prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[CHAPTER MASTERPOST]

HEY I’m surprised I manage to get this up tbh England has literally been burning these past few days and it’s been so HOT and difficult to write but SOMEHOW I MANAGED IT GO ME

omg someone outside is having a really loud argument over the phone it’s so DISTRACTING can they keep it down for 4 seconds whilst I SIN please

anyway I hope this is ok!! sorry this chapter’s a lil shorter than usual I promise there’s gonna be more to the story than the Pure unadulterated sin that keeps happening hahah but yeah there’s still a lot I have planned for this fic!! This is literally so fun to write thank you all so so much for ur constant support and messages with this fic it honestly means the world ily all

aaaaaanyway on with the horny rich kids

warnings: smuttttttty smut (get ur bibles ready kids), alcohol, that’s p much it i think

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Eighteen

“Really?”

Phil can hear his heartbeat in his ears, drumming into his head with dull thuds. His breath catches in his throat like a hook.

Dan glances up at him, all dark eyes and messy hair. “Yeah. Really.”

His fingers slide through Phil’s fringe, combing it back off of his forehead and Phil feels goose bumps sprinkle his skin.

“I mean-…” Phil bites back a gasp. “Are you-… like, are you sure?”

“Sure about what?” Dan mumbles, shuffling up closer and sliding his thigh up between Phil’s legs. “About leaving the talking ‘till tomorrow, or about the fact that I’m still somehow ridiculously turned on thanks to your stupid dancing?” he smirks, watching as Phil gulps, trying to mask his sharp intake of breath at the sudden pressure. “Because- well, it’s yes to both.”

“Oh my god,” Phil shudders out a breath, trying not to think about how fucking sexy Dan’s voice is with that raspy scratch whenever he’s sleepy or horny or trying to be quiet. Or, in this case, all three. “Same. I mean- me too. I just don’t wanna, you know, rush into anything.”

“Phil,” Dan smirks. “We’ve been holding ourselves back from each other for weeks. I don’t particularly call that ‘rushing’ anything.”

“True,” Phil grins, kissing Dan with soft little pecks. “I mean- I’m up for- well, anything. I just don’t wanna do anything you don’t, y’know?”

“I appreciate that,” Dan nods.

They kiss again, slower this time, before Phil breaks it off to say something.

“So. How far exactly are we gonna take this?”

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prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[CHAPTER MASTERPOST]

Heyyyyyyyy I’ve been having literally The Worst writer’s block this week bc I felt as if last week’s chapter kinda drove me into a brick wall that I didn’t know how to write myself out of so <///3 I hope this is okay, it’s a lil more lighthearted compared to the last few chapters but enjoy that while it lasts bc shit’s about to Seriously Go Down my dudes ;PPP

Here is the song phil Does The Thing to ;))) [x]

warnings: alcohol, kiiinda smut but not really, inappropriate games of truth or dare why the fuck am I like this

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Seventeen

Phil can’t speak. There’s a flood of thoughts racing through his brain at about three hundred miles per hour but he can’t seem to open his mouth and say anything. The silence is too much and he just can’t fucking speak.

Dan misinterprets the silence. He draws in a shaky breath after a couple of minutes and hauls himself off of the bench, out of Phil’s arms.

“I’ve said too much. I-“

“No, wait-“ Phil reaches out to grab for his wrist, but Dan flinches, tensing up like stone.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Phil mumbles, suddenly feeling terrible. Weeks of spending time with Dan had made it apparent enough how sensitive the other boy still is to sudden moves. “I’m really sorry, I-“

“It’s-…” Dan swallows, clutching onto the bench. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped something as heavy as that on you. I-“

“No, it’s okay,” Phil gulps. “Really. It’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all.”

Dan sits back down on the bench, quietly apprehensive. “A shock?”

“I-… but-… okay,” he gulps. “Well- I mean. It’s great. I guess,” his throat feels like sandpaper and he kind of wants a cigarette. “For you, anyway.”

Dan freezes. “What?”

“I mean,” Phil tries again, desperately trying to ignore the swirl of something hot churning in his stomach right now. “Yeah. It’s cool. It’s cool that you’ve, you know, found someone like-“ he knows his words are slipping out too fast and he needs to fucking shut up for a minute but he can’t stop himself. If he doesn’t talk, the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears will become all too apparent and he’ll probably start crying instead. “So um. Yeah. Who-… um. Who-… who- with?” he finally stutters. “If that’s not an invasive question. Which it probably is, but-“

Dan frowns into the darkness. Phil throws him a quick glance.

“Seriously?” Dan’s voice is beginning to crack a little, and Phil can’t understand why.

“What?”

Dan shakes his head, shutting his eyes. Phil tries to reach for his hand, but Dan pulls his hand out of his grasp.

“Dan?” Phil feels a little stab in his heart.

Keep reading

prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).

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[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[CHAPTER MASTERPOST]

I am currently one of eleven people staying in this tiny lil house and ive finally managed to steal an empty room to myself in order to write this and I feel so UNSOCIABLE but theres a dog here next to me so it’s all good  

Shoutout to this chapter for being the first one in which things actually begin to HAPPEN???? I know I say this at the beginning of literally every chapter so far but things really are gonna pick up from here I swear and by that I mean dans backstory (or at least some of it) is Literally Going To Be In The Very Next Chapter

Anyway I got far too carried away with this. im kinda sorry but kinda not

warnings: smut (masturbation AGAIN WHAT THE UFCK WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING) alcohol, self harm (v brief) ehhh I think that’s about it

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Fourteen 

­There’s something about Dan that calms Phil down.

Maybe it’s weird, a little illogical, that someone with a personality as anxious and as timid as a wild mouse can somehow be seen as soothing, but that’s how it is.

“Hi,” Phil had sighed upon hearing the door open. He didn’t look over, didn’t move his eyes from the ceiling. Seconds later, a brown head of hair slides into his peripheral vision and he feels part of the mattress sink a little. He shuffles into an upright position in order to make more room for the other boy, crossing his legs and slouching his back a little.

“What happened?” Dan had whispered in a voice like cotton wool.

“Freddie happened,” Phil had told him. “We had an argument.”

Dan sighed, caramel eyes glittering with sympathy. “Talk.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me about it. You’ll feel better with it out of your system.”

So Phil did. And he found once he started, he can’t really stop and it’s only about ten minutes later he finally pauses, the room feeling thick with silence without the sound of his own voice filling it. His blow-by-blow recount from when they got to the vending machine to when he left it, charging through the corridors with an angry heart, was probably a little too detailed. He probably could’ve wrapped up the entire story in about three sentences instead of three-hundred.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “I’ve bored you, haven’t I?”

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prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).

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[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[CHAPTER MASTERPOST]

As it goes, right now it’s literally Thursday night it’s like 2am and I only just realised I haven’t written any of this yet. Who’s proud of me????

I cant believe the amount of pokemon go references in this chapter I s2g I haven’t even got the fucking app myself WHY am I like this

also things will probably get progressively emo from here onwards. The rise of Emo Dan has begun

warnings: mention of anxiety/panic attacks (kinda), nightmares, not rllllly smut but just kinda ??? sexual tension??? Idk this was a mess lol 

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Twelve

Since he’d been warned about the school’s stupidly high security, Dan has been taking extra precautions when it comes to his midnight walks. Phil, on the night of being caught in the undercroft, had given him a specific list of places to avoid, paths that should only be crossed with the lightest tiptoes (such as the one behind the Senior Management boarding house) and CCTV blind spots like the back of the Sports Hall, which is where Dan is sat now.

It’s not like he does anything outrageous enough to have a reason to be hiding from the cameras lurking around the school. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do drugs, rarely drinks and keeps well away from the cornered-off areas of the school where access is forbidden and heavy punishments are at stake. It’s just- well, it’s just what he’s always done, really. There’s nothing quite like leaving the hell of a full working day with the sunset and escaping into the night for a while.

Because apparently, a few hours under the stars, sitting on the side of the path or a bench (maybe even the roof of somewhere if he can get to it), huddled up in his dressing gown shaking like a leaf in the cold is apparently his idea of leisure.

But it’s peaceful. The stress of the day’s work, the anxiety and the smashed plates and aggressive colleagues and customers who don’t leave tips, all seem to melt away as soon as he tilts his head up and sees the stars. He’ll try his best to ignore the foggy mess of worries and dark thoughts and creeping anxiety and instead try to focus on the glittering pinpoint lights above him and wonder what makes the universe exist.

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a/n: OK well i WAS gonna write a pastel/pastel AU but whilst I was scrolling down my prompts I found this and I couldn’t pass it up hahahahah I have no idea what the fuck this is im so tired it is literally 4am right now. 4AM what am I DOING (this is kind of a joke fic take everything that happens in here with a pinch of salt).

This might possibly be the best and worst thing I’ve ever written. We’ll see.

summary: Dan gets dragged into Victoria’s Secret in search of a birthday present for his best friend and gets slightly more than he bargained for (or, alternatively, the one where dan and phil fuck in the changing rooms). (based on this prompt [x])

warnings: smut (public sex), swearing, humour (is that even a warning?), strangers-to-lovers-pretty-damn-fast

words: 4,000

Dan presses a black bra up against his chest along with the corset. “I bet I would work these, y’know. What do you think?” he whirls back around. The space beside him is empty.

He frowns. “Chris?”

He spins around in search for the other boy – where the fuck did he go? He glances over his shoulder to the other side of him where his eyes lock with a very unfamiliar face and oh no. Shit.

“Well. I don’t know…” the stranger says, each syllable smooth and deep. He takes a couple of steps closer to Dan and the scent of his aftershave follows him until it reaches Dan, spicy coolness radiating off of his neck. He smirks a little, the grin tugging on one corner of his mouth and tweaking his expression into a crooked smile.

“Oh- my god,” Dan stutters when he finally remembers to speak, shock rooting him to the spot. “I’m- fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else and-“

“…you’d have to try them on,” he finishes.

Keep reading

prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).-

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[CHAPTER MASTERPOST]

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warnings: smut (masturbation lmao), swearing, alcohol stuff and (v v brief) mentions of drugs 

i cant believe this got as smutty as it did brb gonna douse myself in holy water

the storyline’s like……. finally beginning to move on now 

enjoy!!

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Eleven

Days go by. Phil begins to see less and less of Liam, Freddie and Violet, spinning more and more excuses about ‘English coursework’ and ‘I promised Noah I’d go see his drama thing tonight’ and ‘oh fuck okay listen I’d love to but Ed’s only given me until tomorrow to finish this essay and you know what he’s like about overdue stuff.”

Okay, the drama thing was actually true. They’re putting on some performance of Mary Poppins, and while Phil doesn’t really think that’s the most imaginative or interesting play idea they could have come up with, seeing Noah prance around in a chimney sweep costume covered in fake soot certainly is entertaining. He’s sure those pictures he’d managed to take of him during the ‘Chim-Chim-Cher-ee’ dance are going to look great on his Snapchat story tonight.

“Did you like it?” Noah had asked him after the production when Phil had hung around backstage, watching the audience pouring out of the drama studio, leaving twenty six exhausted A-Level drama students and rows and rows of empty chairs behind them.

“Pretty impressive,” Phil nods. “Though last time I watched the Walt Disney version, I’m fairly certain there was no rap battle halfway through,” he pauses, “or drug jokes during the ‘Spoonful-of-sugar’ song.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “That’s the point of it. It’s- like, the modern adaptation of children’s Disney films. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, sure,” Phil shrugs, before hesitating. “Although if you’re going down that route, I dread to think what you guys would make of Alice in Wonderland.”

“That’s certainly an idea.” Noah chuckles, wiping a smudge of soot off of his cheek.  “Maybe you could play the Cheshire Cat. And Liam could play that white rabbit with poor time management. Or you could both be Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

Phil rather thinks Liam’s better suited to a character like the evil walrus instead of the white rabbit, but he doesn’t mention that.

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a/n: I call this one ‘shelley tries to write a normal average coffee shop AU but still AGAIN manages to turn the entire thing into some huge fucking space-related metaphor’. Oops

(real talk I worked my ass off on this I swear ok it sounds so dumb but I genuinely think this might be the hardest I’ve ever worked on a fic before hahah ahhahahaha AHah im really tired)

also there’s no ‘amethyst coffee house’ actually on southbank it’s a fictional place

special thanks to my wonderful beta aqua who was such a big help with this fic tysm my Queen <33

summary: Phil, the clumsy Barista working an unstable job in a café along the Thames, always carries around too much spare change and really should stop smoking on his lunch breaks. Dan is a struggling street musician making his fortune in pennies on the south bank of London, another stranger in the city, who deserves so much more than the copper thrown at him by passers-by every day. But London is big, loud and really fucking overwhelming at the best of times, and sometimes, city life doesn’t always go to plan. And that’s okay.

warnings: smut, swearing, very pretentious space metaphors, alcohol, smoking and i think thats about it

words: 19.6k (go get a drink or a snack or smth bc it’s a long one)

(disclaimer: I have no intention of romanticising/condoning smoking. A lot of this fic is about giving it up.)

READ ON AO3

“Maybe the best thing about London, or any city in general, is how it’s a bit like the universe.

“The city harbours millions and millions of individual lives, seeing trillions of births and deaths of humans, just like the countless life cycles of stars; exploding either to create beautiful supernovas or to burn out without a spark, and that’s something Phil often thinks about. If he were to die tomorrow, the city would keep on breathing. The buildings would keep twinkling into the night. Commuters would still sit in their offices. The sun will keep on rising, and the stars, wherever they are up there, would keep on shining.

Because, most of all, similar to the universe, the city waits for no-one. The city, like the universe, doesn’t give a shit about what happens to you while you’re there, so it’s up to you to find your place in the city, not for the city to find a place for you.”

-

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“Success doesn’t come on a silver platter. It gets served in mud. You decide whether you’re going to get dirty to clean it” 

-

Keep reading

phanlight:

I wanted to write a lil something now just for the time being whilst I try to finish my other 20k fic which is proving to be a Monster to complete lol so look forward to that soon at some point!!

Happy (belated) birthday Dan. Hope you didn’t get too hungover today.

summary: the tour is ending, and after flitting from coast-to-coast, city-to-city and living in a bus for a month, dan and phil visit vegas again. copious amounts of alcohol later, dan realises he’s happy. and kind-of still in love. (loosely based on vegas by all time low [x])

warnings: emo 2012/2016 comparisons, smut (surprise surprise) swearing, getting drunk, I guess pretty much everything else you’d expect in a vegas fic lol

words: 5.6k

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“But this time around, four years later, it’s like someone has turned the saturation of the city up. Turned up the contrast, the definition, the volume, the sharpness, brightness and every single other enhancement, and when Dan looks out into the view glittering in front of them, it feels like he’s wearing glasses for the first time. Everything just looks so much more beautiful through happier eyes.

Phil turns to Dan, and his eyes flit down to his lips for a split second. On a pocket-sized screen, four zeros line up.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, holding up his shot glass.”

-

i.

Stepping into Las Vegas is like stepping straight into a movie.

It’s like stepping out of the monochrome clockwork routine of daily life and into a whirlwind of colours and buzzing machines; a world where rules and inhibitions are dropped like coins into a slot, and money is spilt like alcohol. For a place that’s famous for its drunken wedding vows and tattoos in unspeakable places, it’s really quite incredible that somewhere so outrageous actually exists in the world. It just sounds so fictional.

They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but since they arrived Dan hasn’t seen a single club, casino or shop that isn’t twenty-four hour. Flashes of colour and lights blink through every minute of every day, illuminating the land in neon excitement and spontaneity, and to be honest, even after travelling through state-after-state, flitting from town-to-town, Dan hasn’t seen a city quite this colourful.

It hasn’t changed a bit since they last came. The minute Dan’s foot had touched Vegas ground, he’d felt twenty-one again. It’s almost as if time stops here, like the past four years haven’t happened at all and the reason they’re even here isn’t because they’re reaching the end of their international tour, but instead simply because two guys with longer fringes with a following of way less than a million between them wanted a holiday.

Keep reading

I wanted to write a lil something now just for the time being whilst I try to finish my other 20k fic which is proving to be a Monster to complete lol so look forward to that soon at some point!!

Happy (belated) birthday Dan. Hope you didn’t get too hungover today.

summary: the tour is ending, and after flitting from coast-to-coast, city-to-city and living in a bus for a month, dan and phil visit vegas again. copious amounts of alcohol later, dan realises he’s happy. and kind-of still in love. (loosely based on vegas by all time low [x])

warnings: emo 2012/2016 comparisons, smut (surprise surprise) swearing, getting drunk, I guess pretty much everything else you’d expect in a vegas fic lol

words: 5.6k

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“But this time around, four years later, it’s like someone has turned the saturation of the city up. Turned up the contrast, the definition, the volume, the sharpness, brightness and every single other enhancement, and when Dan looks out into the view glittering in front of them, it feels like he’s wearing glasses for the first time. Everything just looks so much more beautiful through happier eyes.

Phil turns to Dan, and his eyes flit down to his lips for a split second. On a pocket-sized screen, four zeros line up.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, holding up his shot glass.”

Keep reading

summary: “I left phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are” AU

words: 12.7k

warnings: smut, mentions of smoking, alcohol/being drunk, lack of imagination as far as fic titles are concerned

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Can you believe this was meant to be 3k?? I honeslty don’t know what happened there. all I know is that I have five exams in less than three weeks that I should be revising for and instead did this. yikes I hope this was worth it. (also pray4me that I don’t fail everything) x

Also on the topic of exams the actual reason I wrote this now was bc I’m kinda not gonna be writing for a while because of Lovely responsibilities and school stuff and revision so I’m gonna leave yall with this before I’m off Working and doing fun stuff that adults do.

I hope this is ok!!

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Dan’s halfway through skipping History when he does it.

He doesn’t know why he did it – he really doesn’t, he was just kind of bored one afternoon and happened to be carrying a Sharpie and hey, it’d just be a laugh, right? In a school like this, what’s the worst that could come out of leaving his phone number on a cubicle wall?

His pen squeaks across the pale blue paint, already tainted with curse words and penis drawings and tipp-ex and “Call _____ for a good time ;)”. He supposes the caretakers have given up with trying to cover up the graffiti – there are still thin layers of paint and chipped plaster coating every inch of the stall walls, at least showing attempted coverage, but people had just written over them, scribbles of song lyrics and “never got caught” tattooing every inch of the previously blank walls. No amount of assemblies or threats of “whoever did this-“, inserts picture of something someone had written about the Maths teacher on the hall projector, “is seriously going to pay” from the head teacher had ever stopped anyone, so, really, what does Dan have to lose? Sure, they could trace the phone number, but that doesn’t prove anything – he could just as easily throw on the ‘innocent’ act and say it was his friend.

07843983276, he writes. He doesn’t sign it off with any comment, nor kisses, not even a smiley face let alone a winking one. He just leaves it there, in a kind-of conspicuous place just above eye-level on the right hand side of the door, eleven digits amidst many others.

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summary: teenage!phan are at a sleepover and begin to have a bit of fun with the sex dices they’d found earlier that evening. 

warnings: smut (kinda)

words: 5.3k

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I was gonna write more of illaks but apparently a weird 1am idea took priority and now . idk what this is laugHs oops

Im so tired I cant even think straight im sorry if the majority of this makes 0 sense I need 2 have a nap

This is probably the closest yall will ever get to me attempting smut lol appreciate it while u can x x

(if u don’t know what a ‘sex dice’ is click here)

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Phil’s always felt weirdly privileged to share Dan’s bed whenever he sleeps over.

It’s not like it’s anything he’s a stranger to – quite the opposite really, but out of everyone, Phil’s the only one Dan will actually let in his bed on account of the fact he can actually have a decent night’s sleep without Phil taking all the duvet or accidentally rolling over and pushing him off the bed. That’s Kyle’s trick – explaining why he’s down there whilst his marginally less irritating best friend is up here under his duvet, sharing his mattress. It’s nice sleeping with the knowledge he won’t wake up either freezing cold or on the floor.

Phil’s used to them being the last ones awake – having been friends with a bunch of total fucking lightweights for the best part of three years, it’s become the norm for the rest of them to be down there, asleep. They’re wrapped up in empty sleeping bags and spare duvets whilst the only two who can actually handle their drink are lying side-by-side, a cut above the sea of empty bottles and shot glasses littering Dan’s floor. They’d passed out about half an hour ago, leaving the two slightly tipsy teenagers still giggling over what had been a contribution to the night’s entertainment along with the heated games of ‘never have I ever’ and one too many Malibu shots.

“Does this not feel weird to you?” Dan’s eyebrow quirks in Phil’s direction as he holds the two small wooden cubes in his hand. “I feel-… it feels- I don’t know- gross, kind-of,” he huffs out a chuckle.

“Why would-…” he squints in the darkness, “-… lick-… elbow-… feel weird to me?” he replies, a threat of sarcasm in his tone.

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“my friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me” au

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It’s not that Dan isn’t a party person. He likes parties. He likes the whole socialising, drinking, I-don’t-know-who-the-hell-you-are-and-why-we’re-sitting-on-the-trampoline-in-the-back-yard-talking-about-dinosaurs-but-I’ll-roll-with-it vibe to it (okay, maybe the latter was only one time), and what’s the harm in getting a little drunk every now and then?

But the problem with Joe, is that he has more friends than Dan can keep up with. He knows too many people Dan doesn’t, and he goes to way too many parties.

Which, Dan supposes, isn’t really a problem in itself, but it’s where he comes into it that is – being the loyal roommate/best friend he is, Joe seems to have adopted him as his party mascot. His trusty ‘plus-one’, for want of a better term.

“Come on, Dan,” Joe throws him a red and black plaid shirt, dismissing one (of many) of Dan’s excuses of ‘but I have nothing to wear’. “I’ve grown out of that, so it’ll fit you just fine. You suit red.”

Dan glares at him, but walks over to the mirror and holds the shirt up to his face. It does suit him, kind-of, and he supposes he could probably get a couple more wears out of his jeans before he has to wash them.

“We’re like teenage girls, you and me,” Joe smirks, watching Dan assess his reflection.

Dan smirks, but tugs his pyjama t-shirt off and grabs the red plaid thing. He’ll never win.

“You owe me big time,” he mumbles, buttoning it up.

“Come on, it’ll be fine. This is Andrew – he knows how to throw a good party.”

“Ah, yes – ‘Andrew’. Another strikingly familiar name.’” Dan mutters dryly, grabbing his straighteners.

Joe tuts. “You’ll love him.”

Dan wonders how many times he’s heard that one before.

-

Keep reading

prompt: Dan and Phil are both sons of rich families and are sent to ballroom dancing lessons. Because there is a shortage of girls, Dan and Phil end up as partners. Phil really doesn’t want to be there and Dan doesn’t either, but is so frustrated by the fact Phil doesn’t want to dance with him he is determined to get him to.

a/n: i catn believe how LONG thsi is  fukc my LIFE also to all of u who wanted smut in this chapter i promise i was going to include i but i literally   if i did it would’ve spilt over into 7k territory and that’s like the equivalent to 3 short chapters so i promise it’ll be sooN  when it doesn’t happen right at the end  of a chapter smh i hope this will compensate also i kinda wanna begin to wrap up the storyline and tie loose ends togetehr otherwise this fic is literally gonna carry on for 53 more years so this is the beginning of the kiiind of end idk we’ll see enjoy

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

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Twenty-Three

It kind of becomes a regular thing after that.

Phil would come over nearly as often as Ryan used to. They’d spend the evenings together doing, well, anything. Sometimes, Dan would write essays and Phil would lie beside him, resting his head on Dan’s shoulder and apart from the odd comment about how much of a twat Jane Eyre was or a snide remark about his history homework from Dan who would ‘rather nail my fucking head to the wall than write another sentence about the Russian Revolution honestly Phil you know sometimes I bet the period of time from 1881 ‘till 1924 only existed to piss me off’, they’d both mutually enjoy the peaceful quietness with no sound other than the gentle tapping of Dan’s laptop keyboard. Sometimes Phil would bring his textbooks and Dan would give him a spare laptop, and they’d study together. Phil takes History, like Dan, but Geography, Maths and English Language as opposed to Literature, so Jane Eyre is a battle Dan realises he’ll have to fight alone. Sometimes they’d mindlessly browse Tumblr, giggling every so often and showing the other whatever it was that had made them laugh (on Dan’s front, nearly always a cat video of some description).

Other times, especially in the evenings, Dan would drag his duvet into the lounge and they’d curl up together on the sofa, sharing popcorn and chuckling at bad movies. Sometimes they’d kiss a lot, sometimes not as much, and sometimes (always) they’d cuddle, nuzzling into the other and playing with eachother’s soft hair in the dim light Dan’s lamp gives off. Sometimes, they’d go a little further, and a messy bedroom would be the least of Dan’s concerns once he has Phil pressed up against his door (locked, this time).

Any spare time they both had, they’d rather spend together than alone even if it did mean the whole time they would be staring at a laptop screen or an open book.

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prompt: Dan and Phil are both sons of rich families and are sent to ballroom dancing lessons. Because there is a shortage of girls, Dan and Phil end up as partners. Phil really doesn’t want to be there and Dan doesn’t either, but is so frustrated by the fact Phil doesn’t want to dance with him he is determined to get him to.

a/n: LISTEN I HAVE A FUCKIN REAL EXAM TOMORROW AND HERE I AM WRITING GAY SMUT I AM HONEST TRASH WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING i’m so sorry aobut this it spiralled outta control i hope it okay ogm i ohpe i dont fail tomorrow OOPS

once again welcome to the sequel of the time i tried to write smut and chickened out so this isnt actual sex or anything but it’s just about everything else

((also ik this is on hiatus but that just means its off schedule so while this isn’t gonna be every wednesday or at least until my exams are over chapters will still occasionally pop up here and there))

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Twenty

They’ve been here just over a week, and already Dan and Phil have gathered a little collection of all their favourite places in Vienna, ranging from the wide, busy roads of the city centre, little winding alleyways with old, overhanging wooden door signs labelling obscure shops selling pipe tobacco and expensive jewellery (and more banana chocolate, much to Phil’s delight and Dan’s disgust), to the places a little away from the decorative urban surroundings; the green stretches of park with small wooden benches lining grey paths and black iron lamp posts glowing up the oncoming dusk of the evening have been personal favourites of theirs. Dan likes the park; he likes talking to Phil and watching the evening breeze comb through the branches of the trees as their hands shyly hover against each-other, both of them trying to nudge them into a gentle clasp.

They discover somewhere new every day; somewhere always a little better, a little newer and more exciting than the last.

But there’s a clear favourite between them. Somewhere no amount of parks, trees and pretty architecture could match up to.

The bridge.

“But what if-“

“For the last time, Phil, you couldn’t send a squirrel into space.” Dan shuts his eyes, having heard one too many of Phil’s astrophysical animal theories.

“Not even if it was wearing a little spacesuit?” Phil pouts, his eyes glittering with thought in the glow of the sunset which casts everything facing the west with a gentle, orange hue.

“After forcing a temperamental rodent into a suit I’d be surprised if you had any fingers left,” Dan looks at him. “their teeth are sharp as fuck.”

Phil shrugs. “Well I tell you to get your ballroom suit on and my fingers are still in tact.” His voice is outlined with playfulness as he holds his hand up, slowly waving his fingers.

Dan’s mouth hangs open for a couple of seconds. “Bastard.” He mutters, trying to hide the oncoming grin under his surrounding hair.

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this was meant to be inspiredby that scene from dan’s video in which him and a classmate have a run-in ending in ‘do you wanna make out?’ although it took a very different unexpected turn oops

basically dan’s this badass kid and phil tries to make him moan

smutty elements but not sex cause i chickened out again

words: 3.9k

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He doesn’t know why out of all the social network-based apps his phone has to offer, he’s gone with Instagram as a passive distraction.

He’s sure he’d rather scroll through the cyber tsunami of eggs and spam accounts he keeps meaning to unfollow than pictures of people’s selfies from parties slipping their sober memory and dinner filtered heavily through unflattering brown/orange-hinted colours; what some would class as 'vintage’ or 'trendy’.

Phil prefers the term 'totally fucking pretentious’.

He doesn’t know what’s stopping him from simply clicking off the app and returning to the world of drivel squished into 140 characters or less, either; he reckons there’s something about Instagram and secretly following all the people from school he hates that brings him a sense of pleasure (or humour, rather) out of smirking at the sight of their photography and modelling attempts, with the genuine belief that 130 likes and 'this is hot stuff chickkk’ next to a flame emoji is one step away from stardom.

He’s using up his 4G, too; it was only last month he’d had to deal with the dreaded text from EE informing him on the £40 extra that had been added to his bill which he probably had this exact mindless distraction to blame; and he still has the rest of it yet to pay off.

He hitches his bag strap further up his shoulder, clicking his phone locked before the £40 expands to another horrendous price he’ll have to sacrifice his wages from his weekend job to; and he can safely agree a 4AM – 10AM shift certainly isn’t worth a few extra minutes laughing (or rather giving hidden smirks) at still images of the lives of the people he has the most dislike for; which is pretty illogical considering they aren’t even lives he particularly cares about.

He glances up from the corridor floor for the first time; actually taking in his surroundings in the effort of trying not to bump into anyone like last week; and he shudders at the embarrassment of revisiting the memory of colliding with the likings of Dan Howell, resulting in him hitting the floor along with the clatter of nearly the entire contents of his unzipped bag while a ripple of cruel laughter consumes the population of the corridor, serenading his thoughts of considering how he’d rather soar straight out of the second floor window than stand another moment in the painful humiliation.

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