea of love existing through screens and despite physical barriers).

The difference was that Fandom back then didn't know how to interact with creators. There were no norms for boundaries. This went far above and beyond awkward questions. People zoomed in, took screenshots and did analysis of everything. If one mentioned buying a fan to use on his bedside table while he slept and it was spotted in the background of a visitor's vlog in another room, then people flipped out. And there were things even worse than this deep cut analysis... if you were in this fandom, you might remember the fallout from the vday video. It was the wild west out there, and it hurt a ton of creators.

Dan and Phil also existed on the internet during a revolution in the fanfiction world: people stopped being afraid of legal consequences for writing fanfic. As a result, fandoms got louder and prouder about their fanworks. It became a lot easier to find. Dan and Phil, who have openly mentioned being on tumblr frequently, ran into it easily.

If you watch enough of their content, you can see Dan and Phil struggling to navigate their position as the subjects of one of the biggest rpf ships of the time. I distinctly remember Dan brushing off shippers at some points and then joking in a video about not caring if you wrote smut about him and Phil so long as you got his favorite Pokémon right. As time goes on, you see less vlogs as they learn to keep more of their privacy.

This fan-creator relationship now looks wildly different, from both ends.

You see creators learning from their predacessors to keep more of their privacy early on. Ranboo and Dream and Corpse are prime examples for not revealing their real names or their faces.

You also see fandoms respecting the boundaries of their creators far more. I can google the name of any dsmp member followed by "boundaries" and get a complete up-to-date list of everything that they are comfortable with their fans doing, from shipping to smut to art to names to pronouns. I've seen Ranboo fans being supportive of him keeping his privacy and not pressing for a face reveal after he expressed his discomfort; in fact, I've seen people weirded out at the idea of knowing what part of his face looks like because they're more used the idea of him keeping his privacy.

But despite all of this, I would say that rpf subjects haven't distanced themselves from shipping and fanfic; they've embraced it and gotten closer to their fans.

Heatwaves was historic in that it was the first fanfiction to go truly mainstream. It caused the popularity of its titular song to skyrocket and it got recognized by every content creator in that space. The author was uncomfortable with the ccs finding it initially, and rightfully so given the past boundary crossing of fandoms and reactions from creators. But they did find it, they made an account to read it, and they were okay with it.

Wilbur Soot is the first instance I've seen of a writer with a work that has an established fan base posting original content for that work to a fanfiction website.

And this week, Dream called himself a "toxic shipper" in a tweet. About shipping himself with his friends. This is very new for the world of rpf.

New Fandom: I want you to understand what it used to be like, where we came from. The norm used to be really bad for both creators and fans. I want you to think of this and keep improving upon what's been built.

Old Fandom: I want you to see how far new Fandom has come. They may not understand how to properly tag things or keep content where it's supposed to go, but they've made leaps and bounds in terms of establishing a fandom-creator relationship.

#fandom history #long post #dnf #phan #rpf #dsmp #mcyt #dnp

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