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numba99 · 4 years

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Fatal Attraction - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary:When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 4k whew my longest work ever I think (there are probably some typos towards the end forgive me!!!)

Song: I wanna be yours // Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: blood, stitches (please ignore if its not medically accurate I tried y’all), smut

Your eyes fluttered open as warm morning sunlight entered the room. With each slow blink, details from last night came back to you. For a few moments you were certain it wasn’t all just a dream, but the bruises on your knuckles told you it was very real.

You looked down at yourself, you were in the pajamas you had packed, but you had no memory of putting them on. You peeked inside your shirt, seeing your bra was still on. Mika must have got you into your pjs because you would have never left your bra on to sleep, no matter how exhausted you were. You thought it was sweet, though, he could have been a creep and stolen a look at you while you were passed out, but he didn’t. He really was a criminal with morals.

Speaking of your favorite criminal, you rolled over, happy to find him still in bed with you. He was closer to the other edge of the bed, which in a king-sized bed felt like a mile away. His back was to you, allowing you to sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Morning,” he mumbled softly. His eyes were still closed, but he smiled when you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddled against him. He was so warm and solid, curing the little chill you always seemed to feel in the morning, no matter the temperature outside. You couldn’t imagine anything that would be worth leaving this bed for.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Mika said, as if he could read your thoughts. He turned towards you, his eyes somehow even more beautiful with a hint of sleepiness in them.

“Who says we can’t?” you asked with a playful grin.

Mika chuckled, “Just about everyone who buys my product.” You thought it was interesting the way he spoke about what he did. It was all very professional, like he was working in a legitimate business. You didn’t mean that in a way to belittle what he did, clearly he did well for himself and you really didn’t have a problem with it. You wondered, though, if it was a show for you, like he thought you were more comfortable hearing “product” rather “drugs.”

“Can they wait five more minutes?” you asked, not ready to leave this little slice of heaven just yet.

“Of course they can,” Mike replied, kissing your forehead.

“I have to say,” you began, absentmindedly running your finger over his arm, “I was a bit surprised about last night.”

“I’m glad I didn’t freak you out too much with Thomas. I was nervous you’d flip out on me,” Mika replied, watching how you touched him. He loved how delicately your hand moved along his toned forearm.

“No not that... well yeah I guess that surprised me too,” you laughed lightly. That was an understatement, but not what you were thinking of. “I mean the window thing. Not exactly what I would expect from a guy that wants to take things slow.”

Mika shrugged, “It was just the way you handled yourself, I don’t know, it got to me I guess. You're not very easy to resist, y/n.”

You were sure his words made your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. “Guess it’s good you live so far up, or else some people would have gotten a good show,” you joked.

“I’d never let anyone else see you like that,” Mika said, laughing, though there was an edge of seriousness in his voice. You guess Mika was not a man that liked to share.

You laid together for a little while longer, but hunger got the best of you both eventually. You meandered out to the kitchen, thinking you would just be having some cereal or something. You should have known by now that Mika was not just a cereal type of guy.

“A chef?” you asked, not sure why you were even shocked. He was in the kitchen, churning out a little breakfast spread for the two of you.

“I thought you’d be hungry after last night,” Mika replied. Your stomach growled as if to agree with him. You loaded your play with pancakes, eggs, and some fruit for good measure before settling down on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

“Do you mind if Chris joins us?” Mika asked. You shook your head, your mouth was too full to reply verbally.

At first you were sure Chris didn’t like you, but you think he was just very protective of Mika, which you appreciated. You guessed he thought you either just wanted him for his money, or got yourself into something that was way above your head. The former couldn’t be further from the truth and the latter, well, maybe there was a hint of truth to that. You didn’t know exactly what this lifestyle would entail, but you were prepared to do whatever it takes to keep up. You weren’t about to become a liability to Mika. With the look of approval you caught from Chris last night after handling Thomas, you think he was finally starting to see that too.

Chris came in form the elevator a few moments later, greeting you with a reserved smile, but a smile nonetheless. That was progress in your book. “We still on for tonight?” he asked as he filled his plate with eggs.

“Yeah, I’ve texted the guys to be ready at our normal spot at midnight,” Mika replied.

“What’s tonight?” you asked, not following the conversation.

“We’ve got a shipment coming in,” Mika explained, “Nothing big, really. It’s more of a decoy if anything. Dimitri’s trying to figure out where we import from so he can hijack the big one we having coming in soon.”

“Can I come?” The both shook their heads immediately.

“This isn’t like last night,” Mika replied slowly. You could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Last night was secure. These things are... harder to plan for. Things can... go south fast. I don’t want you in the middle of that.” No matter how heavily he sugarcoated it, you knew he was saying there was chance he could get seriously hurt tonight, or worse.

“You could die,” you heard yourself say. You didn’t want to sound scared or like you couldn’t handle this. Mika didn’t need another thing to worry about, and a small part of you was scared that if he thought this was going to freak you out too much he’d break things off.

“Please don’t worry, y/n,” Mika insisted, “I’ve done these countless times and I’m still here. Hell, this one is probably the safest one we’ve done in a while because we are anticipating Dimitri watching. We’ll be ready for him and any of the shit he pulls.”

Chris slung his arm around Mika’s shoulder and added, “I’d never let anything happen to Mika, I promise.” You gave them your bravest smile. It did make you feel better to hear that, but still you couldn’t complete ignore the nerves in your stomach.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

“Isn't tonight your normal night to work a shift at the club?” Mika asked. You wondered if he planned it that way. He was right though, you were supposed to work tonight. You had almost completely forgotten about Rick’s shitty club; it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Ugh, yeah a do,” you groaned, “That place fucking sucks.”

“Do you wanna quit?” Mika asked.

“I would love too.”

“So do it,” Mika replied casually, “You don’t need to work, I’ve got you covered.”

“Mika, I can’t, I don’t wanna mooch of you. It’s not fair,” you replied.

“You're not mooching, I want to do it,” Mika countered, “But if you want to work, I definitely support it. I’ll help you find a different job even. I just... I don’t really like the way other men look at you when you dance if I’m honest.” Yeah, he definitely didn’t like to share. You thought it was hot, though, how he spoke with such seriousness.

“Okay deal,” you replied, “I’ll work my final shift tonight and then look for something new. God it will be so nice to be able to tell off Rick once and for all.”

Chris let out a laugh, “Kinda wish I could see that.” You smiled, glad that he really seemed to be warming up to you.

“So I gotta ask,” you shifted the topic, “How did you to meet?” Mika and Chris exchanged a glance as if sharing a silent exchange of who wants to tell the story this time?

Apparently it was Chris’s turn. “Guess it’s not so crazy. I used to live with my family up in Massachusetts, but we didn’t get along well I guess you could say. My parents put a lot of pressure on me to excel in everything. They even wanted me to be a pro hockey player, I mean can you imagine?” Chris and Mika chucked before Chris continued, “Anyways, when I told them that isn’t what I wanted they basically kicked me out and cut me off. I moved to New York and started selling to get by. And that’s when I met Mika.”

“My dad used to have me scout guys,” Mika picked up the story, “Trying to figure out who we could recruit to work for us. I just clicked with Chris unlike I have with anyone else. He's one of the few people I trust completely.” Chris smiled bashfully at Mika’s words. You could tell they meant a lot to each other and you were happy Mika had such a great friend.

“I’m glad you have each other,” you replied. Specifically glad that Mika had Chris. It would make you nervous (well more nervous than you already are) for Mika to be out doing this without someone to have his back. Especially someone like Chris who, the more time you spent, with the more you were convinced he could wrestle a grizzly bear.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. Mika was extremely calm for someone about to go out and break the law while being watched by some lunatic mobster. You spent much of your time laid beside him, his hand lazily tracing lines over your body as he made phone calls to the other guys finalizing the details. You wished you could get in his head and see if he actually had any fear, or if he was just being brave so you wouldn’t freak out.

Eventually, it came time for you both to go to your respective jobs. Hopefully it would only be your final time doing it. “Hey, don’t look so scared,” Mika said softly, tucking his finger under your chin and pushing it up so you had to look at him. “Everything gonna be okay, I promise. By the time you’re done with your shift at the club I’ll be home. You won't even have time to miss me.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he spoke to you. It filled you with such a sweet warmth and comfort. “I’ll be racing you back,” you teased, trying to show him you weren’t as nervous as you truly were.

“I know you will be,” Mika smirked, “So on the off chance you beat me to it, or if you need anything at all while I’m out, Lias is gonna be. We always have one person stay back in case- just for precaution. If you need anything call him.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Mika gave you a peck on the lips and you returned it, which ended up in full blown making out in his living room.

“Jesus there are plenty rooms in this apartment you guys need to find one,” a voice quipped. Lias had let himself in. You and Mika both rolled your eyes and laughed. “Chris and the guys are waiting for you in the car downstairs.”

“Thanks Lias. Make sure you keep your phone on you if we need anything,” Mika turned to you and kissed your forehead before saying, “I’ll see you soon.” You gave your bravest smile as a goodbye and watched him disappear into the elevator. You wanted to go out with him so you could spend as much time with him as possible, but Mika was concerned about being seen with you. As far as he knew, Dimitri didn't know where he lived, but he still didn’t wanna risk it if he was watching.

So after ten minutes passed, you set off to the club one last time. Despite your nerves there was a go giddy excitement coursing through your veins. There were so many times you fantasized about telling Rick off and now you were finally going to be able to do it.

That was all you thought about during your shift. Well that and Mika, but you were trying to not make yourself a nervous wreck and that was the best distraction. It definitely wasn’t your best night in terms of tips but you really couldn’t give less of a fuck. It wasn’t about the money. You were just there to fill the time. Each song brought you closer to giving Rick what he deserves. Each song brought you closer to Mika.

And finally it was time. You eagerly changed back into your street clothes, hugging the girls you worked with goodbye. They didn’t ask questions about why you were quitting. That was best part of this profession, the girls you worked with understood life could be... complicated. You were glad you didn’t have to come up with a lie.

“I’d like to talk to you, Rick,” you stated, shutting the door to his office behind you. It was less office and more closet he turned into a makeshift office to feed his sense of self importance.

Rick smiled a sleazy smile, “Finally gonna take me up on that offer to fu-”

“Oh would you shut the fuck up,” you snapped, stunning him into a brief silence.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Rick fired back. He could be loud, but you were scared of him. He was coward and he wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Even if he did, you knew Mika would crush him in a second if he heard.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Because I quit,” you began, “You are never going to lay one of your disgusting fucking fingers on me again. Or any of these girls for that matter. None of them want to fuck you, they're just to scared to tell you off because you’re their gross, manipulative boss.”

“Why don’t you j-”

“I’m not fucking finished,” you cut him off, “If I hear you even so much as make one creepy comment towards any of these girls I promise you it will be the last thing you ever do. Got it?” You hadn’t realized you were getting closer to him as you spoke until you were right in his face. You never saw him look so afraid. It felt good.

“Got it,” he gulped.

“Great,” you flashed a mean-spirited smile, “Don’t even bother paying me for the shift tonight. I don’t need your money.” With that you left, feeling on top of the fucking world. You almost forgot about what Mika was out doing. Almost.

Once the high of quitting wore off, you were practically running home. Had you not been so caught up in wanting to see Mika so badly, you may have thought more about how you were already referring to Mika’s place as “home” even though you haven’t even moved in. That didn’t matter right now, you just wanted to see his face.

You rushed into the apartment, nerves creeping in as you noted how quiet it was. You found Lias in the living room where you left him. Alone.

“They’re not back yet?” you asked, holding out hope Mika had slipped away to the bathroom.

“No, um, should be here soon,” Lias told you, though there was something off in his voice. He knew something he wasn’t telling you.

“Lias... did something happen?” Your heart was pounding your ears.

“It’s nothing really everything is-”

“Lias fucking tell me what happened,” you snapped. You couldn’t bare another moment in suspense.

“There was a fight,” Lias relented, “Not Dimitri’s people, but they were attacked.” Before you could ask what he meant by that, the elevator doors lid open. Chris walked in with his arm around Mika, who was bleeding down his face from his forehead.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. You knew head wounds bled more than other wounds even if they weren’t that bad, but the amount of blood dripping down his face was startling.

“It’s not as bad it looks,” Mika insisted. You rush over to him as Chris sat him down at on one of the stools in the kitchen.

“Seriously, you should see the other guy,” Chris added with a smirk, “Poor guy won’t be getting a date any time soon.” Mika and Chris had a laugh, as if Mika wasn’t still currently bleeding. You inspected the gash above his eyebrow, a little less than an inch long. You ran a finger over the skin around it and Mika winced.

“This is gonna need stitches,” you stated, getting a close a look as possible. It didn’t appear to go down to the bone, thank god.

“We can’t go to a hospital,” Mika told you, “Hospitals take names and ask questions.”

“Have you got a first aid kit?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “Should be a fully stocked one in the closet upstairs.”

“Grab it and bring it to the bathroom. Lias can you get some towels, please? Either dark ones or old ones. This will stain.” You held out your hand, which Mika took, but not without a quizzical look. You led him to the bathroom.

“Do you know how to do stitches?” Mika asked as you sat him down at the toilet. You turned on the tap, letting it run warm.

“I was studying to be a nurse before I left college,” you explained. By that time Lias had dropped off some black towels. You soaked one, gently removing the blood that had dripped down his neck.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Mika asked, eyeing you with wonderment. You were trying to focus on wiping the blood around to wound off without pulling it open more, but his eyes on you clouded your thoughts.

“Long division,” you joked, mostly for yourself. You needed to lighten the mood. Once you got enough of the blood off, you instructed Mika to press the towel against his head to prevent anymore from coming out. Just then, Chris brought in the first aid kit.

“Need any help in here?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” you replied, your eyes scanning the interior of kit. You were relieved that it had everything you needed. Chris said something you didn’t really catch as you pulled out the disinfectant. You poured it on to the gauze and handed it to Mika. “Put this over the cut. It’s gonna sting, but it’s gotta get clean.”

Mika followed your instruction without question, though he did wince when the gauze touched his skin. “Jesus this hurt more than the actual cut.”

“Sorry,” you replied empathically.

“Not your fault baby,” he replied, his free hand finding the back of your thigh and rubbing it lightly. You ignored how it made your stomach flip as you tried to thread the need. It took you three tries.

“Try to hold still,” you said quietly as you positioned yourself over him. Your hands were shaking slightly, it had been awhile since you had done this. After a deep breath you were able to proceed, and you were surprised how easily it came back to you. Mika was an amazing patient, only a few little twitches of a frown as the needle went through his skin and the sutures closed up the wound.

“All done,” you said, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you're holding. You took a step back to admire your work. You were surprised at how good they looked.

Mika stood up and checked himself in the mirror. “Wow, you’re amazing, you know that right?” he marveled at you. It made your knees weak.

“You were the bravest patient I ever had,” you told him. He didn't need to know your only other patients included little kids at summer camps.

“Hope you don’t mind how they make me look,” Mika teased, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I think it suits you,” you replied. It was weirdly hot, in a way. “Plus, I’ve always loved a scar on a man.” You gently thumbed his forehead, just a few inches above the wound.

Mika’s eyes clouded over lightly. At first you couldn't quite place it, but when his lips found your neck you realized it was lust. “How can I repay you?” he asked in a tone that told you he already had an idea.

You slipped your hand under his jaw, making him look at you. You took a second to admire the look in his eyes, before whispering. “Like this.” Your lips were on his in an instant. You kissed each other hungrily. Your hands tangled through his hair while his found your ass. He gave you a slight squeeze and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him.

He was able to carry you effortlessly to his bedroom without ever losing contact with your lips. You fell into the clouds of his bed sheets gently, as Mika admired you from above. As much as his stare intoxicate you, you needed him. You reached up, pulling him on top of you.

Clothes feel off between kisses and gentle moans. Mika made it clear the other night that he was well-versed in foreplay activities, but right now you just wanted him. Nothing besides him inside you would satisfy the ache you felt between your legs.

Mika sensed this, reaching down to run his finger through you folds. He made sure you were wet enough for him and you were more than certain you were. Though when he removed the last of his clothes, there was a sliver of doubt in you. He was big, both long and thick.

“We’ll start slow,” Mika smirked, noting the look in your eye when you saw him. You didn’t have time to be embarrassed about being caught staring, he was already getting himself ready to push into you.

It didn't happen with you fistfuls of sheets and some gasps, but he managed to get himself all the way inside you. Mika was normally very composed, but you could see his willpower was crumbling as he felt your tightness around him.

Mika kept yo his word, moving slowing until you both adjusted to the feeling of the other. It didn’t take too long before he was able to move with more speed and strength. He felt unbelievably good inside you; you never felt so full in your life. His strokes were long but fast. It was the perfect mix of needy and passionate. He’d been thinking about this moment as long as you had.

Your orgasm approached surprisingly quickly. You clawed at Mika’s back, feeling the pleasure build to a near unbearable level.

“Fuck, Mika,” you gasped when you couldn’t hold on any longer. The sweet warm sensation of bliss filled you completely. You moaned into Mika’s neck as he kept going until he came along with you. The sounds he made were music to your ears.

Mika slowed up and let you both ride out the last few moments of your highs. He was panting lightly by the time he fell beside you on the bed. He had you in his arms within seconds.

“I guess neither of us understand the concept of slow,” you teased.

Mika chuckled, kissed the top of your head, “You get me. That’s why you’re my girl. Forever.”

#fatal attraction #m zibanejad #mika zibanejad imagine #mika zibanejad smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #new york rangers imagine #new york rangers smut

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lesbian-sora · 6 years

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Only Fools

Summary ~ School is hard. School is harder when you’re a loser who has more bullies than friends. School is even harder when you have a crush on the most amazing guy in the world, even if your friends can’t see it. School is damn impossible when your friends coerce you into participating in the school play with the most amazing guy in the world.

Dan and Phil’s experience falls into the impossible category, but maybe together (with some help from the King himself) they can make it out alive and well.

Tags ~ Fluff, high school AU, friends to lovers, theatre kids, mutual pining, slow burn, slight angst, not actually unrequited love

Words ~ 7106/~35K

Warnings ~ Swearing

Rating ~ Teen

Author’s Note ~ Hi guys! This fic was originally supposed to be one of my fics for Phandom Big Bang 2016, but things came up. I recently blew the dust off of it, and I really liked it, so it’s getting revamped and published! Updates will most likely be once a month for the next 4 months (I may up that posting schedule if writing/editing goes well and people actually like it) and I look forward to all of you getting to read it! Also, this will be my first chaptered fic that I’m posting one part at a time, so that’s exciting!

Prompt me!

Buy me a coffee!

Next chapter!

Read on AO3

Act I Scene I

There honestly weren’t very many people Louise Pentland disliked. She was bubbly and personable, meaning she got along with just about everyone she came in contact with, and she quite liked it that way. Everything from her approachable smile to her mothering attitude made it so people were drawn to her and she to them.

That being said, she absolutely despised Phil Lester.

Was it unfair, petty, and totally unreasonable? Absolutely. In all honesty, Phil would probably be voted nicest guy in the school, if anyone were to take a poll. Was he was a bit weird? Most certainly. However, it was a completely harmless weird. It was quirky and odd like that store on the edge of town that dealt solely in the manufacture and sale of cat-themed gnomes. If she were to be straight with herself, she would admit that Phil had never knowingly or unknowingly harmed, damaged or even seriously upset herself or anyone she remotely knew, simply because that wasn’t the type of person Phil was. No, her dislike of Phil wasn’t his fault, and he had no idea it was even happening. Her dislike boiled down to one thing and one thing only.

“Louise! You’ll never guess what Phil did today!” Dan gushed, collapsing in the seat next to her.

Louise didn’t bother to look up from her compact where she was very carefully reapplying her lip gloss. She knew Dan was flushed lightly with a wide, dopey smile and that his eyes shone as if every star was compacted down into glitter that was dumped into hot chocolate. He always looked like that when Phil was brought up. Which was a lot. “I’m guessing from your normal reports that he was walking down the hall and breathing.”

“No,” Dan scowled and wadded a bit of paper into a tiny ball and flicked it at her, offering a sheepish grin after it landed in her makeup. “I actually talked with him a bit today.”

“Dan, we’ve discussed this before. Saying ‘Hi, Phil!’ and then hiding your face and running away before he can respond doesn’t count as talking to him.”

“Someone’s in a mood,” Dan pouted. “And I’ll have you know this was a totally real and legit conversation we had. Some dick head knocked into me on the way out here and Phil saw and helped me pick all my stuff up and everything. He even gave me his hand to help me stand up!”

Louise cocked a brow. “Really? Honestly, Dan I almost didn’t think you had it in you,” she said, ignoring his squawks of protest. “What all did you boys talk about?”

“He saw my piano book and asked if I played,” Dan said dreamily, the look on his face making it more than apparent that he was reliving the moment in perfect clarity again and again until it was ingrained in his memory. “And so I told him yeah, but I was awful and then I thought he was going to just leave but he walked with me almost the whole way here and he saw me in the play last year, Louise! He saw me and remembered me and told me I did a good job! Oh my god, it was probably the best moment of my life.”

Louise rolled her eyes, but smiled good naturedly, more than pleased over how happy her friend was. However, there was one thing that always bugged her about the whole situation. “Dan, darling, why Phil of all people? I mean he’s nice and all, and, sure, he’s not awful to look at, but he’s just so strange. Saying you could do better is probably the understatement of the year.”

Dan looked at her, glaring at her as if she’d just spat in his mother’s face and told her that her cooking was a disgrace (which she hadn’t) and he was personally offended (which he probably was). “Okay, first of all,” he started and Louise took a deep breath, already regretting her words and preparing for the sermon that was soon to follow. “Phil Lester is an unusual beauty so rare and perfect and we don’t deserve him. Second, he’s got an absolutely brilliant mind and we should all count ourselves lucky to hear anything that brain decides to gift us with. Third-”

“Mr. Howell,” Mrs. Bronwell interrupted from the front of the room, “as much as I’m sure we’d all love to hear you expound on the virtues of Mr. Lester, I, personally, get paid to teach you math, and I’d quite like to do so at this moment. If that’s not an imposition on you, of course.”

Dan blushed bright red all the way from his collar bones (and possibly farther, who knew) to the very tips of his ears. “Sorry, Mrs.,” he said, sinking down a bit more in his chair. “I’m done.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Louise scoffed, quite unintentionally. There were a few scattered titters around the room and Dan gave Louise a long, hard, stare. The whole school probably knew about Dan’s crush on Phil just from him talking loudly and passionately about how wonderful the other boy was at any chance he got, so it’s not like there was any new gossip being delivered so he didn’t really feel the need to be properly embarrassed. But, the sting of betrayal was still there and he was sure to let her know he felt about it.

“Thank you for your contribution, Miss Pentland,” Mrs, Bronwell smiled, “but we really must get on with our lesson. Now, today we’re studying logarithms - James, don’t you roll your eyes at me. Yes, I saw you just fine.”

Now that the lesson had begun and he was finally free of all judgement, Dan let himself drift off quite happily into his thoughts, where his daydreams once again found themselves centered upon the subject of Phil Lester. How kind his smile was when he was offering him help. How he seemed genuinely interested as Dan flushed and fumbled over the explanation of his mediocre piano skills. How his hand was so soft but sure and he held Dan’s own and pulled him to his feet. As his teacher went on about the ins and outs of math things he didn’t care about Dan drew little doodles, of hearts and Phil coming to rescue him from the horrors of sports. He sighed happily and looked out the window thinking about Phil Lester, unknowing that somewhere in the school Phil was sighing happily and looking out a window thinking about Dan Howell.

Act I Scene II

“I found out he plays piano, Peej!” Phil beamed, waving his hands around for emphasis. “That’s so impressive, honestly. I wonder if he can play anything else.”

“I think I heard somewhere that he plays drums, but that could just be a rumor.” PJ paid the conversation little mind, far more focused on the poster he was designing for the school play.

“Eh, he seems the type,” Chris added helpfully. “You know: loud, obnoxious and in your face.”

Phil scowled at his now snickering friends. “He is not. He’s always really sweet and quiet when I talk to him.”

“Yeah?” Chris challenged. “Well, I had a history class with him one time and his own friend asked the teacher if he could change seats because Dan was distracting him too much.”

“Sean said that one time when they were taking a chemistry exam Dan started singing the periodic table. Out loud,” PJ added helpfully.

“He’s boisterous, maybe,” Phil conceded, “But he’s probably hilarious which is why his friend was so distracted and besides, learning a song to memorize the periodic table is pretty smart.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Mate, we could tell you that Dan killed Mother Theresa and you’d just say ‘I mean, she probably deserved it.’” PJ chuckled next to him and Phil simply shot him another dirty look. “Anyway, as much as you love talking about Dan we really ought to move on because me and Peej, well, we don’t enjoy it near as much as you.”

Before Phil could argue PJ chimed in with a, “Help me decide on which one of these posters is better. Mr. Walters wants them up by this afternoon so people have plenty of time to sign up before auditions next month.” He showed them a couple of hand drawn posters, one featuring a more 60’s theme with psychedelic rainbow patterns and little people scattered all around doing various theatre things whilst the other was more focused on space, complete with little aliens all over it. Both said in clear letters “Join this year’s spring musical! All You Need Is Love: A 60’s space drama written and produced by PJ Liguori and Sophie Newton. Auditions after school in the auditorium on 8/8”

“I like the space one,” Phil said.

“No, no. The 60’s is way better,” Chris argued. “It’s more fun looking and approachable. Everybody likes the 60’s.”

“No, everybody likes space,” Phil insisted.

“No, you like space, you big nerd.”

“I think we should ask the cards.”

“Phil,” PJ groaned, “you can’t rely on your tarot cards for every decision you have to make.”

“Yes, I can. I asked the cards and they said it was fine,” Phil smirked, pulling out his deck of Pokemon cards. He was honestly rather proud of them; he had spent an entire afternoon dedicated to learning each of the 56 cards in the full tarot deck and assigning a Pokemon to each one, then an entire month (and more money than he’d care to admit) collecting every single card until his deck was finally complete. He closed his eyes and focused. “Alright, we’re just doing a yes or no question so we can just use the Major Arcana, or would you rather do a full reading with all the cards?”

PJ rolled his eyes, but said, “Just the Major is fine. You can do a full reading when it’s more important decisions.”

Phil nodded, separating out the twenty two cards needed. “Okay, PJ, I’m going to start shuffling. Focus really hard on your question and when you think it’s time, tell me to stop.”

PJ closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and said, “Stop.”

Immediately, Phil quit shuffling and laid the cards out in a neat row. “Is this good, or do you want me to shuffle again?”

“That’s fine. My question is ‘Should I use the space themed poster?’”

“Alright, choose a card.”

PJ chose one fourth from the left and Phil flipped it over, revealing a card of Mew. Phil grinned, before announcing: “You got The World, which talks about your conscious and unconscious joining and how you’re facing an important juncture that will make your path for the future clear. It also means that you’re going to gain true insight to the nature of yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, but is it a yes or a no?” Chris said impatiently.

“It’s a yes,” Phil said with a smug smirk.

“And how do we know you’re not bullshitting us to get your way?”

“Well, if you think about it there was the whole conscious, unconscious thing, and he clearly preferred the space one, considering how much time he spent on it.” They looked at PJ for confirmation who shrugged and nodded with a sheepish grin. “Plus if you have the play be ‘you’, having this decision be insight into the true nature of yourself makes sense since it’s really more about space with a sixties flair than sixties with space themes.” Chris frowned thoughtfully, slowly nodding his head before Phil grinned and added, “Also, you don’t.”

“Why you absolute-”

“Stow it,” PJ hissed. “Mr. Bedsole just walked in.” And with that, the three quieted down to focus on the droning lecture about World War II.

Act I Scene III

“But you said we were going out for coffee today!” Dan pouted at Louise, who, in her defense, looked absolutely heartbroken denying him.

“I’m sorry, Dan,” she said. “I really am, but Chummy says there’s a huge sale going on in Brighton today and I really don’t want to miss it. I promise we can go tomorrow.”

“I do swear that it’s a one day sale,” Zoe added earnestly, looking almost as remorseful as Louise. “I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow to make up for it.”

“That’s all well and good for tomorrow, but what am I meant to do for today?” he whined.

“You could always come with us?” Louise suggested weakly. “We can get coffee at the station to have on the train?”

Dan sighed, quietly enough that the two girls didn’t hear . “As much as I do honestly enjoy going shopping with you two, I’m really not up for a two hour train ride today. However, if you see anything you think I’d like, I wouldn’t say no to some more peace offerings for bailing on me today.”

“You cheeky thing!” Zoe laughed, gently pinching his cheek. “You’re a right mess and a half, you are.”

He batted her hand away with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Seriously, though. What am I going to do today? My mum's going to be out until five or later and I left my key at home. Do you want me to just wander around Reading lost and alone that whole time?”

“Oh, please,” Louise laughed with an eye roll. “Tyler exists, so you know there’s no way you can be bored for too long.”

“My ears are on fire right now,” Tyler sang, joining them at their table. “What are we talking about? Besides me, of course.”

“Well, someone ditched me to go look at- What is it exactly that you’re after?”

“Clothes,” both girls said in unison.

“Going to that Brighton sale?” Tyler asked with a knowing smirk. “I’d join you, but honestly, I don’t want to.”

They all laughed together before Dan piped up, “Anyway, they’re leaving me for clothes and have put my afternoon activities in your command.”

Tyler winced. “I’m sorry, Dan-”

“No!”

“I have a date!” Tyler defended. “And, boo, you know I think you’re the best thing since sliced bread, but you third wheeling me isn’t going to get me laid.”

Dan cast him a betrayed look. “So, basically what you’re telling me is I’m basically screwed? Carrie’s busy with theatre, you’re going on a date, these two would rather pet garments they can’t afford then get coffee with me, and Sean is probably off sucking face with Signe.”

“You could always just follow Phil home and sit outside like a lost puppy and hope he lets you in,” Tyler suggested, somewhat helpfully.

“Why don’t you actually fuck off?” Dan snapped,as his face turned scarlet. “That was one time, okay?”

“You stood outside his house in the rain for an hour pretending you thought it was someone else’s house before you realized nobody was home.”

“That was two years ago!”

“I still can’t believe it happened at all.”

Dan buried his face in his hands to hide his blushing cheeks. “You guys are the absolute worst people in the world and I hate every single one of you,” he groaned.

Tyler reached over and patted his cheek fondly. “Oh, boo, we know that’s not true. Who else would listen to you wax poetic about Phil?”

Again the three laughed together. “I’m still without anything to do this afternoon,” Dan pointed out.

“Can’t you just break in?” Tyler suggested. “I do that at my house all the time.”

“My mom routinely locks all the windows so mine is the only one open and there’s no way I can get to the second floor.”

“You could hang out with Sean and Signe,” Louise offered. “I’m sure they’d at least try to contain themselves while you’re around.”

“Yeah, but even when they’re not trying to climb into each other’s mouth I still always feel like I’m third wheeling so fucking hard. And not like tricycle third wheel either.”

“Why don’t you just go hang out at the coffee house on your own or go nerd shopping?” Zoe recommended. “You have your phone and headphones, right? Just sit in a corner and ignore everyone.”

Dan let out a long suffering sigh. “I guess that’s my only option, unless I want to go to the library or something.” He sighed and complained, “Why is there nothing to do here?”

“There’s plenty to do, you’re just too immersed in your laptop to experience any of them,” Louise laughed. “Chummy and I can always find plenty to do.”

“You have no idea what a town with nothing to do looks like, sweetheart,” Tyler scoffed. “Jackson was like a third this size and a good hour away from anything even remotely interesting.”

“Yeah, well, this place being better than your hometown is zero help right now. Somebody give me something to do.”

“You could just Google it and do the tourist-y things that pop up,” Zoe beamed. “Me and Alfie did that one time and it was loads of fun.”

“That sounds like a really great date,” Dan agreed, a dash of sarcasm in his tone. “However, since I’m a sexually ambiguous nerd who can’t properly talk to anyone outside of you guys, there’s very little chance of me getting a date any time soon. Plus it’s pouring and I wouldn’t want to wander around Reading in the rain even if I had a date.” Tyler took this moment to mutter about how he’d done it for Phil before, but quieted down when Dan gave him a stern glance.

“Well, whatever you decide to do, I wish you luck,” Louise said, taking out her phone to check the time. “However, Chummy and I must be getting on as our train leaves in less than an hour.”

“Bye, Louise. Bye Zoe,” Dan and Tyler chimed together. The two girls laughed and gave their final farewell hugs before leaving, leaving Dan and Tyler alone.

“So, who is this guy, anyway?” Dan asked, picking at his fingernails.

“Uh, his name is Michael and I met him on Tinder.”

“Phil’s middle name-”

“Is Michael. Yes, I know,” Tyler teased. “You’ve told us all more than once.”

Dan merely rolled his eyes and said, “So, Michael. Is this a guy you might actually like to date or is he just a casual hookup?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” Tyler shrugged. “He seemed nice enough while we were messaging but not exactly my kind of guy, you know? I may just keep in contact with him to hang out with on Fridays when I’m bored because somebody is too invested in Mario Kart to go party with me.”

“Please. You and I both know that I’m probably the last person you’d want to go with you to a party. I’d just stand awkwardly in a corner playing on my phone all night and making everyone who dared to talk to me feel bad because they wouldn’t understand a single word I mumbled.”

Tyler cast him yet another sympathetic look and Dan swore he was going to rip his eyebrows out if another person looked at him as if he was the dog they were leaving behind at the shelter. “Have you considered hanging out with Carrie this afternoon? Like, I know you said you weren’t doing theatre this year-”

“The four hours I spent locked in a janitor’s closet for being in the school play said I wasn’t doing theatre this year.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes at the interruption, but continued. “Anyway, you said you weren’t going to be in the play, but I’m pretty sure they’re just doing like pre-pre-pre-play stuff today. Hanging up posters and the like. I mean, it’s something at least.”

Dan considered his options for a moment. While he had sworn off acting for the year, he really liked most of the theatre kids he hung out with last time. Besides, it was completely harmless and he did always enjoy spending time with Carrie. “Yeah, I suppose. Anyway, if it is horrible I can always pretend my grandma is in the hospital or something to get out of it.”

“That’s the Dan Howell spirit we all know and love,” Tyler grinned, clapping him on the back.

This will be fine. What could go wrong?

Act I Scene IV

There was no way this was happening.

“PJ, I can’t go in there,” Phil hissed, physically keeping his friend by his side and out of that room. For in that room sat none other than Dan Howell, looking perfect as always whilst he lounged next to Carrie, who was laughing along at something he said. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be here today!”

PJ shrugged, clearly not seeing the problem and Phil had never felt so betrayed. “He said he wasn’t coming back last year, but maybe he changed his mind. Or maybe he’s just helping a friend hang posters. Who knows? You might if you go in there and talk to him.”

“I can’t let him see me like this,” Phil refused. “I took out my contacts last lesson because my eyes were all itchy and the redness still hasn’t gone down and I look terrible.”

“Maybe he’s into the whole robot look.”

“You’re not helping!”

“Look, mate,” PJ sighed. “You can stay and help or you can go home and sulk, but either way I’ve got to be in there to take charge of this whole shindig and I can already feel Sophie glaring at me for being late. I know you don’t look one hundred percent your best ever but it’s a Monday afternoon after school and nobody looks great, and I swear to god if you tell me Dan looks amazing I will never let you borrow my Legend of Zelda games ever again.” Phil gave him a sheepish grin. “And for what it’s worth your face shape works really well with those glasses and the redness is pretty much gone.”

Phil smiled softly at his friend. “You always know what to say, Peej.”

PJ smirked and winked back at him. “It truly is a gift. Now come on, let’s go hang some posters and get some theatre nerds hyped about a play.”

As the two walked in a kind of hush fell over the gathered students and Phil couldn’t help but notice the panicked look Dan gave Carrie as he passed by them, taking a seat next to Chris and Alexandra. He leaned over to point it out to Chris, but he merely shot him a look before pointedly focusing on PJ and Sophie at the front of the room. Phil huffed; he knew why he was being shushed, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Okay, everyone, thanks for being here!” PJ beamed at the eight students sprawled across various chairs and desks. “We really appreciate your help. Does anyone have any questions?”

“Why don’t you tell them what exactly it is that they’re helping with?” Sophie suggested from behind him with a smile and a fond roll of the eyes.

PJ gave her a crooked grin in thanks before returning his attention to the crowd. “Right, I should. Well, as you all should know the school puts on a musical every spring, and if you didn’t know then you do now. Anyway, as this is our last year Mr. Walters has agreed to put on a play that Sophie and I wrote, and he’s put us in charge of everything from production to advertisement. Today we’re putting up posters around the school to let everyone know about the auditions that are happening next month, giving them plenty of time to pluck up the courage to sign up since that’s probably the hardest part of school plays for a lot of us.” There were a few scattered chuckles, and PJ carried on. “Since there are ten of us and five main areas we need to put these up, we’re going to be splitting into teams of two, and each team is going to get twenty posters to hang up. Yeah, it sounds like a lot, but we want these everywhere. I don’t want there to be a single person at this school who doesn’t know about this play. That means staple them to bulletin boards, hang them up on those weird clothes pin things outside the art room, tape them on every door and stairwell you can find. So yeah, I mean it when I say everywhere.”

“Alright then,” Sophie chimed in. “After that rousing speech, everyone pick a partner and we’ll arm you with a stapler, tape, clothespins, blu tack and more posters than you’ll know what to do with. Go!” Phil swore he saw PJ, Carrie, and Chris all share a look, but he brushed it off to partner up with Chris, only to find that he had already linked arms with Alexandra. He glanced around the room to see that PJ and Sophie were obviously in each other's pockets, Carrie was chatting with Matt, and Tom and Gi were leaned against one another playing some kind of app on Tom’s phone leaving-

“Uh, hi again?”

Phil whipped his head around to see Dan standing in front of him with a bit of red tinting his ears. “Your friend abandon you, too?” Phil chuckled. When Dan didn’t answer and just continued blinking at him, Phil flushed bright red immediately starting to back track. “Not that I’m saying- Well, what I mean is more that- You see what I’m trying to say is-” he finally sputtered to a stop. “Sorry?”

Dan blinked at him a couple more times before realization dawned on his face and he blushed to match Phil. “No, no it’s fine, I promise! I’m not offended or anything! Carrie did totally ditch me to partner with Matt. I was just really distracted by your glasses; I didn’t know you wore them.”

Phil chuckled nervously, scratching behind his neck. “Yeah, they’re- yeah. They’re kinda big and dumb looking so I try not to wear them at school too much.”

“It’s not that,” Dan mumbled, looking down and to the left while shooting Phil looks from beneath his lashes. “They actually really suit you. They make you look really smart I guess.” He flushed a bit darker before adding, “I like them.”

Well, if Phil wasn’t about to pass out before from how adorable and shy Dan looked he definitely was now. Dan liked his glasses. Dan Howell liked his glasses. He took a moment to gather himself before he could blurt out that he was about to call the optometrist and tell her to cancel all his contact orders from now until forever because Dan Howell liked his glasses. “Thanks, that means a lot,” he said instead. “I don’t really like them all that much so they can use all the love they can get from other people.”

Dan sputtered out an abrasive laugh which garnered a couple people’s attention and made Phil’s chest feel like it had been filled with warm helium before Dan slapped his hands over his mouth to muffle it. Phil considered telling Dan his hands would would better suited in Phil’s instead of quieting the music that was his laugh, but decided that was maybe a little forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you wearing your glasses if you hate them so much?”

“Oh, sometimes my contacts can bother my eyes and last period they were really itchy and so I took them out instead of trying to rub my eyeballs into the back of my skull.”

Phil mentally slapped himself for actually saying that out loud, but Dan just giggled. “Well, I hope they’re feeling better. I noticed you had some red in your eyes, so I’m glad it’s nothing serious.”

At the mention of red Phil slammed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. “PJ said the red was all gone!” he whined.

Dan immediately started flapping his hands nervously. “No, no it’s fine! It’s hardly noticeable at all! I only noticed because I was staring at your face up close, and oh my god, I can’t believe I said that out loud. Someone please stop me.” By the end of his sentence Dan was a darker red than Phil previously thought possible and looked just about ready for the world to split in half and swallow him whole. He was adorable, and Phil was about to die.

“Nah, I get it,” Phil chuckled with a smile. “You said the glasses were distracting so it makes sense for you to stare.”

Dan opened his mouth like he was about to argue Phil’s point, but there was a cough behind Phil and they both turned to see PJ standing there with a stack of flyers in his hands and a knowing smirk on his lips. “Well, since the two of you were too busy - um, let’s say talking - to come up and pick an area to work in the only one left is the gym and lunchroom, so I hope the two of you brought umbrellas.” Dan looked absolutely panic stricken at the thought of needing an umbrella, much to Phil’s confusion, but PJ simply carried on. “Sophie has the stuff to hang these up with so you two need to get going or we’re still going to be here when school lets in tomorrow.”

Phil groaned melodramatically and accused PJ of forsaking him and throwing him to the depths of hell, but still smiled and thanked Sophie - who was giggling behind her hands - when he got their tools. The only problem was that Dan was strangely quiet the entire time, and not in the adorably shy way he was earlier that afternoon when they were walking to class together. No, this was more akin to the silence of a man being lead to the gallows, and that just wasn’t going to work in Phil’s book. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dan gnawed his bottom lip for a moment before sighing and saying, “I’m really not sure if I want to tell you. Like on one hand it’s really not that big of a deal, and avoiding it is only going to make it way worse, but on the other hand it’s really embarrassing, and I don’t like talking about it.”

Phil hummed in thought, tapping his chin and looking Dan up and down through squinted eyes. To most it might look like he was just observing the younger boy to come up with some sort of plan, but in reality he was just taking the opportunity to check him out. “What if I hum and then you say it really quickly and if I hear you, I can pretend I didn’t understand and if I didn’t hear you then you at least got it off your chest and you don’t have to worry anymore.”

Dan laughed and smiled so hard his eyes were almost completely closed. “You are such a strange person, Phil Lester,” he said with what Phil was adamantly interpreting as fondness.

“You know, you’re actually not the first person to tell me that.”

Dan rolled his eyes but he still had that grin so Phil didn’t take it to heart. “Unfortunately, that plan won’t work, so I’m just going to tell you, but you can’t make fun of me, okay?” Phil nodded eagerly, knowing that there was no way he could ever deliberately make Dan feel bad about himself. Dan took a deep breath and quickly said, “MyhairisnaturallyreallycurlysoIstraightenitbutwhenitgetswetitgetscurlyagainandit’srainingandIdidn’tbringanything.”

Phil blinked, trying to process what he just heard until it finally clicked and he beamed. “Why didn’t you say so?! You can borrow my coat.”

Dan’s eyes bugged out at the very idea. “I can’t just take your coat! What are you going to wear? It may be a short walk, but you’ll still wind up soaked by the time we get inside.”

Phil shrugged. “Well, any way you look at it, one of us is going to look like a drowned rat by the end of this no matter what. You seem to be a lot more worried about it than me, so why shouldn’t you be the one to stay dry? Besides, I have a change of clothes in my bag since I’m meeting up with my family for dinner after this. Take the coat, Dan.”

“But Phil-”

“Too late!” he sang, pulling his arm out of the sleeve. “I’m taking it off and I’m not going to put it back on until it’s time to leave. If you don’t take it then the poor coat will just sit here and be useless while we both get wet. Do you want my coat to feel that way, Dan?”

Dan giggled at his overreaction, but took the coat with a gentle smile. “Thanks, Phil. I mean it.”

“No problem,” Phil smiled back. “But now you do have to hold the flyers and stuff. Just shove them under your jacket so they don’t get wet.”

Dan nodded and took the papers. “Alright then, let’s do this.”

Act I Scene V

“Oh my god, Louise, it was amazing,” Dan gushed over the phone. He had tried texting Louise but he was way too excited and his fingers kept slipping and pretty much everything he wrote had more exclamation points than actual letters. “How do we have so much in common and I never knew it?”

“Maybe because you only ever stalked him instead of talking and sharing your interests?” she teasingly suggested.

“You can’t tell but I’m giving you a dirty look right now,” Dan pouted, tracing his finger over the numbers written on the Post-It note Phil had given him. “And there will be plenty of actual talking between the two of us now, since he gave me his number.”

Louise squealed across the line. She had never made it a secret that Phil wasn’t her first choice for Dan’s big crush, but she had to admit that the fact that Dan was so over the moon for him was precious, and anything that made Dan happy made her happy. “Oh my god, really? What happened?”

“Well, we had to go out to the gym to hang posters and since it was pouring I was complaining about my hair-”

“Like you always do.”

“Shut it. Anyway, he insisted that I used his jacket to keep dry and at the end of the day it was still raining so he told me to keep it and I could text him about returning it later,” Dan sighed happily, reliving every moment of the afternoon in perfect clarity. “Louise, it was amazing. He’s amazing.”

“Have you texted him yet?” Louise demanded. “You have to tell me everything when you do.”

“I don’t want to return his jacket yet,” Dan admitted. He hadn’t told Louise that it was warm and smelled like Phil and that was why he didn’t want to lose it but he was pretty sure she knew. “What if I text him and all he wants to talk about is getting his coat?”

Louise sighed and Dan knew she was her rolling her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right? Of course he doesn’t want to just talk about that. Giving someone your coat as an excuse to keep talking to someone is one of the oldest tricks in the book. I’m pretty sure it’s been a thing since coats were invented.”

“I don’t know, Louise,” Dan said, biting his thumb nail. “I mean, Phil’s just a really nice person. He was probably just giving me his coat because it was nice. He’s not really the type to play tricks like that.”

“Everyone play tricks, even if it’s subconscious,” Louise dismissed. Dan could almost see her nodding sagely. “He probably did give you the jacket because you needed it, but the phone number was just so the two of you can talk. If he really was only interested in the coat then he would have just set up a time to get it back when he gave it to you.”

“You really think so?” Dan asked nervously. “What if I make a fool of myself and he never speaks to me again?”

“Number one that won’t happen. Number two, even if it does are you really in any worse of a boat? It’s not like you were actually talking to him before this anyway.”

“You’re being super unhelpful and also the absolute worst.”

“You love it. Now text that lion loving nerd and make sure I’m your maid of honor at the wedding.”

“What do I even say?” Dan whined.

“Just introduce yourself, you complete dollop head. Just say ‘Hi, this is Dan!’”

Dan sighed dramatically, flopping back and extending out three of his long limbs. He winced when they all settled into that nice stretched feeling and quickly changed phone hands so he could do that last one as well. “Fine, I’ll do it as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

“Oh, well, in that case my mother has been calling me to come downstairs for about five minutes and I’m definitely not making this up so you have to text Phil.”

“Louise I hate you!”

“Love you, too!” she cackled, sending a couple kissing noises across the line before hanging up.

Dan groaned and glared at his phone for abandoning him, hoping that Louise would somehow be able to feel it. After a moment he sighed and pulled up messages and tapped “Compose”

To: Phil 5:44

hello! this is dan the guy u left your coat with this afternoon lol.

Dan closed the app to open YouTube, not expecting a response any time soon, but before he could finish pulling up his subscription box his phone buzzed.

From: Phil 5:47

Hi!! How was your walk home? Did you stay dry and everything? I would have given you a ride, but I was already late to meet my parents. I’m sorry. :(

Dan took a moment to breathe calmly but quickly gave up in favor of squealing in delight as he rolled back and forth, clutching his phone to his chest. He just had to tell Louise.

To: The Mum Friend 5:49

omg hes so nice. like he asked if i stayed dry on the way home and apologized for not driving me home himself #phillesterangelconfirmed

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:51

dw about it ^-^ i stayed pretty dry. yhanks to you i don’t look like a hobbit reject.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:54

Lol any Hobbit that rejects you is missing out on making their Hobbit village cuter than all the other ones. You can come join my elf city and we can be too tall together.

To: The Mum Friend 5:57

LOUISSE HE CALLERD ME CUTER IM DYING SEND HELPP

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:58

lets be honest wed both be loners. im too tall for the hobbits and ur too clumsy for the elves.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 6:00

Why must you crush my dreams Danyul? :’< I’m not that clumsy

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:02

i think the paint still stuck in my hair from where u knocked me into the art supplies in the prop room would beg to differ.

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:04

Okay, I GUESS that’s a fair point. And hey, as long as we’re outcasts together that’s not too bad in my book. ^-^

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:04

my my phillip r u flirting with me?

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:05

That depends entirely on if it’s working :D Hey, by the way, what lunch do you have?

Dan frowned at the sudden topic change, but shook his head and went along with it for now.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 6:06

i have 2nd y?

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:07

You do? That’s the same one I have? How come I’ve never seen you? D:

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:08

probs because i sit with my friends and we try to avoid human interaction lol

From: Phil the Actual Angel 2:10

Same, honestly. Do you think you and your friends would want to come and eat lunch with me and mine tomorrow? We usually sit out under the tree next to the front office.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 2:11

i am so sorry can i answer you in a sec my mum wants me

Dan took a deep breath, trying not to panic. He quickly dialed up Louise and waited with bated breath as it rang again and again and again and again and ag-

“Dan? What can-”

“HE ASKED ME TO EAT LUNCH WITH HIM TOMORROW!” Dan shouted before she could finish her greeting.

“Wait, hold on a minute. Who did what now?”

“Phil! He asked me to eat lunch with him tomorrow!” he repeated in a much quieter but no calmer tone. “Well, actually he asked me to ask all of you if you might be interested in eating lunch with his group tomorrow. What should I even say to that? ‘Yes, I’d like to eat lunch with you tomorrow and every following day for the rest of our lives’?”

“You could always just say you’ll ask,” she said with an underlying laugh. “I don’t see a problem with us sitting with them, though. All of us like meeting new people so it should be fun.”

“You mean it? Everything will be fine?”

“I’m sure of it, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll wallop them on the head.”

“You’re the best, Louise.”

“I know it. Now go set up your lunch date already.” And with that the line clicked dead and Dan was once again left alone with his phone.

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:14

sorry! my mum is v demanding sometimes T_T but yeah lunch tomorrow sounds great! all my friends like meeting new people so it should be lots of fun

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:16

Don’t worry about it! ^-^ So you want to just meet at the tree or in the lunchroom or what?

To: Phil the Actual Angel 5:18

i think we can find our way to the tree so that should be fine ^-^ see u tomorrow!

From: Phil the Actual Angel 5:20

It’s a date!

Dan gaped at his phone for a moment before calling Louise yet again to scream.

#phan #phanfiction #Phanfic #Phanfluff #high school au #slow burn #friends to lovers #light angst #mutual pining #Bee Writes

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jflashandclash · 6 years

Text

The Attrition of Peace

Forty-Three: The Pax Brothers

We Crash the Wrong Person’s Vacation

Note: I do something a little different with the point of view in this chapter. I hope it isn’t too distracting! Let me know if it is!

In the ensuing chaos—of Alabaster snarling a quick, “Dawn will make your ghosts worthless,”

And the boar with a bowtie withdrawing a pocketwatch from a pocket that involved cartoon logic to say, “Oh, my good boy, we have plenty of time,”

And Reyna’s and Melinoe’s troops engaging—Pax frantically searched for his friends who were less trained in the art of not dying during war.[1]

He didn’t catch sight of Kally or the others as Reyna and Alabaster shoved him and Axel backwards across Camp Half-Blood’s boundary lines. But, he did see another figure.

Off to the side of the Roman wedge formation and the line of ghosts, there was a girl with a leather jacket, multi-colored hair, and a crowbar and sledge hammer in either hand. Atë didn’t have her usual bounce to her, nor her serial-killer-doll stare. Her shoulders slumped. She looked sad while waving her crowbar at Pax in some form of parting. Either that or a threat. With his family, you could never be sure.

Despite being out of breath, Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He turned from Atë, the ghost army, and the Roman defenses and ran alongside Axel towards the creepy pit of nothingness and frowny faces that had destroyed half of Hera’s cabin.

He and Axel donned their helms for ease while running, the Silver Tongued Snake’s head narrowing his peripheral with more darkness. He stayed close to Axel, knowing his brother had better spooky time vision.

As they stumbled back through what was left of the strawberry fields, towards the central hearth of camp, Pax wondered if this was the best choice. He hadn’t thought the ultimatum would be—A: let Euna vacation in Tartarus or B: abandon his friends to a ghost army and the Roman army, both of which probably wanted to kill them.

Pax snapped back to the present when Axel hissed, “You didn’t tell me campers were up.”

Ahead of them, Pax could see one of the many lumps had risen from the ground, hopefully a camper.

Without breaking stride, Axel sprang over the camper, using the camper’s shoulder for balance. Meanwhile, Pax skid between the campers legs and rolled back into a run. In their split second of passing the camper, Pax recognized the trembling child of Hermes as Chris Rodriguez. And he was pretty sure the Leonis Caput and Silver Tongued Snake had just made Chris pee his PJ pants. Memo to self: mock Chris forever.

“In the words of Alabaster,” Pax responded as they saw the gaping hole in front of Cabin Two. Several sleepy campers gathered around it, gawking down and saying they needed to find Chiron. “’Jack’s voice wasn’t exactly soothing.’”

In retrospect, Pax wished he’d have said something cooler when they bolted past the gawking teenagers. Like, “Zeus’s farts smell like Aphrodite’s perfume,” since neither god would know which one he’d insulted, or “Weasels forever!” to commemorate the Triple W team that he, Axel, and Alabaster had left in the Paxmobile.

He didn’t have time to add on before Axel stepped into the narrow corridor with Pax following after. With each step down, the walls narrowed. By the time Pax counted step fifteen, he could feel cool stone press against the arms of his weasel sweater. The light from the campfire above them had dwindled to a mocking hint of glow off Axel’s golden helm.

With that and the dim light of Pax’s celestial bronze daggers, all he could see was the looming Nemean Lion pelt descending ahead and the red plumes of the helm undulating in the tunnel’s slight breeze. Pax remembered stories of the Leonis Caput “stalking the labyrinth,” as the monsters liked to call it—the monsters that placed bets on how Pax’s brother would kill Roman captives.

After Pax saw Axel win his first coliseum fight to secure their entry into Camp Othrys, Axel forbid Pax from attending the whole “stalking the labyrinth” shindig. Something about how Pax wasn’t old enough to watch R rated films? Pax had never thought about it much, since it was prime prank time, but now, he wondered if this was how the Roman victims saw his brother.

The updraft blasted Pax’s face with the smell of… seawater? Why seawater? It would be awesome if Euna took a detour to some beachfront real-estate, but that didn’t seem to fit the whole bent on godly destruction thing.

Axel stopped moving.

Pax could taste salt when he swallowed. He got the uncomfortable urge to scramble back up the stairs, until the plumes on the Leonis Caput helm faded into the darkness.

“I can’t see where we’re going,” Axel said. Pax could hear his brother puff his cheeks.

Pax swallowed again, trying to rid himself of the ocean taste. Something felt wrong about the smell of openness in this black confinement. “Aren’t you supposed to have like, bat sense or whatever?” he squeaked.

“I’m not sure this is part of the labyrinth,” Axel said, “If it is, either something is blocking my view, or it hasn’t linked fully into the network yet. I’m not sure how this works if Jack bent the labyrinth to his will. The labyrinth is a living thing. It doesn’t like to be controlled.”

Axel’s voice trembled and Pax slowly put the pieces together. Cages. Confinement. Control. Santiago.

Pax wanted to tease Axel for getting claustrophobic, but that would be like punching a honey badger in the nose: both upsetting because honey badgers are cute and because they are incredibly dangerous.

“There’s a door here,” Axel finally said, “Be on your guard.”

“Oh, I wanted to relax with Reese’s Sticks and Kool-Aid the whole trip to Tartarus,” Pax whispered.

The door didn’t open the way he was expecting. Instead of hearing the click of a knob or the ominous swing of a dungeon gate like Pax had heard in video games, the barrier gave way noiselessly.

The brightness blinded the Pax brothers when they stepped out of the darkness. Instead of some dank cavern, they exited into overcast sunlight. The brothers paused to allow their eyes to adjust to the brilliance, their bodies to the warm breeze, and their noses to the intensity of salt and smoke.

When they’d adjusted, neither moved. Both were too stunned.

They were on a huge ship.

A grey ocean bled into a colorless sky every direction they looked. Parts of the deck were smoldering, the smoke curling to disappear into the bleached landscape. Various charred boards looked like they were patched together with broken dreams and wishful thinking.

There was a hollow carnival atmosphere to the ship, like an abandoned theme park. A pool was in the center, filled with crystal clear water and formerly white patio chairs with blue towels scattered around. A bar extended from the deck into the pool for easy access.

Before the Pax brothers recognized any of the people drearily shambling past the broken spots in the floor, they saw the posters on the bar shack’s outer wall: one was for an Orpheus Metal concert. The depiction of Jack’s maniac grin above his emaciated body felt uncomfortable. Axel and Pax looked so much younger with their drums and guitar. That was back when Axel had long hair in a ponytail and Pax had pink highlights.[2]

A few feet away, another poster depicted Percy Jackson with a drawn on mustache. Several knives and tail spikes protruded the wall, illustrating someone’s target practice.

Axel didn’t need to see the mast’s statue of a princess in chains to state, “This is the Princess Andromeda cruise ship.”

They both puffed up their cheeks and popped them.

Axel and Pax removed their helmets and attached them to their belts so it was easier to look around.

Pax felt himself tremble. He glanced at the door they’d come through, only to find a Johnny Rocket’s entrance. The circular window in the center of the door showed the remains of a food fight in the restaurant. But there were no grinning Camp Othrys members. Just a few people scrubbing the floor with their heads down. Something about them looked familiar.

“But… but why is it here? And… and how? Did the whole ship decide to take a joy ride out of Tartarus? Are we in Tartarus already?” Pax whispered.

Axel shook his head. He clenched his jaw, trying to pretend the sight of their dilapidated ship didn’t bother him. “What did Jack say when he sang?”

“What? The song about geography?”

“No,” Axel shook his head, “It’s about being there for a lover and conquering geography to get to them, right?”

“I don’t listen to old people music and I was a little preoccupied with the earth splitting to listen to lyrics. But, if it was something about that, then why are we on a ship looking for Jack’s lov—”

Then Pax saw her.

He felt like he’d eaten a full backpack’s supply of walnuts. The world tunneled until everything was fuzzy but her black, jagged hair and her mutilated, scarred face. Pax didn’t know he’d stopped breathing until he gasped out, “Flynn.”

She was mopping the deck, staring at the boards with that icy, absent glare she often got when Jack wasn’t around. Like when he’d last seen her at the Massacre of Mount Othrys, her legs and lower waist looked crippled and crushed from where Jason Grace had blasted a pillar onto her and Krios, and from when Pax couldn’t protect her like he’d promised Jack he would.

The random shades doing chores on the boat weren’t strangers. They were their friends that died during the war.

Pax could feel his cold sweat when Flynn looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes softened for an indiscernible moment, then they narrowed. Get the fuck out of here, she mouthed.

Yep. That was Flynn.

But Pax couldn’t move. He felt too nauseous. He wanted to curl up and sob on Axel’s arm, but he also wanted to never touch another human again.

Axel would have normally noticed his brother’s increase into hyperventilation, but movement from one of the only non-ghosts aboard distracted him.

A beautiful woman stretched out on one of the white beach chairs. There was another non-ghost beside her, lounging on a chair facing away from them. All Axel could see was the man’s muddy sandals.

She folded up her tanning reflector, set it on the stool beside her, picked up a bottle of suntan lotion and a fruity drink, and stood.

For an instant, Axel thought it was Reyna. The woman’s hair billowed in loose, black waves down her back. A complicated, revealing purple swimsuit clung tightly to her caramel skin, one with way too many unnecessary straps. Something Reyna would never wear.

“Fei Lin, my wonderful daughter, you missed a few spots on the deck. And you forgot it’s rude not to properly welcome guests,” the woman said with a warmth of a pillow used to smoother puppies.

She’d walked up to Axel before he smelled the aroma of roses intermixed with the smoke and seawater.

Faster than he could block, Aphrodite slapped him across the face with the bottle of suntan lotion. “You,” she said with the same tight sweetness, “scorned me for a demigod. And not just any demigod, one that gets all sweaty and gross from fighting too much, and reads really boring books!”

Axel thought about breaking Aphrodite’s neck. The more childish side of him wanted to uncork that suntan lotion bottle and pour it on her hair, since he knew it would make her squeal and amuse Pax.

But Pax was trembling so violently, Axel feared the shakes might dislodge a floorboard and drop them into the mess hall. Pax probably wouldn’t notice Aphrodite’s cringe.

They didn’t have time for the Goddess of Love. He hadn’t registered that she’d stopped her night visits when they got to New Rome. Too much had happened.

And this wasn’t the place for a confrontation. He needed to get Pax away fast.

Axel focused on Aphrodite’s ear, to prevent himself from identifying any of the ghosts around them, and to decrease the effectiveness of her love magic. Despite his attempts, he was furious to find himself thinking about nipping her lobe.

“Why did you bring us here?” he demanded, trying to find something wrong on Aphrodite to ward off any attraction.

“Eris brat, take this,” Aphrodite instructed, handing the bottle to his little brother.

Pax squeaked as the charmspeak took over. He reflexively extended a trembling, sweaty hand. Tears streaked down his cheeks when he glanced from the goddess to Flynn, who had gone back to swabbing the deck.

Aphrodite began to rub herself down with the lotion, moving her straps in a way that made Axel avert his gaze. Each motion was so deliberate and tender. He tried to picture Reyna’s face when they were cleaning up the war tent, the way her cloak had loosened on one side to look goofy and lopsided, the strands that had come out of her braid—

“Stop that,” Aphrodite snarled, the sweetness temporarily dissipating. When Axel glanced back at her, she went back to smiling and applying lotion.

“I didn’t bring you here. I was just having a pleasant, quiet vacation with one of my lovers and your friends interrupted it. The Plague Bringer and the clueless daughter of Demeter, right?” She sighed and went to flip her hair, though the locks had shortened to a dark, pixie cut and her eyes shifted from dark to brilliant blue. “It seems like Jack was looking for his love as a way to lead him and his friend to Tartarus. Oh, Jack and Flynn’s love story!” She grabbed the suntan lotion from a flinching Pax and hugged the bottle to her chest. “Such a delightfully tragic one. Just a pity the heroine forsook her beauty and cut up her face.”

Flynn had stopped mopping. She glared at her mother in a way that told Axel—if Flynn’s charmspeak worked on Aphrodite, Flynn would force her mother do worse than cut up her face.

“Flynn’s still beautiful,” Pax whispered.

Aphrodite dabbed the lotion along the ridge of her brow and gave the bottle back to Pax. He jumped. “That’s cute and sweet of you to say that, Ajax. Peitho[3] and I were wondering if saying that makes you feel better about what happened.”

“Which way did they go?” Axel interrupted. Out of all their fallen comrades, Pax had the hardest time with Flynn. Pax could make jokes about everyone else, and reminisce on stories, or cry about how much he missed Alabaster, but never anything about Flynn. Axel didn’t need Aphrodite teasing his little brother when the dead girl was in front of them.

A glance down at Pax confirmed Axel’s suspicion. Pax was biting his lip to keep himself as together as the softhearted kid could.

“Hm?” Aphrodite asked, “Did you say you wanted my help?” In a gesture that looked absentminded, she took the suntan lotion from Pax and motioned it towards Axel. Meanwhile, she licked the rim of her fruity drink.

Axel had nothing to bargain. He could try to kill her again, but that had left him on his knees, pining over her for weeks. He knew what she wanted, but he could never humiliate himself like that. As much as the smell of her perfume made him want to droop his eyes, they were surrounded by the destruction caused by negligent, vengeful, and sadistic parenting by her and gods like her.

A thunk came from the chairs by the pool. Aphrodite’s boyfriend stood up, stretched, and slung an AK-47 across his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt over his muscles, but did have a scarf tied around his head to hide his face, like a Somalian pirate. His sunglasses blazed with a backlit fire. Just the sight of him made Axel furious.

Aphrodite sighed and tossed her suntan lotion onto the ground.

“Oh, you’re not going to be able to follow your friends off this ship. If you want to tail them, you’ll have to go a different route, assuming I let you,” Ares said, smirking.

Axel scowled. Any worry he had about Aphrodite’s wiles evaporated in the presence of the war god. He reflexively went to grab his sword hilt, only to remember that all his weapons other than his obsidian blades were in pieces in the Paxmobile. He didn’t even have his frying pan.

“What in Xibalba are you doing in Tartarus?” Axel snarled.

“What in Tartarus are you doing in Tartarus,” Pax corrected quietly.

The war god gave a billowing laugh. “We’re not in Tartarus! What? Did you forget I control the souls and vessels of all the fallen losers in battle? Hades and I had a field day—”

“—Fields of punishment day—” Pax said.

“—drawing lots on who got your crew.” Ares reached over and ruffled Flynn’s hair. Axel could feel her hatred. He remembered how she’d publically humiliate people if they dared to initiate contact with her at Camp Othrys. Well, everyone other than Jack or Pax.

Although Axel hadn’t always agreed with Flynn’s brutal methods, he found himself wondering how he could free her and the rest of his crew from servitude to this godly child. But where else would their souls go? Could they have a worse fate?

Ares released Flynn. He cracked his neck. “I couldn’t justify getting Jack though. He had to get his own specialized eternal torment. Though, it looks like he’s got the Orpheus curse now.”

As much as Axel wanted to obliterate his least favorite couple off this ship, Euna and Jack were getting further away every second, and Pax looked closer and closer to a mental breakdown.

Axel set a hand on his brother’s arm.

Pax flinched.

Axel withdrew and frowned. “Ajax, let’s get out of here. I’m sure we can find another labyrinth entrance somewhere on the ship. I think we had one in the boiler room.”

If there was one thing Axel knew gods hated, it was being ignored. He went to gently corral Pax towards the Johnny Rocket’s entrance.

“Oh, you think I’m going to let you go after you helped Hephaestus gather the parts for his giant rat trap?” Ares asked.

Rat trap? Axel paused. He remembered Hephaestus hiring him for a retrieval quest in exchange for the location of Leo Valdez.

“Ugh, Stygian ice is SO bad for your skin!” Aphrodite complained. When Axel glanced back, he could see both she and Ares rub their arms at the distasteful memory.

Despite everything, Axel crackled a smile. He hoped Hephaestus enjoyed hatching whatever trap he’d concocted.

Pax released a nervous laugh. Since Axel had directed him away from Flynn, color started to return to his face.

Ares seemed too relaxed with their reactions. The war god lowered his hands, resting one on the pistol grip of his rifle. “I gotta hand it to you, kid. Normally, I like punks like you with all of your spirit and anger—”

“—oh, it’s monologuing time—” Pax said.

“—but, at least pricks like Percy are useful. You… I haven’t hated anyone as much as you since Ghandi.”

“Give me a medal of honor,” Axel grunted.

“After upsetting this fine lady—” Ares gestured beside him to where Aphrodite was examining her perfect nails like she wasn’t part of the conversation. “—I’ve been thinking a lot—”

“That must have been very difficult for you,” Pax said sympathetically. Axel probably should have stopped Pax’s side commentary, but he was a bit too proud of his little brother to do so.

The war god seemed unfazed as he finished, “—thinking about what to do with you.”

“I’ve beaten you before, Ares,” Axel reminded him, struggling to ward off a smirk.

Though… Axel wasn’t sure he could defeat Ares now. He had no weapons but his claws and teeth. He was exhausted from fighting Percy and Reyna. And he needed to keep Pax safe and hunt down Euna and Jack. Plus, there was the ghost army at Camp Half-Blood with Reyna…

Axel thought about continuing to ignore Ares to find the closest labyrinth entrance. Then every ghost on this ship—all their dead friends—would be sent after him and Pax to drag them back to the deck.

He was not in the strategic position to smirk. Axel sighed.

“No… no…” Ares chuckled and unslung his rifle. As though to emphasis how unnecessary the weapon would be, he leaned it against the closest patio chair. “You’re not going to fight me. See, I’ve been Googling the best godly punishments. Normally, I just kill people.” Ares shrugged. “But I found out Hera had a way more brutal suggestion.”

Axel wanted to make some snarky comment about a 4,000 year old man going to his mother for advice, but the words died on his lips.

“Some little myth about a guy named Hercules? Something about his first family…?” Ares said.

Aphrodite giggled.

Axel couldn’t puff up his cheeks and pop them. His insides felt frozen.

Ares couldn’t do that, could he? That wasn’t normally in Hera’s department of power either but, she was the queen of the gods—

But Axel could already feel his claws lengthening without his consent.

From the energized grin on Ares’ face, the god knew what Axel was thinking. He slung an arm over Aphrodite’s shoulder and pulled her close as they watched Axel struggle with himself. “I know you love to hunt and battle, kid. Now you’ll hunt and battle the things that you love. I think that’s well within Aphrodite’s and my domain.”

Throughout their trip down Jack’s corridor and onto the ghost ship, and—really—throughout most of his interactions with the Greek gods, Axel hadn’t been scared. Annoyed and enraged? Definitely. Now, for what Axel thought was the first time ever, he found himself trembling in fear before a god.

When Pax saw Axel’s shaking hands reach up and clutch his head, Pax asked, “Um, Lord of Primordial Awesome?”

“Ajax…” Axel whispered, “Run.”

We’re almost at the end! Only one chapter and an epilogue to go!!!! :D Thanks for reading! *ehem* please don’t kill the author.... >>’‘

Footnote:

[1] As Mel pointed out: books Pax should write.

[2] This is actually a continuity error from Ch 21, Blood of a Mayan. Making a note here for me to fix it (since I care deeply about my character’s hair… apparently?) XD

[3] Goddess/personified spirit of persuasion, seduction, and charming speech.

#Traitors of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #HOO #PJO #fanfiction #The Attrition of Peace #Pax #Axel #Chris #Ares #Aphrodite #And this is why the Triple A Chimera can't sleep at night ^^#And why I'm terrified of what my characters will do to me if they ever come to life >>''

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existentialkendall-blog · 7 years

Text

Sharpie Soulmates (Soulmate AU)

Pairing: Kickthestickz Wordcount: 2.3k Rating: bad language, but nothing to cry about

Request/Prompt: Whatever you write on yourself appears on your soulmate but disappears from your skin. Pj is always covered in horrible pick up lines and crudely drawn dicks. While Chris is covered in doodles and gets an occasional 'fuck you' or 'you're a dick' on himself from pj. Eventually they meet when Chris writes 'I have a small dick' on his forehead and sees pj.

A/N: Request a fic here, click a like down there. This isn’t youtube people, you guys aren’t stupid enough to need to be told what to do

At first, PJ doesn't notice the harsh black lines on his skin. Usually flecks of paint adorn his skin, and consumed with work, he doesn't spend a lot of time thinking about himself. It's always the next idea, the following project, the bigger picture. When it first happens he doesn't see it until it's almost faded. On his right ankle, the small crude pen drawing of a dick, moving whenever he flexed his foot. It's repulsive, and for the first few seconds he's confused. Then he grabs the closest sharpie, and traces the image hoping it will go away. Since it's on his skin, a replica over the top might send the drawing back to it's owner. It doesn't, and now he's marred someone else with pornography. He throws the pen down in frustration and licks his finger, rubbing at the spot. It doesn't do anything. When he's in the shower, some 8 minutes later, he has an epiphany of sorts. He's just made contact with his soulmate, and the first interaction they had was matching ankle dicks. PJ groans, head falling back against the shower wall in annoyance.

___

It's strange, but paint doesn't transfer or leave his skin. It's only pen, ink. So when he's painting a cardboard box white, because he found a stash of the boxes yesterday, he's almost disappointed that he can't stay clean. "Is this for a new video?" Jamie asks, bent over his shoulder and watching the paint transform the conventional brown to a clinical white. Could be an office, a space station, a hospital. Most of the time he sticks with the brown, but for some reason he was in the mood for painting a calming white. PJ nods, still thinking about a video idea, "Yeah. I've got something in mind." "Cool, let me know when you've figured everything out," PJ nods again, "Also... What the hell is that?" Alert due to the shift in Jamie's voice, he turns and looks at his friend confused, then his eyes trail down and he sees it. 'Stop, drop, and roll, baby. You are on fire' Written on his arm in chicken scratch font, thick because it'd been gone over several times with the pen. "I..." He trails off, "I. I think that is my soulmate."Jamie pats him on the back in congratulations. "Well done."As soon as Jamie's retreating back leaves the room PJ scribbles on his arm 'You're a real dick' It doesn't take long for the message to receive a reply, and when it does PJ's irritated groan is possibly louder than yesterdays. 'I do have a real dick! Did you like the preview I sent you yesterday? Judging from your eager response I'd say yes' He bites his lip while writing, lower down then before so the words flow like a conversation on the other persons skin, smiling because even though the person on the other end is annoying the crap out of him, his soulmate is a boy. A man. He's never been with a guy before, and it's exciting yet nerve wracking to know he will be. 'Oh so that was a scale copy? I'm so sorry that you didn't grow during puberty like the rest of us' PJ reads the next piece of writing, grinning even more, then goes back to painting. When Sophie asks him later why he has 'YOU HAVE A BIG COCK???' taking up three quarters of his forearm, he flushes a pretty pink and laughs awkwardly.

___

On the second day he nervously asks 'What's your name?' The pen flips restlessly in his hand, patting against his black jeaned thigh until the name appears on his other arm, because as PJ quickly learnt, the love of his eternity is left handed. 'Chris' Huh. Chris. With the pad of his index finger, he traces each letter tentatively. When he reaches the end he repeats the motion, hovering over the capital C that seems so much more magnetic than the other letters. 'And yours' PJ's eyes soften and his mouth turns up at the corners. Yours. His. Mine. And then he understands the question and uses his green fine liner to trace 'PJ' adding several layers of ink so it's bold and bright and him.

___

The problem is, PJ's a doodler. One trait that's been fluid since he was a child is that he loves to doodle. Especially on his skin. In fact, some of his best drawings were conceived that way during school; too tired to care about the subjects and too unprepared to bring extra paper. Skin was there for him when paper was not. He couldn't kick the habit when he entered University, and he sure as hell can't kick it now when he's a year in. Frequently he finds himself sitting with a pack of felt tipped Crayolas, or no name fineliners, drawing small, and large, designs on his left arm. For the past week it's been no different. What's annoying is he liked seeing the efforts of his creative process on his arm, wearing it like a tattoo, a badge of honour. But it disappears quickly, and he has to start again. Chris leaves him a critique one day running across the centre of his wrist. 'You're an incredible artist' It takes PJ by surprise. He's used to waking up and finding thickly inked penises on various locations on his body, or cheesy chat up lines that have PJ rolling his eyes but smiling fondly. Several of his favourites include; 'There are a lot of fish in the sea, but you’re the only one I’d like to mount' 'Oh no, I’m choking! I need mouth to mouth, quick!' 'I’m on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?' Needless to say, every written sentence and poorly thought out line, no matter how disturbing or rude, is both irritating and endearing.

___

That is, until the guy buys a six pack of sharpies. Beforehand it was ballpoint pens, stuff he was able to wash off easily. Not now. When he steps into the shower one morning, eyes blearily searching for the shampoo to wash the sleep out of his frenzied hair, he thinks everything is fine. There aren't any markings, and to be honest, that's a relief because they're a bitch to wash off every morning. It's when he's out of the shower and in front of the mirror, towelling down to get rid of the individual water droplets that trail down his chest, that he catches the black in the corner of his eye. 'My hand belongs here' PJ's jaw drops and he's stuck still for a few fleeting seconds. "What the fuck." It's on his neck. Not on a small scale, but like the Joker's writing, jagged and uneven. Backwards in the mirror, but PJ has magicked up enough mirror demons to read reversed. Almost blinded by rage and incredulousness, he's about to charge out of his tiny bathroom and write something way more offensive on his own body for Chris to have scar his skin for the days it takes for Sharpie to wash off. But then he spots 'Wanna go for a test drive?' on his hipbone as he's turning to leave. And then, 'Insert finger here' complete with an arrow pointing down to his asshole. It's almost illegible, how he managed to contort his body enough to scribble it on is beyond him. Amazed at Chris's audacity and carelessness he dashes out to his desk and plucks a bright blue permanent marker up. As he's writing a long list of complaints on his leg, and then rising up to his chest, he feels the similarities to writing film reviews on IMBd or letters of complaint that his parents used to do. Except, this is to the guy he's destined to be with, and he knows the complaining won't do jack shit to change his behaviour. ___

It's relatively peaceful for a while. PJ it still littered with pick up lines daily, the 'My bedroom has an interesting ceiling, I could take you on a guided tour' and the 'When are you expected back at Heaven?', and PJ still absently doodles on the curve of his wrist and palm of his hand, forgetting that Chris will see it until it's already sent. During this time he's been uploading more to YouTube. It's still in it's early stages, but he's grateful for the site because he's getting much more experience. Due to work, and YouTube, and constant creating, he hasn't really thought about meeting Chris. Although they're talked (if you can call it that) every day, they haven't discussed personal details, or their future together. Because if they're soulmates, they have to be together, there's no way they can be with anyone else.

___

PJ wakes up stupidly early, the sun hasn't fully risen yet and the sky is a dusty grey, illuminated by yellowing streetlights. He forces himself to get up, and leave the house before 6:00am. The train to London leaves at 7:00am, and he wants to get coffee from the station before the journey. He pulls on his favourite green sleeved t-shirt slowly, bones cracking at the movements, and when he slides his socks on the fading purple dick on the base of his foot makes his smirk. Fully dressed and he's in the bathroom, tiredly dragging a toothbrush and staring at the sink with half closed eyes. He's out for the whole day, all four of his 'team' are. It's both research for a short film they're making for his Uni course, and a golden opportunity to meet with some sponsors that might fund his next big personal project. Until. "FUCK!" PJ yells, toothbrush falling from his open hands and eyes wide. "No! No, no, no," He wets a flannel and starts rubbing at his forehead, shaking with anxious frustration. The pen won't come off. 'I've got a small dick' is going to be permanently tattooed on his face in all the colours of the rainbow for the entire day. He adds soap and tries again, heart pounding uncomfortably. He can't meet sponsors with that filth tainting him. "Chris, you fucking asshole, I'm going to fucking kill you," PJ mutters, giving up, leaving his skin a red mess. He shoves a beanie on, and leaves the house with a scowl firmly fixed onto his face. His travelling companions don't say a word, even though they heard his angry explosion of profanities earlier. They get to London and shoot some footage in Hyde Park, brown boots hitting grey pavement as the scenery begins to change and the crowds grow thicker. He's actually forgotten that he's mad at Chris, too busy laughing at the stupid faces his friends are pulling, and running along the grass for various nature sequences. After a few hours they stop, and decide to head to a café. It's a warm spring day, and he peels off his beanie to stop his head from overheating. From where he's stood in the queue, he can see his friends take the leather sofas at the end of the shop, claiming it for their group only. One persons order is fulfilled, one step forward, the queue gets smaller. He can feel his fringe sticking to his forehead and he wipes it aside, grimacing at the damp strands that he knows will be several shades darker then the rest of his hair. At first, he doesn't notice the guy staring at him next to the floor to ceiling windows. He's wearing a baby blue striped t-shirt, coupled with raised eyebrows and messy hair. On the high table next to him is an abandoned coffee, keeping warm under the beating sun from outside. He's still there when they leave, PJ's hat clutched between his fingers because it's too freakin hot to put it back on. His camera bag is slouched across his body, and he's grinning at something Sophie says, when a hand clamps his shoulder and he turns around. The stranger that had been watching him is gaping open mouthed at PJ's forehead. That's when he remembers what Chris wrote, and he's going to explain, he swears he is, but the guy is hot. His floppy brown hair is messy above green flecked hazel eyes, and his mouth is practically begging to be... put to use. "I can explain," He finally breathes out, making an effort to stop staring at the stranger. The guy quirks an eyebrow and crosses his arms, as if to say go ahead, I've got all day. "See, this thing, y'know-""Let me stop you right there," He smirks, interrupting PJ's garbled rambling. From his pocket he pulls out a thin marker and in sloped, disjointed text, writes something on his palm. Then he takes PJ's slender wrist in his hand, circling it with his fingers, and turns it around, his thumb drifting idly down his wrist and resting over PJ's pulse point.

you're PJ what's on your forehead is a work of art just like your face I'm fated to love you

"Do I get a hello kiss or do you not put out on the first date?" Chris smiles wide and his other hand, the one not sliding into his own palm and curling around his fingers so they entwine, is reaching around his waist. PJ blushes and manages a "Public," Before slipping out of his grasp. "Oh c'mon honey, it's gonna happen sometime," Chris whines, high pitched and strung out. PJ shakes his head, and walks away from Chris. He follows him, long legs catching up quickly. He throws an arm around PJ's shoulders casually and leans down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss on the side of his cheek. "You and me Peej, we're gonna fuck away the world." PJ rolls his eyes, brain automatically lending the words dick, and you're a. But he rejects his instinct and goes for a muttered "You should feel so lucky." "Oh I will. Later." It's natural, seamless, right. Chris is his. He is Chris's.

Part 2

#kickthestickz #fanfiction #fanfic #chris kendall #pj liguori #crabstickz #kickthepj #crabstickztag2

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mrs-iruka · 7 years

Text

Oh Happy Day

Happy Hogwarts Day to all you witches and wizards in the Phandom! This is a gift to mark the occasion. Today is the day the epilogue in Deathly Hallows takes place, today, Sept 1, 2017 is the day Albus Severus, and Scorpius Malfoy go to Hogwarts for the first time. This was supposed to be one massive oneshot, but I've run out of time, so I'm going to break this down into chapters - hopefully there'll be 3-5 chapters. I hope everyone enjoys this.

It's finally September 1 and Dan and Phil are returning to Hogwarts for their last year. A new boy threatens their relationship, or does he?....

Link for AO3

Phil’s first thought upon waking is ‘today is the day.’ Today, he was returning to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You see, Phil wasn’t just an ordinary boy. No, Phil was a wizard, who upon returning to Hogwarts, would be entering his last year at the wizarding school. He was also returning as Head Boy too.

Phil wasn’t just excited to return to the castle that he called home, he was excited because he’d finally be seeing his boyfriend again. Phil had been ‘dating’ Dan Howell for about a year now. Dan was a Gryffindor, and the Keeper for their Quidditch team, whilst Phil was a Hufflepuff and couldn’t fly to save his life! During first year when they’d had their flying lessons, Phil had ended up in the hospital wing with a broken arm and leg, and a fractured clavicle. Needless to say, that was the last time Madam Hooch had allowed Phil near a broomstick. That now seemed like a lifetime ago.

During the morning whilst Phil was finishing up his packing, a noise coming from the proximity of the window made Phil give a startled squawk of surprise. He hadn’t been expecting to see Dan’s owl, Archimedes, sat on his windowsill with a letter hanging out of his mouth.

“Archimedes? What are you doing here?” muttered Phil in concern.

He quickly hauled himself off of the floor in front of his trunk, and legged it across his stupidly large bedroom to the window and opened it. Archimedes hopped inside and ruffled his feathers importantly. Phil rolled his eyes at the bird’s behaviour, quickly snatched the letter away, and tore it open.

Hey Phil,

Are you awake? Are you ready to go back to school? he read.

Phil grinned. Boy wasn’t he ready! He was so ready to get back to Hogwarts, he’d missed being able to use his wand again this summer, as well as he was missing his Dan too.

Phil, I didn’t want to do this by letter, but I can’t do this face to face…

Phil felt his heart drop into his gut, this was it. It was over between them. Phil felt his knees give out and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he felt sick, but Phil took a deep breath and continued reading.

...so here goes… I LOVE YOU… There I said it!

Phil let out a great shuddering breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and tears slipped down his cheeks. Phil read and reread those three words over and over until he felt lightheaded and giddy. He couldn’t believe that Dan had actually said it first, Phil always thought he’d be the one to say those three magical little words first.

See you on platform nine-and-three-quarters, sweetheart.

Love, Dan xxx

Phil collapsed backwards, letter clasped to his chest, and tried to regain some composure. Now he truly couldn’t wait to see his Dan.

Finally it was time for Phil to leave to go and catch the train from Kings Cross station. His mother was taking him on side-long Apparition. Phil hated the sensation of Apparating, but he knew he would have to get used to it as there wasn’t a cat-in-hell’s chance of him ever flying on a broom. Just before leaving, Phil’s mum hadn’t failed to notice the huge smile that was plastered all over her son’s face.

“What’s that huge grin for?” asked Phil’s mum Kath jovially.

“Just happy to be going back to school, is all,” replied Phil.

“Anyone would think you didn’t like being at home,” teased Kath.

“Nah, I don’t, I can’t use magic,” Phil sassed back.

“Ouch, my heart,” cried Kath dramatically before bursting into laughter.

“Mum!” laughed Phil before giving her a light shove.

“Only teasing love. Now come along, take my arm and we’ll get going,” said Kath, looking at her watch.

Phil took his mother’s arm and he closed his eyes. Upon arriving at the safe point in an abandoned warehouse behind the station, Phil landed clumsily, and nearly fell backwards over his trunk which his mother had sent on ahead. Phil heard someone laughing richly behind him. A smile returned to Phil’s face, and his eyes went warm. He knew that laugh just about anywhere. He whipped round and found his Dan stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Phil painted a mock glare onto his facial features as he stared at his boyfriend.

“Nice to see you too!” said Phil, mock crossly.

They just stared at each other, drinking in the sight of each other since last they saw each other. That had only been a month ago when they’d met up in Diagon Alley to get their new school supplies. But a month was a long time when you were in love. They’d corresponded, of course they had, but actually seeing that one person in the flesh... well that was just the best.

Kath hadn’t missed the way her son’s entire face had lit up when he saw Dan. He may not have said anything, but she knew, and over the years she’d come to see just how much they complemented each other, and how good they were for each other too. Plus, she loved Dan like one of her own. She couldn’t wait to be able to freely say how happy she was that they were together, so for now she made do with her usual motherly greetings.

“Hello, Dan, how are you, my boy?” asked Kath with a grin.

“I’m very well, thank you Mrs Lester,” smiled Dan.

“Good. Looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts?” asked Kath of Dan.

“Yeah, I’ve really missed my four poster in my dorm,” replied Dan with a wink.

Kath grinned hugely. She knew that was code for, ‘I’ve missed your son.’ But it had been a very busy summer for the Howell’s. They’d spent a good portion of the summer in Egypt, as Mr Howell worked as a Cursebreaker for Gringotts and he’d decided to take his entire family with him. Kath, meanwhile, had packed the family off to the dragon sanctuary in Romania to go and visit Phil’s older brother Martyn for three weeks. The Lester’s had then returned to go to the Quidditch World Cup - so all in all, it had been rather an action packed summer. Kath grinned to herself, and felt it was time to let them greet each other in the way they would like.

“I’ll just wait outside for you,” grinned Kath and headed for the door.

It wasn’t until she was out of earshot did either boy speak.

“Do you ever get the feeling that your mum knows?” asked Dan.

“You think?” asked Phil, biting his lip.

“Hey, if she does, she doesn’t seem to mind, does she?” replied Dan as he ran his thumb across Phil’s bottom lip to smooth it out.

Phil looked up into melting chocolate pools, and he felt his heart turn over in his chest. Merlin, he was so so in love and his chest felt like it would burst because of it. Dan closed the gap between them, lips met lips, and they both melted against each other. Arms wrapped around Dan’s waist, whilst hands found purchase on Phil’s face. Finally they pulled away, and Phil placed his forehead against Dan’s.

“By the way, you spoon, I love you too,” whispered Phil.

“You got my note then,” smiled Dan.

“I did. I never thought you’d be the one to say it first though,” admitted Phil.

“I’ve missed you so much this summer, and I wanted this year to truly mean something, y’know?” asked Dan.

“I know, I do too,” said Phil softly, before kissing Dan again.

Finally, they were on the train, finally they were on their way to Hogwarts again. Phil, being Head Boy, had had to go off and have a meeting with the Prefects. Dan found a compartment with their friends PJ Liguori, who was a Ravenclaw, Chris Kendall, who was a Gryffindor, Louise Pentland, who was also a Gryffindor, Along with Eliza Sutton, who was a Hufflepuff. Also the twins, Zoe and Joe Sugg who were also Hufflepuffs and Zoe’s boyfriend Alfie Deyes, who was a Gryffindor. Dan was happy to be catching up with all his and Phil’s friends, but he’d be happier when Phil returned.

“Holy Circe, he’s got it bad,” Eliza teased Dan. He’d been sat staring at the compartment door for the past two minutes. It took Eliza to actually wave a hand in front of Dan’s face to pull him out of his reviere.

“Huh?” asked Dan, as he focused on Eliza instead of the door.

“You, you got it bad for Phil!” laughed Eliza.

“Have not! I’ll have you know, I was trying to decide when to hold Quidditch tryouts, seeing as I’m Quidditch Captain now,” said Dan forcefully.

“Yeah, right,” smirked Eliza.

“Eliza, leave him alone, if he wants to pine, let him pine,” butted in Louise with a giggle.

“Urgh, you guys are the worst,” muttered Dan.

Just then the compartment door slid open and Dan’s head whipped round to see who was stood in the threshold. Unfortunately, it wasn’t who Dan had been hoping for.

“Yes, Ridgewell? Something we can do for you?” asked Chris, wand drawn.

Thomas Ridgewell was a seventh year Slytherin who liked to think he was tougher than he actually was.

“Put that down, Kendall, before you cause an accident!” started Tom. “And fyi, I’m here to let young Daniel know that I am Slytherin’s new Captain.”

Dan groaned quietly at this piece of news. No good could ever come of Thomas Ridgewell being Captain for the Slytherins.

“Congratulations, Tom, I look forward to competing against you this year. I would shake your hand, but I might catch something!”

“Fuck you, Howell,” stormed Tom before slamming the door shut.

Seconds later the door slid open. Again, Dan’s head whipped round so fast, it surprised everyone he didn’t give himself whiplash. This time it was exactly who Dan wanted to see, his Phil. His smile almost split his face in two. Eliza made pretend vom noises.

Phil wandered in and plopped down next to Dan. He was exhausted now. As soon as he was sat, Phil’s head found Dan’s shoulder and he closed his eyes.

“Tough meeting?” whispered Dan.

“It was the worst!” mumbled Phil.

“Why?” asked Dan.

“The new fifth year prefects,” groaned Phil. “Especially the Slytherins.”

“Who are the new prefects?” asked PJ.

“For Hufflepuff, Dodie Clark and Oli White. For Gryffindor, Luke Cutforth and Niomi Smart. For Ravenclaw, Jim Chapman and Tanya Burr. For Slytherin, Felix Kjellberg and Marzia Bisognin,” recited Phil.

“I’m glad Jim and Tanya got the prefects roles for Ravenclaw, they’re good people,” smiled PJ. “Though I am surprised at the other choices, particularly Slytherin!”

“I’m not surprised at Dodie and Oli,” chipped in Joe. “They’re good kids too, and Dodie is hella talented.”

“Who’s Head Girl by the way?” asked Louise.

“Carrie Hope Fletcher of Gryffindor,” replied Phil.

Louise smiled happily at that.

Conversation ran on around them. Dan chimed in from time to time, but Phil was just happy to sit with his head resting against Dan’s shoulder for the remainder of the journey.

At long last, they were pulling into Hogsmeade station. As they disembarked they could hear Hagrid, stood the other end of the platform, herding the first years towards himself to take the across in the boats. Meanwhile, Phil had had to meet up with Carrie again to make sure everyone had left the train, before heading to the carriages themselves and travelling towards the castle. Finally they arrived just as McGonagall had stepped forward to open the doors to the Great Hall. Finally Phil felt like he was home.

Phil quickly found Dan and linked fingers before heading into the Great Hall. Together they entered and stopped to admire the star and candle strewn ceiling. Dan raised Phil’s fingers to his lips and gave them a quick kiss before going to their respective tables and awaiting the first years to arrive; which Dan hoped wouldn’t be too long as he was starving.

Finally the Sorting ceremony was over. From a chamber off the Great Hall, a guy with lavender coloured hair appeared.

“Everyone.” McGonagall started. “This is a new student, Tyler Oakley, and he is joining us this year from Illvermorny. We have done a private Sorting earlier today, and Mr Oakley will be joining Gryffindor house.”

Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table as McGonagall led Tyler towards the house in question.

“Mr Howell,” called the Headmistress as she approached the other seventh year Gryffindors. “Would you please look after Mr Oakley for me?”

“Of course Professor,” smiled Dan.

Once McGonagall gave a nod of approval and started to move away, Dan introduced himself, and the feast began.

“Hi, I’m Dan,” said Dan with a grin.

“Tyler, it’s nice to meet you,” said Tyler as he offered a hand to shake.

“So how come you transferred?” asked Dan curiously.

“My ma and pa both work for MACUSA and they had to move to England for their job - I don’t actually know more than that,” shrugged Tyler.

“Well, we hope you’ll be very happy here,” said Dan.

Meanwhile, Phil was trying to crane around people’s heads and see what was going on at the Gryffindor table.

“Phil? Eat something,” said Eliza, tapping his empty plate.

“I’m not hungry,” said Phil distractedly.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Phil, you need to eat dinner,” snapped Eliza.

“Huh? What?” asked Phil coming back to the conversation.

“I said, stop being so fucking stupid and eat dinner! Dan isn’t about to have an affair at the Gryffindor table!” said Eliza irritably.

“Eliza has a point, Phil. You need to eat, honey,” piped in Zoe.

“Okay, okay, stop badgering me,” said Phil good naturedly. “Besides, I’m not being stupid, I’m just curious is all.”

“Yeah right,” said Eliza to no one in particular.

“Why do I put up with guys?” asked Phil as he grabbed a handful of chips.

“Because you love us, and if you didn’t, you’d be a billy no mates!” winked Joe.

“Shut up, that was a rhetorical question,” laughed Phil.

At last the feast was over, and everyone was looking forward to getting into their dorms and crashing out for the night.

Phil waited in the entrance hall for Dan so he could say goodnight. Except Dan was so deep in conversation with Tyler that he didn’t see Phil. If it hadn’t been for Phil darting after Dan and putting a hand on Dan’s shoulder, he wouldn’t have stopped at all.

“Phil?” asked Dan looking confused for a moment until he realised what was happening and where he was. “Oh my Merlin, Phil, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Dan pulled Phil into a huge hug.

From behind them they heard someone not so subtly clear their throat. Phil pulled away from Dan and looked for the source of the interruption.

“Oh, Phil, this is Tyler. He’s going to be joining us in Gryffindor tower,” said Dan rather unnecessarily. Phil had been present at the feast.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” said Phil as politely as he could.

“Phil is also Head Boy, and my boyfriend,” said Dan with what sounded like a hint of pride in his voice. This caused Phil to grin and stare lovingly at the boy by his side.

“Oh so this is the gorgeous creature you were telling me all about at dinner,” grinned Tyler.

Phil felt heat rushing into his cheeks at Tyler’s words.

“All good I hope,” laughed Phil.

“Of course, like I’d ever say a bad word about you!” chortled Dan.

“Anyway, I need to go, being Head Boy means I have to patrol the corridors tonight for stragglers,” said Phil wryly.

Dan quickly pulled Phil into his arms again and hugged him tightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you, Phil.”

“I love you too, Dan,” whispered Phil from the proximity of the crook of Dan’s neck.

“No duelling anyone, and take care,” laughed Dan as he pulled away.

“You know I won’t if I can really help it. Remember, it’s not me that starts it, usually,” laughed Phil.

“Bye, Phil, It was nice meeting you,” said Tyler as he and Dan moved away up the grand staircase.

“See you tomorrow,” said Dan, his voice a loving caress.

The next day Phil left the Hufflepuff common room a bit earlier to meet Dan, who would be coming down from Gryffindor tower. Phil sat in an alcove and waited for Dan to appear, whilst reading his new textbook of Astronomy.

“Morning, love,” said Dan spritely when he appeared.

“Morning,” said Phil shyly, and he promptly tucked his book away in his backpack before rising to his feet.

Dan pulled Phil into a hug and gave him a sweet peck on the lips.

“How was patrolling last night?” asked Dan as he linked fingers with Phil and started leading him to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Quiet, thankfully,” replied Phil.

“Good, I hate when you have patrol, I always worry about you,” stated Dan in concern.

“I think I like you worrying about me,” said Phil as he watched a first year go tearing by. “Excuse me a mo.”

Phil unlinked their fingers and strode fast after the lad that had just gone cannonballing past him.

“Excuse me, young man. Stop please, this is your Head Boy,” called Phil loudly.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks and turned with frightened eyes towards the tall figure that was Phil Lester.

“Okay, so first off, what’s your name?” asked Phil.

“Troye Sivan,” stuttered the boy.

“Hi, Troye, I’m Phil. Can you tell me why you were running in the corridors?” asked Phil kindly, the boy looked frightened enough, without spooking him more.

“I was trying to get away from… from… him!” said Troye pointing into the middle distance behind Phil.

Both Dan and Phil whipped around to find Peeves the poltergeist, floating along chucking pieces of chalk. Phil sighed, and straightened up.

“PEEVES IT’S ONLY THE FIRST MORNING AND ALREADY YOU’RE INTIMIDATING THE FIRST YEARS. KNOCK IT OFF BEFORE I FIND FILTCH OR MCGONAGALL!” shouted Phil loudly.

Peeves being Peeves, he blew a loud, wet, raspberry at Phil before flipping Phil the bird and zooming away.

“That poltergeist is a bloody menace, I swear,” said Dan shaking his head. “Merlin knows why they allow him room in this castle sometimes.”

“Okay, Troye, he won’t bother you again. Now let’s see... you’re a Ravenclaw. Hmm, in future though, please don’t run. I know he’s a menace, but we don’t want any accidents, okay? Nor do I want to have to put you in detention if I can help it. Off you go!” said Phil, and watched as the first year made a now sedate walk down the corridor. Phil linked fingers with Dan and carried on down to breakfast.

“How was Tyler’s first night?” asked Phil out of the blue.

“Fine as far as I’m aware. He was still asleep when I left though, so I’ll have to ask him later. Why?” replied Dan as he swung their joined hands between them.

“Just curious,” shrugged Phil.

“Oh, okay, you were curious?!” smirked Dan. Dan knew full well what the questions were all about.

“I was trying to be nice,” said Phil putting his nose in the air.

“Come here,” said Dan suddenly pulling Phil into an a passage behind a tapestry. “Phil, you don’t need to worry, okay? I only have eyes for you.” Dan then pulled Phil in for a passionate kiss. “I’ve been dying to do that all morning.”

Phil pulled away after the kiss broke and smiled hugely at Dan. “How about we miss breakfast altogether?” whispered Phil seductively. The sensation flew right to Dan’s groin, causing him to groan.

“Don’t fucking tempt me, you tease,” groaned Dan again.

“Come on then,” said Phil, after checking the coast was clear to emerge from behind the tapestry.

With hands linked, they made the rest of the journey down to the Great Hall unhindered.

The next few days seemed to fly by in a blur. One minute it was lunch, the next it was Wednesday night and Phil was atop of the Astronomy tower. The next it was Thursday, and Phil was in a meeting with the Head Girl and the house prefects. By the time Phil woke up Friday, he was glad it was almost the weekend, it was just a shame about the mountain of homework he’d accumulated already. He’d not seen much of Dan all week except at meal times and Potions the day before. Phil groaned and pulled the hangings around his bed open, and reached for his wand so he could check his watch. It read six-thirty-five. Groaning again, Phil scrubbed his face with his hands and started his daily morning routine.

By the time Phil arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, unprecedented Dan had already beaten his down, and he wasn’t alone this morning. Tyler was sat chatting animatedly to Dan. Dan looked totally engrossed in whatever Tyler was saying too, so Phil decided not to bother them and went and sat immediately at the Hufflepuff table and poured himself a nice hot coffee. Minutes later, Phil was joined by Eliza, Zoe and Joe.

“Morning, Lester,” yawned Eliza as she made a grab for the coffee.

“Hey, Sutton,” said Phil tiredly.

“Morning, Phil,” chimed Zoe and Joe together.

“I swear to Merlin, it’s so creepy when you two do that,” complained Eliza.

Both Zoe and Joe grinned identically at Eliza.

“How come you’re not sitting with Dan this morning?” asked Zoe, changing the subject.

“He seems rather busy just now,” Phil muttered.

This caused Zoe’s head to whip round just to see what Phil was on about. Upon clocking Dan she could see he was deeply engrossed in conversation with Tyler about something.

“Bloody hell, I wonder what they’re so engrossed about,” said Joe with a frown.

“Bloody Quidditch!” said Louise, who was coming over to join them.

“Ah!” said Zoe, who turned back to nursing her coffee.

Phil just sat and watched Dan until Eliza gave him a shove and told him it was time for Charms.

#phanfiction #Phanfic #fluff and angst #hogwarts!au #phan crossover #Dan and Phil #phan

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hopeishappinessff · 7 years

Text

Chapter 28

I awoke to a soft and warm sensation inching slowly up the side of my thigh. I was drunk with sleep and could barely comprehend what was going on. This thing, this hand, continued to creep further up the length of my leg and I squeezed my eyes shut with hopes that the feeling would go away. Eventually, I felt a body straddle me and I held my breath as whoever the person was leaned forward and aligned their face with mine then placed their lips just centimeters from my ear “Merry Christmas Hope. Wake up and let’s go see what Santa left under the tree.”

The voice was deep and sounded disturbingly familiar and I could no longer resist the urge to snatch my eyes open. I stared into a pair of striking emerald orbs and jerked my body up to get Destani off of me. She fell backwards on my bed and laughed hysterically along with Tameka who emerged from her hiding spot at the foot of the bed. I tried to maintain a straight and irritated expression, but failed miserably and couldn't help but laugh “Dez, why would you do that?” “Oh my… girl! That was too funny… I had to do it. Me and Meka was up planning that shit last night and I just had to do it.” She huffed. “And you can’t lie,” Tameka chimed in from the edge of the bed through her hearty laughter, “She sounded exactly like Chris, I mean exactly. She was up all night tryna imitate that nigga and she finally got it. That was good boo!” She slapped her hand together with Destani’s and they both continued to cackle.

I shook my head and climbed out of bed, reaching down to grab my pajama pants from the floor. “Damn girl, that ass lookin right though!” I swung around, caught off guard once again by the sound of that voice, but frowned and squinted at Destani as she doubled over with laughter against Tameka who laughed right along with her. Once I finally managed to calm the two down, we were finally on our way out of my room and down the stairs to the den.

Much to my surprise, Ms. Joyce, Tootie, Desean, Ms. Cynthia, and Imani were all in the den each with bright and shining faces. They were all sitting and conversing, waiting for the three of us to come downstairs so that we could open gifts. My eyes roamed throughout the den and I promptly spotted Chris perched comfortably on the arm of the loveseat with Desean planted on his knee and Imani cuddled up next to him on the couch. He seemed to be deeply engaged in conversation with them and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The kids were both absolutely thrilled about the plethora of gifts Santa had left for them under the tree. Chris seemed more than excited to partake in their banter and he bounced lightly in his seat as he spoke, with Desean giggling at his every move.

As if on cue, Chris raised his glossy eyed gaze from his discussion with the kids and instantly locked eyes with me. He stared with a curious smirk before turning his attention back to the kids as they both tapped at his shoulders, searching desperately for his attention. “Alright ya’ll… are we ready to start opening these gifts?” My aunt asked as she stood from her spot on the long couch. Forgetting all about their conversation, Desean jumped down from Chris’s lap, Imani leapt from the couch and they both bolted toward the gifts, only to be halted abruptly by Chris’s hands latched onto the backs of their pj’s.

“How about you two calm down before you either hurt yourselves or tip the tree over.” He said with a tone full of mirth. “Boy you know you used to do the same thing when you were little, up until about last year. You probably about ready to take off for them gifts too… you just don’t want everybody in here to see you acting like a little boy.” Ms. Joyce said, resulting in a son with blushing cheeks and a room full of laughter. Chris continued to pull the kids back until they were sitting on the couch and he walked over to retrieve a gift for each of them..

Later in the afternoon, everyone was dressed and ready for the day as more people began to arrive at the house. My aunt, Ms. Joyce, and Ms. Cynthia had all ventured off to the kitchen to prepare the feast, leaving Destani, Tameka, Chris and I in the den to entertain the kids and our guests. I found myself deeply absorbed and focused in a race against Desean with a race car set that his uncle had gotten for him. He happened to share a passion with Chris that I would never really understand… they were both infatuated with cars. And of course Chris thought the most sensible gift to get for his nephew was the Carrera Evolution Porsche GT3 Challenge set that I’d helped him pick out months ago.

With it costing well over two hundred dollars, I was skeptical about playing with it at first, but because Desean had inherited the persistent and convincing habits of his uncle, I couldn’t help but give in to his charm. The two of us had even drawn spectators with the commotion of the race. “Yes! I beat you again Sy! You owe me five dollars.” Desean shouted, bouncing up and down on his knees and throwing his little arms around in the air after his riotous defeat. Playfully rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked “Whatever De… you cheated anyway. I saw you move your car up right before we started.” “Nuh-unh… don’t be a sore loser. Just give me the money and I won't rub it in your face that I won two times.” He exclaimed with two fingers held high in the air. “Fine,” I sighed exasperatedly, “Just remind me to pay you later because I don’t have five dollars right now.” “Okay… I won’t let you forget.” He said somberly, causing us to all laugh.

“Man chill, you know you cheating!” Within seconds we’d all turned our attention to the entertainment center, where Dontay and Chris sat nearby on the floor engaged in a pretty serious game of Madden on Chris’s new Play Station. I laughed at the sight of Dontay pointing frantically at the television screen and yelling in Chris’s face, as Chris sat there smirking innocently as if he hadn’t done a thing wrong. “Nobody is cheating Don,” He stated calmly as he turned to face Dontay,” You… just… suck.” Dontay tossed his controller down on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest with a deep scowl “And you owe me ten.” Chris added, still staring at him with a victorious smirk.

“No I don’t B… for what man?” Dontay whined. “Dude, you know we made a bet right before we started this game. Don’t sit here and play like you forgot… just run me my money and we won’t have no problems.” He placed a hand against Dontay’s shoulder and shook it before pushing himself up from the floor and walking over to the race track. “Uncle C, look,” Desean hopped up from the floor and rushed toward Chris, jetting a finger out behind him to show off the evidence that he’d won his race against me, “I won and Diyah owes me five whole dollars!”

With a glance in my direction, Chris swiped his tongue out over his bottom lip and smirked “I told you. If you just listen to your uncle man… you’ll always win.” “You really told him to sit here and beat this girl out of five dollars like that?” Destani asked as she stared at Chris with her mouth agape. “No, I taught him how to be a winner. He won… so now he gets his money.” He smiled impishly and reached out to slap hands with Desean before turning and walking out of the den.

The sound of the doorbell nearly went unheard over the commotion from the dining room table as we all enjoyed the lovely Christmas feast. Excusing myself from the table, I quickly made my way to the front door because I had a small inkling of who it was… I didn’t bother to bite back my grin the moment I opened it to find Trey standing handsomely on the porch totting a box and gift bag. “Hi,” I squealed, throwing myself halfway out the door to grip him into a hug, “I didn’t think you were coming.” “Why wouldn’t I baby girl?” He whispered as he plunged his face into the side of the bushel of curls atop my head. “I don’t know. I just didn’t think you would.” I blushed. “Well no need to worry… I’m here now.” He pulled away to peer down at me and quickly leaned forward to deliver a quick, sweet peck to my lips.

“Do you want these now or later?” He asked, trailing along behind me into the house. Once I locked the door, I turned to see that he stood only a few feet behind me holding up the box and the bag. “Oh, um… later. I still have to get your gift… it’s up in my room.” I said before directing him into the den and showing him where he could place the gifts. Once he placed them in their rightful place, I showed him to the kitchen and didn’t slow down for a moment from my eagerness to consider just who was sitting at the kitchen table...

With Trey standing proudly at my side, we marched into the kitchen and he instantly caught the attention of my aunt who rushed forward from the table to greet him. “How you doing sweetheart? Have you eaten anything today, are you hungry? We got plenty of food here, go ahead and help yourself to whatever you want.” She placed a hand against his shoulder and tenderly pushed him forward toward the food, barely giving him time to reciprocate her greeting. There was an unmistakable burning glare coming from the other side of the room and I instinctively raised my gaze in that direction, immediately regretting it the moment my eyes landed on those piercing golden orbs.

Chris had just rotated his blank stare from Trey to me, all the while remaining cold in his posture. I could sense the resentment in his glare and if looks could kill, Trey and I would have been out the moment we crossed into the kitchen. Unable to bear the heat of his stare, I turned my attention to my aunt as she giggled with Trey and happily situated a plate for him. Through my peripheral I could see Chris rising abruptly from his seat. My hands became clammy and my heart started to race as he sauntered toward me. Guilt suddenly set in as he silently walked past me, so close that his shoulder brushed against my own.

“Hey, where do you want me to sit?” Trey asked, breaking me from my shameful daze. “Oh, um… you can sit in here.” He trailed along behind me as I made my way to the table, nearly sitting him in a secluded corner. The following minutes felt like hours and I could feel sporadic glances from Destani across the table. I was entirely too afraid to look at her… I knew she was confused by Trey’s presence in the house and I couldn’t bear to see even a slither of disappointment on her face. I soon turned my attention to the entrance of the kitchen when I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Chris rounded the corner fully dressed in a black skully, his jacket, and his boots with his keys dangling from his right hand.

Not bothering to turn his attention to Trey or I, he bee lined straight for his mom and cleared his throat “Aye ma, I’m about to head out.” “Why you leaving so soon baby?” She asked, rising from her seat. “I have to go take care of some things… I may come back later or something.” “Well alright baby. You sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer?” She urged, concern masking her tone. “Nah, I have to go.” The fact that he was so persistent prompted Ms. Joyce to zip her lips and give up her argument. She took a hold of his arm and together they headed out of the kitchen and to the front door.

Feeling the strongest urge to take a moment to myself, I excused myself from the table and quickly made my way upstairs to my room to retrieve Trey’s gift. I stepped into the room and flipped the light switch on, making my way to my closet to grab the gift. On my way out, a light blue object in the center of my bed caught my attention and I stopped in my tracks to further investigate. Easing down onto the edge of the bed, I squinted at the scripture on the side of the bag and gasped as I made out the words Tiffany & Co... Completely confused by the sudden presence of the bag, I reached for the tag dangling from the side...

To: Hope From: Charlie

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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compare-wp10 · 4 years

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Censorship Has Mutated During Coronavirus Pandemic

See on Scoop.it - COMPARE RISK COMMUNICATION

Censorship, Pandemic Style Censorship is unfortunately alive and well during this pandemic madness, taking on a variety of mutated forms as it participates in the various rights-trampling parades going on in America. We have seen the petty tyrant governors and mayors use this time to overreach and cavalierly brush aside constitutional rights in the name of safety. The First Amendment has been particularly roughed up, with the free exercise of religion, free speech, and the right to peaceably assemble all taking major hits. Matt Taibbi — not exactly a rightwing stalwart — warned last month of what he called the “Inevitable Coronavirus Censorship Crisis.” He was responding to a rather insane and disturbing article in The Atlantic that was basically making the case for adopting a more ChiCom approach to dealing with internet speech. That’s right, a venerable American publication was advocating for more censorship. The ChiComs themselves aren’t letting the crisis go to waste. Pro-commie establishment members of Hong Kong’s parliament are pushing legislation to censor and punish any language mocking the mainland’s national anthem. As I wrote last weekend, social media platforms are using the pandemic as an excuse to censor any voices that run counter to the preferred narrative. There is to be no real free speech or debate about how we should proceed through each new phase of dealing with the pandemic. Each of the major platforms has opted to be tools of the various states and prop up whichever arbitrary shutdown rules are in place. The media bias we’ve seen during all of this is a perverse sort of self-censorship that the MSM hacks are doing to themselves. They’ve been running with whatever the official word from China is, and surely they know that the censoring is kind of baked into the cake with that deal. It’s always amazing to see American “journalists” be drawn to the types of ideologues who would be the first to shut them down. This may not be directly related to the coronapocalypse, but it happened on Monday. The United Nations took some time to offer the great unwashed a list of words that we should no longer say. I’m not really sure which part of the UN’s charter lays out why it should be in the censor game, but then I still haven’t figured out what in the hell they have to do with climate change. The shutting down of church services is a form of censorship as well, and I can’t help but believe that the Democratic governors have enjoyed keeping the church folk away from worship just a little too much. Thankfully, saner legal heads seem to be prevailing on that front in the last couple of weeks. The policing of speech had become worrisome long before this pandemic hit us. The danger now is obviously having some of these more tyrannical types make some new permanent censorship rules. Speech that’s censored today may very well remain censored when we emerge from this rough patch. I’ve been fighting censorship since I first started doing stand-up and it’s a battle I’m willing to wage until they find a way to shut me up. PC Police Step Up Efforts to Completely Ruin Stand-Up Comedy This Ought to Work Out Well Many low-wage workers earn more on unemployment than in their former jobs https://t.co/jMwBs9efgG pic.twitter.com/7iKO5Hq9KX — CBS News (@CBSNews) May 19, 2020 PJM Linktank My Tuesday column: My Last ‘Obama Is the Worst’ Column This Month (I Think) HILARIOUS: Trump Campaign Mocks Biden. Journalists Don’t Get the Joke Texas Reopens. What’s Really Happening With Its COVID-19 Numbers? Sheriff Revolts Against Lockdown: ‘We Are Not Stormtroopers. We Are Peacekeepers’ And not just for fun. Wow! Guess Who’s Taking Hydroxychloroquine? Donald Trump! God wins. Again. Hallelujah! Church Lawsuit Forces Oregon Governor to Re-Open EVERYTHING Ben Sasse Picks the Correct Fight With His Democrat Challenger Shock! Pensacola Shooter Turns Out to Be Al-Qaeda Operative Who Plotted His Attack for Years SANITY: New Jersey Gym Owner Defies Lockdown Order and Cops Refuse to Stop Him The Real Coronavirus Timeline Liberals Don’t Want You To See China Threatened Dan Crenshaw. Now He’s Demanding Sanctions. Attorney General Barr Just Made Major News on ‘Obamagate.’ You’ll Want to Sit Down for This Trump Didn’t Botch the Coronavirus Response, Andrew Cuomo Did VodkaPundit: China Orders New Wuhan Virus Lockdown Because They Beat COVID-19, Honest Quarantine them in a jail. Why Did New York Infect America With Coronavirus? New Report Blames Cuomo, de Blasio FBI ‘Mistakenly’ Reveals Identity of Saudi Diplomat Suspected of Aiding 9/11 Jihadis Anti-Lockdown Champion Elon Musk Just Picked a Side and It’s Glorious Obama Fired an Inspector General to Cover Up a Sex Scandal and No One Said Boo About It Liberals’ Direct Cash Payments Promise to Do to Main Street What They’ve Done to the Black Community: Crush It ‘Joe Has Absolutely No Idea What’s Happening’ It Is Very Strange That General Flynn Was Unmasked Almost 50 Times VIP VodkaPundit, Part Deux: Giving Government the Finger: Americans Ending the Shutdown on Our Own Terms VIP Gold The Tragic End to Deshone Kizer’s NFL Career…And It Began Where QBs Usually Go to Die The Emotional Toll Social Distancing Has Taken on People Should Not Be Underestimated From the Mothership and Beyond I like this story. The internal watchdogs Trump has fired or replaced Excellent. Oklahoma Governor Signs Bill Banning Red Flag Laws School District’s Fight For Armed Teachers Heads To OH Supreme Court NZ Gun Crime Rates Soar Following Gun Bans GOP Governors Rip McConnell Challenger for Partisan Attack Ad I’ll binge-watch this. Graham Moves to Subpoena Brennan, Clapper and Other Major ‘Obamagate’ Players Pelosi’s Strange Reason for Not Wanting Trump to Take Hydroxychloroquine Katie Hill Threw a Tantrum Because Republican Mike Garcia Won Her Vacant Seat Rep. Jim Banks: ‘Shameful’ Dems Are Focused on Going After Trump Instead of Holding China Accountable Leader McConnell Taps Rubio to Lead Senate Intelligence Committee Amid Burr Investigation The Misleading Attack From CNN’s ‘Reliable Sources’ on Fox News’ Coverage on Flynn and COVID-19 Petty Tyrant Update. Ohio Governor Reveals How State Will Respond to Businesses Not Complying with Restrictions WATCH: Crowd Cheers New Jersey Police After They Refuse to Cite Violators of Lockdown Order Trump to the WHO: I’ll Permanently Pull U.S. Funds From the Organization Unless… James Woods: Trump ‘Loves America More Than Any President in My Lifetime,’ Obama Admin Was ‘Scum and Villainy’ Twitch Thots are Horrible but They’re a Symptom, Not a Disease When Even CNN Gets There’s a Problem in the Flynn Case, But the Judge Doesn’t, You Know It’s a Problem LA County Public Health Director Isn’t an M.D.; Why Do These Official Websites Say She Is? Petty Tyrant Update II. Bill de Blasio Threatens Fences Around NYC Beaches and Warns Swimmers They’ll be ‘Taken Right Out of the Water’ Kira Davis: I Don’t Want To See One More Damn Coronavirus Commercial #MouthBarf: Who’s Ready For Michelle Obama’s “Prom-Athon” With MTV? Um…Feminist Susan Faludi: “Believe All Women” Is A Right-Wing Straw Man That Liberals Don’t Actually Embrace Navarro: Let’s Face It, The CDC “Really Let The Country Down” In The COVID-19 Crisis Eric Trump: Dems Have A Very Deliberate Strategy To Use Social Distancing Rules To Prevent Trump From Holding Rallies Gov. Gavin Newsom, ready to lay off first responders, kicks off coronavirus assistance for illegal aliens He’s not owned! He’s not owned! Ezra Klein corncobs himself trying to pretend he didn’t get trolled by Trump campaign’s ‘Truth Over Facts’ site Losing. Their. MINDS! Chris Cillizza calls Trump ‘an unlikable jerk that gets stuff done’ and the Left breaks out pitchforks and torches Oh. 2 professors warn using wedding pictures as Zoom background is a “microaggression” Poland marks centenary of St. John Paul’s birth Bee Me Back To Normal: Conservatives Go To Work While Liberals Stay Home https://t.co/GKabQNFVrM — The Babylon Bee (@TheBabylonBee) May 18, 2020 The Kruiser Kabana pic.twitter.com/cq0yyGR9yy — Archillect (@archillect) May 19, 2020 Let’s treat Taco Tuesday with the reverence it deserves, people. ___ Kruiser Twitter Kruiser Facebook PJ Media Senior Columnist and Associate Editor Stephen Kruiser is the author of “Don’t Let the Hippies Shower” and “Straight Outta Feelings: Political Zen in the Age of Outrage,” both of which address serious subjects in a humorous way. Monday through Friday he edits PJ Media’s “Morning Briefing.” His columns appear every Tuesday and Friday.

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naysmusings-blog · 6 years

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Courtney

*I wish that whoever is pounding on those drums this early would stop. Groaning, I attempt to open my eyes, but quickly slam them shut against the brightness of the sunlight streaming into the room. I also quickly realize that pounding is coming from inside my head. Exactly how much did I drink last night? I try to shift, but it feels as if my body were weighed down. My eyes fly open again when I realize that I am not alone in this bed. No, I am naked and not alone in this bed.I glance down at the arm that this thrown across my waist and the first thing I see is the anchor and smaller images tattooed on the wrist. I close my eyes again as I try to remember what happened last night. Everything is pretty much a blur after you arrived at the party. Drinking. Talking and laughing with you. Drinking. Singing and dancing with Glenne. Drinking. You smirking and pulling me closer as the countdown began. The two of us stumbling up the stairs and giggling as you shushed me. Clothes flying everywhere.* Oh god! *I can feel myself start to panic. More images flash before my eyes. Kissing. Touching. You hovering over me. Me using your necklace to pull you closer. There is no mistaking what happened.* - Courtney

*Joel sighs and nods as he takes the beers from you. Walking back into the living room, he hands one of them to Benji. Chris and his other friends laugh even harder when you walk back into the room with your cleaning supplies and start scrubbing at the spot on the carpet.

Chris: Yeah, that’s where she’s the best: down on her knees. *He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, causing his other two friends to laugh and make rude remarks about you.*

*A while later, Joel walks out onto the balcony to grab a cigarette. He needed to clear his head from all that was going on inside. He lights up and inhales deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for a bit before exhaling. It’s only then that he notices he’s not alone. He spots you sitting in the corner with your knees drawn up. He sees you wipe a tear and feels something tighten in his chest. Walking over to you, he sits down on the chair opposite you and offers you a cigarette. You shake your head and wipe at your tears.* Why do you put up with Chris’ bullshit? You don’t deserve to be treated that way. *He’s always felt that you could do so much better than Chris, but Chris is his friend and he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Lately, though, he’s grown way too tired of seeing you cry over someone who isn’t worth your time or tears.* - Joel

*Harry wakes up with a start when he hears your frantic voice, sitting up quickly, completely unaware of what was going on* What happened?! What’s wrong?! *he looks at you worriedly before he realizes that you look naked... he looks down at himself and realizes that he doesn’t even have a shirt on and due to the breeze h can feel, he definitely doesn’t have any boxers or pj bottoms on either* Oh... Oh my god. *he looks around the room and sees clothes thrown all over the floor, looking back at you with wide eyes, not really sure what to say or do right now, not really sure how you were feeling about any of this either*

*I quickly attempt to wipe away my tears, shaking my head and shrugging* It’s only when he’s drunk. *I was going to lie and say I was crying abouts omething else but I know that Joel always witnessed the verbal abuse I went through so lying to him would’ve been pointless and probably annoying to think of what was making me sad* He’s just... drunk. He’s not like that when he’s sober. He’s sweet and kind. Get a beer into him and his friends around, it’s over for me. *I shrug again, trying to brush it all off. I turn towards him and hold my hand out, wanting a cigarette after all. It was a habit that Chris hated - even though he smoked a pack a day - but it was something I did when I was stressed. When Joel hands me a cigarette, I light it with his lighter and take a long drag, trying to calm down from crying*

#courtney & harry — everyday i stumble getting caught up in you #submission

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existentialkendall-blog · 7 years

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Sharpie Soulmates: Part 2

Pairing: Kickthestickz Wordcount: 2.4k Rating: Light swearing

Plot: Chris visits PJ at University. Based on a prompt that whatever you write on your skin appears on your soulmate. Find the first part here

A/N: Request a fic here, gimme feedback, don’t forget to read the first one. This wasn’t suppose to turn into a thing, but at the rate it’s going I might end up writing a third

After their first meeting, PJ learns that Chris wants to be an actor. PJ tells him that he wants to make short films. They're a perfect team, the artist and his muse. While PJ was in London for an interview, Chris was in the cafe gearing himself up for an audition.

The meeting in London was a success. Despite the sweaty palms and hair secured over tattooed forehead, he'd spoken clearly, enunciated his ideas, described his plans. Which led to an increase in funding for a project of his choice. Or more than one if he budgets and uses his old friend cardboard.

On the other hand, the audition had not been a success. They'd exchanged phone numbers, so luckily Chris didn't have to write all their negative opinions on PJ's skin.

Along the lines of 'too tall, too nervous, not attractive enough'. PJ had written on his skin for that one, that Chris could not be any hotter, he was breaking the laws of physics as it was. He almost felt like Chris for the cheesiness of that. Around it he'd drawn a large swirling design with a cartoon PJ shooting heart eyes his way at the top.

Chris had replied with a 'thank you', and a 'the auditions will be so much easier now that he can't show his thigh to them'. PJ smirked, 'maybe that's where you were going wrong', and grinned harder at the 'can't be it, I have impressive thighs', because at least Chris was being positive about something.

One night, while writing a second draft of his latest short film script, the word 'Friday?' materialises on his hand. The crudely drawn dick from yesterdays Chris doodles is peeking out from underneath his shirt sleeve and the writing makes a nice addition to the body art.

While PJ still gets daily pick up lines, Chris sometimes graduates from University level cheese to Shakespearean quotes. Which are not always relevant, and usually baffling to read.

He mentally checks his schedule. Friday he has class in the morning and then nothing past midday.

Earlier that morning he'd drawn a skeleton design over Chris's hand so he avoids there, and writes a yes across his wrist in attempted calligraphy.

A short list of times promptly appears, trailing down his arm. PJ writes over the best one, and lets the excitement build. On Friday he'll see his soulmate for the second time.

____

Morning classes suck. Especially when you've made plans as soon as the class ends. Normally PJ would consider himself an enthusiastic person when it came to work, considering it's creative and that's his whole personality. But the droning hours and early morning start made concentration unbearable.

So he reverted back to his hobby.

Doodling.

By the time lunch came he'd drawn a myriad of fantasy creatures on his arm, along with other things that he couldn't remember because he'd spaced out.

Daydreaming while drawing.

He escapes University and heads straight for the train station. With the time he's making, he makes it there with a couple minutes to spare. He's preoccupied with thoughts about getting actors for his next short, the amount of cardboard he'll need, and the fact that he has a whole weekend with Chris, so he doesn't register that the train is there until there are streams of people pouring out.

PJ bites his lip and taps his foot rhythmically until a floppy haired boy bounds out of the carriage wearing a soft grey coat.

"PEEJ!" He tackles PJ with a suffocating hug and squeezes until he starts protesting.

"What?! I missed you," And fuck if that doesn't cause a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. "Well, we have been talking constantly. So I guess I only missed your face."

"Thanks Chris. Glad to know you're here for the face," Pj says dryly, but he's in agreement with Chris. He'd forgotten how pretty the other boy is.

"Did you miss me, sugar tits?" Chris grins at PJ like he's come up with the cure for any and all diseases. PJ can't help the smile that appears right back at Chris's, overpowering his face until his whole being is radiating with joy, and a nervous excitement that thrums at his bones.

"How could I not?" PJ feels the smile shift so it's growing out the side of his mouth in a sardonic way, and Chris visibly reacts with shock. And pride.

The soulmate syndrome is weird.

"What have you got planned for us today," Chris asks, while shifting his bag around his shoulders and readjusting his coat so it rests on his shoulders.

"Film, pizza, bed?"

"Emphasis on the bed part," Chris nods, eyes narrowing with humour.

"Depends how well the pizza goes."

"You put out on the first date?" Chris assumes his natural position, arm slung around PJ's shoulder and mouth dangerously close to his skin. "I can't wait, planet boy."

PJ blushes at the nickname. Telling him about his channel was possibly a mistake. But then, Chris saw all his short films and animations in a way that felt like he was looking into his soul. And that was worth the teasing nickname. Plus, he'd started drawing wobbly planets and sporadic stars instead of just dicks.

In fact, at the time being, PJ only has a red inked Jupiter on his upper thigh.

Chris still manages to draw in the most obscure places.

"Peej?" PJ's heart warms at the nickname and the hesitance that taints it.

"Chris?"

"Did you find mine?”

PJ frowns, mind coming to a standstill. Chris is on YouTube? Did he tell him?

Chris reacts to the silence with a loud, "You don't know me? Me, the famous Crabstickz?" His arms open wide to the sky, the announcement of his username is in a Japanese game show host voice.

PJ laughs and shakes his head.

"Why would you want to be called crab sticks?”

"Why would you want to be called kick the PJ?"

"I have a foot fetish."

"A public foot fetish? Can anyone get involved, or just the fans? Is it some weird reverse Stockholm syndrome thing?" Chris makes himself laugh with the last question, and almost walks into a singular sparsely leafed tree. He dodges it narrowly and brushes PJ's arm.

"What about your fetish for seafood. Do you like watching them get made, or is it the watching men eat them that thrills you."

The corner of Chris's mouth turns down as he pretends to contemplate the choices.

"I'd have to say watching women eat them is the way to go. Women make good fish stick eaters."

PJ winces in disgust at his crudeness, and then the answer Chris gave hits him.

"So... You're bi?"

"You aren't?"

"I guess so," Not that he's kissed a boy before. Hadn't really thought about them as potential dating options, never really looked at one and wanted. Be that as it may, he's not going to tell everyone he's 'Chris-sexual', whatever the fuck that's suppose to mean.

"Wait. This means. You haven't been with a guy before, have you? Does that mean I get to pop your ass cherry?"

"You can fuck off if you think I'm bottoming first."

Chris giggles. His laugh is undefined, it's brimming with childish behaviour. Maybe that's where all the joy escaped to, because PJ is getting better at reading him and he's learning that the humour is a mechanism.

"You know about positions? You can't be that much of a virgin then."

"I've seen porn," Specifically to research how fucking Chris would work. And yeah, there's no way their first time is involving him getting it in the ass.

"Well fuck me sideways. You, PJ le kicky, has seen porn? That's a criminals commodity, you're a real rule breaker. I might have to report you to the police."

They're quickly approaching his building and it'll be a while before they can be alone again. There's introductions, re-introductions, talking, making dinner.

"Hey, since we're both youtubers we could become a power couple and take over the site!"

PJ rolls his eyes and pushes Chris's arm so he turns the corner and they're walking down the street to his halls. He palms the keys and takes the lead to unlock the front door.

"We're here!"

_____

Chris is sitting on the floor, legs crossed and fingers playing with a loose black thread on his jeans, when PJ exits the bathroom. His head flicks up when the door closes and he throws the pen next to him at PJ. It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.

"What have you done now?" PJ sighs.

"It's a game. You have to find the x to get your prize. You better start stripping." PJ looks down at him, face devoid of emotion. Chris's lopsided grin is focussing all it's attention on him.

"The pizza will get cold," He drops down onto his single bed and takes a slice, biting the perfect pointed end off. The taste of it is drowned out by the weight of Chris's back as he relaxes against his leg that's hanging off the bed.

After wolfing down half the plate full of food, Chris yanks his jumper off so he's left in a long white sleeved shirt and a grey t-shirt over that. At this angle PJ can stare at Chris without the other boy knowing, and he takes advantage of that.

What his eyes fixate on the most is his neck. He wants to kiss him there, feel his pulse under his tongue, bite softly. Make Chris a whimpering mess from playing with his neck alone.

"Thanks by the way."

"Huh?" PJ replies, snapping back into reality.

Chris pushes away from the bed to look at PJ. "Really?"

"What?"

"Well if you don't remember, I'm not gonna tell you."

Pizza forgotten, PJ looks at Chris with pure confusion. Chris smugly finishes his last slice.

"Tell me."

Chris shakes his head, "I can't. I'd have to show you."

"Show me then."

His hand goes to his white shirt sleeve and he pretends to sexily pull up the piece of clothing, and then stops.

"Nah."

"Chris!"

He pulls the sleeve back down and leans forward so he's on his knees. "Are you gonna eat that?" He asks, reaching for the food residing next to PJ.

PJ isn't finished with the conversation, so he grabs Chris's arm. It's as if he expected it, and he pulls away. PJ tackles him and pulls up the sleeve, pinning Chris down by straddling his waist. Chris is panting softly underneath him.

Drawings. What PJ would call ghosts, creatures, sea monsters. They cover Chris's pale skin. He hasn't seen his penmanship on Chris before. He didn't expect it to be so bold, so bright.

Once he's taken in the colourful drawings, he turns Chris's arm by pulling it up and over his head so it rests back against the floor.

Chris.

Chris with two love hearts, shaded with close lines of the same pen.

The real Chris, the one underneath him, laughs suddenly, and PJ shifts on top of him.

"I can't believe you don't remember doing that!"

"Shut up!" PJ scowls at the smirking boy.

With a twist of his smile, and a dark edge to his eye, Chris murmurs, "Make me."

PJ's eyes go to Chris's mouth.

He ignores the hesitation, the nerves, the caution.

Chris's lips are soft. They part under him with shock and PJ feels heady with the rush of dark heat and warmth. Tentatively he flicks his tongue into his mouth, caressing Chris's. He moans under him with soft mewling noises and his hand tugs on PJ's hair, but not to pull him away, to push him closer.

Chris tilts his head and the position changes, getting infinitely deeper. PJ didn't mean for it to go this far this quickly. Honestly he didn't have anything in mind when the kiss started.

But Chris is gripping his arm on the right side of too tight and PJ feels arousal growing and he's glad it happened like this.

"I underestimated you," Chris breathes when they part.

PJ licks his bottom lip to reclaim the taste of Chris, conscious of Chris's eyes tracking the movement.

Chris lurches forward to kiss PJ again, but his nose collides with PJ's and they're wincing. He collapses back on the floor, hands automatically covering his face.

"Chris?" PJ leans over him, hands in fists on either side of his face.

Underneath his hands, he shakes his head once, and then removes them. His whole face is scarlet with a beautiful blush.

"You dork."

"Hey! That's my line."

PJ smiles in fondness. The next thing Chris says makes the smile fall instantly.

"Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

Chris realises what he said and laughs, "No, I mean. From earlier. Take it off, you'll see."

"If I recall correctly, from earlier, you have to go first."

Chris mutters "Semantics," Under his breath before stripping. Then he's lying on the floor, arms behind his head in a mock comfy reclining position, staring up at PJ.

Under all the layers of clothing Chris is still as pale and lanky as PJ anticipated. All bones and hot skin, smooth curves and a cocky smirk.

It's funny that he thought kissing Chris for the first time would be the hard part. Like a plaster. Rip it off, take the shirt off.

Still breathing, world still turning.

Chris is staring at his chest in awe. God, he's pretty. His hazel eyes tear themselves away from his chest to his face. Look.

In the peripheral haze he can only see red. Arches of red and curling waves. "Hang on," PJ stands and goes to the bathroom mirror.

Love hearts. Small ones framing a singular large heart, framing the skin over his real heart. And in it, drawn in the same way as the rest of his chest, is a five letter word.

"CHRIS!"

"Babe?" Chris appears in the doorway, arms crossed at his chest as he leans against the doorframe.

"What the fuck?"

"You already have my name tattooed across your soul. Why not make it clear on your heart?"

PJ turns back to his reflection. How does he always end up here?

Chris moves behind him, hands sliding around his waist and pulling him back against Chris's chest.

"We should make a video. Gay chicken."

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