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moonandsunwoo · 3 years

Text

Eric Sohn as your boyfriend

➛ eric sohn x reader (I dont think I used any pronouns but feel free to comment if I missed it!) fluff

➛ listen to: let me in (20 Cube) by ENHYPEN

➛ warnings: some mild swearing, there is suggestive content under the second cut but not fullblown nsfw

❥...!𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭:

Eric quite literally fell for you

and it was a painful fall at that, your freshly bought succulent adding some extra weight and definition to the whole tragedy

also because the dirt spilled everywhere and your poor Echeveria plant got yeeted right under a moving bus - because of course it would

and Eric just panicked

Like if he could have moved from beneath you, he would have definitely considered just going for it because oh my god the embarrassment

And then he looked up and you had about the prettiest face Eric could even imagine

So that made it ten million times worse

Luckily Sangyeon didn't raise no bitch

Luckily, Sangyeon also saw what happened from inside of the building, alongside Hyunjae and Jacob who had sent the poor boy running in the first place

Alright, technically Eric sent himself almost tripping out of the facility himself, because he forgot about the existence of bus times

Therefore he had to sprint to catch the bus

Well he didn't, funny enough, your poor succulent however did

-.-

it resulted in Jacob sweet-talking you from your initial shock into a state of almost comfort and Eric wishing he could have that kind of effect on people

But noooo he just had to run them over

He went and did pick the succulent up tho

or more like, tried to scrape the mashed up remains from off the pavement until you told him that it was no use anyways

That succulent was mush and so were Erics hopes of catching that last bus to get to class on time

So he offers you to go buy a new plant with him (after class though, because Sangyeon already gave him a warning death glare)

And whilst he wasn't as smooth as he had wished he was, you happily agreed

because damn he was cute alright

You guys did meet up after his class ended and you had a blast to say the least

and Eric came home with a cactus himself and a huge massive crush on you

Tries not to flex that he got your number and fails

Can't stop talking about you for the rest of the week because wow you guys just clicked so well and and and

Sunwoo would obviously never not call this a date btw and Eric would blush every time.

❥..!𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

Took him some time tbh

Simply because even though it was obvious, he still couldn't believe that someone like you fell for him

You guys went on so so many dates shopping sprees, small trips ect. and checked out almost every cafe that was near (for scientific purposes ofc. to see where the best coffee would get served. wink wonk)

to the point where he even took you to meet the rest of the boyz

And no one really believed that you guys were just friends

because you weren't

Well luckily he got over himself one day

and confess he did, just maybe he was so rushed and mumbly with it, and probably switching between every language he knew, that he had to do it twice

At least he made you feel special lmao

When you confessed your feelings to him too, he just kinda sat there for a second

Like 'wow it's that easy??'

He felt like he skipped an important step in an instruction book

Like a math problem that was too easy to be that simple

Would have his moment of megalomania right after because you ✨liked ✨him✨ back✨

We all know how competitive he can get, the good man

So prepare yourself for battling out the most basic things

will make everything a competition if he can

will also lose, like more than fifty percent of the time but its okay

just kiss him afterwards or something

That will send him into a hormonal overdrive instantly

Not that he would admit it tho hahah

Heeee??? flustered because you did as much kiss him???? ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶦᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ

Please wear his clothes

Can be anything, really; his shirt, sweater, hoodie, his huge jackets or a pair of sweats

Do it and he will melt and only grin dopey for the rest of the night

The type of boyfriend to wake you up at 3AM because he swears he heard someone knock against the window no kidding

on the third floor

he had a nightmare, just hold him

Can't cook, will however try to impress you with his cooking skills none the less

Hey at least he cleans up afterwards *ahem* sunwoo *ahem*

if you cant already do it, he'd probably love trying to go skating with you

would one hundred percent be the most patient you had ever seen him and so proud after every accomplishment no matter how tiny

Will ramble about his day to you

Will get all loud and boast-y if you decide to visit him at the studio

"HEY BABE LOOK I CAN DO TWELVE FLIPS BLINDFOLDED-"

"Eric no."

Eager kisser, I just want to say it again

Will buy you a succulent every anniversary. Guaranteed.

Very unlike how he is when your like alone and sinning (lol sry)

Very gentle with you, asks like seven thousand times if its okay and if you're comfortable

kinda scared that he could do something wrong, kinda insecure about himself

Maybe you’re even his first time and he's just so unsure oh dear

Like what if you dont like it oh my god what if he does something WRONG

knocks out almost immediately after sex, after giving his best to take care of you

Very much into cuddling afterwards, but don't ever bring it up he will yeet

I know many people might disagree with that but I will gladly die on that hill alright

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🪴 ꒱

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diamondcamefromhell · 4 years

Text

Dance

Summary: this was a request by @rosasteri [who may as well be dubbed my creative muse bc the request i get from them make me super inspired ]“ hi, can I request Jaskier x reader? jask, geralt and reader stay in tavern. jaskier plays his music, but other bard comes and jaskier decides to take a rest. people start to dance so jaskier offers to reader his hand and trying to convince her to dance. but reader doesn't know how to dance so Jask teaches her “

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,019

A/N: i really dont have anything to say, lmao, for some reason im at a loss for words today - spent most of it writing original story, and now have an this dying rge to read percy jackson, so guess i know what i will do tonight, lol, either way

any and all feedback is appreciated and can be left anonymously on my ask page <3

I heard raindrops outside before Jaskier strung his lute again. I peak out the window to see lighting strike somewhere far away. The tavern, however is dry and safe. A fireplace is lit near me, providing a good bit of warmth. I lean my back against it now, looking at Jask.

His shadows remind me of the monsters Geralt slays, splashed across the floor. The wood creaks beneath his feet, but his music overpowers it as his singing fills the room. I hear Geralt grunt in front of me as he chugs his ale. Our eyes meet, and while he seems annoyed, he also looks happy. He got rid of some noonwraiths today, so we were celebrating. The townsfolk were welcoming to their newly found hero and his sidekicks.

Jaskier prances to our table, as if to check if his friends were paying attention to him. He made it really hard not to. I wink at him, as he offers me a smile, dancing away now. I sip my wine, taking eyes off the bard to look at the witcher. His gaze was glued to the window, but a smile was on his lips. I decided not to bother.

I hear some disturbance come from the entrance, as a man rushes in. He’s wet from the rain, but I doubt he cares about that. From underneath his jacket he pulls out a lute, inspecting it to see if there is any rain damage on it. I see his shoulders relax and the answer is clear.

Jaskier seems to notice a fellow bard too, stopping his lute. He waves the guy in, allowing him to take the honours of entertaining the guests, as he drops next to Geralt.

“I need a break.” He exhales the words, taking his ale and sipping it.

“Oh yes, being a bard is sure tiring.” Geralt teases, as Jask nudges him.

“Try to do it yourself, then.” I smirk at them, twirling the drink in my glass. “Y/N, do you think being a bard is easy?”

“Easier than being a witcher.” I mumble, chuckling. “But sure, it’s not easy.”

“I have to entertain the masses, you know what happens when they aren’t pleased?” Jaskier dramatically throws his hands in the air, looking to Geralt and back to me.

“They throw rocks at you?” I can’t help but let out a laugh and Geralt’s comment, who in response smirks. “Because that’s what some do when they see a witcher. They throw rocks or whatever happens to be at their disposal. One time it was a cat.”

“Oh no.” I say, now fully laughing. I see Jaskier break character too, as he giggles. “Cats hate you, Geralt.”

“Feelings mutual.” He smirks, as I giggle again.

The silence between is comfortable, but soon the rained upon bard fills it. His lute sounds different, not the sounds I’m used to, but it’s still pleasant. His voice now fills the tavern and I steal a glance at Jaskier, to see what he thinks.

From what I can tell, he likes it. His lips are curled in a smile, and he’s nodding along, without realizing it. I relax, glad he’s not getting competitive. Our eyes meet and he sticks his tongue out.

“I wont try to overplay him.” He says, as I smirk.

“Not again.” Geralt corrects the bard, who flushes red, downing his drink.

“Shut up.” He practically gargles at us.

I laugh. One time at a similar evening, another bard came in and Jaskier wasn’t happy about it. He also wasn’t on his first ale. Or his fifth, for that matter. So he tried to overplay the other guy, and things went wrong faster than Geralt and I could grasp. Our good friend was trying so hard, he danced into a pillar, breaking his lute in half, and then crying.

We helped him out. After we stopped laughing.

I see people spring to their feet now, as the empty space is filling up with patrons, dancing. Couples and friends alike start to move. In turn, bard makes his melody more cheery. I appreciate that, nudging my head side to side in beat.

“Y/N! Let’s dance!” Jaskier yells suddenly, startling me. I stare at the bard, who is already on his feet.

“Jaskier, you know I don’t dance.” I say, as he rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a party pooper and just do it.” He teases as I cross my arms. He grabs my shoulder shaking me.

“I don’t know how to dance!” I argue, and he stops the shaking only to start poking my arm.

“I’ll teach you.” He argues back and I see Geralt raise his eyebrows.

“Teach Y/N how to dance into pillars? Don’t let her embarrass herself like that.” I give witcher a thankful look, but Jaskier is relentless.

“Geralt, fuck off.” He puts his hand right up Geralt’s face, before looking to me again. “Y/N, let’s go!”

“Fine!” I finally give in, as Geralt looks like he is really close to losing his shit and hitting Jask or, gods forbid, his lute. I’d rather avoid another broken-lute-and-cry situation, as funny as it was.

I lazily stand up, and before I can even gain proper footing, Jaskier drags me out. I nearly run into one of the dancers, but at a last second, Jask pulls me out of the way. I glare at the bard who offers me an apologetic smile.

I straighten up, as he starts to step around, dancing. I blankly stare at him, not moving an inch of my body. Jaskier sighs, grabbing my hand and waving it around.

“Loosen up, Y/N.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m dancing. It’s called a statue.” I tease, as Jaskier nudges me, laughing.

“Just step around.” I raise my eyebrows. “Like you really need to use the restroom, but in time with the music.”

“What now?” I laugh, as he rolls his eyes, pulling away.

I try to take his advice the best of my ability, stepping around a little, but timing it with the music. Jaskier grins and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh. I stop, getting embarrassed, once he realizes that, he laughs and hugs me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just your legs, they move, but from waist up you look dead.” He laughs in my ear as my face heats up.

“Well should I just act like I’m dying and shake all around?” He snickers, pulling away. His hand still on my shoulder now slides to my hand.

“Let me lead you.” I press my lips, nodding.

“Sure.” I say, through my teeth.

“Do the leg thing.” I am not sure what he means, so the bard sighs. “The toilet dance.”

“Right.”

I do ‘the leg thing’ as Jask gently moves my arms around. He sees that I am not showing much, if any, restraint, so he grows more confident and bold in his moves. I feel like a ragdoll, dragged around, and he starts spinning.

Until I trip, falling and getting under his feet. He crashes on top of me, and I swear I hear Geralt laugh.

“I can’t breathe!” I grunt, as I feel Jaskier vibrate on top of me. It takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing. I try to push him, but the bard just won’t budge. “Jaskier, for the love of god!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, finally lifting himself off me. I glare at him as he extends his arm to me, helping me up. He breaks out into laughter yet again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I say, cleaning my dress with my hands. I feel my cheeks heat up as I see people snickering looking our way.

“Like you hate me.” He pokes my cheek, removing his hand before I can punch it away.

“But I do.” I respond, as the bard ends his song. People cheer for him, as Jaskier and I stare at each other. I struggle to keep a straight face, breaking into a smile. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Jaskier purrs, winking at me, before the bard plays another song, and he starts dancing around.

I don’t wait for him to drag me around again, and I start moving. I do the toilet dance, not forgetting my upper body this time. Jaskier looks me up and down, smiling. The tune pics up in speed, and I struggle to keep up, scared of tripping.

“Don’t be so scared.” I hear the familiar voice, as if he just read my mind. I give a quick glare at the bard, before focusing back to my feet. “You’re thinking too much.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be falling too much.” I hiss, still not lifting my eyes, until his hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Just look at me or close your eyes, and listen to the music.” He does a twist, grinning. “Let the music carry you.”

“I’m not a musician, Jaskier. Music doesn’t carry me.” He beeps my nose in response, an even bigger grin painting across his face.

“Music has a power to carry anyone. You just need to allow it to do it.” He waves me closer to himself, so I lean in. “And the secret is, nobody knows how to dance. That’s why nobody also judges others. We all just… allow ourselves to move.”

I step back, taking a deep breath in. I close my eyes, listening to the fast-cheery tune. I focus on the bards voice, as it wraps around me. I try to let go off my anxiety and fears, letting my body lose. I try not to think of what I’ doing and who may be watching. I follow the notes like my body is the instrument.

It feels freeing, as if some weight has been lifted off my chest.

I open my eyes, expecting to see some judgemental looks, hear some laughter, but just like Jaskier said, nobody was judging me. I even stole a glance at Geralt, who was simply paying no attention to us. I look at the bard, as he gives me an encouraging nod.

The song dramatically slows, and he now steps closer, extending his arm. I never danced with anyone, but Jaskier seemed like a good practise. We were great friends, so if something went wrong, I am less likely to want to dig myself into a hole.

His hand lands on my waist as I put mine on his shoulder. He takes our free hands, lifting it to the side. I know males lead, so I try to do the same thing. Give in to music, and follow the energy, which in this case was my partner. Our eyes meet and his blue ones shine, reflecting the fire. I smile, not even realizing we are, in fact dancing.

“You’re a natural.” He says, gently pushing me so I would turn.

“Maybe you’re a good lead.” He pretends to be surprised, twisting me around.

“Yes, I think that’s it.” He finally agrees, winking, as I let out a giggle. “See, dancing isn’t that bad.”

“I guess so.” I am reluctant to agree, I know he wont let me live this down. “As long as no pillars happen to be in a way.”

“You will never forget it, will you?” He says through his giggle, and I shrug.

“Maybe. But I wont forget this either.” I say, as he gives me a kind smile.

The song ends and I don’t let go off his hand, dragging us back to our table. We sit down and Geralt looks at us.

“You two danced well.” He says and I am taken back, as it is rare to get a compliment from witcher.

“Thanks.” I whisper, looking at the table.

I let go off Jaskiers hand, my heart beating faster. I don’t hear whatever he starts to blabber about, and I notice Geralt look away too. A different song picks up, and I cant stop my feet from dancing under the table.

I look out the window to see the rain has passed. The sky is clearing up.

#jaskier request #jaskier x reader #jaskier fluff #but not really??#witcher imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier one shot #tagging makes me so tired #after like two tags im so over it #but exposure #i want it #pls

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dvp95 · 4 years

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quiet on widow’s peak (6)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.9k (this chapter), 19.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Hope my friends and I didn't make things weird for you yesterday. We're heading to the city around noon if you're still up for helping us with the boring part.

noon?? fucking alright i guess i gotta put pants on

lmao yeah, sorry. My parents woke us up at EIGHT like that's a normal time to be awake????

desgostang

What?

ill send u the link later and also no i didnt feel weird yesterday you guys are nice

That's good! And hey I wanted to ask. You were kind of put on the spot with introducing yourself, would you rather we called you Dan or Winnie? I just wanna make sure we aren't making you uncomfortable at all lmao

no its all fine you can call me dan idc and actually its best if you do call me dan when youre in my work lmao

Are you totally sure?

why would i lie abt this. dont be an idiot it isnt a good look on you

haha okay. I’ll see you around noon.

“Christopher is a nice boy,” Phil’s mum is telling him as she helps him with their fancy new coffeemaker. There are so many buttons and Phil is so, so tired. “And Sophie is lovely, such a soft-spoken thing. Why haven’t we met them before, dear?”

“Dunno,” Phil says instead of the truth, which is that he’d had no idea how he was supposed to introduce them. “You have now, though.”

His mum laughs and reaches up to pat his cheek. “True enough. I’m so happy that you’ve got good people around you, Philip. I’ve gotten quite worried about you down there by yourself, you know.”

“I’m not by myself,” says Phil. “I live with, like, thirty people.”

“Bunch of strangers, I’ll bet,” she says, because she knows him. “Aside from those three.”

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Phil’s obviously exaggerating about the number of people under the roof of the creaky Brighton house, but the truth is that he can’t keep track half the time. A lot of the rooms get sublet out randomly, or a significant other will start spending so much time around the place that they might as well pay rent, and Phil really isn’t good with new people. He gets along fine with Holly and Dave, but they’ve been there as long as he has and the closest they’ve ever come to a heart-to-heart was comparing anxiety meds over burned pancakes.

Chris and Sophie were there when Phil moved in, and they’d taken one look at him and decided to just keep shoving into his space until he liked having them there, like they were on a mission to adopt PJ’s sad, ghost-obsessed friend from the internet.

“You might be right,” Phil says, feeling a smile tug at his lips for the first time all morning. He’s already had a coffee - and a half, when PJ declared that not even Kath could make coffee taste good and shoved the rest of his Phil’s way - but he still doesn’t feel fully awake. “I’m only really friends with Chris and Soph because of PJ.”

“PJ is a good friend to you, isn’t he?” his mum hums. That slightly pointed tone doesn’t get to Phil the way it usually does, because he knows that she’s just trying to understand him.

It doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that he’s looking into a mirror whenever he sees his parents watching him carefully, waiting for him to tell them something he hasn’t explicitly said, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to his housemates for nearly two years.

Maybe he’ll tell his parents when he’s got someone serious or even, like, semi-serious. Longer than two dates would be a record at this point. But right now he already feels like he’s been one misstep away from disappointing them, and he doesn’t want to take the gamble that his sexuality will be that misstep.

He’s not up for this conversation, though, isn’t sure he’ll ever be, so he just says, “Yeah, he is.”

Dan is late. They’re so late, actually, that Phil’s wheel of worst case scenarios has been spinning silently and getting faster and faster the more caffeine he chugs. They roll in with flushed cheeks and a jacket that looks too thin, apologies on their shiny lips that Phil doesn’t even hear for a couple of seconds because he’s too busy staring at them.

“No worries,” Sophie says, interrupting their rambling before they lose another half hour to it. “You want something? I’m getting a refill.”

“No, no, let me,” says Dan. They shrug off their jacket and hang it on one of the empty chairs. Phil and his friends have co-opted the largest table in the place so they can spread out with their laptops and notebooks, and it doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that Dan has decided to sit next to him when they’ve got a couple of options. “I get free drinks if Gabe’s in a good mood. Anyone else need a refill?”

“Me,” Chris says, not looking up from his screen. “Not Phil. He’s cut off.”

“Hey,” Phil protests weakly. His heart rate really has picked up since they sat down, so he knows Chris has a point.

Dan grins, their soft cheeks giving way to the dimples that Phil is very quickly growing obsessed with. He just wants to make Dan smile and laugh constantly, to hear them cackle and see all the lines in their round face deepen with happiness.

Right. Phil watched a horror movie with PJ instead of unpacking this fluttering start of a crush last night, and now he’s just got to deal with it for the rest of the day.

As if it’s a compulsion, Dan clears the empty mugs from their table before heading up to the counter. Phil focuses on the EMF readings so he doesn’t get caught up on Dan holding four mugs by the handles with total ease.

PJ has got headphones on and his eyes closed, so he might not even have noticed that Dan is there. He’s been going through Sophie’s footage and his own audio recordings to try and find some anomalies while Chris looks for the weird visual stuff - they’re a great team at that, and it makes Phil feel like he’s not doing enough. Sure, he could find those things on his own, but not as quickly as they can when it’s a team effort, and they’re on a bit of a tight schedule here. Well, his housemates are. They’ve got actual jobs to get back to once the weekend is over.

Allegedly, Sophie is doing research on sigils, but it looks to Phil like she’s just doodling. Not that he really blames her if she is. He’s barely been paying attention to the chart he’s making of spikes in electromagnetism because he’s been so busy watching the door for Dan.

And Dan looks… good. They’re wearing chunky boots and a shirt that falls to their thighs - a dress, maybe, but it looks like a regular black t-shirt that got extended at the hem - with tight white jeans. The only colour on them is the plaid shirt around their waist and the shiny red product on their lips to match it. Phil watches them lean against the counter and grin at the older barista, and he’s so distracted by looking at their profile that he startles when a foot connects with his under the table.

“Stop staring,” Sophie says, quiet and smiling. “He’s going to notice.”

Phil considers correcting her, but then he remembers that he probably doesn’t have to. Dan had said any pronouns, that they didn’t care how they were referred to, so it would definitely be weirder to act like he knows better than Sophie.

He knows he won’t be able to use masculine terms for Dan. Not because they aren’t true, because he’s pretty sure they’re no less accurate than neutral or feminine would be, but because thinking of Dan as a maculine person is only going to allow Phil’s brain to fall into the familiar traps of gender in ways he doesn’t want to allow.

Gay monkey brain doesn’t need any more leeway in finding Dan attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“So, what are we doing?” Dan asks, interrupting Phil’s thoughts, and, wow, four mugs is a lot more impressive when they’re full of hot liquid. Phil marvels at Dan’s ability not to trip and spill it all as they dole out the coffee and teas.

“I’m doing the boring part,” says Phil. He turns his screen so Dan can see the Excel spreadsheet and laughs at the face they make. “Yeah. It's not glamorous, but it's the easiest way to find patterns in the EMF readings. Honestly, most of my job is just staring at things and finding patterns in them. Like, uh, what's that guy? With the butterfly splotches?"

"Worcestershire," Chris suggests.

"Rorschach," Dan corrects him, lips twitching like they aren't sure if they're allowed to laugh in Chris' face or not.

“That’s exactly what I said,” says Chris.

“You know EMF meters don’t have anything to do with ghosts, right?” Dan asks, ignoring Chris completely and leaning a bit closer to Phil to get a better look at his laptop. “I mean, none of this has anything to do with ghosts, really, but you’re more or less just measuring electricity.”

Phil is aware of that. He wonders if Dan thinks he just stumbles into haunted houses with equipment he hasn’t researched and waits to be spooked. He’s too distracted by how close Dan is and how good they smell to work up to proper offense, though. “Yeah,” he says simply. “But don’t you think it’s weird that the place still has electricity to begin with? Who’s paying for that?”

“A Wilkins, I’d imagine.”

“But why? If they’ve forgotten about the property or abandoned it on purpose, surely they wouldn’t still pay the bills.”

“Maybe they don’t handle their own finances,” Dan suggests. “How rich were these assholes?”

“I honestly don’t know,” says Phil. He taps his fingers in an erratic pattern on the edge of his laptop, trying to spark something in his mind.

It’s almost disappointing when Dan pulls away to dig out their own sleek Macbook out of their messenger bag, but Phil is also glad for it. He can think a lot easier when the warm scent of spice and mint isn’t clogging his brain.

Dan slots into the work as easily as if a space was left for them. They’ve got dozens of tabs open already and they start to go through them, cross-referencing magic things with Sophie in quiet tones and digging deeper into the Wilkins family than Phil ever would have thought to. Every so often they tap Phil on the arm and drag him into whatever rabbithole they’ve fallen down, chatting animatedly.

Phil knows, objectively, that Dan is a fan of his and that Dan is weird about research. It’s another thing entirely to watch it happen in real time, to see Dan pull up local census PDFs from the eighties and explain why chaos magic is bullshit in the same breath.

An hour or so goes by like that, all of them working on their own things with minimal words exchanged by everybody but Dan, and then Chris shouts loud enough to make the barista jump. Nobody else is in the coffee shop right now, which is lucky, because Dan’s got a hand over their chest and Sophie has slopped tea down her front. PJ, with his headphones on, simply cracks an eye open.

“What the fuck was that about?” Phil asks, putting his own palm against his chest to feel his heart race. Dan raises their eyebrows and looks at Phil, seemingly distracted from the startling, wordless exclamation.

They don’t get a chance to say whatever they’re thinking, though, because Chris is turning his laptop to the rest of the table and grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. “I found something.”

Everybody gathers round, PJ getting up to lean over the back of Phil’s chair and Sophie getting so far into Dan’s personal space that Phil is certain they’re uncomfortable with it, and then Chris presses play upside down. It’s part of Sophie’s footage, Phil standing in the dim foyer and looking frustrated. Even without sound, Phil can tell that this is when he was arguing with Sophie about going upstairs. He squints, but he can’t see whatever it is that’s got Chris being so loud.

“What am I looking at?” PJ asks when the short clip ends, and Dan hums an agreement. Chris makes a frustrated noise like they’re being obtuse on purpose and rewinds to the beginning.

"There," Chris says, excited like he hasn't been since they got to Manchester. He taps his finger against the laptop screen. "D'you see it? D'you see the shadow?"

Now that Chris has pointed it out, Phil does see something. He moves his own laptop and notebook out of the way to pull Chris’ closer with a frown. Chris lets him do that, bouncing in his seat a little bit.

“That’s straight up a person,” Phil says slowly, tracing the outline of the shadow with the mouse. It’s behind him, in the entry to the kitchen, and it looks tall. Quite a bit taller than Phil, anyway, if he’s remembering that doorframe correctly. He decides to measure it next time they go so he isn’t going off memory. “I knew we weren’t alone in there. Like. I’m not crazy, that’s a human being.”

“That’s what I thought,” says Chris. “But press play.”

So Phil presses play. He watches the shadow stay perfectly still in the kitchen doorway until, suddenly, it’s not there anymore. He blinks, rewinds, and watches it disappear again.

Phil’s caffeinated brain is firing on all cylinders now. He grins and shoves his sleeves up to his elbows before he starts fiddling with the clip. The lighting gets played with until the shadow is more obvious and then he slows it down to 0.25 times speed to see if the shadow really just vanishes.

He presses play again. This time, with a very slow-motion Phil talking in the foreground, he sees the shadow move. It runs sideways, further into the house.

“What the fuck?” Dan breathes.

“We are not going back there without some serious protection,” PJ says, even firmer on the topic now.

“What, like sigils?” Dan asks, their pretty eyes wide even as they scoff. “You’d be better off with a fucking, like, baseball bat, mate. That doesn’t look like something that wants to be your friend.”

“I’ve got a crowbar in PJ’s trunk,” Phil says, absent-minded as he plays with the clip some more.

“Excuse me? When did you put that in my car?”

“Couple months ago.”

“Huh. How have I not noticed?”

“You’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met,” says Phil. He looks up at Chris, who’s got the same exhilarated look that Phil is sure he’s mirroring. They don’t get evidence like this very often, something so clearly there that it’s even got a skeptic’s mind racing. Phil exports the edited clip and then the original, putting them both into the Cloud and emailing them to himself. “Was this the only time you saw it?”

Chris nods, accepting his laptop back when Phil is done with it. “I’ll look through everything again, now that I know what I’m looking for and all, but I think that’s it.”

“Okay, cool.” Phil looks around at his friends and Dan, beaming. “Something weird is happening. I love it when something weird is happening.”

“I hate it when something weird is happening,” PJ says, which is a blatant lie.

“Well, we can’t go snooping around until it’s darker out, anyhow,” Sophie reminds them.

“Wait, we’re snooping?” Dan asks, their voice going up an entire octave in disbelief. “Like… you just saw that someone is there and probably not happy about people sneaking around, right? Don’t you have enough for a video already?”

“We’re spending the night,” says Phil. “It’s what we do.”

“It’s what you do,” PJ corrects him.

“Okay, yeah, you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m coming,” says PJ.

As if she can’t hear them bickering, Sophie turns to Dan with a sweet smile, her eyes twinkling with the same excitement in Chris’. They love this, just like Phil does. “What about you, Dan?” she asks. “Are you going to have a ghost sleepover with us?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Dan says, their eyes still glued to the back of Chris’ laptop like they can see the shadow through it.

“Guess you don’t have anything to be afraid of, then,” says Chris.

“Uh, axe murderers, maybe?”

“We know what we’re doing, Dan,” Phil reassures them. He reaches a hand out to pat at their arm, feeling a bit awkward about it. “But you don’t have to come with us if you’re scared.”

That makes Dan’s gaze shift. Suddenly, those brown eyes are staring right into Phil’s soul, defiant and beautiful and impossible to look away from.

“Who said I was fucking scared?”

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #quiet on widow's peak #this chapter is a little short thanks to me prioritizing my mental health BUT i am still happy with it #so i hope you like it too #even if you might think the plot is slow!

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