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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

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You Bring Me Home — Chapter One: Flightless Bird, American Mouth

a/n: I've been working on this story for mooonths now and I'm so excited to finally share it with the world! It's heavily inspired by Harry's Behind the Album mini doc, except I changed the setting to Hawai'i because I've personally spent some time there and as they say, write what you know! YBMH takes place in the period between One Direction's hiatus and Harry's first album/tour, but with that being said, this is entirely a work of fiction and some events don't follow the true timeline. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story, I hope you love it as much as I do! It will be updated every Friday at 5 PM PST. My inbox is open, so feel free to talk to me once you've finished reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

May, 2016

Harry watches LAX get smaller through the airplane window and visualizes all of his worries stuck at the terminal gate, their magnitude also diminishing as he takes flight. He sinks lower in his seat and skims through playlists on his phone when a nagging feeling at the back of his mind pulls his attention away from the screen. Looking up from the song choices, he spots a cell phone quickly lowered from his line of vision and a girl with flushed cheeks who quickly averts her gaze. Harry shoots a tight-lipped smile in her direction and goes back to his phone with a sigh. The days when he could roam the streets freely without fear of recognition—or worse, harassment—feel like an entirely different lifetime. He sometimes imagines that he’ll wake up back in his childhood bed as if the past five years had all been a dream, but he never does. In fact, his privacy and anonymity seem to dwindle with each minute of radio play that One Direction receives. It’s a bittersweet pill to swallow, but one he hopes will go down easier with some time in the Hawaiian sun.

His close friend and new manager, Jeff Azoff, had suggested the vacation as soon as the band privately agreed to take a hiatus.

“You’ll go home for a few weeks,” his voice had crackled through the speakers of Harry’s phone. “Visit your mom and Gem, lay low for a while until the smoke blows over,”

Harry mulled it over in his mind, eyes flickering over the rolling landscape outside of the tour bus window.

“Then what?”

“Then you go for a little vacation. The label offered to cover a house in Hawaii so you can start working on the album,”

“Alone?”

Jeff chuckled lightly on the other end before responding. “I mean, if that’s what you want,”

“No,” Harry corrected. “You and Tom should come. Mitch and Bhasker, too,”

“The dream team,”

“And there’ll be a studio there?”

“Yes,” Jeff started, almost hesitant. “But I don’t want you to think about that too much,”

“But you said the label—"

“I also said vacation. Look, Rob said ‘it will all happen in due time,' did he not?”

Harry twisted the rose ring around his finger, tracing over the silver petals and thinking back to his conversation with the CEO of Sony Music, Rob Stringer. Upon the proposal of his debut solo album, Rob had told him that the most important ingredient for a successful debut would be patience. The singer had agreed in the moment, but every day not spent in the studio felt like a test he hadn’t studied hard enough for.

“Yeah.”

“So you take the free vacation,” Jeff suggested. “You go out, live, get some writing material. Maybe mess around with some tunes. And then we come back to L.A. and get to work. But until then, I just want you to focus on taking it easy.”

So take it easy he had. Or at least he had tried to when he was back home in England. Harry quickly grew restless after what felt like the millionth awkward conversation with past friends and acquaintances, all of which eventually led to the topic of One Direction and it’s unexpected hiatus. After one month at home, his mind and journal were full of ideas for songs, things that he wanted to say before he lost his nerve. One night as he tossed and turned in bed, he shot Jeff a text, just two words that would kick off a three month getaway to the Big Island of Hawai'i:

I’m ready.

********

“Sounds great, I'll go put in your order.” Alani offers sweetly, trying not to overdo it with the customer service voice. After waiting on the family at her designated table, she heads back to the kitchen and finds her younger sister, Pua, crouched in the corner taking what appears to be a serious phone call.

“I don’t know, I just saw it!” Her sister cries in a hushed tone. “Where do you think he’s going?”

“Is everything okay?” Alani cuts in with concern.

Pua whispers into the speaker before bringing the phone to her shoulder.

“Harry Styles was just spotted on a plane this morning,”

“Who?”

“The guy from One Direction,” her sister explains with a hint of irritation in her voice. “The band who sings that song you secretly like, ‘Fireproof,'”

Alani vaguely recalls the melody, but she waits expectantly for Pua to elaborate. “And this is news because…”

“Because the band just broke up, so where could he possibly be going?”

"The unemployment office?”

Pua rolls her eyes and returns to her phone call while Alani envelops her in a tight hug.

“I’m just kidding!” Alani apologizes, squeezing tighter despite her sister’s attempts to break free. “I’m sure he’ll be living off of royalty checks until he’s, like, eighty,”

“Get off me, freak!” Pua cries out, finally breaking the embrace.

Alani clutches her chest and pulls out an invisible knife. “Ouch. I’m telling Harry you said that,”

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” the younger sister huffs, storming out of the kitchen through the employee entrance where Alani’s best friend, Maleah, has just arrived.

“Looks like someone forgot to eat their Cheerios today,” she remarks, tying her curls into a high ponytail.

Alani shrugs and leans against the counter. “She’s going through something. Just discovered that boys in pop bands are, in fact, just regular boys.”

“Poor thing,” Maleah frowns. “We all have to learn eventually.”

********

The sky is a blend of cotton candy pink and burnt orange when Alani returns home from the café with a strawberry smoothie in tow. She empties the mailbox and sorts through the various bills and advertisements, but her stomach drops when she sees a familiar return address label. After a quick greeting to her excited dog who waits at the door, Alani bolts up the stairs and quietly shuts the bedroom door behind her. Breathe, she reminds herself before tearing into the envelope and discarding it onto the wooden floor.

Dear Ms. Hale,

We are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine. However, we regret to inform you—

She doesn’t read the rest, slumping to the floor in defeat. The sixth rejection letter from Rolling Stone lies crumpled at Alani’s feet and she kicks it across the room with a frustrated grunt. She had worked for over two months perfecting her analysis of Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi and its allusions to the environmental impact of urban development in Hawaii. As part of her initial research, Alani had even traveled to both the Royal Hawaiian hotel in Honolulu, which is the famous Pink Hotel mentioned in the song, and Foster Botanical Garden that Mitchell referred to as “the tree museum.” She was certain that her effort and persistence would result in at least a consideration. The second third time's the charm! Maleah had joked watching Alani submit the piece. Six articles in the span of two years, each one facing the same rejection despite the increased effort Alani had put in over time. The fact that the rejection letter hadn’t changed over the course of the two years brings an incredulous smile to her face, and her stomach turns when she considers that the editors probably hadn’t even read her work, anyway. All that effort, she thinks to herself, all that time, for nothing.

“It will take time,” her favorite professor, Dr. Hudson, had reassured her three months after the Joni Mitchell article was submitted. “Every great writer faced countless rejection until that one piece. Yours will come. Keep your eyes open and your pen ready.”

Alani sighs and lifts herself off the floor, choosing to crawl into her unmade bed instead of slumping onto the hardwood. She hears a soft scratching at the door before her King Charles Spaniel, Freddie, pads into the room.

“Come here, bubs,” Alani whispers. He obeys and burrows into the duvet, giving her temple a gentle lick before nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

“You still love me, right?” she asks, voice cracking. “Even if I’m a failure?”

Freddie sniffs her ear in response.

********

“Right,” Harry says, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he reads the map. “No, left, sorry,”

“Do you actually know how to read a map?” Jeff teases, correcting the turn.

Harry pouts in response, his brows furrowing. “In my defense, we’re literally in the middle of fucking nowhere,”

“There are worse places to be,” Mitch pipes up from the back seat. “England, for example, where they say things like ‘litchrally’,”

“Very well said, Mitchell,” Jeff Bhasker adds with a fake British accent of his own.

Harry turns to his friends in the back seat with a finger pointed like an agitated mother. “If you lot don’t shut up, I’m gonna lead us to a volcano and push you in,”

“Where are we even going? I forgot,” Tom complains.

“To get food,” his manager responds from the driver’s seat. “I think,”

“Why can’t we just stop there?” Mitch asks pointing to a café pulling up on their right.

Jeff merges into the turning lane quickly without a second thought. “Good enough for me, I’m starving.”

“Sorry, H.” Mitch pats his friend on the shoulder.

Harry scoffs. “You’re the one who wanted poke.”

The Aloha Nui Loa Café is much more spacious than the exterior suggests, yet it still feels cozy. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various local art pieces, as described by the plaques that accompany them. A skylight fills the center of the room with plenty of warm lighting, leaving the space along the walls in a bit more shade for an intimate feel. In one corner, a hanging disco ball leaves freckles of sparkling light along the walls where the sunlight hits, making the whole image very idyllic in Harry’s mind. As if he couldn’t enjoy the setting more, he hears the beginning of an Otis Redding song that he’s had stuck in his head drift through the restaurant speakers.

“Welcome in!” a voice calls, which pulls him from his survey of the room. His head whips to the source—a girl around his age with wavy, dark hair and honey skin. “For here or to go?”

Harry takes a hesitant step up to the counter. “For here,”

She smiles warmly and pulls some menus from under the counter. “How many in your party?”

“Five.”

“Great, follow me.”

Harry and his friends follow the waitress to the corner of the room under the disco ball and take their seats at the round table.

“My name is Alani,” she introduces herself, setting the menus down. “I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Harry continues scanning the restaurant while his group orders. His eyes land on the shirt that Alani is wearing, a white tee with the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey” in blue lettering that surrounds a picture of a cartoon bee.

“Harry,” Jeff says gently, catching his drifting attention.

The singer turns to his manager, who nods to Alani waiting with a pen pressed to her notepad. Harry feels a rush of embarrassment creep across his cheeks and he clears his throat to cover it.

“Just water,” he says, eyes glued to the menu. “Thanks.”

“You got it.” Alani nods, flashing a toothy grin at the rest of the group before turning back to the kitchen. Harry. Her mind repeats, finding a hint of familiarity, though she doesn’t know why.

When Alani arrives at the drink station, she finds her sister staring at her, mouth agape, while Maleah unsuccessfully conceals her laughter.

“What?” she questions, checking herself for any embarrassing stains or smells.

“You were—and he—” Pua stammers. “He was—and then he—”

“That’s Harry Styles,” Maleah translates, her voice hushed as she peers over her friend's shoulder.

Alani turns to steal a glance at the table she just seated, but Pua and Maleah latch onto her and shake their heads frantically.

“Don’t look!” her sister hisses.

Alani smirks, amused at their reactions. “No shit. That’s One Direction?”

Maleah snorts, clasping a hand over her mouth as Pua huffs. “No, dumbass! It’s just Harry. I don’t know who the other guys are,”

“But the blonde guy? That’s not—?”

“No!” Pua and Maleah giggle in unison.

“Okay, geez,” Alani relents. She manages to steal a quick glance at the table over her shoulder, immediately searching for Harry. Her eyes scan over the long, curly hair kept out of his face by a pair of white sunglasses that she had seen on Kurt Cobain once. All of his features are sharp and striking, from his pointed nose and defined jawline to the bright blue eyes. Or maybe they were grey? Alani wonders, trying to remember the exact shade. He doesn’t look anything like the fresh-faced teeny bopper she’d had in mind, the one from a music video her sister had shown her a long time ago. She would have never guessed that the What Makes You Beautiful singer had so much dark ink trailing down his bicep and forearm, though her knowledge of One Direction was very limited.

“What did he order?” Pua questions, her eyes wide.

Alani quickly snaps back to reality and resumes filling the drinks. “A water,”

“Oh my god,” Maleah swoons. “I’m never drinking anything else ever again,”

“I didn’t even know you liked him,” Alani teases with an eyebrow raised.

Maleah sneaks another peek at the table and catches her lower lip between her teeth. “I mean, I didn’t really think so either but look at him. What a fucking dream,”

Harry was objectively handsome, this Alani could admit, but she personally didn’t see the appeal and had a strong feeling that he was just like every other male celebrity. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make eye contact with her only served as further proof of what she knew to be true.

“Okay, well, your dreamboat is waiting for his water. So excuse me,” Alani winks, making her way back to the table.

The singer spots Alani returning out of the corner of his eye and the sight of her causes a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to duck for cover. Instead, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be occupied with something on the screen.

“Okay,” she greets, setting the drink tray down. “I have a Blue Hawaii, a Mango Mama, two Loco Cocos, and a water,”

The group graciously accepts their drinks with a chorus of “thank you," but the only one under Alani’s scrutiny is Harry. He still doesn’t meet her almond eyes, and though she figured he wouldn’t, she can’t help the inkling of disappointment that washes over her. After taking their meal orders, Alani heads back to the kitchen, checking on her other customers along the way. Harry’s eyes follow her and he observes the way customers light up at her presence, indulging her conversation with laughter. He watches as she lingers by the jukebox in one corner of the room, a detail he had missed in his initial scan, and waits anxiously to see what song she chooses. Baby I’m-a Want You begins softly and Harry feels the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly. Good choice, he thinks.

********

“He’s still here,” Pua muses, peering through the tiny window in the kitchen door. It had been nearly two hours and the five men were still seated around their table cracking jokes and doing a lot of talking with their hands.

Alani doesn’t look up from her bowl of sliced kiwis, offering a hum in response. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“Nothing,” Pua shoots back. “Don’t bother him,”

“What kind of girls do you think he’s into?” Maleah asks, attempting to peek through the window.

Alani shrugs, bored of the conversation and of thinking about Harry. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s a real sucker for the ones who stalk him while he’s eating,”

“How does he make eating a salad look hot?”

“Can we talk about something else now?” Alani whines, poking holes in a lone kiwi with her fork.

Pua tosses a wet dish rag in her sister’s direction and cheers when it lands in her face. “Go see if he wants more water, he looks thirsty.”

“I already refilled it,” Alani defends. “Twenty minutes ago. I’ve refilled it a hundred times, I’m surprised he hasn’t peed his pants.”

I’m gonna piss myself. Harry thinks, his right leg bouncing to distract himself. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. Like clockwork, she would return to fill his glass almost as soon as the last drop had been drained, and so what began as a little experiment slowly turned into a bladder hazard. But if the trend was to be trusted, she would be back any minute and he wasn’t going to miss it; afterall, there were only so many ways to casually linger in a small café without making it weird. Unable to bear it any longer, he heads to the restroom and hopes that Alani doesn’t clear their table before he has a chance to see her again.

Harry pads down the back hallway with his eyes cast down at the floor, which proves to be a mistake when he walks directly into another person.

“Sorry!” they both apologize quickly, Harry’s palm taking purchase on the other person’s upper arm.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he offers, finally meeting the dark, mocha eyes already looking back at him.

Alani presses her lips into a tight smile. “Me either,”

Harry’s heartbeat picks up when he realizes it’s her, and he isn’t aware of how close they’re standing until he detects the faint scent of kiwi on her breath. He takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.

“So I guess I’ll just—”

“Yeah, sure.”

Green. Alani notes to herself. His eyes are green.

********

Shortly after Harry returned from the restroom, him and his friends settled their bill and headed out. Alani cleared their table and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the hefty tip left behind. The word mahalo was also left behind on the receipt, underlined twice, and she wondered if it was his handwriting.

Later that night, she settled into bed with her laptop and hesitantly typed his name into Google. As she expected, countless articles about the split of One Direction emerged, most of them speculating what was next for each member. To her surprise, however, Harry’s name seemed to be mentioned more than his fellow bandmates as various sources labeled him “the next Justin Timberlake” and rising star of the group. Upon further investigation, she learned that the demand for information about the elusive Harry Styles was high, especially concerning any possible solo music. No news had yet been confirmed by Styles himself, nor anyone claiming to represent him, but she still wondered if his presence in Hawaii had anything to do with a possible solo project. Almost as soon as she thought it, Alani dismissed the theory in favor of the idea that he was most likely just taking a vacation. And from the buzz that she saw surrounding the news about One Direction, she couldn’t blame him.

The more Alani read, the more she wanted to know, and something deep down told her that his was a story worth telling. Of course, the only problem was that she had hardly talked to him, and there were only so many things she could say about the fifteen glasses of water he downed. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again, either, or if he was merely stopping in Hilo on his way to another island or somewhere else entirely. Alani sighed, thinking back to her most recent rejection from Rolling Stone. She knew that there was no possible way she would ever see or talk to Harry ever again, and even if she did, why would he bare his entire soul to a stranger? Still, she let her mind wander through the possibility.

Dear Ms. Hale, the letter would read, we are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine and are pleased to inform you that your piece on Harry Styles will be featured in next month’s issue. Additionally, we would be honored to have you on staff, effective immediately.

It was far-fetched, Alani knew this, but she dozed off that night with endless ideas swimming in her head.

********

By the third day after his visit, the only trace of Harry is in Alani’s search history. She would have completely forgotten about him if it weren’t for her sister’s constant reminiscing and multiple attempts to rename the house salad to the “Harry Special.” As a result, a part of Alani’s thoughts periodically linger back to that day and the subsequent hours spent on Google that she’d rationalized as research instead of stalking. Somehow the knowledge that she’ll never see him again only adds fuel to the questions still burning in her mind, but a customer clearing their throat while she sorts menus below the hostess podium interrupts her thoughts.

“Welcome in!” She calls, standing. “What can I—”

She stops in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Harry blinks and waits for her to continue.

“What can I get started for you?” Alani tries again, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her shock. Luckily for her, Harry had been too focused on choosing his next words to register her mistake.

“What’s in the Honu smoothie?” he asks, mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question when the menu just inches above her head clearly spells it out.

Alani hums, thinking back to the times she had made the smoothie herself. “Kiwis, spinach, mango, avocado, and a hint of lime,”

“I’ll take one of those,” Harry says, reaching for his wallet.

Alani punches in the order with trembling fingers and nods. “For here or to go?”

“To go,”

Disappointment fills her chest. Sure, she hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, but the fact that she did felt like a sign. If she wanted to take the chance, she’d have to do it fast.

“Anything else?” she asks, weighing her options while he skims the menu.

“No thanks.”

Alani makes the smoothie quickly, head spinning. She had spent most of the night after their initial meeting planning out exactly the type of questions she hoped to ask him and what kind of article she would write. She was used to writing about what she knew—artists and music she’d admired for years— but she figured that starting fresh with someone she hardly knew would be a good challenge. Not to mention that it seemed like just the thing Rolling Stone would jump for. Alani finally works up the courage as she finishes his smoothie, but when she returns to hand it to him and hopefully strike up a conversation, his ear is pressed to his cell phone. She holds out the drink and he graciously accepts, giving her a small nod as a “thank you” and rushing out of the restaurant.

Two days later he returns and is seated at the counter, typing away on his phone. Alani feels both a rush of optimism and annoyance at the universe for dangling his presence so unexpectedly. She starts heading over to him, but Maleah cuts in.

“Trade me?” she proposes, eyes wide.

Alani blinks. “Oh, I would but I—”

“Please,” her best friend pouts. “I’m leaving to see my grandparents in stupid California for two months. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again?”

Alani sighs, but gives in, reluctantly exchanging Harry for the family of four seated by the window. A strange feeling settles into the pit of his stomach when he sees that she heads in the opposite direction after a hushed conversation with another waitress. He doesn’t know why she traded him for a different customer, but he takes the hint.

A week goes by without another sighting of Harry and Alani has permanently taken on the role of greeting hostess in hopes of seeing him again. Her heartbeat temporarily speeds up when she sees a long haired customer approach the door, but her spirits quickly fall when the face doesn’t match his.

Another week brings another disappointing realization that Harry might be gone for good. One rainy morning when the restaurant is quiet and only two customers huddle together in a booth near the back, Alani hunches over the hostess podium and doodles on a stray receipt— a sunflower, a crescent moon, and two hearts. The bell above the door jingles but she doesn’t look up, too absorbed in her scribbles.

“Do you serve coffee?”

The familiar accented voice stops Alani’s pen dead in its tracks. She lifts her eyes first to confirm, and then straightens up when she sees that her ears haven’t deceived her.

“Yes,” she swallows.

“Great. I’ll take it to go,”

She slightly deflates, but Harry thinks he’s reading too much into it.

“Actually,” he corrects anyway, just in case he isn’t. “I think I’ll stay for a while,”

Alani flashes a warm smile and nods in the direction of the counter. “Right this way,”

Harry sheds his windbreaker onto the back of the seat, revealing a black and white Rolling Stones t-shirt that makes Alani’s blood pressure rise. A sign, she thinks.

“What do you want in your coffee?” she questions carefully.

“Nothing,” he responds, shaking out his damp hair gently. “Or actually, uh, butter...if you have some,”

Alani blinks, not sure if she’d heard correctly or if there had been some transatlantic miscommunication.

“Butter?”

“Yeah,”

“Like the—”

“Spread, yeah,” Harry confirms. “It’s weird, I know,”

She lets out a light-hearted laugh and nods. “It’s a...unique request,”

“I thought the same thing at first,” Harry confides. “It’s not bad, actually. But maybe I’ve just been in L.A. for too long.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She offers a polite smile and heads to the kitchen where the cook and two other waiters talk amongst each other. Alani is grateful that the restaurant is slow this morning because she knows that it means minimal interruptions to her time with Harry. To ensure this, though, she asks one of the other waiters to cover the podium and returns to Harry with his coffee.

“One butter coffee, free of judgement,” the waitress announces, setting it down.

Harry grins softly, stirring the drink with the spoon Alani provided. “You can judge, it’s alright,”

“I just wanna know why,”

The coffee had been part of a fad diet while on tour in order to boost Harry’s energy on stage and stay trim for the hundreds of photo-ops he would be a part of. He doesn’t know how to communicate all of this to Alani, however, not sure how much she knows about that part of him, so he shrugs and tells a simplified version of the truth.

“I read about this trend a while back, it's called bulletproof coffee. Supposed to get your energy up and I needed it for my job,”

“Which is…” Alani trails off, downplaying the knowledge that she had acquired from Google.

“I make music,” is all Harry says and he takes a sip of the drink to avoid elaborating.

“Anything I would have heard?”

He swallows hard and listens to the faint rumbling of thunder outside before replying. “Possibly,”

“Try me,” Alani challenges.

He narrows his eyes and takes another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself first?”

“What do you wanna know?”

Everything, Harry responds internally, though he reigns it in. “How you got into waitressing,”

Alani sighs, resting her elbows on the counter across from him. “There’s not much to tell, it’s a family business. What I really wanna do is write,”

“Music?”

“Articles. I’m studying Journalism at UH,”

Harry hums in response, filing the detail away in the back of his mind. “Sounds interesting. You ever publish anything?”

“Not yet,” Alani shakes her head gently, toying with the sleeves of her green University of Hawaii crewneck. “Hopefully soon, though,”

Harry racks his brain for something else to say, but before he can, Alani speaks up again.

“Is it my turn to ask something now?”

He offers a curt nod and stirs his coffee.

“What kind of music do you write?”

Harry chooses to be vague again. “Different stuff. Pop, usually. Been messing with some classic rock, though,”

“Explains the shirt,”

He peers down at the design on his tee and agrees. “Yeah, I guess so,”

“Do you like it?” Alani asks, her eyes begging to make contact with his again. “Writing music, I mean,”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms, tapping his spoon against the rim of the mug. “I really do,”

Alani’s heart pounds. This is her chance, a moment to finally secure her breakthrough piece. She doesn’t know how to approach it, so she opts to dive right in without looking back. The worst he can say is no.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“That’s cheating,” Harry teases lightly. “It's my turn,”

She pouts playfully, but obliges. “Fire away,”

Harry doesn’t know which question to ask first, but when he glances down at the crescent moon inked on her wrist, he decides to start there.

“What’s with the moon tattoo?”

Alani isn’t sure what she expected him to ask and wonders what purpose such a detail could possibly serve him, but she answers anyway.

“Oh, well,” she begins, tracing her index finger over the outline. “It’s kinda the meaning of my full name. It’s Mahealani, Hawaiian for ‘heavenly moon,'”

Fitting, Harry comments to himself. Every detail he learns about her makes him want to learn that much more, from her favorite foods to the last thing she thinks about before falling asleep. Studying her expectant eyes, he suddenly remembers that it’s his turn to respond.

“That’s cool,” is all he says.

Alani doesn’t know what to make of the faraway look in his eye, but she decides to pose her most burning question while he appears to be in good spirits.

“I know this is gonna sound totally out of the blue,” she starts, working past the lump in her throat. “But when you mentioned how you write music, I was just reminded of this assignment I’m working on in my class,”

Harry waits for her to continue, nursing his now lukewarm coffee.

“I’m supposed to write a piece about someone who I don’t know that well,” she continues. “You know, to practice our interviewing skills. And, well, I was just kind of wondering if you might be interested in helping me out—being the subject, I mean,”

Alani had every intention of telling Harry the truth, about how she really planned to submit the article to Rolling Stone in hopes of securing an internship before her college graduation next Spring. But as she started speaking, she quickly realized how it would come off: a complete stranger asking for personal information to submit to a well-known publication. She knew that there was a chance he would shut down and never return, so she lowered the stakes and hoped that this route would be less risky. Was it ethical? Alani hadn’t decided yet, but she would work out the details later. After six failed articles and two years of rejection, she saw a ray of hope and wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Harry ponders her offer for a moment, which confirms that she had recognized him. Normally he would be off-put by such a request, and to a certain extent he is, but there is something sincere in her voice that he trusts deep down. Before he agrees, however, he decides to fish around a bit to test her reaction.

“You know who I am,” he says gently. “Don’t you?”

Alani’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach, not sure what to say next. She hopes with every fiber of her being that she hasn’t upset him, or worse, ruined her chances, so she decides to offer some truth to throw him off her scent.

“My sister recognized you,” she explains. “That day you came in with your friends. I thought they were your bandmates at first,”

This lets Harry know that she isn’t a total stalker, which is comforting, but he wouldn’t have been minded if she were a fan simply engaging in conversation.

“Oh,” he laughs weakly.

“I totally understand if you say no,” Alani offers quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I just thought it was worth a shot. And that it might be more interesting than interviewing our produce guy,”

Harry decides to give her one last scan for any sign of insincerity. He’d always felt that his gut instinct was strong and it hadn’t led him astray thus far.

“An interview?” he clarifies.

“Just one,” Alani promises. “An hour, tops. And you can proofread all of it once I’ve finished, too.”

Harry waits a beat, already knowing his reply, but he wants to see how she will react to his silence. She doesn’t budge, almond eyes set and determined.

“Okay.”

next chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #ybmh #she's here she's here she's here!!!!!

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wondereads · 3 years

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Personal Review (08/29/21)

Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Why am I reviewing this book?

I've heard so many good things about this book that I had to set aside time to read it despite it being the size of a grown cat. I'd say it lived up to my expectations.

Want something short and sweet? Check out my tiktok

Plot 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Told from four perspectives, humanity lives in constant fear of the Nameless One, a huge, vicious dragon, and his servants, the wyrms. Everyone dreads the day he might return, but it might be closer than they think. In Inys, Ead uses her forbidden magic to protect Queen Sabran whose bloodline is believed to hold the Nameless One at bay. Sabran's friend Loth is sent to investigate the now wyrm-controlled Ysaclin. In Seiiki, Tane is close to achieving her dream of becoming a rider of one of the benevolent eastern dragons, but she and disgraced alchemist Niclays Roos are caught up with an illegal outsider.

There's so much going on in this story that it's no wonder it takes over 800 pages to tell. You'd think a book that long would drag on, but there's always something going on. Even at the beginning when high fantasy books are usually a bit slow due to worldbuilding, this book jumps right in with assassination attempts, illegal, possibly plague-ridden outsiders, and infiltration of a country controlled by pure evil.

I can only imagine how long it took to plan this book because everything fits together so well. I feel like if I reread it I'd be catching hints everywhere, which is how it should be! There's so much more I'd love to talk about, but I'll stop here for the sake of spoilers.

Characters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

When I said everything fits together so well, that applied to the characters too. I felt like there were almost no unimportant characters. While the main characters and important supporting characters were all very well developed, even characters like Tane's classmates and Inys servants are brought back at some point. It's a touch of realism; just because there are bigger things going on doesn't mean those relationships have ceased to exist.

My personal favorite narrator was Ead, and Tane was a close second. To be completely honest, I was simping for Ead that entire book. A magical, protective, attractive, understanding bodyguard? Sign me up. On the other hand, I related to Tane more since she had a clear goal and was closer to me in age.

I just think the characters were very well written, and practically everyone got some sort of development or personality or something.

Writing Style 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

For such a long book, the pacing is impeccable. There's always something happening, there's always a new revelation, there's always problems arising or solutions being found. I think the uncertainty about the Nameless One's return really helped there.

I really liked how Shannon wrote emotions. For example, when it comes to Niclays' grief, it was almost palpable how much pain he was in.

Unfortunately, this category contains my only gripe. I know Shannon had her reasons for making this all one book rather than a duology or trilogy, I know. Still, there were some times when I had to force myself to continue because the book was taking so long to finish. I'm glad I read it over vacation so I couldn't just put it aside and promise to finish it later (when we all know I wouldn't). Other than that, though, I am absolutely complaint-free.

Meaning 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

There's a lot of commentary on religion and how organized religion can grow out of control and gradually be corrupted, which is best shown through Crest. Most of the divides between West and East and West and South are because of conflicting religious ideals. Something I liked was that none of those religions was portrayed as the "wrong" one when it came to their followers beliefs. Even if certain religions weren't based on credible information, the followers are never villainized for that. This book makes it very clear that religion is only "bad" when it is used to hurt and divide, and I think that's a rather unique take on the issue when so much fiction these days equates religion and evil.

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I'm so glad I took the time to read this book, even though it took me like a week. I was really engaged the whole time even if it gave me so much anxiety. It's very diverse with multiple POC and LGBT characters. Also, I'm just a sucker for dragons; I'd die to ride Nayimathun. I would recommend this book for people who enjoy epic high fantasy, deep relationships, and satisfying standalones.

The Author

Samantha Shannon: 29, British, also wrote The Bone Season

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

#books #recommendations #reviews #the priory of the orange tree #samantha shannon #fantasy #adult fiction #lgbt

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entertainment · 4 years

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Entertainment Spotlight: Genneya Walton, #blackAF

Genneya Walton came to acting through a passion for dance and performance. Once on screen, she starred as Bryden Bandweth on Project Mc², as well as taking on roles in The Resident, 911, Criminal Minds, School of Rock, and Extent. Up next, Genneya will be playing the role of Chloe Barris, daughter to Rashida Jones and Kenya Barris, in his new mockumentary #blackAF. Loosely inspired by Barris’ irreverent and honest approach to parenting, relationships, race, and culture, #blackAF uncovers the messy and often hilarious world of the fictionalized Barris family. We had the opportunity to chat to Genneya about her character on the show, experiences on set, and what it means to be a young woman of color in the world of film and television. Check it out:

You wake up tomorrow as the character you play. What do you do first?

If I were to wake up as Chloe, I would freak out first but I think that’s a given. Secondly, I’d go through her closet and try everything on because her style is incredible and I can only imagine what her full wardrobe looks like.

In #blackAF, you have a lot of siblings. Do you have a large family IRL? If so, were there any similarities to your rapport with your on-set family? If no, did the experience make you glad or sad you don’t?

In real life I only have one older sister -- far less than the 5 siblings I have on the show! My parents' style of raising kids is not at all the same as Kenya and Joya’s, so I can't say there are really any similarities between my real and tv family in that aspect. Although with both of them I am lucky to be able to share my honest thoughts and feelings with them even if it’s hard at times. Even though growing up I did want a baby brother, I wouldn’t want to change anything about how my family functions now, but it was definitely an experience to almost live another life in a household that’s run so differently.

Describe the premise of #blackAF to a five-year-old?

#blackAF is about a teenager that is filming her family’s everyday life to send in to her favorite college in hopes of getting in. With parents like ours and six kids, things can get crazy at our house. We act a little more “out there” than a typical family so I don’t think it would be appropriate for a five year old, but you can tell your parents to watch it ;)

What’s the first thing that you remember being a fan of?

The first thing I remember being a fan of is Barbie. It was one of my favorite toys growing up and the movies are actually what inspired me to perform. Second, I think it would be Usher’s Confessions album. I had no business singing his songs as a child, but those songs are certainly timeless!

Can you tell us about a funny experience you had on the set of #blackAF?

When you’re working with Kenya and Rashida something funny is bound to happen everyday. We had a moment of downtime on set and Kenya was showing off some dance moves and Rashida hopped in and it turned into an impromptu dance battle. All I’m gonna say is they both can do a mean robot. Certainly a sight to see and I’m happy to say I’ve witnessed it in my lifetime.

You began your career dancing before you moved on to acting. Has dancing taught you any valuable lessons for your acting career?

Dancing has certainly shaped who I am today and I’ve been able to apply those lessons to everyday life. I used to be the most sensitive person on the planet, and although I still have my moments, the tough love from teachers gave me a thicker skin that is necessary to have in this industry. Particularly from being a competitive dancer I learned the value of teamwork and trust. A scene is a collaboration, not a solo, and when you have a scene partner you have to put your full trust in that person in order to let go and be vulnerable. Also, in competition you can’t win them all, and that’s certainly the case with this industry, and I learned from a young age to come to terms with things not always going as planned and to push on and work harder. The long rehearsal hours and high expectations to perform well every time prepared me for work days on set that could sometimes be 14+ hours. All of the hard work that goes into finally performing a 2 minute dance piece is similar to the endless preparation before a new project only for the final cut to be x amount of minutes long and that’s all people get to see. After all it’s about the journey not the destination right? Being a dancer instilled a lot of important lessons within me and I owe my current position to dance aka my first love.

Without spoiling anything, did you have a favorite scene in the show that was fun to shoot?

While on vacation things got a little heated between Chloe and Drea and we really had the opportunity to take it there. Both Iman and I have sisters and were able to relate to our characters in that moment. We were both completely understanding of the situation and each other's emotions that it almost made it feel as though we were truly sharing that moment together as sisters. It was a special moment for myself and it definitely brought us closer. It was a very fun challenge and I’m so happy to have been able to share that with her and portray the ups and downs that siblings have.

How do you embody the mission of #BlackExcellence365 in your everyday work?

I think that black excellence is our drive and ability to go for, and accomplish the great things we do despite the boundaries that have been set in front of us. We have so much power within ourselves and such a great ability to impact lives. As a kid, I only had a handful of young women of color to look up to and I am grateful that they have paved the way for young actors like myself. I am now in the position to possibly be that for today’s young girls, and it is truly a dream and a huge responsibility that I am thrilled to take on. I hope to take part in roles that can positively impact and inspire young girls to be the best versions of themselves that they can be. Representation on screen is so important and the media has the ability to shape young minds. So far I've had the honor to play a past role of a teenage genius who is a master at coding and is not afraid to be herself or speak her mind. I now get to play a young adult who attends a great college and is setting up her future. Those characters within themselves are what I believe to be some great representations of black excellence and if they positively affect at least one person I am proud of that. I’d like it to be known that it took almost two years of being unemployed before I landed my current role. At times it was tough and I honestly had a fleeting moment where I considered giving up, but I kept pushing and would have never gotten to experience being Chloe if I didn’t hold faith in myself! As my career goes on, I intend on using my platform to be vocal about things that matter most to me and inspire and pave the way for those after me. This is all bigger than myself and each accomplishment and even failure on the way to success that we share is an embodiment of #blackexcellence.

Do you have any advice for young women of color who are looking to get into the acting business?

When wanting to accomplish anything in life it requires hard work, resilience, and genuine belief in yourself. You will get more no’s than yes’s, but you cannot let that discourage you. When you know you have something special to share with the world, you have to keep pushing on. I’d highly recommend surrounding yourself with people that are like minded so you can uplift and push each other towards your individual goals. An African Proverb that I think describes this well is, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” So finding a strong support system whether that be within your family or your friends, I personally find to be helpful during the journey. When things get tough it is easy to get lost or caught up in this all, but remember to stay grounded and true to yourself. There is no one else like you, and that alone holds so much power!

Thanks for taking the time Genneya! #blackAF is now streaming on Netflix.

#entertainment spotlight #blackexcellence365 #genneya walton #blackaf

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richincolor · 4 years

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Interview with Author Crystal Maldonado

The bloggers here at Rich in Color have been reading Fat Chance, Charlie Vega over the past month in preparation for our book discussion that will be posted tomorrow. We were so excited to also have an opportunity to hear directly from author Crystal Maldonado. It’s always a treat to be able to find out a little bit more about the writing journey of an author.

Crystal, thanks so much for taking time to answer a few questions today. Sharing a novel with others takes some bravery and often thick skin. What convinced you to actually send your book out into the world?

Becoming a published author had always been a dream of mine, but I wasn’t sure it would ever come to fruition. In 2018, I had just turned 30 and I was happily married, I was traveling, and I was really enjoying myself, yet the yearning to publish a book and use my voice for good was nagging at me. I just felt like I had all of these words and stories inside of me wanting to come out! At that time, I was sitting on the finished manuscript for “Fat Chance, Charlie Vega,” with no plans for next steps. I realized that I was giving up before I’d even tried for fear of failure. I asked myself what was worse: never trying and always wondering, or putting my story out there and possibly failing? At least in the latter situation, I would have given it my best effort. Giving myself permission to fail was the spark I needed to try to make this book real — and now I get to hold a story I wrote in my hands!

Charlie has more than a few moments of awkwardness throughout her story. As a reader I was feeling for her. How does it feel as an author when you are writing those types of scenes?

It feels awkward for me, too! I do my best to get back into the mindset of what it felt like when I was a teen by listening to music that I enjoyed when I was in high school. Doing that means I sometimes feel the same awkwardness my characters do. But it’s really nice to be able to experience those things again, and I hope it ultimately adds a feeling of authenticity to the stories I write.

What is it like to do that delicate dance between fiction and your own experiences as you plotted?

Putting your heart into any story can feel very vulnerable, but I think you need a little bit of that vulnerability on the page in order to make the book feel real. So, I like to use experiences from my life as inspiration or reference material, but then heavily fictionalize them and make them work in my character’s lives. While my experiences may start as the seed, getting imaginative and creating new characters, scenarios, and dialogue is really what makes the story bloom.

The cover of your book is lovely. What was it like to see her for the first time rendered by someone else?

Thank you! Seeing the cover for the first time was pure magic. I sat in stunned silence for a moment and I can remember the feeling of my heart pounding, just taking this gorgeous image in. I cried. It was powerful to see a fat, brown girl right there, on the cover, for the world to see. I imagined how meaningful this would’ve been for me as a teen, and I thought of every fat brown girl out there who doesn’t get to see herself enough, and it made my heart full. Ericka Lugo, the illustrator for this cover, truly captured everything about Charlie so perfectly in this image, and I loved that she also included some flowers behind her, as if Charlie herself was blossoming. I hope others love it, too!

What have been some of the surprising aspects of moving in the publishing world?

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how welcoming authors are! I was so nervous to get into publishing because I worried I’d always feel like an outsider looking in, but finding my debut group and then connecting with other incredible Latinx authors through Las Musas has been such a wonderful experience for me. I’m shy and introverted by nature, so much so that I didn’t tell anyone except for my husband that I was working on a book; it was a relief to get invited into these spaces with open arms and feel like I was able to easily connect with some truly inspirational authors. Now I consider many of the people I’ve met over the last year really great friends.

What books shaped you as a young person and are there any books out now that you would have appreciated then?

When I was really young, one of my favorite books was “Corduroy,” a sweet picture book about an overall-wearing teddy bear who is looking for a friend. I loved this story because it celebrated friendship and taught me early on that we should love ourselves exactly as we are! As a teen, I really loved “The House on Mango Street” by Sandra Cisneros, which I feel is such a beautiful and poignant novel. But I didn’t get to see many fat and/or brown main characters until I was well into adulthood. I would’ve loved to have read books like “Dumplin’” by Julie Murphy, “Love is a Revolution” by Renee Watson, or “Juliet Takes a Breath” by Gabby Rivera when I was a teenager!

If you could write anywhere, where would it be?

If it was just a vacation, I’d pick Greece, as it’s a place I’ve always wished to travel. I imagine writing somewhere in Mykonos and overlooking the water and creating my own version of “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” It sounds so dreamy! For a long-term place to write, I’d love to go to Puerto Rico and explore my dad’s hometown and reconnect with my family there. I would really love a chance to spend some time there with my husband and daughter.

Thanks so much! I loved reading your book this past weekend. It brought me many smiles. I also wear glasses so am always excited to see a main character wearing them. The cover is also just beautiful overall. 🙂

Thank you so much for asking such great questions! I’m so happy you enjoyed the book!

Crystal Maldonado is a young adult author with a lot of feelings. Her debut novel, FAT CHANCE, CHARLIE VEGA (Holiday House), was released on Feb. 2, 2021. By day, she is a social media manager working in higher ed, and by night, a writer who loves Beyoncé, shopping, spending too much time on her phone, and being extra. She lives in western Massachusetts with her husband, daughter, and dog. Follow her everywhere @crystalwrote or visit her website at crystalwrote.com.

#author interview #crystal maldonado #fat chance charlie vega

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

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Not Joyce or Monet

PART THIRTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussions of parent death/death in general, smoking, drinking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Jess publishes his second book and Ella receives a troubling call from Stars Hollow.

Flopping face-first down onto the bed, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It would have felt strange not to have a little champagne at Jess’s book launch party. But, she was a lightweight. She was floating somewhere between tipsy, buzzed, and drunk. At least she was still capable of slipping off her shoes before making her way to the bedroom. She’d even managed to change into pajamas, brush her teeth, and wash her face. A far cry from the screwdriver incident at Liz’s baby shower. A heavy winter snow fell outside the windows and a touch of cold air seeped into the draughty apartment. Goosebumps rose lightly on her skin. In her state, they felt nice instead of uncomfortable. She was already dozing when Jess came in, having taken a quick shower. His hair was still damp as he climbed into bed next to her, the movement shaking her from her haze.

“Did you like your party?” she murmured, watching as he shut off the lamp and rolled over to face her.

His face was aglow with the bluish light of the snowy Saturday evening. “Mhm.”

She snickered a bit at his nonchalance. “I know you hate parties, but Chris insisted it was the best way to drum up business. And you do like surprises, Mr. Spontaneity. Matthew and I made it as lowkey as we could.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Eleanor. Really,” he said, shrugging. “You’re remembering that you whispered lines from Catch-22 in my ear all night, right?”

“I figured you’d need some Joseph Heller to make it through,” she explained, slightly sheepish.

Jess smiled. “Of course. And watching Chris and Leo get so drunk they do their acapella version of ‘Under Pressure’ could never be bad.”

“Leo does do a damn good Freddie Mercury,” Ella agreed, chuckling. “I didn’t realize the publishing agents would all go blackout level, too.”

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve seen what Chris did for the Subsect launch. It was like that scene where E.T. gets drunk. But if there were fifty aliens in the movie instead of just one,” Jess said flatly, begrudgingly.

“You must be a little drunk if you’re letting a cheesy eighties movie slip. Or have I finally converted you?” she teased, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

Jess smirked. “Not yet. Chris made me try his Manhattans to see if they ‘tasted too much like gasoline.’”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they did,” Ella said.

“Someone give the lady a prize,” Jess shot back tiredly. “Good thing we walked there.”

“Yeah. And good thing I got to watch you catch a snowflake with your tongue on the way back.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cutie,” she said, forcing her laughter down. “I’ll be eating my words when you watch me fall on my ass while we’re ice-skating with April.”

She knew if he’d been entirely sober, he wouldn’t have gotten so caught up in his wonderment at the storm. But Ella had also seen him sticking out his tongue awaiting a snowflake in an old, yellowing photo album Liz had shown off during her baby shower. In it, Jess had been no more than three. Dressed in a raggedy winter jacket on some grimy corner of New York City. He and Liz were sticking their tongues out together. Seeing the photo had given Ella’s mouth a bittersweet taste. It was hard to imagine Jess ever feeling so relaxed around his mother. She saw the same rare awe from him on the walk home. Most of the time, he was so weighed down by the world he could barely come up for air. She thought she had never seen him look so young at heart before.

“Can’t wait,” Jess hummed, mocking. It was nearly time for April’s winter break, and Anna had somehow agreed to let her spend it with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory. Ella and Jess had opted to return to Stars Hollow for Christmas, after the bumps in the road on Thanksgiving. Two more days, and they’d be braving the icy roads on their way up to Connecticut. April had already called them to schedule a time for ice-skating. The proper, analytical way the little girl spoke never failed to amuse Ella.

“Me neither,” Ella quipped as her eyelids began to droop again. She could smell the minty scent of Jess’s shampoo.

As he watched her begin to drift off, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. From what Matthew had said, Ella had essentially been put in charge of the party when Chris’s trademark irresponsibility made an appearance. Matthew had jury duty and couldn’t assume his usual role of organizer in the wake of Chris’s chaotic decision-making. What she’d managed to throw together, though, was one of the better parties Jess had ever been to. The publishers they knew usually sent younger employees to the underground press launches, and Chris had ended up making friends with most of the usual suspects at the launch for Jess’s first book. Ella had made sure the guest list only included familiar faces. If they just had to throw him a surprise party, which Chris demanded (normally, she wouldn’t have listened, but if it was a matter of getting his book better exposure, she was willing to risk it), she’d try to make it as comfortable for him as possible. Or, at the very least, bearable.

And she’d just gotten done with finals two days earlier. He could see how tired she was. Her nerves over the possibility of seeing her father during the winter holidays hadn’t helped her sleeping recently either. Though Jess wasn’t sure how it would actually pan out, she claimed she wanted an attempt at apologizing for what she’d said at Adam’s graduation. She was sick of family nonsense, she said. Maybe if she levelled the playing field, they could begin to understand each other again. Ella herself wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked her desire to try again with her family, but suspected it might have been Thanksgiving. Jess, simply put, was someone she admired. Seeing him trying to mend his relationships (even though he didn’t have to, even though it was difficult), made her feel just a little more confident. Maybe not everything turned out bad, after all.

Shutting his own eyes, Jess slipped his hand beneath Ella’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her back. She smiled softly at his touch, feather-light. A pleasant shiver rolled through her.

“Thank you for the party,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, thanks for writing my new favorite book,” she answered instantly, sleepy and sincere. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

. . .

There were still a couple hours left until lunchtime when Ella slipped through the door at Truncheon, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to show up and work a little. Especially when she was on break from school and got antsy. Jess had debated giving her the easel he’d bought her for Christmas early, so she would have something new to focus on while he tied up the odds and ends at the book press. But, ultimately, he wanted to wait until the morning after they returned to Philadelphia. It would be far more surprising to wake up and find a Christmas present wrapped up in the living room on the morning of New Year’s Day than on the actual gift-giving holiday.

When he’d left for his last day of work prior to their trip to Connecticut, she’d still been half asleep. Her sketchbook was open on her bedside table, a pencil drawing of a child with hollow eyes having yet to be shaded. She’d been up late working on it the night before, on a roll. He hadn’t even shut the door to the apartment before she was out cold again. He’d been anxious to get back home, to pack and prepare for the trip. In his opinion, there was no use in only opening for a Monday and then closing for the holidays the rest of the week, but Matthew’s stickler spirit won out. Jess wasn’t going to be skipping around the store in merriment as the rest of the world took a vacation, but he also wasn’t moping around like Chris. He was in the midst of diffusing an argument between his two coworkers when Ella arrived.

He wanted to smile when he saw her, and almost did. But then he got a good look at her hazel eyes, and immediately he could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that she was sleepy, though she looked a bit haggard in with her peacoat tied around her haphazardly and her hair wild, dotted with the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Instead, she looked almost unreachable. His Eleanor who was always so present and vivid and alive, even in the midst of drudgery. And she wasn’t daydreaming, either. She wasn’t off in her own thoughts, thinking of Emily Dickinson or James Joyce or Claude Monet. No; she was simply not there. Not really.

“Hey, honey. You’re early,” he began as she approached him, where he stood in between Matthew and Chris. The two of them didn’t even notice she’d come in until Jess addressed her, still too caught up in their argument over where to place the new books of free-form poetry.

Swallowing harshly, Ella gave a weak smile and raked her fingers through her hair. She walked up to them, wringing her hands together. Jess didn’t need to see her hands to know she had already bitten her nails down to the quick. At the interruption, Chris gave a frustrated huff and turned to Ella.

“Ella, please tell Matthew it makes zero sense to put the free-form poetry anywhere near the sonnets! They should be on opposite ends of the store, as far as I’m concerned,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

Matthew rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenched. “I’m glad you’re here, Ella. Please tell Chris that we don’t only sell poetry, and free-form or not, it has no business anywhere near science fiction!”

Furrowing her brows, distracted, Ella shook her head. “Um...I don’t know...but I….”

“What?” Jess asked as she gestured slightly with her hands. Her face was pale, and she almost seemed confused, at a loss for words. It didn’t happen to her often, to say the least.

Blowing out a breath, she tried again, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment...I just got a call from my brother. My dad’s dead.”

Jess’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ella said, nodding. As she continued, she took a hair elastic from her wrist and began pulling her locks into a ponytail. “Adam said he was in a car accident this morning. Driving home from some bar in Maryland. If I had to guess, he was still a little drunk from last night. No one else got hurt, which is good. He hit a patch of black ice, and he was going too fast, and I guess he just went right off the road. Into a tree. And he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

Her speech became more urgent with every word, as they heard it sink in for her in real time. But she was never frantic, only determined and stern. The spacey fog was fading from her demeanor, though it remained in her eyes. Only in her eyes. She didn’t give them time to respond, just kept thinking out loud.

“Noah’s already on a plane from Oregon, but I don’t think he’s gonna be any help. And Adam said Fiona’s freaking out, so I’m almost definitely going to have to make the arrangements. I know you guys have work and stuff, but we need to pack up and get there before the rest of the family does, or everything will probably just explode on principle. Fuck! This is just like him. To die a week before Christmas!”

“Whoa, hey, Eleanor, just slow down for a second, okay?” Jess began, taking a hesitant step towards her and grabbing her hand. He squeezed once, hard, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

“Jesus, Ella-” Chris began.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said.

Ella shook her head, her face stoic. “Don’t, okay? Don’t be sorry. No one needs to be sorry. He was a fucking drunk, and it finally caught up with him. I just need to get back to Stars Hollow to take care of this, and then maybe Christmas won’t be completely ruined. Sound good?”

“Elle, just hold on. You should sit down and-” Jess said, but she cut him off.

“No, Jess. Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and then it’ll be done,” she said, her hand never leaving his though she didn’t squeeze back. Her tone was tight, clipped, but she didn’t sound angry. He recognized it from the night on the bridge when she’d told him about the days following her mother’s death. The way she held it all together, and blocked it all out. Numb and headstrong.

“Do you want us to come with?” Matthew asked, watching with uncertainty as Ella began to tug Jess towards the door, grabbing his bag for him and handing him his coat.

“What? Of course not,” Ella said, insistent, as though it were obvious. “All I need to do is steal Jess for a few days. You need to do whatever it is you’re gonna do with Mabel. And Chris needs to do whatever it is he’s gonna do with Leo, and you need to tell me about it when we get back. I can pretty much guarantee your stories will be more fun than mine.”

“Are you sure?” Chris chimed in, brow heavy with worry. Her iciness surprised him. He had never heard someone react to a parent’s death quite so flippantly before.

“Yes. Jesus, Chris, keep up,” she replied, in a way which would have spurred a playful argument on a normal day. Again, her nonchalance unnerved all three of them.

Jess interlocked their fingers again instantly once he had his bag and his coat, almost heading out the door already. She was moving too fast for him to process much of anything, only reacting. He hadn’t seen her in such a frenzy in a very long time. “Eleanor, wait. Stop.”

“I can’t stop, Jess. I told you, we’ve gotta get there before my uncle has time to hit on Fiona and before Noah has time to piss off Adam. It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pulled him out the front door instead. As they went, she shouted over her shoulder to Matthew and Chris: “Happy holidays! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then, she and Jess were gone. Chris and Matthew exchanged concerned, flabbergasted glances.

. . .

Flashback was the word that came to the forefront of her mind, as she stared up at the ceiling in the Gilmore living room. Luke and Lorelai were trying, and she appreciated it. They could both tell she didn’t want to talk about it, only wanted a bit of normalcy after the long day. And they’d obliged. After all, they’d had practice. Lorelai knew exactly what to do. She’d had Luke bring dinner home from the diner: turkey sandwiches and sodas. She’d suggested they watch a movie after dinner, something campy horror. Finally, they had settled on The Lost Boys. Ella knew how much Jess hated the movie, especially Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet, but he never complained once. A large part of her wished he would. She wanted it to be the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to have Christmas in Stars Hollow with the people who felt more like her family than her father did. Adam celebrating with one of his school friends in Boston, Fiona with her sister, Noah with his finacée in Oregon. But, of course, things never went as planned. Not in Ella’s experience at least.

At some point during the movie, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. No matter how much she wanted to stay awake until the end, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Dealing with Fiona’s blubbering and Adam’s silence and Noah’s anger had pretty well exhausted her. Not to mention the business setting up the funeral at the church. She’d spent nearly two hours with the pastor, but the service was only halfway planned. She wished Aunt Julie could arrive sooner, but the girls were in school until Tuesday. Erin had some big recital she was pitching a fit about missing. Ella couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be. No, they would arrive on Wednesday morning. Two hours before the funeral, set for noon. At some point before then, Ella would have to sort out the flower arrangements and the music and the programs. At least Luke was providing the food. She assumed he would before he even offered. And she would have to write the eulogy. But she wasn’t even thinking about it yet. Every time the idea of writing it entered her mind, she would start humming a Stevie Nicks song and pointedly ignore it.

It was all too familiar. The planning, the writing, the consoling. Since they’d arrived in Stars Hollow that afternoon, it had been a non stop barrage of tasks and tears. None of it was surprising. And it almost made her want to laugh. The minute she heard that her mother was dead, she had burst out laughing, a nervous reaction she couldn’t control. Granted, the laughter came from deep inside her, and probably resembled a pained shriek more than an actual giggle. But it was laughter nonetheless, and her father had recognized it as such. He’d yelled at her until his voice became hoarse. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. He was the dead one now, after all. But still, she didn’t let the anxious laughter escape. She didn’t let anything escape. After the punishment she’d received for letting go last time, she knew not to do it again. No one was there to smack her, to scream, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget how it had felt. Like she couldn’t even grieve right. And the best way to grieve became to not grieve at all.

She laid with one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, analyzing the popcorn ceiling. She’d awoken with the room dim and the TV shut off. A quilt which she hadn’t fallen asleep under was draped over her, and there were hushed whispers in the direction of the kitchen. She hadn’t planned to wake up until morning, but she hadn’t planned to fall asleep there either. They were supposed to be sleeping in the apartment above the diner for the vacation, while Rory and April took the spare beds in the Gilmore house. But neither girl had yet to arrive, and Lorelai insisted Ella and Jess stay over after dinner. It was no use driving over in the snow, even if Luke’s was only about a minute away. Ella couldn’t believe how similar it all was to before. Sleeping alone on the Gilmore couch as others worried over her a few feet away.

She listened, in spite of herself. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop when she’d already heard her name so many times. Luke was concerned about her forgetting to eat. Lorelai was concerned about her shutting everyone out and being overwhelmed by the funeral preparations. And both of them were concerned about her coming to blows with Fiona at some point in the next few days.

Sighing, Ella ran her tongue over her teeth and remembered she hadn’t brushed them. She debated not doing so, but decided to just bite the bullet. With everything else on her mind, she thought it best to eliminate all the outward elements which might impede her from getting back to sleep. She rolled over on her side, preparing to sit up, when she saw Jess. She thought he’d be in the kitchen, talking with Luke and Lorelai. Instead, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. His head was near hers, leaned back. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring. She doubted he was fully asleep, but nonetheless attempted to get past him and rummage through the bag on the armchair to find her toothbrush. Her stealth proved lacking, however, when he began to stir as soon as she reached the bag.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and doing his best to seem lively. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, fishing her toothbrush out from the sea of clothes she’d thrown into the duffel before they sped away from the apartment in Philadelphia. “I just forgot to brush my teeth.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and hoisting himself up. His neck was already sore from the position he’d dozed off in, unwilling to follow Luke and Lorelai into the kitchen with Ella asleep on the couch. “Me too. I’ll come with.”

She nodded back, grabbing his toothbrush as well. The whispers didn’t cease until they made their way into the kitchen, Luke and Lorelai looking up at their entrance. Ella debated using the upstairs bathroom, not disturbing the two of them. But she didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs, and it would be the first time she could get a good look at the new half-bathroom they added next to Rory’s room. The smell of the diner food lingered, and it made Ella’s chest feel just a touch less tight. Lorelai broke out into a small smile at the sight of the two of them.

“You need anything, sweetie?” she asked, speaking only to Ella.

Though she felt a bit uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze, Ella smiled back. There was a warmth in her stomach at Lorelai’s voice. She focused on that feeling, and only that feeling. “No, we’re fine. Just brushing our teeth. The dentist would be pissed at me if I broke the pattern after over twenty years.”

“That’s true. Always best to avoid the Sweeney Todd dentistry possibility,” Lorelai agreed, nodding. Then, she yawned theatrically and looked at Luke, who only rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “I think we’re gonna head upstairs. It’s past our bedtime.”

“Still got those four o’clock deliveries, huh?” Jess asked sullenly, eyeing Luke. Many a morning when he was a teenager, he’d been awoken at half past three by the sound of Luke’s alarm.

Luke sighed. “For the business that housed and fed you for two years? Yeah, I do.”

Ella snorted a laugh, and nudged Jess playfully in the ribs. “Like you’re not always up before the sun, even on Saturday.”

“Where do you think that started?” Jess shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke. “He screwed with my internal clock for life!”

“I think that’s enough fuel for future therapy sessions for tonight,” Lorelai announced, rising from the table, Luke following.

“Agreed,” Luke grumbled.

As they exchanged goodnights, Lorelai gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. Immediately after, she scrunched up her nose and smudged the lipstick from Ella’s freckled skin with her thumb. To Ella’s shock, Lorelai also gave Jess a short hug before making for the stairs. Luke hugged Jess, too. The two of them still had trouble showing physical affection for each other, as they probably always would. Ella had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness between them.

When Luke hugged Ella, though, she felt tears prick at her eyes for the first time all day. She recognized his familiar smell, the soft feeling of his flannel, his strong arms around her. Somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that the way it felt for Luke to hug her was what she had always wanted it to feel like when her own father hugged her. And she knew for sure she would never get it from him. She could finally be certain there was nothing left to do to repair her relationship with him. There was no time left for Jake to make her feel as safe as Luke made her feel. As he never had, even in her childhood. But by the time she and Luke broke apart, she had gathered herself enough. She cleared her throat and blinked away the glassy sheen in her eyes.

Luke ruffled her hair as he stepped back from her. If he saw that she was upset, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.”

“I know, boss,” she replied.

. . .

The cigarette smoke made her a bit nauseous, but it was also comforting in a way she was slightly ashamed of. The winter air was crisp and biting, and her cheeks were frosted roses. Embers glowed orange in the darkness as she took a long drag, burning her lungs. She was already regretting it, but she simply felt too tired to think out the actual consequences of what she was doing. She had tried. She really had. But falling asleep, with Jess snoring softly beneath her as they lay on the couch, was absolutely impossible. Fatigue was weighing down her bones, and there was a perpetual ache throbbing behind her eyes. But each time she got close to sleep, the thought of her father would flash across her mind, and she would be wide awake once more.

Once she gave up, she had managed to sneak outside unnoticed. The wind whispered past her, hollow and haunting. But maybe everything was feeling spookier because death was at the forefront of her mind. Then again, when wasn’t it? Though the shock had certainly hit her with full force when she heard the news, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. The other shoe had dropped. She knew it would, just when she let her guard down. The moment she forgot to worry, the universe had knocked her down again. She flicked her cigarette and watched the excess ash melt a small spot in the snow below the steps.

At the sound of the front door creaking open, she startled only a little. For a wild moment, she wanted to put her cigarette out and hide it behind her back, pretending to be innocent. Especially if it was Luke. But she had to remember she was a grown up. And the feeling disappeared entirely when she saw only a disheveled Jess wrapping himself up in his jacket as he came out onto the porch and sat down next to her.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he remarked, holding her peacoat out to her.

She took it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly, breathing out a long stream of smoke as she spoke. The coat was old and cheap, and did little to help a Connecticut winter, but she shrugged it on anyway.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t mention it.”

They sat in silence, an owl hooting somewhere in the trees beyond the house. Ella didn’t put the cigarette out until it got so small it began to burn her fingers. After she’d discarded it, her breath still puffed out, along with Jess’s, in frigid white clouds. Flurries of snow fell in scattered sprays, but the night was mostly quiet and overcast. Jess crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She spoke, as he knew she eventually would, after a few more minutes. Gesturing down to the crushed cigarette, her tired eyes met his. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “Where’d you get those in the middle of the night in Stars Hollow, anyway?”

A thin smirk ghosted over her lips. “Snatched ‘em off Bootsy’s newsstand.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing slightly, with eyebrows raised.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Mariano. I was sneaking out of my bedroom window long before you got here.”

“Touché.” His eyes lingered on her, hair glistening golden in the soft light and eyes still far off somewhere miles away. He hesitated before he continued. “Did you walk all the way to Bootsy’s without a coat?”

She shrugged, glancing down at the Doc Martens on her feet. “I’m fine. I had my good shoes on. Besides, it’s only like a minute away.”

“Alright.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’m fine,” she snapped after a moment.

“Okay. I get it,” he said instantly. “You’re fine. You’re not cold.”

Ella ran her hands through her hair. Her body shook as she yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Jess! Stop trying to take care of me! Stop asking me questions! Just let me fucking sit here!” Ella exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

Jess recoiled slightly, and he nodded at her again. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed down the million other questions which were rising in his throat. The ones she’d refused to ask on the drive up, and the ones she apparently still wanted to avoid. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to. We could watch one of Lorelai’s cassettes in there,” Jess suggested, fighting hard to keep his tone light, bracing for whatever reaction she was going to have.

“I love that she still has cassettes,” Ella said wistfully, though not smiling. Her voice was low and raspy as she stared out ahead of her into the darkness and the lightly falling snow.

He nodded a little. “I know you do.”

Ella’s hands were itching to hold another cigarette, but she fought the urge. The pack which sat on the porch steps next to her would almost certainly be crumpled up and thrown in the trash the moment she reentered the house. Along with the lighter. But it was nice to have them there. If she wanted. They sat wordlessly, listening to the rustle of the wind in the evergreen trees. Jess didn’t make a sound. He was just far away enough not to touch her, almost in silent askance of whether she wanted space. She did. And she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to talk almost as much as she didn’t want to write the eulogy. She wanted to be able to push down the sorrow and the rage until they just dissolved and she was as happy as she had been just a day earlier. Yesterday, she may have even been hopeful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt hopeful about her family. But, now, she had to stop herself from reaching for a cigarette yet again. And she felt herself wanting a drink. A drink stronger than champagne at a book launch. And then the words started flowing before she could overthink them, before she could lock them away in her heart forever.

She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap at her nail-bitten hands. “This is just like it was the last time.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, shifting a bit closer to her.

“Yeah,” she echoed, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear. She sniffed. “I mean, last time my dad was the devastated one instead of Fiona. But Adam still got pissed at Noah, and Noah only got more pissed because Adam was mad at him.”

Noah had only made it to town an hour before Ella left to go back to the Gilmore residence for the night, but he and Adam were at each other’s throats pretty much as soon as they saw each other. Upset that his Christmas vacation was being disrupted, Noah had insisted on staying at a motel instead of at the little blue house in which they had grown up. Adam wasn’t happy about it, accusing Noah of acting as though he was too good for them. In turn, Noah asked Adam why he wasn’t mad at Ella for staying with Lorelai. Adam had shot back immediately, saying Noah had abandoned the entire family the minute he could, while Ella stayed behind. At that point, Ella knew there was no way to diffuse the situation. She’d only offered to walk back with Noah to the motel, leaving Adam to sleep in his old room. Luckily, Fiona’s sister was already in town for the holiday. So, it didn’t wholly fall to any of the three of them to console her.

Jess and Luke had both offered to go over to the house with her after helping with the arrangements, but she’d insisted on meeting her brothers there alone. The surreality of the moment didn’t dawn on her until she saw Adam’s teary eyes and Noah’s flushed face. It was like she had stepped into the past. She’d come back to the Gilmore house to find Jess sitting in the living room, halfway through the Russian novel he’d brought with. In the face of his questions, she’d only given him the liner notes and then fallen mostly silent for the rest of the evening.

“And Lorelai and Luke won’t let me brush my teeth without asking me if I need anything,” Ella continued, with a scoff in her words. “And, I love them. I do. And I’m so fucking grateful that it hurts. But, I’m fine. I’m totally fucking fine.”

“So I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” he said.

She laughed breathily, lifting her head to look up at the sky. “Shut up.”

“Will do.”

Then, after a moment: “I just wish...I wish it wasn’t like this. I mean, he was a shitty dad. But he was still my dad.”

He watched as she chose her words, carefully. Her voice had more emotion than he’d heard all day. Bringing his arm around her shoulders, he hoped to lessen the trembling of her hands just a little. She leaned into him, letting herself feel his warmth but fighting the wateriness in her voice. Of all the things she didn’t want to do, crying was at the top of the list.

“And now...I don’t have parents. I don’t even have a dad who hates me and never calls,” she continued.

“He didn’t hate you,” Jess interjected.

She shook her head. “Yeah, he did, Jess. He fucking hated me. Because I looked like my mom and I didn’t like Fiona and I wouldn’t quit talking back at the dinner table. But it doesn’t bother me. I hated him most of the time, too.”

He hummed in response, listening.

Her face crumpled for only a moment. But, again, she regained her composure. A couple silent tears threatened to slip over. “But at least I had someone to hate, y’know? Now, it’s just...no one.”

She took in a shaky breath, and Jess began to rub circles over her back. He recognized that her shivering was no longer due to the cold but from the sobs she wouldn’t let loose. Ella’s stomach did a flip, as she clenched her hands into fists. But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let a single wimper pass her lips. And then, the levee broke. She put her head in her hands and finally began to weep, cries from deep within her escaping at last.

“I just...I don’t have p-parents anymore,” she spoke through sobs, trying to get her voice under control but failing miserably. “I’m not anyone’s daughter anymore. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

Jess shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a crack in his heart as he heard her anguish. But a part of him was relieved she was finally letting it out. He knew not all of her tears were for her father, but for her mother as well. He’d never seen her cry so hard before, so hard she couldn’t catch her breath and she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped being able to talk after a while, only crying, folding in on herself.

“I...I don’t...belong to anyone anymore,” she repeated.

Gnawing on his bottom lip again, Jess smoothed an affectionate hand over her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Though he couldn’t see her face, Ella felt her cheeks heat up at his seeing her sob so openly. Jess spoke in a clear, strong tone.

“Listen, Eleanor, I know it feels like you’re alone without them, but that’s not true, okay?” he said.

She let out a tearful scoff.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m serious,” Jess continued, placing a hand on her damp cheek and turning her face gently so she would look at him.

She wanted to avoid his eyes, embarrassed, but simply couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. The sight of him almost made her physically relax.

An earnest crease stood out between his eyebrows when he spoke again. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

She stared at him for a moment, stunned at his words, as tears kept rolling steadily down her cheeks. But then, her lip began to quiver and she closed her eyes. Jess was worried she was about to get angry again. But instead, she slumped weakly against him. He could feel her tears begin to wet the neckline of his t-shirt as she rested her head on his chest. Breathing out long and slow, Jess wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know whether his words had helped, but he was doubtful. No amount of talking was going to make her feel any better. He couldn’t crack a joke or start a playful argument or do a magic trick. He could only be there. He simply sat and held her against the wind.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls oc #jess mariano #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano oc fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano x original character #oc fanfiction #luke danes #lorelai gilmore

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unicornery · 4 years

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For my own amusement, I started tracking how the songs from the Billboard Hot 100 from this week in 1974 have been used in movie soundtracks. Feature Films only people! As you read, you will see the “gimmes” that made me think of the idea, but I’m putting this behind a cut because there ended up being so many which had a soundtrack match. As a reminder, you can follow along as I do the Hot 100 each week corresponding to which classic AT40 and VJ Big 40 get played on SiriusXM ‘70s on 7 and ‘80s on 8 respectively with my ever-changing Spotify playlist.

100. “Beyond the Blue Horizon” - Lou Christie. This one is a cheat because when I looked it up on Spotify it showed up on the Rain Man soundtrack. The only song I could have told you off the top of my head was in Rain Main is the Belle Stars’ version of “Iko Iko.” Rain Man marked the first soundtrack appearance for Christie’s version.

98. “The Air That I Breathe” - The Hollies. Very memorable appearance in The Virgin Suicides, which had the score done by, wait for it, French electronica duo Air. The song would go on to be heard in other movies.

90. “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” - Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods. The Paper Lace version appears in The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Both acts topped the charts with the song on opposite sides of the pond: Paper Lace in the UK and Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods in the US. [Update: the BD&H version may be in "To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday"]

87. “Hollywood Swinging” - Kool & the Gang. This oft-sampled track first appeared in a feature film in the 2005 Get Shorty sequel Be Cool.

84. “La Grange” - ZZ Top. Armageddon first, followed by others.

68. “Band on the Run” - Paul McCartney and Wings. I didn’t search for this at first because I didn’t think there would be anything, but then Jet was on the chart at #27, so I did a twofer search on imdb. Jet has not been in any films (save “One Hand Clapping, a rockumentary on Paul, which I don’t count for purposes of this discussion) but “Band on the Run” appears in The Killing Fields, in a shocking scene that contrasts the light tone of the pop song with the horrors of the Khmer Rouge’s executions of Cambodian citizens.

66. “For the Love of Money” - The O’Jays. Has been used many times, according to IMDb the first feature film use was the Richard Pryor roman a clef (if I’m using that right, I only know it from Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man) Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling.

59. “Rock Around the Clock” - Bill Haley and his Comets. Notably used in Blackboard Jungle, the song is on this 1974 chart for its appearance in American Graffiti.

55. “Rock and Roll, Hoochie Koo” - Rick Derringer. First one that comes to mind is Dazed and Confused bc I had that soundtrack, but it has been in others.

49. “Love’s Theme” - the Love Unlimited Orchestra. The swirling strings of this song indicate that someone is indeed falling in love. That’s my way of saying, if you think you haven’t heard this, you have. Imdb has it in Mean Girls, among others.

47. “The Way We Were” - Barbra Streisand. The titular song of the 1973 film The Way We Were, starring Barbra and Robert Redford. A little long, but worth a watch bc Barbra is amazing in it. At the 1974 Academy Awards, Marvin Hamslich won Best Original Song honors for this tune, and was awarded Best Original Dramatic Score for his other musical work on the film. I always think of Lisa Loopner’s big crush on him.

44. “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” - Stevie Wonder. First feature film usage was the 1998 Eddie Murphy flop Holy Man, which surprised me as it’s such a good song, you’d think it would have been in something earlier. Notable given Eddie’s impression of Stevie Wonder he performed on SNL!

42. “Rock On” - David Essex. Michael Damian’s cover (or remix as described by Patton Oswalt) was recorded for the 1989 2 Coreys classic Dream a Little Dream, and per imdb, David Essex’s original appears in the alternate-history comedy Dick, from 1999.

37. “Oh Very Young” - Cat Stevens/Yusef Islam. Surprisingly, this sweet song appears in the gross-out bowling comedy Kingpin.

36. “Jungle Boogie” - Kool & the Gang. This song may have been used in the most films and tv shows of any I’ve researched so far, but its first appearance was in Pulp Fiction.

34. “The Payback - Part 1” - James Brown. First feature film appearance was in 1995′s Dead Presidents. A different James Brown track appears on the soundtrack for racist-ass Melly Gibson’s Payback from 1999.

33. “Help Me” - Joni Mitchell. Another why’d-it-take-ya-so-long shocker, this mellow tune first appeared in the 2018 sci-fi movie Kin, narrowly beating Welcome to Marwen from 2019.

31. “The Entertainer” - Marvin Hamlisch. The title theme from the Redford/Newman team-up The Sting. Hamlisch won a record-tying third Academy Award in 1974 for Best Original Score for The Sting. It seems at this time Best Original Score and Best Original Dramatic Score were separate categories. Hamlisch would win Grammys for both this and “The Way We Were,” eventually becoming an EGOT winner in 1995.

30. “Eres Tú” - Mocedades. This Spanish Eurovision entry notably appears in the buddy comedy Tommy Boy when Chris Farley and David Spade’s characters sing along with the radio.

28. “Midnight at the Oasis” - Maria Muldaur. Catherine O’Hara and Fred Willard perform their own rendition in the Christopher Guest film Waiting for Guffman. That should be all you need, but imdb has the first film appearance for the song as 1995′s Falcon and the Snowman.

24. “Let it Ride” - Bachman-Turner Overdrive. This lesser-known but not less great BTO jam has appeared in a handful of films, the first being Ash Wednesday, starring Elijah Wood and directed by Edward Burns and not Garry Marshall. Note: it does not seem to be in the Richard Dreyfuss gambling movie Let It Ride, a classic VHS cover of my youth.

18. “Mockingbird” - James Taylor and Carly Simon. Memorably performed by Harry and Lloyd in the dog van in Dumb and Dumber, later joined by a Latinx family on guitar and vocals. Before that, Beverly D’Angelo and Chevy Chase’s characters also sang it on their road trip in National Lampoon’s Vacation. I couldn’t find an instance where James and Carly’s version played in a movie but I am sayin’ there’s a chance. That it could be someday.

16. “Tubular Bells” - Mike Oldfield. This instrumental is best known for being the theme to The Exorcist, but I was surprised to learn from the Wiki entry that it was not written for the film. Tubular Bells or something that’s meant to sound like it has been in a ton of other things, generally uncredited. Of note: Mike Oldfield would go on to do the score for The Killing Fields.

14. “Seasons in the Sun” - Terry Jacks. Now here is the type of song that ‘70s haters point to as an example of the whiny wuss rock that they feel over-dominated the era. It’s not one of my favorites but I appreciate it for how weird it is. I suppose being translated into English from a French/Belgian poem will do that to ya. Before I did my search, I imagined I would find it in a Farrelly Brothers movie or two, possibly the Anchorman sequel. However, the only feature film match I found was the 2002 indie flick Cherish, a movie I have never seen despite being confronted by the cover many times at rental places over the years. Before today, when I watched the trailer, I would have told you it starred Jennifer Love Hewitt and was about “a band trying to make it.” It turns out I am thinking of the 1999 film The Suburbans. Anyway Cherish seems aggressively indie and very of-its-time in a way that makes me want to watch it.

13. “Dancing Machine” - The Jackson 5. The song appears in the Blaxploitation spoof I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, as well as the movie of Starsky & Hutch.

11. “Lookin’ For A Love” - Bobby Womack. This was in the movie of The Ladies Man starring Tim Meadows as his SNL character Leon Phelps. I almost skipped this one but I’m glad I didn’t because Tim Meadows rules.

8. “The Loco-Motion” - Grand Funk Railroad (the single and album it was on are credited to Grand Funk). We have our second song from the Kirsten Dunst/Michelle Williams movie Dick. Since that was satirizing Nixon and Watergate, well done to the filmmakers for including these 1974 hits! It appeared in one earlier film, My Girl 2.

5. “Come and Get Your Love” - Redbone. Known to modern listeners for appearing in Guardians of the Galaxy. [Sidebar: if you can find a way to listen to the With Special Guest Lauren Lapkus episode T.G.I.G.O.T.G.OST (Thank God It’s the Guardians of the Galaxy Original Soundtrack) with Sean Clements and Hayes Davenport, do it!] The song first appeared in Dance Me Outside, a Canadian film about First Nations youth, which is a cool parallel with Redbone being composed of Native American musicians. “Come and Get Your Love” is also in Dick!

4. “Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me” - Gladys Knight & the Pips. Another SNL feature pops up on our list, 1994′s It’s Pat: The Movie.

3. “Hooked on a Feeling” - Blue Swede. ALSO known to modern listeners as being from the GOTG, but possibly only in the trailer? I’m fuzzy. The song ALSO also appears in Dick, and its first feature film appearance was Reservoir Dogs.

2. “Bennie and the Jets” - Elton John. You know it, you love it, you cackle at the gag in Mystery Team. IMDb has this song down as first appearing in the low budget feature Aloha, Bobby and Rose, from 1975. It is ALSO in My Girl 2, with proper credit for Sir Elton.

1. “TSOP (The Sound of Philadelphia)” - MFSB featuring The Three Degrees. IMDb says this appeared in the Al Pacino film Carlito’s Way, and I have no reason to doubt them because it means we are done! Thanks for readin’ and rockin’ along.

#AT40 #1970s music #movie soundtrack #Billboard hot 100

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crazyfreckledginger · 6 years

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Q&A

Thank you to those who have asked questions, y’all are awesome!! It also means the world to me that we got this far! 80k you guys oh my god! You guys brighten my day I love and appreciate every single one of you!

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Everywhere! I want to visit every

Which Robin is your personal favorite?

Oh no you didn’t! 😂 I can’t really choose, but I know my least favourite is Tim! (Sorry timmy!) But Dick, Jay and Dami are my boys!

Do you like to read? And if so, do you have a favorite book or series? / favorite book?

I like to read fanfiction, does that count? 😂 But as books, I love ‘Finding Audrey’ by Sophie Kinsella and ‘Everything, Everything’ by Nicola Yoon

What got you into the batboys?/ How did you develop interest in the batfamily?

I have absolutely no idea! Oh, no, actually, I think I saw an imagine on Tumblr a year ago and just started reading fanfiction about it!

Outside the Batfamily, who is your favorite superhero (or superheroes)?

Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Peter Parker Laura Kinney and Logan Howlett!

do you considere the robin's similar to peter Parker??

Yes, especially Tim!

How to you get inspiration for your one-shots?/ What inspired you to start writing? / What made you want to start writing? What do you do to get inspiration in writing?/ What is your motivation or drive?

Before I started requests, I just had an accumulation of random stories in my head and had to write them out, now, most things. Sometimes it’s because of dreams, movie I watch with interesting scenes or plot twists, books or general ideas that just pop into my head, sometimes it’s also ‘what if’ type questions, if that makes sense.

If your favorite batboy died, how would you feel?

TeRiRbIE, probably mourning for the rest of my life lol.

Young justice season 3?

HELL YEAH DICK IS HAWT AF OMG

What's your favourite food?/ Favorite Food,

Indian and Mexican food for life!

What do you like the most about your fave batboy?

EVERYTHING, MY BOYS ARE PRECIOUS

Do you think the rumor about Damian being Jason's son is true?

I didn’t hear about this before but nope, I mean how even?? 😂 Like, in most universes, the age gap between the two is between 10 to 14 years, how- I don’t- no, and besides, they come from a completely different background and I don’t know where this is from but it’s always going to be a no in my heart!

Can you relate to any of the batboys?

All of them! I’ll generalise a lot because this might turn into an essay otherwise lmao.

Damian for his love of animals and hating people in general. Tim for the lack of sleep. Jason is me tbh. Dick loves puns and jokes as much as I do.

Are Bruce and your father alike?

Kind of?

What's your favourite T.V show?

Sons Of Anarchy, Friends, The Vampire Diaries and Good Girls

Are you looking forward to Titans on October 18th?

I have mixed feelings about it, I’m happy they are making a live action Dick and Jason but it looks really bad, I’m still going to keep an open mind though!

Jason and Artemis or Kori and Dick?

Kori and Dick, I don’t seen Jason and Artemis’ relationship as more than friends, I don’t know what happened in RHATO, which is funny how I keep talking about the comics since I magically have never read any of them???

Thoughts on Redhood's transformation In Redhood the Outlaw?

I want my Jaybird hair back. I’m oKaY with the new design but I adore the old design!

Cookies: Alfred or M'gann?

Alfred’s (that was a tough one though!)

Is Brenton Thwaites good enough to be Robin in the upcoming series?

I don’t know! I’ve never really had a good face claim for Dick so I’m going to keep an open mind about it. He’d better had a nice bubble butt though!

Jason's gun or Dick's eskrimas?

Ughh this is haaard! Maybe Dick’s eskrima sticks.

Talia or Selena?

Selena

Poison ivy or Harley Quinn?

Harley Quinn

If you were in DC universe and you will be able to make a crossover it will be with?: Marvel, Transformers, Supernatural

Marvel or Transformers!!

Do you like birdflash?

I only see them as bros but I respect people’s choice of shipping them together!

Besides Batman what other fandoms are you into ?

Marvel, Sons Of Anarchy, Transformers, Stranger Things, Good Girls, From Dusk Till Dawn, The Vampire Diaries and loads more!

What’s your most liked story on wattpad

This one lmao (batboys x reader)

Do you like voltron if so who’s your favorite paladin

I don’t watch Voltron, sorry, the fandom is insane and scary on Tumblr (without wanting to generalise) . I’ve tried watching an episode but I just can’t seem to get into it!

Will you take request in the future Not that I’m asking for one I’m just curious I love your writing style

Aw thanks! 🙈 That’s so sweet of you. And yes of course!! I just closed them because I didn’t know when I would be able to have a reliable amount of time to write, I’m opening them soon hopefully! :)

Favorite movie of all time/ What's your favorite movie and why?

Logan, the FeElS, plus my girl Laura plus my man Donald Pierce is in it.

The Dark Knight (the one with Bane and The Joker) both villains are extremely intimidating and Nolan was able to portray them in an extremely terrifying way whilst keeping us on edge for the whole movies! True masterpieces.

Also Tomb Raider because kick some ass queen omg.

favorite character characters

DONALD PIERCE, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Laura Kinney, Dick Grayson, Wally West, Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne among so so many others.

favorite (video) game,

Outlast and Until Dawn!

Do you have/wish to have any pets?

Yes I have had a bunch! Three rabbits, a sheep and a goat! I wish I’d have a cat though!

How would you describe your clothing style?

Comfortable and tries to be at least a little stylish lol

Any artists/celebs You look up to?

Not really no, I’ve never really looked up to anyone.

What kind of music do you like?

Pop, Classical not the Mozart type of classical.

Do You have any "rituals" regarding your writing process?

Yes! If it’s a series, I write the whole plot down on a book with details and elements that I want included. I keep it besie me to be sure I follow the plot whislt writing it.

Since I write in the evening, if there’s a one shot request that I lack inspiration about, I write something else and think of a plot when I’m in bed before i go to sleep. It really helps be get the requests written and in the queue.

I normally sit in front of my TV, catching up on my series or something and just write. I don’t really have a ritual other than this!

Favourite cartoon?

Young Justice ayyye!

If you were to choose your own name, what would it be?

I’ve never really thought about it, I don’t know, I like my name!

But I really like Kia or *gasp* Sam. Not Samantha but just Sam.

Favourite mythical creature?

Griffin, phenix and dragons!

What language do you wish to speak?

Italian and Spanish!

Any lucky items/superstisions?

A tiger’s eye necklace my cousin gave me three years ago, I wear it everyday! If you could be any animal, real or mythical, what would you be?

A tiger, an eagle or a griffin. I can’t choose lol!

Do you think you'd survive in a post apocalyptic world?

Maybe? I mean I feel like I would be smart enough but I saw World War Z and dying is better than surviving with traumatic experiences running through your head 24/7!

Where would you go for a dream vacation?

Everywhere! I want to visit the world!

If a genie granted you 3 wishes, what would you wish for? (No wishing for more wishes lol)

DANG IT!

1. That everyone should have a different perspective so that they can realise how bad the world is becoming and to change that.

2. Appreciation of every single being on the planet that sexual orientation does not matter in a relationship and that, no matter what you consider yourself, that society accepts you no matter what.

3. That everyone becomes the best person they can possibly be. We could conquer the world!

Do you prefer rain or sun?

RAIN!

Do you like thunderstorms?

Hell yeah!

Are you good at puzzles?

Depends which ones, generally yes. Depending on my mood, I can be very stubborn and finish it and sometimes I’m going to be screw it I give up lol!

What do you enjoy most about life?

My mutuals, happiness, fraternity, you guys and a few other things I’m sure (can’t remember)

What's your favorite fictional world? (DC, Marvel, Shadowhunters, etc)

DC, Marvel, Transformers and the 10 year old in me says Narnia as well!

What do you think happens after we die?

I feel like you’d come back as a different person. I’ve always wanted to believe that you’d become an animal but I have no idea!

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Indian food!!

Do you like to dance?

Yes but alone! I’m horrible at dancing!

Where do you feel most comfortable/safe?

With my best friend! Or at home!

What's something that always makes you smile?

My mutuals, your comments they seriously make my day a little brighter.

Are you good at gardening?

Nope I don’t like it either!

What's your preferred footwear?

Sneakers if that’s what it’s called!

Favorite flower?

Roses!

What fills up your heart to bursting level?

Kitties and puppies! 😍 Also anything including helping people or animals together and/or animals with their owners.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

Opening up to someone, showing my feelings and emotions and getting out there to make friends. I haven’t had the best childhood.

What’s your favorite poem or saying?

“Hope for the Best, Plan for the Worst”

And most importantly: do you think we'll ever see good writing again in DC for our favorite characters?

I really hope so, the writers are becoming more and more despised. Only DC fans hate DC on a completely different level of hatred lmao.

What'd you think of Heath Ledger's Joker?

Terrifying. heath Ledge did a fine good job at portraying someome that puts that unsettling feeling in your gut. Every one of his scenes are iconic. The best Joker so far in my opinion.

whO rAnKs NumBer TwO iN "Batboys with a fresh booty" since we all know dick ranks number one

Hmmmm,

Conclusion...

That’s a very cute tushy if you ask me!

[not my pics]

what do you think about Erik Lehnsherr and Stephen Strange?

I’m not particularly attacted to Erik but I know he’s misunderstood and I understand why he’s so loveable by many people in the X-Men fandom. But he’s just not my type of guy.

Stephen Strange is badass and a sass master and no one can convince me otherwise. He’s an awesome character.

what would your perfect date with Donnie (Donald Pierce) be like?

Ohhh, going to the movies and then just hanging out somewhere nice, talking and laughing and then ordering takeaway and cuddling up on the couch whilst watching Netflix ahhh! 🙈

#get to know the writer #milestone #75 000 reads on wattpad #wattpad #80k now tho #tag game #q&a #celebration

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bywheelers · 6 years

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TAG GAMES

tagged by @cstlebyrs, thank you gemma <3

Nicknames: alex, or ale

Gender: female

Star sign: scorpio

Height: 1,60

Sexuality: bisexual

Current time: 5:42 pm

Favorite band: oh man, do i even have one? i don’t think so... but possibly imagine dragons, or fall out boy

Favorite solo artist: now, i really don’t have faves, i love a lot of solo artist just the same

Song stuck in your head: lsd - genius

Last movie seen: infinity war ;;;u;;;

Movie I want to see: ha... a lot of them, but for now deadpool i guess

Last TV show watched: i think it was csi but i can’t remember which one

Why did you create your blog: for stranger things

Last thing you googled: yullen (anime lol)

Why the URL: for byeler

I follow: 44

Followers: in this blog 1,713

Do you get asks? i mean now that i’m on hiatus, not really lol

Average hours of sleep: it depends... usually 7-8

Lucky number: 4

Instrument: nada, unfortunately

What are you wearing: sport pants and a tshirt

Dream job: something tourism related

Dream trip: holy molly..... my man, i can’t even begin to list, every trip is a dream trip so...

Favorite food: don’t have one

Favorite song right now: probably either summertime, or bloom

Top three universes: stranger things, marvel, harry potter

Last book I read: six of crows

Do you believe in the paranormal/ the unexplainable? And if so; What do you believe in? And have you ever had any ‘experiences’?: i believe in life beyond earth

tagged by @sassy-molassy, thanks diana <3

The last song you listened to: lsd - genius A song that comes up when you put your phone on a shuffle: where the wild things are - zeds dead & illenium A song you were recently obsessed with: summertime - yellow claw & han solo A song you didn’t expect to like but eventually loved: i dunno... i usually don’t expect to not like songs.... A song that gets you in the Christmas mood: wham! - last christmas A song that reminds you of summer and vacation: this summer’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker -maroon 5 A song that reminds you of your crush: if i had a crush i would put something A song that reminds you of your best friend: psycho - post malone A song that reminds you of your ex: again don’t have one so A song that never fails to get you pumped up: any yellow claw song probably A song you listen to when you’re sad: lukas graham - better than yourself A song you’d love to dance with your love to: none really A song you wish you could erase from your memory: nothing comes to mind rn A song that influenced you a lot: dunno A song that fits your personality: i have no idea A song that you sing while drunk: i’m never drunk tho so i dunno The best song to get drunk to: honestly i don’t know how to answer half of these, i dunno man The best song for sex: sex on fire - kings of leon The best song for making love: i wonder myself Favourite movie soundtrack: THE GREATEST SHOWMAN SOUNDTRACK ALL OF THEM Favourite TV series soundtrack: nothing comes to mind Favourite old song: show must go on - queens Favourite song from your country: i don’t listen to any song from my country tbh..... All-time favourite song: don’t have one

tagged by @astrangeelephant, thanks jacob <3

Name: alexandra

Nickname: alex

Height: 1′60

Orientation: bi

Nationality: romanian, tho i’m in the middle of changing it to a spanish one

Favourite fruit: hmm watermelons, strawberries, bananas, cherries, and so many more *-*

Favourite season: WINTER

Favourite flower: dunno man...

Favourite scent: the smell after rain

Favourite colour: black, green, blue, silver

Favourite animal: cats, dogs, owls

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? neither?

Average sleep hours: 7-8

Dogs or cats? BOTHHH

Favourite fictional character: my sweet lord, i CANNOT choose

Number of blankets you sleep with: 2

Dream trip: ALL OF THEM ARE DREAM TRIPS

Blog created: back in november last year i’m pretty sure

Follower count: 1,713

Random fact: half of my bed is full of plush toys

#because i got tagged some time ago but i totally forgot about them #so i'm just putting them all together #thanks for tagging me guys <3 #tag game #it was the best queue i've ever done

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kyashin · 7 years

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Voltron: The Fandom of You

Soooooo, hi. I want to talk about Voltron fandom, because I have some positive things to say about it. But first, I want to talk about due South.

due South is one of my favorite shows, and the fandom produced some of my favorite fan content. All around, it was a fantastic contribution to the universe. Well done, humanity.

For the uninitiated, the show is: Canadian Mountie Benton Fraser, the most upstanding and honest (and sarcastic) person imaginable, first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father; and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, he remained, attached as liaison officer with the Canadian Consulate. It was a buddy cop show, and for seasons one and two, his cop buddy was an Italian-American dude named Ray Vecchio. Some people shipped it.

The show was canceled, and then, after enthusiastic fan campaigning, lovingly revived for two more seasons with Paul Gross––the actor who played Fraser––at the helm as executive producer. Unfortunately, David Marciano was unable to reprise his role as Ray Vecchio, so yikes! Now what? The entire premise of this thing was “sincere Canadian Mountie and cynical American cop shenanigans”. The solution was to replace Ray Vecchio. Literally. Like...in the show.

The first episode of season three has Fraser arriving in Chicago after a vacation in Canada to find this hot blond dude with a way different accent claiming to be Ray Vecchio, who is dark-haired and different-accented and just...you know...an entire different human being. Aaand let’s skip to the end of the episode where it turns out that Actual Ray Vecchio is undercover with the mob, so this new dude is gonna pretend to be him ‘til Vecchio gets back. New dude’s name is Ray Kowalski. People also shipped that.

But the fans who’d like, worked feverishly to get their show back on the air weren’t counting on having half the duo they wanted back erased from the show. !!!!!!!!!!!

Enter the Ray Wars. (Seriously, there’s a whole thing about them on fanlore.)

And a disclaimer: I wasn’t in the fandom for the height of the rage and fury, but I did saunter in as things were winding down, and even then some of the wreckage was still smoldering. That whole kerfuffle was Fandom Infamous for a super long time––and people who’ve been in Fandom long enough definitely know the Ray Wars by name AND reputation. For years, I’d see the Ray Wars held up by others as one of the ultimate examples of “intense fans” and just how Not Good a Look fandom can make for itself.

Here’s the thing though: the Ray Wars took place in the late 90s. No social media, no widespread understanding of fandom throughout the population. Fans were, like, on mailing lists and shit. The people who created AO3 were posting fic on web hosts like Geocities and Angelfire. Some people still called the internet “the web”, AOL was the gatekeeper to the internet things for a lot of people, and fans were figuring out that we could do ~*~*~*this*~*~*~ to make our user names look super unique and cool (not that I did that, just to be real, real clear). In that time, fandoms were very, super insular worlds with very tall, very robust fourth walls separating fans from creators and actors.

And for decades, these niche-occupying fans were accustomed to consuming very heterosexual content––shows and movies and comics and video games––and then writing whole-ass essays about how you could interpret this same-sex ship as legitimate within canon if you tilted your head 23 degrees, closed one eye, ignored the heterosexual ending, and stared long enough at these four screenshots from that one scene in episode 13.

You’d see flinches of contact between Fandom and The Established Source Material Creators sometimes. but it was rare. Anne Rice, for example, haaaaaaaaates fanfiction, and she’d go to great lawyery lengths to erase all she could find of it from the internet. Generally speaking, though, creators lived over there, and fans lived here, and we didn’t have much of an opportunity to interact with each other outside of, like, letters and conventions. There were still disrespectful fans, but you had to, like, make an effort to be a direct nuisance to the cast or crew.

Also, admitting to liking “slash” fanfiction as a woman back then got you “you just like slash because you’re too jealous to imagine your favorite male characters with women” at best and “that’s disgusting” at worst. ...Eh, there was probably worse, let’s be real.

So you can imagine the reaction many of us had when Paul Gross was interviewed about due South’s upcoming third season in 1997 and said of Callum Keith Rennie, the actor who’d play Ray Kowalski, “I tell you, slash fiction is going to go crazy when they see the new guy. He is really good-looking and sexy, the dangerous side of Fraser. It will be totally homoerotic.” THESE WERE THINGS AN EXECUTIVE PRODUCER SAID. IN 1997. KNOW WHAT ELSE HAPPENED IN 1997? ELLEN DEGENERES CAME OUT. AND THEN LOST HER CAREER BECAUSE OF IT FOR A LONG-ASS TIME. WILL AND GRACE WASN’T EVEN A THING YET (1998). NEITHER WAS THE ORIGINAL UK VERSION OF QUEER AS FOLK (1999).

Like, holy shit???

And the thing is? He wasn’t baiting. The show intentionally included a LOT of subtext between Fraser and Ray Kowalski, to the point where the last episode of the show showed Ray having a literal identity crisis because he could tell Fraser wanted to go back to Canada permanently and like, “who am I without him” and then the series ends with the two of them sledding into the actual sunset no I’m not exaggerating that happened WHAT EVEN WAS THIS BLESSING IN 1999.

Were they canon? Eeeeeh. Kinda? It was 1997, I’d call whatever they were groundbreaking, at least for me. And the reason I say it wasn’t baiting is because all Paul said was, “Slash fans will like this,” and many of us did. So, y’know. Truth in advertising. Well done, Paul.

AND NOW IT IS THE YEAR OF OUR QUEERS, 20gayteen, and SO MANY THINGS have changed for the better for LGBTQ folks in the last two decades. Like, Voltron fandom is WILD to me sometimes (in a fantastic way) because some of the fans are actually young enough to have been born after the AIDS crisis, after Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered, after Don’t Ask Don’t Tell––after all these horrible, devastating wounds were inflicted on our beautiful queer family. There are actually fans in Voltron who believe, without a sliver of doubt, that a same-sex pairing can and will become canon.

That’s bananas to me. That there is hope like that! Belief like that! Because I was born at the very end of the AIDS crisis and I didn’t hear the word bisexual until I was, like, twelve, let alone have enough of a support system around me to embrace that label for myself. B A N A N A S.

So of course––of course––there’s a part of me that hopes a same-sex pairing will happen in Voltron. Just thinking about how Dreamworks almost made Miguel and Tulio a canon couple in The Road to El Dorado in 2000 makes my heart twinge with disappointment. (Yes, Chel is great, but.)

See, I’m super attached to Voltron even when the writing is clearly stifled and bridled in by the people whose job it is to sell lots and lots of Voltron toys. I read klance fic and reblog VLD fanart and I have one (1) friend who also watches the show. We talk about it sometimes, and I throw fanart of Shiro at her because he’s her favorite. She doesn’t ship anything, and I am a cheerful little klance-shipping demon. I am in a fandom of two, and it’s pretty great in here.

But.

Voltron’s a lighthearted kid’s show about humans and aliens piloting mecha lions in space to save the universe from space colonialism, and while I will be dizzy with glee if a same-sex couple becomes canon in this show, I want it more for the intended audience of Voltron: kids.

I met a kid last year at Osaka Pride whose mother said, “He came home from school and told me, ‘I don’t feel like a girl or a boy,’” so this young mother brought her child to Pride to learn more about the community that her baby might belong in. And that lovely little human stayed on the fringes at first, apparently shy, until their mother told them, “Go on,” and then they spent the next ten minutes literally jogging around all the booths and beaming at everyone: the trans women in neon dresses cooing at how cute this little sunbeam was, the booth folks selling rainbow-themed merch, the couples hand-in-hand without shame or fear. And when they came back to their mom, they were completely carefree. And I thought, I wish that had been me.

And maybe it could’ve been, if every single cartoon I consumed as a child wasn’t coding gay men as villains, overtly implying that LGBT people had a direct link to actual pedophilia, and aggressively promoting heterosexual romance as The Only Acceptable Way of Love. If I’d grown up in a world where Ruby and Sapphire were on TV being happily in love every week, I might’ve realized what was in my own heart sooner than college.

So there is part of me who understands why people are so emotionally connected to the possibility of a ship like klance becoming canon. I’ve felt that urgent hope, that wild hunger, again and again and again and again in my life, and the only time I’ve ever had that hope realized in canon was in 2016 watching Viktor and Yuuri skate together in Yuri!!! on Ice. I cried. A lot.

I understand the emotion fueling the very, very bad decisions being made. In the simplest possible terms, the people who repeatedly harass the Voltron cast and crew are people who want a thing and are prioritizing getting that thing over the mental health of real people. I think it’s a symptom of internet detachment. When one is flinging words into a void, one doesn’t have to see how they’re received. Their actions––if I haven’t made it clear––are objectively harmful, and I don’t condone them.

But what I want to say––what I wrote this whole thing to say––is that Voltron isn’t a terrible fandom, and it isn’t the first fandom to have loud, overzealous fans who cross the line and make people inside and outside the fandom alike think, Yeesh they’re/we’re all lunatics. Voltron fandom is not The Worst, because I guarantee you if The Ray Wars were happening today, there’d totally be people on Twitter attacking Callum Keith Rennie directly for daring to replace David Marciano. It could have been so, so much uglier than it was, and it was already Bad.

In 1997, the fourth wall still more or less existed, and LGBT content––let alone respectful content––was scarce to say the least, so Fandom Discourse at the time remained generally contained to fan-on-fan unpleasantness. Today, that fourth wall is utterly gone, and I think all fandoms have to adapt to that and learn a whole new code of etiquette. LGBT rep is important, but there are respectful and effective ways to get it that don’t involve harassing the cast and crew. The voice actors and creators and crew of Voltron deserve basic human decency, and to be seen as people first and content creators second. It’s entirely possible for the majority of fandom to interact respectfully with the creators––it’ll just take time and patience, like most things that last.

So listen, everything’ll be fine. Try to have patience with each other. To quote a manga I’ve been translating: “There will be times in your life when you won’t be able to avoid being angry. Don’t make little things bigger than they have to be. Laugh and forgive.” Or, in this case, laugh and ignore. If you like a thing, awesome! Tell people! Or don’t! And if you don’t like something, carefully consider the consequences of what you do after you realize, I don’t like this. I don’t ship sheith at all, but for the last two years I’ve managed to leave alone the fans who do ship it and not send Shiro’s voice actor and his family angry, threatening messages. It wasn’t even difficult, guys. I just, like, read some klance fic instead.

I felt compelled to make this because I keep seeing posts from Voltron fans calling Voltron fandom a raging garbage fire and sure, there’re people playing near dry kindling with flamethrowers more than is advisable, but Voltron fans have created and will continue to create some beautiful content and friendships just for love of a show, and that’s lovely as fuck. If you’re feeling ashamed of your fandom and you haven’t done anything wrong, remember that you’re fandom, too. Keep being respectful, kind, and good. The terrible people won’t go away, but they won’t define the fandom for you unless you let them.

Be kind to each other, and things will improve.

And if anyone tells you your ship is bad, don’t talk to that person anymore, because that person probably has some dry kindling and a flamethrower.

And hey, if you’re at the end of this post and you’re like: Wow, this was way too short, and I would like to read more things this person has written, there’s always my Team Voltron-in-Japan AU. It has klance and Nyma/Allura and I enjoy writing it.

Wow, I’m hungry. Bye! :D/

#voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #fandom #due south #klance #sheith #other pairings #etc.

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sweet-as-battery · 7 years

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Rules:

Post the rules

Answer the questions given to you by the tagger

Write 11 questions of your own

And tag 11 people

Ayeeee! Thanks @1well-this-is-new1! This was real cool. Great questions!

If you had a million dollars (and you didn’t have to pay taxes on it) what would you do with it?

Hmm, I know I’d allot a chunk of it for a vacation of Europe like I’ve wanted since I was like 8, but besides that (and this is going to be mega lame) I would probably just put it in the bank and then whenever I get the sudden urge to buy like a book or a record or something stupid like that then I’d be covered.

What is your favorite old movie?

How old is old??? I mean, my favorite movie EVER is Ghostbusters, but I don’t know if the ‘80s is technically “old”. The Man Who Fell to Earth is a favorite too. That’s 70s, so slightly older??

What song lyric/quote speaks to you the most?

Lyrically, all of Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins. That’s my favorite song ever and the lyrics make my heart hurt in every possible way.

Loki or Thor?

LOKI!!! I mean, I love Hiddly Diddly AND Gabriel, so this is a no brainer to me.

Who is your favorite YouTuber?

Ummm??? My heart always has a little nook for Dan and Phil, but right now I’m really enjoying a channel called Defunctland because I actually highkey love theme parks and rides and rollercoasters and learning about all of the things that are gone now. It’s def cool, check ‘em out!

Glasses or contacts? (if you don’t wear either, pretend you do and pick one)

Glasses. I’m very very nearsighted and the idea of touching my eye gives me the heebie jeebies. Just call me Mr. Magoo.

What OTP rips your heart out the most?

Idk actually?? I’m not real big on shipping anymore. Back in the day it was that huge monster of a ship that starts with a D and still isn’t canon, but I don’t know. Just not that into shipping much anymore. Mulder and Scully from the X-Files, maybe??

New York or L.A?

Haven’t been to L.A., but boy oh boy do I love New York. Coming from a real small town, New York is a surreal place and I can’t get enough of it whenever I go.

What is your opinion on Blobfish?

Oddly endearing in a slimy, gloopy way. Don’t like how they drool sometimes though. Creeps my out a bit. I think I’ll stick with the axolotls though.

What is the weirdest thing you did when you were 3-7 years old?

Imagined up an entire rom com musical in my head using songs on my mp3 player. The kid across the street from me had a trampoline and I loved him, but he always had these two girls over to play on it instead, and they would frequently bully me. So I would sit on my swing set and angrily sing New Shoes by Paolo Nutini and try to work out how I would kill them in my imaginary musical.

What is the best book you’ve ever read?

Well, my favorite book is Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, so by default I would have to say that one. I mean, it has everything: space, ridiculous humor, depressed robots, a man with two heads and three arms, the sassiest and most defeated Englishman, and an alien whose one purpose is to seek out an exact person in the galaxy just to verbally insult them. What’s not to love???? I mean, I also love anything by Vonnegut and Hunter S. Thompson.

My 11 questions for YOU to answer (these are going to be so random):

Who is the fictional character you relate to most?

Would you rather see a sunset on a beach or a sunrise in the woods?

Renaissance or modern art?

If you were a witch/wizard/shaman/whichever you please, what kind of spell would you be best versed in?

Mod or rocker? Glam or punk?

One meal you could eat for the rest of your life?

You get free unlimited wifi wherever you go, except you have to plug into your own body and use YOUR energy. Would you accept?

Weirdest dream you’ve ever had?

Would you rather have a dog that barked all through the night and kept you awake or someone who followed you during the day, constantly trying to get your attention by saying your name?

Aliens or mermaids?

What’s your favorite board game?

(Wow some of these are really weird)

I tag:

@unleashthemidnight @whatshernamemaria @wacheypena @ur-meowjesty @misha-in-the-tardis-on-mars @hitlerpuppy @carlos-spicy-weeeeiner @coffee-with-coop @gabrieltrash @samraimi @themagicofdamon

#asks #tag #I AM SORRY IF YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE TAGGED #I AM A LONELY BEAN #wave five

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faithfulnews · 5 years

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Work, Play, Poetry

By Anthony Domestico

March 4, 2020

The life of the late novelist Robert Stone was filled with improbabilities. As Madison Smartt Bell puts it in his new biography, Stone, whose globe-spanning novels took on American history and the American soul, had “a taste for marijuana and alcohol (and for quaaludes and opiates).” In the 1960s, Stone was friends with Ken Kesey; you can imagine how much imbibing that entailed. While in Vietnam on a reporting trip, he experimented with heroin. (He “snorted, smoked, [and] possibly drank it on one occasion,” Bell writes.) Yet Stone lived to the ripe age of seventy-seven, writing a strong novel, Death of the Black-Haired Girl, two years before he died in 2015. “A connoisseur of women of all varieties,” Bell writes, perhaps a little too forgivingly, “Bob was far from above the occasional fling.” He had an open marriage—so open that he had a child with a family friend in the 1960s and a tempestuous affair with a younger writer three decades later. Yet he stayed with his wife Janice for fifty-five years. By Bell’s reckoning, and it seems accurate, theirs was a happy marriage.

But the most pleasant surprise, for me at least, was the decades-long friendship Stone had with Marilynne Robinson. What a literary odd couple they make: Robinson the proud Calvinist and Stone the lapsed Catholic; Robinson known best for her quiet, lovely novels about mid-century Iowa and Stone known best for his wild, prophetic novels—A Hall of Mirrors (1967), A Flag for Sunrise (1981), and others—all probing the manic brain and corrupted heart of American empire. What must the two writers have talked about? The nature of God, I’m sure. (Stone in an interview: “As a result of having been a Catholic, I’m acutely aware of the difference between a world in which there’s a God and a world in which there isn’t.”) The nature of craft, I imagine. (Stone taught at Johns Hopkins and Yale, among other places.)

Bell was friends with Stone, and his affection for his subject comes through. Writing in the first person, Bell recreates trips the two took to Haiti and conversations they had about fiction’s moral purpose. Despite this love, though, Bell doesn’t hold back, especially when it comes to the suffering brought on by Stone’s addictions. The last hundred or so pages are difficult to read, an onslaught of car crashes—Stone was a terrible driver, even when sober—narcotic dependence, increasingly frequent falls, and an attempted suicide. Stone was charismatic, everyone agrees. He was also destructive, to others occasionally and to himself consistently.

Bell is an accomplished novelist in his own right, and Child of Light, like a good work of fiction, lives through its details. Stone “huffed as much oxygen as possible in a back room of Politics and Prose” before giving a reading. David Milch, the producer of Deadwood, put Stone on the payroll at his production company to give him something to do, and some money, after a stint in rehab. Annie Dillard and Joy Williams vacationed with Stone in the 1990s. (Dillard and Stone went white-water tubing in Missoula and saw a brown bear.)

Stone’s writing offers an imaginative record of America’s political and spiritual dimensions: “That is my subject,” Stone wrote, “America and Americans.” Bell reads this wild life and lasting achievement with grace and sympathy.

Child of Light: A Biography of Robert Stone Madison Smartt Bell Doubleday, $35, 608 pp.

Baseball here is a business, and Nemens gives it to us from all angles

Robert Coover’s The Universal Baseball Association, Inc., J. Henry Waugh, Prop. is the best baseball novel ever written, and I won’t hear otherwise. But The Cactus League, the first novel by Paris Review editor Emily Nemens, is also very good.

If Nemens’s debut is not quite in the same league as The Universal Baseball Association, that’s partly because it’s playing a different game. Coover’s is a postmodern novel about the postmodernism of America’s pastime. (We often care less about the game itself than about its statistical representations—batting averages and win shares.) Nemens’s is a work of straightforward realism. Baseball here is a business, and Nemens gives it to us from all angles: superstar outfielders losing fortunes at the gambling table; groupies hanging out by the bullpen; agents hushing up scandals; elderly stadium organists whose stiff hands can’t hit the keys they once could.

The Cactus League takes place in Arizona during spring training. Each chapter, nine in all, follows a different figure associated with the imaginary Los Angeles Lions franchise. Most of the particulars are right. Nemens knows that Notre Dame’s baseball team is in the ACC, and she nicely skewers the increasing encroachment of hot tubs and goofy sound effects in new ballparks. A lovely small detail: Jason Goodyear, the book’s self-sabotaging superstar, gets a signature sneaker—“the first time they’d named a shoe after a ballplayer since Griffey.”

Not everything works. No fan would call a pitcher a “fastballer,” as one character does. (At least it’s not “speedballer,” à la Bruce Springsteen.) No partial owner could demand that a prominent outfielder be traded because of sexual jealousy—and then have it happen within days. (Partial owners don’t have that much power; star players don’t get traded overnight, especially when their replacement has only played college ball.) Such details wouldn’t much matter in a postmodernist romp. They do here.

But the pacing is good and the prose generally strong. Nemens refuses to engage in the romanticizing many fall into when spring comes around. Bartlett Giamatti famously and poetically said that baseball “is designed to break your heart.” After all, Giamatti rhapsodizes, “the game begins in spring…blossoms in the summer…[and] leaves you to face the fall alone.” Fair enough. But Nemens shows how baseball also breaks your heart for more prosaic reasons: because rotator cuffs fray, because spring-training towns are depressing, and because billion-dollar franchises don’t give a fig about poetry.

The Cactus League Emily Nemens Farrar, Straus and Giroux, $27, 288 pp.

In baseball, there can come a point when you’ve so often been described as underrated that you cease to be underrated. Trot Nixon, for example: a decent right fielder in the early 2000s who Red Sox fans so often dubbed underrated that he became overrated. Charles Portis, the Arkansas-born novelist who was famous for being underrated and who died on February 17, never suffered this fate. There’s a certain kind of greatness that, no matter how many times we remark upon it, will always be underrecognized.

People who know Portis, whose out-of-print novels were reissued in the 1990s, probably know him as the author of True Grit. It’s a great novel, and it’s been made into two great movies. But every shaggy-dog story he wrote, every picaresque comedy of American naiveté and dreaminess, was great. His sentences display a funny, poetic, loose yet disciplined, absolutely American prose style. Since his death, fans have been passing around some of their favorite passages. Here are a few of my own. From The Dogs of the South: “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a President, unless it was tiny James Madison with his short arms, who couldn’t have handled Dupree in a fair fight.” From Masters of Atlantis: “It’s not healthy, locking yourself away in here so you can eat pies and read all these monstrous books with f’s for s’s.”

Rest in peace, Charles Portis.

The Dogs of the South and Masters of Atlantis

For decades, the poet and critic Paul Mariani has been a shining light for those interested in the Catholic imagination. We can hear Gerard Manley Hopkins, that great poet of the dark night, when Mariani laments no longer being able to see the “greengold grass, / glistening the bright skin of the copper beeches.” And we can hear Hopkins again, that great poet of the shining day, when Mariani describes “know[ing] that somewhere, now as then, the wind keeps whispering still”—the Holy Spirit moving and transfiguring always, even when we can’t sense it.

Mariani’s new work of criticism, The Mystery of It All, is a twilight book. Its epigraph, addressed to his wife of more than fifty years, begins, “Moon, old moon, dear moon, I beg you / answer when I call out to you.” Its final sentences read, “‘In His Will Is Our Peace.’ The very words I have etched into our gravestone.” In recent years, the eighty-year-old Mariani has been diagnosed and treated for brain cancer. This gives his epilogue, titled “On the Work Still to Be Done,” particular force.

Yet what is most striking about this book is how buoyant it is, how joyful is its account of a life of reading and writing. Hopkins, Stevens, Berryman, O’Connor: they’re all here, and Mariani attends both to their smallest formal decisions and their most expansive metaphysical concerns. “I have read and taught Stevens for over fifty years,” he remarks. “He is someone who never ceases to delight.” Great critics are able to turn the readerly delight they experience transitive: to explain it, yes, but also to pass it on to the reader. By this and many other standards, Mariani is a strong critic.

Here he is on Hopkins’s darkness: “All is unselved, untuned, and, just as violin or catgut strings go slack, all clear voweling lost, so do we, the words themselves as if swallowed, until ‘all is enormous dark / Drowned.’” And here he is on Hopkins’s sacramental, perceptual joy: “Look at the Welsh farmers with their horses in the countryside about him, breaking up the moist clods of earth: how the light shines upon them, catching the quartz glints, in an instant turning them into diamondlike shards of light—‘sheer plod’ itself doing this, allowing the plow and the sillion both to shine in God’s light.”

Even and especially in twilight, Mariani shows us the light.

The Mystery of It All Paul Mariani Paraclete Press, $25, 240 pp.

Even and especially in twilight, Mariani shows us the light.

Hopkins, who broke and remade form in almost everything he wrote, would have loved the poet Jericho Brown. The Tradition is Brown’s third collection of poetry. It’s also his best—the most interesting in form, the most wide-ranging in reference, the most daring in its wedding of the private and public, the spiritual and the sexual.

Brown has talked about reading T. S. Eliot’s “Tradition and the Individual Talent” obsessively while working on this book. Eliot’s influence can be felt in this collection’s sense of tradition speaking to, and being changed by, the present. Eliot’s ghost is here. So too are the ghosts of James Baldwin, Lucille Clifton, and Essex Hemphill.

Brown writes several poems in a new form he calls the duplex: a combination of the sonnet, the ghazal, and the blues. “Though I may not be, I do feel like a bit of a mutt in the world,” Brown has said. Queer, black, and Southern, he wanted to create a form that felt as unlikely as himself. These duplexes work by repetition and reconfiguration. Here’s a snippet:

My first love drove a burgundy car. He was fast and awful, tall as my father.

Steadfast and awful, my tall father Hit hard as a hailstorm. He’d leave marks.

Light rain hits easy but leaves its own mark Like the sound of a mother weeping again.

As seen here, Brown often writes about trauma: the trauma of being a hurt child or a hurt lover; the trauma of being black in America (“I promise if you hear / Of me dead anywhere near / A cop, then that cop killed me”) and the trauma of being queer in America (“My man swears his HIV is better than mine”).

But The Tradition also gives witness to joy—in sex and language, in the traditions of black art and the black church. Brown was raised Baptist, and you can hear this legacy in his imagery and music:

Forgive me, I do not wish to sing Like Tramaine Hawkins, but Lord if I could Become the note she belts halfway into The fifth minute of “The Potter’s House”

When black vocabulary heralds home- Made belief: For any kind of havoc, there is Deliverance!

That duplex I quoted from above begins and ends with the same line: “A poem is a gesture toward home.” Brown finds a temporary home, a form of deliverance, in and through tradition in its many forms.

The Tradition Jericho Brown Copper Canyon Press, $17, 110 pp.

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lukaina · 7 years

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The BookWorm Questionnaire!

[Disclaimer: I have not created this questionnaire. I had the post in drafts and completed it today. However, the person that I saved the draft from has already deactivated the account. Their source was: http://bookaddict24-7.com/]

1. What book are you reading right now?

I am in the middle of “The illustrated Gormenghast Trilogy” (the second book: Gormenghast) by Mervyn Peake. I have a novella by Laird Barron left in the “Ominosus” anthology that contained to lovecraftiana novelettes by Elizabeth Bear and Caitlín R. Kiernan. Finally, on Friday I started reading “Too Like the Lighting” by Ada Palmer, the first book in the Terra Ignota quartet and a really challenging text so far.

2. What will you read next? I plan to keep on reading horror anthologies, maybe throw a Tanith Lee novel to spice things up and read the second TP of the comic “Monstress” by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda. I am also interested in checking the much hyped “The Girls” by Emma Cline and reading “Sunshine” by Robin McKinley.

3. What was your favorite childhood book? It would be tied between “Glubbslyme” by Jacqueline Wilson (in Spanish: “Babatracio”) and “La auténtica Susi” (in German: “Echt Susi”) by Christine Nöstlinger.

4. What were your reading habits like as a kid? I read often, went to the library at least once a week and was scolded for reading “too much” by my grandmother, who thought it was damaging my sight. In retrospect, it probably didn’t help that I needed glasses as soon as I started reading.

5. How many books do you have checked out from the library? Right now, none, but when I do I take at least two.

6. What books do you have on hold at the library? None at the moment.

7. Do you have a bad book habit? I have a horrible posture reading and my neck and back suffer. Also, I tend to read while eating now that I work at home and sauces/soups/teas end up staining the pages more often that I would like to admit.

8. Do you read one book at a time, or several? I used to be a strict one-book-at-a-time person (unless one was an essay) by now I juggle at least couple of books. I read the very heavy tomes and the paperbacks with thin binding at home to avoid damaging the books and I usually take the e-reader or a lighter book to read outside (for paperbacks, I use a small cloth bag I bought in Germany for book carrying or a totebag if I have lent the bag to Marc).

9. What is your favorite book you’ve read this year? “The Dispossessed” by Ursula K. Le Guin is absurdly good (and now I want to live on an anarchist moon). Second would be “Radiance” by Catherynne M. Valente, a decopunk novel about b/w cinema in a world where the Solar System has been populated by humans.

10. What is your least favorite book you’ve read this year? I read professionally for a publishing house and some of the manuscripts were subpar. A couple contained very harmful tropes and some had the laziest writing you can imagine.

11. What is your reading comfort zone? Dark fantasy, science-fiction, non-gorey horror, magical realism.

12. How often do you read outside of your comfort zone? Not often. I rarely read mysteries, romance, erotica or historical novels. Lately, I have received a score of YA manuscripts because of my and I have ended up reading many romantic stories and thrillers.

13. What is your favorite place to read? Trains and buses. I don’t usually get motion sickness and the landscape is an interesting view when I need to rest my eyes.

14. Do you lend out books? Not often. My friends live far or have too many books of their own pending.

15. Do you dog-ear books? NEVER. I remember or use one of my billion bookmarks (or random pieces of paper).

16. Do you write in the margins of books? No. I have a notebook for my manuscript reading and I try to take notes on my phone when I really like a quote.

17. What makes you love a book? Non-reliable narrators, a heavy use of mythology and folklore, beautiful descriptions, given names that have meaning, a plot that follows several generations of a family, sorority.

18. What will inspire you to recommend a book? When I realize a book is a perfect fit for a person and they are going to appreciate the style or the theme.

19. What is the one book you will always recommend to everyone? My Tanith Lee proselytism forces me to recommend “Biting the Sun” to everybody. I have also been an enthusiast defender of “The Drowning Girl” by Caitlín R. Kiernan, the comics “The Wicked + The Divine” (by Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie), the novel “Embassytown” by China Miéville (translator sci-fi!) and Jacqueline Carey’s “Kushiel’s Dart”.

20. Is there a book you love that nobody else seems to? In high school we had to read “Últimas tardes con Teresa” by Juan Marsé and everybody I know dislikes it violently, while I can still quote fragments.

21. Do you read while you are: Eating? Taking a bath? Watching TV? Listening to music? On the computer? On the bus? Eating: yes. Taking a bath: never (I would be too afraid and also I have a very small bath). Watching TV: no and I also find distracting if somebody else is watching. Listening to music: not often but I can if it helps drown a worse sound. On the bus: yes, and gladly.

22. What is your favorite genre to read? Dark fantasy followed by anthropological science-fiction (in the vein of Le Guin or Karen Lord’s “The Best of all Possible Worlds”).

23. What genre do you rarely read, but wish you read more of? Historical. I like history but I am not sure of where the good books are between a pile of mediocre and lengthy novels.

24. What is your favorite biography? I have not read many biographies but I like essays with biographical content like Caitlin Moran’s books or Kameron Hurleys’ “The Geek Feminist Revolution”.

25. What is your favorite non-fiction? I remember enjoying “Evil by Design”: The Creation and Marketing of the Femme fatale” about the idea of the fallen woman, the dichotomy Virgin Mary/prostitute, the mythological representation of evil women and the female characterization of absinthe.

26. Have you ever read a self-help book? My friends gifted me a teenage book on self-esteem but other than that I tend to dislike the genre and avoid it.

27. What is your favorite reading snack? Ideally, something that is not messy and does not leave crumbs or stains but I love drinking coffee/tea and eating chocolate while reading.

28. What is the most inspirational book you’ve read this year? “The Dispossessed” has prompted HOURS of speculation with Marc about the feasibility of the political and economic system in the novel. Creatively speaking, the Gormenghast series is so beautifully and evocatively written that some fragments are even painful to read.

29. Are there any books that have been ruined for you by all the hype? I hyped myself too much with Jeffrey Eugenides’ “The Marriage Plot” because I had loved “The Virgin Suicides” and “Middlesex”. I was a bit disappointed and I didn’t engage with the characters.

30. How often do you agree with critics about a book? I don’t tend to follow the critics but I check the recommendations of people with a taste similar to mine.

31. How do you feel about giving negative reviews? I used to write reviews for a website and it was really hard for me, as I imaged the impact it could have in the author. I only rate books I really enjoy in Goodreads to get similar recommendations. I feel that the system of stars or points never really reflects my experience with a book and that we tend to focus on objectivity too much while most of my reading experience is REALLY subjective.

32. What book are you most intimidated to begin? It used to be “Ada or Ardor” by Nabokov and it was really challenging. Now I am respectfully waiting for the right moment to start “Perdido Street Station” by China Miéville.

33. What book are you most likely to take on vacation with you? I like tying books to travels (“Game of Thrones” was my Erasmus read, I read “Sabella” by Tanith Lee and “Aniara” by Harry Martinson in Venice, etc.). I tend to plan the books I pack for travels with care. In December I have a wedding and I am already pondering which Tanith Lee novel I will take with me. Probably I will continue the Flat Earth series.

34. What is the longest you have gone without reading? A couple of days.

35. What is a book that you just couldn’t finish? The feminist essay book “Vamps & Tramps” by Camille Paglia. I don’t recall exactly why, only that I feel a remnant of anger when I see the cover.

36. What is the most money you have spent on books at one time? Around 80-100 euros on a couple of very specific occasions.

37. How often do you skim through a book before reading it? Very often. I had to cure me of the impulsion to check the last line of a book because I was spoiling myself often.

38. Do you keep books or give them away once you’ve read them? I tend to keep them and they will make the next time we change flats a living hell :)

39. Are there any books that you’ve been avoiding, or refuse to read? I actively avoid giving money to Orson Scott Card.

40. What is a book you didn’t expect to like, but did? The first stories of Lankhmar by Fritz Leiber. Sword and sorcery seems a bit stale for me as a subgenre but I found the stories funny and I loved to spot future Discworld references.

41. What is your favorite guilt-free pleasure reading? In ASOIAF I swooned with the Sansa Stark/Sandor Clegane relationship. I acknowledge he is a troubled character and his whole attraction to youth/beauty/purity is very cliché but I have a soft spot for certain clichés.

42. What reading materials are in your bathroom right now? None. My bathroom is a small wet place and I want my books dry. However, I sometimes bring reading materials to the bathroom.

43. What book do you most remember reading for school? “La plaça del Diamant” by Catalan author Mercè Rodoreda, the story of a poor and very sensitive woman living in a Barcelona cursed by the civil war. It’s a sad book with a glimmer of hope. If you are trying to get into Catalan lit, this one is a top recommendation!

44. What was the last book that you couldn’t put down until you finished it? “Wylding Hall” by Elizabeth Hand.

45. What book is (physically) closest to you right now? I’m in the office/library at home so most of my books are equally close to me now.

46. What is your favorite book series? The first Kushiel trilogy by Jacqueline Carey. It is not that I don’t recommend the other books in the same universe, only that I have not read them yet and I can’t say if they hold up to the original trilogy.

47. What is the longest book you’ve ever read? Shortest? Longest: According to Goodreads, “A Dance with Dragons”, followed by Michel Faber’s “The Crimson Petal and the White”. Shortest: don’t remember. Maybe a couple of small anthologies with Russian short stories by Pushkin and Teffi.

48. Who is your favorite book character? As a kid, I adored Anne (of Green Gables). Now I admire Granny Weatherwax from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, for example.

49. Who is your favorite author? Tanith Lee.

50. What is your favorite book? I am not really sure but I started saying “Biting the Sun” by Tanith Lee and it has stuck.

#books #fiction #questionnaire #tanith lee #discworld #caitlín r. kiernan #jacqueline carey #elizabeth hand #gormenghast #ursula k. le guin #china miéville #ada palmer #karen lord #mercè rodoreda #jeffrey eugenides #terry pratchett #kameron hurley #the wicked + the divine

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worksofphiction · 7 years

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(leprompt if u wanna write pwease)tired,underrated&worried fantasy-authorphil struggles to maintain his happy&bubbly personality as his very low book sales are no longer enough to support his dying mother. imagine dan's surprised fangirling as his favauthor just walks into the cafe & becomes his coworker one rainyday but he quickly discovers theres more to the man then well-crafted words/Phil falls slowly into hopelessness,lonelines & despair as his loving mum fades away& Dan? Dan falls in love.

You Can’t Tackle Your Demons on Your Own

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Dan is obsessed with a series of books by the amazing author, Phil Lester. He spends his time at the coffee shop he works at reading the books over and over again in the closet. When he meets a new co-worker who is also named Phil, they go on a date. Little does Dan know, he’s sharing a cup of coffee with the author he’s considered his best friend for years.As he gets to know Phil, he finds that Phil is housing a destructive secret. Why did Phil apply to work at The Brew Bean in the first place and what happens when Phil starts breaking away, piece by piece? Can Dan save his beloved author or is Phil going to fall slowly and hopelessly into loneliness and despair? All the while, Dan is falling in love.Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Sex, You’re Gonna CryWord Count: 21,897Reading Time: 01:20:43Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

This was certainly one of the hardest fics I’ve ever had to write. It’s really sad and I’ve cried so many times writing it.I hope you all enjoy my pain and suffering.

…and nothing made Striker happier than slaying the dragon he sought out to tackle. He made sure to wipe off the blood from his sword before returning it to its sheath and he faced his lover on the left. Embracing him and passionately planting a kiss on his lips, Striker felt whole again. That is, until his next quest.

Dan Howell shut the novel he had read at least 15 times already and took a sip of his coffee. His shift was almost over and it was dead. The coffee shop he worked in never saw a lot of foot traffic and when it rained, the business always slowed. He figured out pretty quickly that bringing a book was always smart. Especially when the sky opened up like this.

“Howell, go pack up all the lemon cakes, would ya?” His boss, a lovely woman named Louise, chirped at him. “I don’t think we’ll need anymore today and I’d rather not have to make more in the morning if they spoil.”

Dan stood up straight and tucked his book under the counter as he went to do a task he’d done more times than he could count.

Dan had worked at The Brew Bean for nearly three years now. He moved to Manchester for school and when that didn’t work - because Law was never really his thing - he dropped out and picked up a full-time position at the coffee shop he used to only work at a couple days a week. The tips were good, it paid rent and he could live in the city that he had fallen in love with. Manchester was his second favorite thing. His first favorite thing was Phil Lester, a novelist that wrote fantasy and supplied Dan with a book a year since he was 17. Now he was 23 and the most experienced worker at The Brew Bean where he could serve the city of Manchester while reading his books all day long.

“Please tell me you’re doing something interesting this weekend,” Louise came up beside him, nudging him as she began to put plastic wrap over a lemon cake.

“I told you, I’m not doing anything. I don’t know why you gave me the whole weekend off,” Dan groaned, suddenly remembering that it was Friday and Louise had ‘blessed’ him with two days off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in tomorrow and help you-”

“Howell, I gave you those days off so you could go do something fun for a change! When’s the last time you looked up from those little novels you always have your nose in?” Louise teased. “I swear you’ve read the same book more times than I’ve seen my husband naked.”

Dan cringed and shook his head, letting the hair fall into his face and hide the blush.

“Besides, I have an interview this weekend. Wouldn’t want you to scare them off. It’s the first application we’ve had here since last year!” Louise collected the lemon cakes that she had wrapped and a few from Dan’s hand, putting them into the fridge behind them. “And you remember how that went.”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t scare her off! She came on to me and I told her I wasn’t interested! It’s not my fault she can’t take a hint,” Dan scoffed, remembering the bubbly chick that worked with him for four days, conveniently disappearing after Dan rejected her confession of attraction. It wasn’t Dan’s job to date his heterosexual co-workers. He didn’t even feel bad when she came in a month later to apologize to Louise and pick up a paycheck. “Second of all, don’t you think I should be here? You know, to train them or something?”

“Nice try, Sweetie. He doesn’t start until next week. I’ll need you then,” she chirped. “Consider it a vacation. You’ll be training next week.”

“Ugh,” Dan groaned. “I hope this weekend doesn’t cost me my ability to pay rent, because-”

“Oh, hush. You have worked plenty of overtime. You can’t possibly buy enough Mario Kart expansion packs to make a dent in your rent money.”

“Mario Kart doesn’t have-”

“Howell.”

“Okay okay.” He might as well give up. Once Louise was set in her ways, it was like her mind couldn’t be changed. He decided to change the subject. “So you said it was a he? What’s this new guy like?”

“I don’t know. He only called. I’ll meet him this weekend,” Louise answered. Dan nodded. “Sounds nice though. A tad northern. But I couldn’t tell over my cell.”

“Interesting. I wonder how old he is. We could use a little grunt around here,” Dan flashed Louise a wicked grin and she hit him in the arm.

“Go sweep up and then I’m sending you home.”

“Sick of me, are ya?”

“Quite.”

Dan hugged his book under his jacket as he darted for his apartment building. Luckily, he made the last bus just in time and now he had to endure the rainfall for a few minutes while he trekked the last two blocks. He didn’t mind the rain, especially when he was headed home. At least his hobbit hair wouldn’t be revealed to anyone but him.

He wasn’t angry at Louise because most of the time she was trying to do the right thing, but he honestly had no plans for the weekend. He didn’t have much of a social life - considering he wasn’t in school and it was just Louise and him at work. He hadn’t been home to see his parents in a while, however, sometimes he felt like they didn’t really want him to visit. Once he dropped out of Law school, he was afraid to go home because he wasn’t sure what their reactions would be. He knew it was the right choice, but that left Dan on his lonesome for most nights and days off. Luckily for him, he rarely was at home, which would also explain the mess.

He kicked off his wet shoes and headed for the bedroom to strip and shower. All the while, thinking about how he would spend his weekend.

Phil Lester usually released his new novels at the end of November and that meant Dan still had a month left to wait for the next in the series. This also meant that Dan had spent nearly a year with the last one. He had read it more times than the others, probably because he thought it was the best one. The perfect balance of adventure, romance, and mystery. Phil was good at that. Leaving people on the edge of their seats.

Dan did not understand why more people didn’t read Phil Lester’s novels. He wasn’t terribly popular and it was kind of by chance that Dan found his novels in the first place. He was hanging out in the library after his A-Level exams, helping the librarian organize a few of their shelves when he stumbled upon a box of books that had never been checked out and were being sent to the local thrift shop. Dan remembered thinking that no book belongs in a thrift shop and he dug through the box in search of a few he could save from their eternal dusty shelf life. Phil Lester’s first book sat at the bottom of the box underneath the rest. The cover was green and blue and there was a gnarly picture of a dragon. He flipped it over and read the back, instantly intrigued.

Striker is in danger, but nobody will believe him. What happens when you’re being hunted by a killer that nobody can see? Battling an invisible force, tackling an unexpected dragon and possibly sparking a romance with his partner Samuel, Striker leaves home and does his best to survive. Will he convince people that he’s trying to be a hero, or is he destined to be a flop who’s imagination runs wild?

Phil’s books were always so action packed and interesting, laced with a little bit of humor and dorkiness. Not to mention, Phil’s characters were always gay, which was hard to find in the library in 2008. As expected, he read the whole thing in one night and absolutely loved it. The day after, he spent hours trying to learn about the author. Sadly, Phil was quite shy about his appearance and he never let himself behind a camera. Nobody knew what he looked like or what his life was like. Aside from the obvious speculations from his writing that perhaps he was gay, there wasn’t much out there about him. Dan was thrilled when he found out there would be a new novel each year, essentially falling in love with an author for one reason and one reason only - his novels seemed to speak directly to Dan Howell.

As he stood under the water in the shower, he thought about spending the weekend re-reading a few of his novels. Maybe revisiting the first, just in preparation for the new one. God, how lame was Dan Howell? Rereading the same series of books over and over again.

That’s what you get when your best friend is an author you’ve never met.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, preparing for a weekend of hot cocoa and Phil Lester.

“You mean to tell me, that you did literally nothing this weekend? You just read some stupid books?” Louise teased. She always told him that he took a healthy thing and turned it into the most unhealthy hobby in the world. Reading was supposed to expand the mind, however, by rereading the same novels and practically memorizing their entire plot line, he was only turning his mind to mush. Or so Louise said. He knew she was kind of right, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was Phil trash number one and nothing could change that.

“I had fun. Is that what you want to hear?” Dan mocked as he tied his black apron around his waist. “You told me to have fun and that’s exactly what I did.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I know,” Dan admitted, not even trying to argue.“You were the one who gave me the days off. I didn’t ask for a weekend out on the town!” He playfully pushed her and she sighed. “Now if you’re done judging my social life, then how about you tell me about the new guy?”

Louise looked at him with slitted eyes, clearly not finished with the conversation they were having, but her eyes softened a moment later when it seemed she remembered their new employee.

“Oh, he’s a sweetheart. He was very nice. I’m sure you two will get along,” she praised, wiping down the counter they stood behind, getting the surface ready for some snickerdoodles.

“Ah, he’s nice. So is my mom’s dog,” Dan rolled his eyes. “Come on, Louise! How old is he? Is he tall? Does he have purple eyes and a seven-foot beard? You have to give me something here!”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. He’s coming in at 11:00,” she teased, sticking her tongue out. So this was revenge for the wasted weekend. Dan knew Louise’s game. Dan glanced at the clock. It was 7:30. “Besides, I’ll leave the getting to know each other part for you to figure out. As long as he can make coffee, sweep the floors and work a register, I don’t care what he does in his spare time. I didn’t ask.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m your boss.”

“I know. And every day I’m getting closer to the day I quit.”

“You’ll never quit Howell. I think you would die if you had to leave this place.” Louise’s tone was laced with a tone that wasn’t there before. She was a mother to a child named Darcy, a beautiful young girl who had golden locks like her mother. Louise was used to being protective and protective she was. She mothered Dan as much as she mothered her own kin, so sometimes, when she talked about his future and he mentioned he wanted to work at The Brew Bean for another ten years, she always tried to convince him to do something else. Something more worth his time. But Dan, as usual, would roll his eyes and tell her that it didn’t matter. Money is money and he liked serving coffee. He was more at home in this coffee shop than he ever felt anywhere else. “Now go take the chairs off the tables before we open at 8:00 or I will make you quit today.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The hours inched by slowly. The usual morning rush hit them a little earlier than they were used to. Mondays were rough for everyone and usually, a cup of Joe will do the trick. Dan was making pot after pot while Louise worked the register. Once business slowed, Dan cleaned the tables for the next lunch rush as he prepared another pot for himself and the new guy, who would be coming in any minute.

“I’m gonna go sit in the back and read. Let me know when I’m needed for training,” Dan announced, once all of the post-morning rush chores were done. Louise raised her eyebrows while she counted their tips for the morning in an effort to tell Dan it was fine. It’s not like he didn’t do this every day or anything.

Dan cracked the weathered spine of the book he’d read at least 30 times over, skipping straight to his favorite scene in chapter 13. It was his favorite after all.

Striker’s blade had dulled and the wind was picking up. Most would say that he was at a disadvantage, however, he knew that nothing could stop him. He was being fueled by something impossible to dull. The feeling of a full heart and the ghost of a pair of lips on his own. He sat beside a tree that was twisting up to the heavens. Something about the knots in the trunk told Striker that this tree was ancient. His grandmother, a rumored psychic, told him that old trees were good luck on an adventure. Stroking it gently, he looked at his reflection in the sword. His own blue eyes seemed rather dull, like his blade, in comparison to the brown eyes he was just looking into. Even though Samuel was worlds away, it was like he was right beside him on this quest for-

“Dan!” Louise called from the front. Dan startled a little, admittedly getting into the book as if it were the first time he’d ever read it. “Get out of the closet.”

Dan cringed. He knew it was a joke, Louise knew full well that he was gay and already out of the closet, but every time she needed him, she said the same five words. He only hoped that nobody heard her.

He closed the book, not needing a bookmark because he knew exactly where he was, and slid it on the shelf next to the pile of boxes he was just sitting upon. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, sighing and pulling his lanky body from the quiet of the storage closet. As he walked towards the front, he heard a chipper Louise talking to someone.

He rounded the corner and tried not to gasp.

His new co-worker was tall. Nearly as tall as Dan himself. Nobody was as tall as Dan. That was a feat. He walked slowly as to not draw attention to himself and observed from afar for a moment. The boy had black hair, styled exactly like Dan’s but flipped, the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen, a baby pink mouth with teeth that were only a little crooked when he smiled and a little endearing hunch that made him look like he was always ready to greet you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he nodded along to whatever Louise was saying.

Whatever Louise was saying, was actually about Dan. “…he always just sits in the back and reads his stupid novels. That boy is obsessed with this one author, I don’t remember who-”

Phil’s eyes turned and met Dan’s, who’s mouth quivered up into a smile. He wasn’t nervous, just a little shocked that someone this pretty wanted to work for The Brew Bean in the first place. Louise turned around and her smile brightened.

“Ah! The man himself! Dan, this is Phil. He’s your new grunt,” She winked and referenced the word he used yesterday and Dan’s cheeks went a rosy pink. Great. Now Phil thought he was an asshole. He extended his hand for a shake and Phil’s soft warm one found it.

“Hi. I promise I said that in the most loving way possible,” he tried to claim. “And your name is Phil? That’s funny. One of my fav-”

“As much as I’d love to witness the construction of you two’s friendship…” Louise started, receiving Dan’s little smirk and the roll of his eyes clearly, “We have a lunch rush to prepare for. Dan, why don’t you show Phil where everything is?”

“Sure.” Dan smiled and nodded, giving the new guy a look of ‘I swear you’ll get used to her’.

He watched Louise walk away and Phil’s eyes land on his own. He considered finishing his little fun fact but then realized that this guy wouldn’t care that his name was the same as some random author of Dan’s adolescent years. He silently thanked Louise for interrupting him in the first place.

“So it’s all pretty self-explanatory. The coffee machine is there, we have different roasts so as long as we rebrew one when it’s out, we should never really run out of coffee.” He pointed to the two coffee makers on the left with the green lids. “These are decaf. Make sure not to mix the two up, because trust me when I say Mr. Jenkins will be angry if he doesn’t get his morning caffeine.” Dan laughed a little at his own joke, thankfully Phil followed and chuckled as well. “This is the register, I’ll teach you how to use that later. It’s pretty simple. You just basically punch a bunch of numbers and hope the drawer will pop open.”

Phil followed him back towards the storage area and opened the closet door.

“This is where we have extra bags of coffee, cups, dishes, and anything that can be stored without a fridge. Then the cold stuff goes in the fridge up front,” he closed the door and walked around to the dish station. “And that’s where we clean shit. But hopefully, they won’t make you do the grunt work today. Despite what I said.” Dan smiled and crossed his arms. “That will be my job tonight.”

Phil laughed and looked at his feet while nodding.

“That is the floor. We clean it once a day,” Dan smirked. “Don’t look at it too closely though and definitely don’t eat anything that drops on it.”

“Noted,” Phil said, removing his eyes from the floor and meeting Dan’s. Dan looked around to see if there was anything else he needed to show Phil, eventually leading him back up front.

“So I guess you’ll be shadowing me today then.” He looked around for Louise and saw no sight of her. She was most likely in the office sorting out schedules. Now that there was another human on board, she would have to remake their usual schedule. “Have any questions?”

Phil looked contemplative for a moment and then he shook his head.

“Great! Making my job easier,” Dan said as he slumped back against the counter. “So.” He pushed his lips into a straight line, giving his dimple a cameo. “What brings you here, Phil?”

For what seemed like no reason, Phil’s face fell and it looked like he was struggling with something to say. Dan’s eyes expanded slightly as he tried to figure out why that question would warrant such a response. He was good at small talk because that’s what he did all day. Nobody has ever made a face like that when he asked that. Usually, the answer is “a cup of Joe” or “I have some time to kill.” He supposed that Phil’s answer would be different because he was an employee and not just someone coming in to buy a coffee.

“Sorry, you don’t have to-”

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck,” the guy said, his eyes finding Dan’s again, the light somehow lesser than before. “But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan frowned. “Well that’s a bummer, what do you do?”

Phil looked like he was about to answer when the sound of a string of bells signaled the presence of a customer.

“Hold that thought.” Dan swiveled and faced the register, his mouth turning up into a smile as he greeted the young lady. “Hi! Welcome to The Brew Bean. What can I get you?”

After paying for two coffees and insisting her date was on his way, she went to sit down by the window.

“Not sure why everyone who shows up alone needs to insist their date is on the way. I don’t care,” Dan laughed, directing this comment at Phil who also chuckled. He got a mug from the cart beneath the machines and poured the woman her coffee. “You want to bring it to her?”

Phil nodded and took the coffee. Just before Dan let go, Phil’s arm wobbled a little and he almost lost the cup completely. Thank goodness Dan was still holding on.

“Woah. You got it?” His eyes crinkled with the question, his teeth showing in a friendly smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to balance like five cups at a time. It doesn’t take long to become a coffee juggler.”

Phil flashed him a worried glance, something Dan read as ‘I’m too clumsy for that’ and as Phil walked slowly to the table with the coffee, Dan knew he read right. This guy was going to break some mugs. Dan could tell.

Surprisingly, he made it to the table no problem, smiling at the woman and striking up a little conversation. Dan couldn’t hear much but he admired the boy’s charisma. He seemed to really like to chat, especially with strangers. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe Louise would finally get off his back about the reading thing if he could make a little work friend while he was here.

“He’s a cutie, isn’t he?” Louise popped out of nowhere and made Dan jump. They were both watching Phil explain something to this woman who was laughing hysterically as Phil waved his arms around in front of her. Dan didn’t even register that he was nodding. “Don’t think I missed your little heart eyes. Something tells me you find him attractive?”

“Shut up…” Dan said, but he didn’t mean it. She was right. She was always right.

“It’s a good thing he’s single,” Louise piped in. Dan’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“How do you know?” he asked as Louise just smiled.

“What kind of questions do you think I have to ask during an interview?” She said, a mischievous tone in her voice now. “I need to know if there are any outside factors that might affect a work schedule.”

“You’re terrible! Who let you open this place in the first place?” Dan asked, his cheeks returning to the normal shade after a dangerous thought he had about his brand new co-worker.

“I don’t know. But don’t tell me you didn’t want to hear that,” Louise waggled her eyebrows at him and he shook his head, turning away from her and towards the coffee maker, checking to make sure it was still hot. “Maybe you should ask if he wants to get coffee sometime.”

Dan shook his head.

“Mmhmm, yeah, sure. Hey, Phil, I know we both work in a coffee shop but how would you like to go get some coffee with me sometime?”

“I would love to,” a voice that was certainly not Louise’s answered behind him. Dan spun around and his wide eyes met Phil’s dazzling blue ones. He blinked a couple of times, forgetting the question he just asked and then smiled, trying to cover up how startled he was. “Unless that question was meant for another Phil…in which I’ll just leave you to it.”

Dan huffed out a laugh and nodded. He thought about the other Phil in his life and bit his lip as he imagined what it would be like asking that Phil out. This Phil was far less scary.

“No, no. You’re the right Phil,” he smiled brighter, promising to kill Louise later, putting his nerves aside. “I have to close tonight. Why don’t you stick around and we can do coffee before we both leave?”

Phil beamed and he nodded.

“Not gonna lie, I thought it would take at least a few weeks for you to ask me out,” Phil smirked, his tooth finding his own lip and his cheeks flushing a little. “Plus, I’d love to get to know you. All I know is that apparently, you’re a giant nerd.”

“Louise…” Dan cursed, his hands landing on his hips. “It’s true. I am. But she makes it sound so lame.”

“She said something about Mario Kart expansion packs…?” Phil teased. “Please tell me she’s not direct quoting here?”

Dan rolled his eyes and let out a familiar laugh.

The rest of their shift ran pretty smoothly. Phil stuck to Dan’s side like glue, his eyes intently watching as Dan did everything. Lucky for Dan, he was rather confident about his barista skills. He’d been doing it for long enough anyway. Phil or no Phil, he always did his best to please every customer.

He kept himself talking about the job, explaining to Phil what his duties would be once he actually started, giving him instructions as he went about his daily tasks. He also shared some stories about some of the customers he’s had to deal with in the past. He warned Phil about the regulars, telling him that some were a nightmare and would be able to tell if their coffee didn’t have exactly four sugars.

Louise left around 5:00 pm, leaving Dan and Phil to close the store at 8:00. Usually, on a Monday, they didn’t get many people after 7:00 and Phil was a huge help with the closing duties. They pretty much put everything away except for one coffee machine that they left up and running and one table that they planned to sit at for a bit after they closed.

“I think we can probably flip the sign now. I don’t think anyone else is coming in,” Dan said as he checked the clock on the register. “Will you do that for me? Lock the door and all that?”

Phil nodded and saluted him, his eyes bright and his smile warm.

Dan hadn’t really thought about the ‘date’ he was about to go on, but he smiled when he realized how cute this man was. His mind was on training, not romance, but now that they were nearly done, he was starting to get nervous. He hadn’t been on a date since secondary school and although this was usually something he would be stressing out about, there was something about Phil that seemed so familiar and bright. Comforting to the degree that Dan wasn’t really scared at all. He had the confidence to train the man, how hard could going on a date really be?

When Phil skipped back up to the counter, instead of going around it to where they had been standing all day, he put his elbow down against the wooden bar and leaned against it. “Hello. I would like to place an order for two coffees, one for me and one for my date who…” Phil turned and looked towards the door. “Is on his way.”

Dan tried not to smile, but he couldn’t not laugh at that. He raised his eyebrows and tried really hard to give Phil a look of disappointment for doing exactly what that lady had done before, but it just looked fond.

“Sure thing,” Dan responded, sighing and getting out two mugs from beneath the counter. “But for future reference, I don’t care that your date is on his way. That’s none of my business.”

Phil frowned playfully.

“Excuse me sir, but I am a customer!” Phil role-played. “I deserve your full respect. In fact, who’s in charge here!? I’d like to speak to them, please!”

Dan couldn’t believe he was going through this right now. Not even Louise would pull this little game and Dan was loving it.

“I’m in charge here. And unless that date of yours is coming from inside the building, it seems the door has been locked,” Dan teased. “Looks like you’ll have to drink both coffees by yourself.”

Dan placed the two fresh coffees on the counter in front of Phil and he smirked down at them.

“Well…” he hesitated and gestured toward their soon-to-be table. “Now that I don’t have a date, care to sit?”

Dan grinned. God this man had a way with words. No wonder Dan found him so attractive. He loved a man with a fanciful imagination.

“I guess you’ve left me no choice.” Dan gave in to the fake argument and nodded his head once to signal the win. “Why don’t you sit down. I’ll bring you your drink.”

Phil stared at Dan for one more moment with a touch of light behind his eyes, only to turn and stride towards the last table that was set up in the dining room. Dan watched him for a second before grabbing the two cups and following him over to the seat that Phil had kindly pulled out for Dan.

“Why thank you,” Dan played along, sitting his ass down and waiting for Phil to sit across from him. When he finally sat, their eyes made contact and the two just broke into laughter.

For a whole minute, they laughed, Dan’s head ending up on the table. This guy was amazing! They got along so well it was almost unbelievable. Here’s to hoping the date goes as well as their shift did.

“So Dan,” Phil said, sipping his coffee with tentative lips. The coffee was hot and Phil was no doubt doing this for comedic effect.

“So Phil.”

“Tell me. What is a man like you, doing in a place like this?” Phil asked, Dan’s threshold for cheesy questions was usually pretty low, but for Phil, he’d allow it. “Maybe I should start with asking how old you are?”

“Twenty-three.” Dan got the easier answer out of the way while he thought about a better answer for the first question. “And I’ve lived in Manchester for about four years now, I’ve worked here for just as long, and I like it here so I see no reason to leave.”

“That’s fair,” Phil added. “It’s a nice place.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose your job,” Dan guessed, smirking as he did. He wasn’t touching his coffee just yet, knowing how hot it was when it first came from the pot.

“No seriously. I could have chosen anywhere to work and I chose this place for two reasons. 80% of the reason was that I love coffee more than life itself, but I can assure you, 19% of the reason was for the aesthetic,” Phil said proudly.

“And the leftover 1%?”

“The barista was pretty cute.” Phil’s tone deepened when he said it, his eyes flashing Dan with a little bit of mischief.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” Phil nodded.

“So you’ve been here before?” Dan asked, curious how he missed such a beautiful man. The place was small. He worked every day. He was sure he would have noticed someone like Phil.

“Months ago…” Phil traced circles on the table in front of him. “I have been kind of stuck at home the last few months…working.” He sighed. “I used to come here with my mother. But she hasn’t…made it down here in a while.”

“Well maybe now that you work here, she’ll stop by!” Dan smiled, finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip.

“Maybe…” Phil looked like the little touch of sadness had flooded behind his eyes again and Dan wished only to make it go away. He changed the subject.

“So you know I’m a nerd. Am I looking at another nerd or is it just me?” Dan asked, hoping to lighten the conversation. It seemed to work as Phil kind of chuckled.

“Are you asking if I have any Mario Kart expansion packs you can borrow?”

“I’m asking for a friend.”

Phil laughed.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd,” Phil admitted. “Okay…maybe I’m a huge nerd. But don’t tell Louise because I see the way she talks about you and your ‘reading’ hobby.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, what did she say, that I’m turning my brain to mush with all the books I read?”

“Well, not those words exactly, but yes. Something of the like.” Phil smiled compassionately at Dan. “For the record, I don’t think reading is a waste of time. It’s a great way to escape.”

“Exactly!” Dan was glad that Phil wasn’t going to judge him for his reading habits. He didn’t need another person to criticize him for his one and only hobby. “I don’t have a lot of-” Friends. “…social obligations. So I spend a lot of time reading.”

“I totally understand. I’m the same way,” Phil’s eyes were soft and understanding. Dan wondered what kind of books Phil liked to read, but he felt like that might be a strange question to ask, especially when he didn’t know Phil all that well.

“Well, I hope you won’t find it offensive if I’m off reading while we wait out those slow days. I would bring a book too if I were you. You’ll probably need it and Louise doesn’t like us using our phones on the job.”

“But she lets you read?” Phil gasped. “Shocker.”

“She’s a strange one…if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Phil nodded. “But she seems sweet.”

“She is.”

There was a moment of silence while they both sipped their coffee, enjoying the sound of an empty coffee shop. Dan looked out the window and noticed how dark it had gotten and he fought a yawn. He wasn’t tired, but usually, he was well on his way to his own apartment by now. With very little friends, he didn’t have much of a reason to stay up late. He was generally in bed by 12:00 am at the latest. After having a cheeky scroll through the internet or playing a bit of Guild Wars by himself, he clocked out rather early.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked while he was thinking about his apartment.

“Are you asking me to take you home? And on the first date as well?” Phil pretended to be appalled at the boy’s forward question. Dan’s cheeks became flushed and he hoped the low lighting would hide the color.

“N-no, I just didn’t know if you lived far or-”

Phil seemed to realize his flustered behavior and corrected himself gently.

“Sorry. I was joking,” he laughed it off. “Yeah, I live a couple blocks away.”

“Oh. You’re closer than I am. I have to take a bus. Or else I have to walk about 30 minutes,” Dan said, suddenly realizing that he had missed the last bus and he was going to have to do that walk tonight. He didn’t mind as it was pretty nice out, but he wasn’t necessarily planning on having to account for that this evening. “I was closer when I went to school at Manchester.”

“You went to Manchester?” Phil’s face lit up. “What for?”

“Law.”

Phil’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Dan to get it.

“I know, I know. I don’t look like a lawyer.” He put his head in his hands and shook it. “That’s why I dropped out.”

“Ah.” Phil nodded, without following the one syllable reaction with a question like why or will you ever go back? That was nice of him.

Dan could feel this conversation going in a direction he didn’t want it to go to, so he changed the subject again by asking about Phil.

“So how old are you, then? Because if I had to guess, I would assume like, 24.”

“Wow! Thanks!” Phil exclaimed, his hands clasping together. “I’m 27. But I hope I stay looking young forever!” He leaned in closer to Dan. “I’ll tell you a secret if you want.”

“Shoot.” Dan leaned in to meet him. Their noses were only inches apart and Dan’s eyes flicked down to Phil’s lips. He hoped Phil hadn’t noticed.

“My grandmother was a psychic…” Phil started. “And she looked young until the day she died. She always said that her psychic powers transferred down to me. I’m hoping the ‘looking young’ thing also runs in the family.”

He leaned back in his chair and Dan slowly leaned back into his. His eyebrows furrowed. He swore there was something familiar about that secret, but he didn’t quite know where to pin it.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dan said. “That your grandma was a psychic, I mean. A lot of people don’t believe in that stuff.”

“I do.” Phil said, far too quickly. “Most say I have quite the imagination.”

“Me too.”

“You must. Especially if you read as much as I’m getting the impression you do,” Phil assumed, giving Dan a shrug. “Let me guess. Fantasy is your genre?”

Dan’s smile grew.

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” Phil was slipping the last of his coffee into his mouth, tilting his head back to get it all from the mug. “Plus, I know fantasy. Fantasy and I are great friends.”

Dan laughed at the way Phil phrased that. It’s funny because he always said the same thing.

It was then that he decided it would be worth sharing a little about his hobby. He could trust Phil, right? He wouldn’t make fun of him. Not if they shared the same friend.

“You know what’s funny?” Dan asked, anticipating that Phil would want to know what he was silently chuckling about a moment before.

“Hm?”

“I have this author. One that writes this amazing series. And at this point, I’ve read his books so many times, that I would consider him a friend,” Dan laughed at himself. Saying it out loud made it seem so childish. Like he fostered some imaginary friend in his mind that he talked to when he was alone. “His writing just speaks to me. As if it were written directly for my ears…er…eyes.”

Phil was looking at him with curiosity.

“God, I wish I had readers like you…” Phil said quietly, his eyes going to his lap.

“Huh?”

Phil paused for a moment and then returned his gaze to Dan, his smile not quite as full as it was only moments before.

“I dabble a little in the writing department,” Phil spoke slowly like he was being careful with his words. Like he was embarrassed to admit this secret. Dan’s eyes lit up.

“You do?”

“Yeah…but I don’t have nearly the following as it seems your favorite has,” Phil said sadly. “That’s actually why um…” He cleared his throat. “Why I had to get another job. My books aren’t selling as much as I wish.” He laughed a little at himself. “But who’s books are, right?”

Dan was looking at Phil with concern. He looked like he was hiding something. Something deep beneath the surface. Something behind the blue eyes and the pristine personality.

“To be fair, the series I’m into isn’t even that popular. I just…really love the writing and the stories are just…” Dan looked up to find the words. “So captivating.” His cheeks felt warm as if his body was rewarding him for praising his favorite. “I can’t stop reading his books. Over and over and over again.”

Phil nodded and looked at his empty cup. Dan hoped he wasn’t making him feel bad. He didn’t want Phil to feel like his books weren’t good enough. He didn’t want Phil to think that Dan wasn’t interested. Instead of changing the subject this time, he decided to ask what he thought might brighten Phil’s mood.

“What uh…what’s your last name? Maybe I can check out your books sometime. I’m sure you’re a really great writer! I’ve been reading the same books over and over again. So maybe it’s time I find some better material,” Dan joked, knowing inside that nothing could ever come before his favorite author. But if it made Phil feel better, if it made Phil’s smile come back, then it was worth the trouble of at least peeling back a cover.

“Oh, uh, Lester,” Phil mumbled, his eyes darting out the window as if he was embarrassed to speak his own name.

Dan’s face paled.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

There was absolutely no fucking way.

Not a chance

The Phil sitting across from him, the Phil he had been training all day, the Phil he was currently on a date with…was the Phil that he had been gushing over since he was 17.

No fucking way.

This Phil was the same Phil who invented the most captivating series Dan had ever read.

This Phil was the same Phil that built a world of dragons and demons and all sorts of creatures that Dan only dreamt of learning more about.

This Phil was the same Phil that had been his best friend when nobody else had wanted to be.

This Phil was the same Phil that was now looking at him with concern written all over his face.

“Dan?” He asked, probably noticing how pale Dan had gotten and how his hands were shaking as they held the mug.

“Uhhh-…I uh…I need to…hangononesecond,” Dan muttered, getting up and scooting his chair with a loud screech. “Berightback.”

Phil looked alarmed as Dan darted back behind the counter and out of sight so he could have a moment to breathe. This was certainly not how he expected to meet his idol. Not this casually at least. He opened the storage closet and sat on the box that had dented from his earlier sit. He took a number of deep breaths as his eyes landed on the little blue and green book that was tucked onto a shelf beneath the spare cups. His shaky hand reached for the tattered book, the first book he ever owned of Phil’s, and he flipped through the first few pages.

He could not believe this was happening.

But at the same time, it made so much sense. Phil was actually the spitting image of his character. Striker was described as tall and raven-haired, his skin pale and his eyes blue. Dan had always assumed that Phil modeled the character after himself but it didn’t click until now how much Phil looked like the character he had fallen in love with.

He felt stupid now.

However, as much as he wanted to sit and hyperventilate until Phil eventually left him, he figured it would be rude to leave him with zero explanation. So with eight more deep breaths, he hugged the novel to his chest and left the closet for the second time that day. This time, with much less confidence.

He reappeared behind the counter where he could see Phil slumping in the chair and stirring Dan’s coffee with a spoon. He looked confused and possibly a little offended. Dan’s heart hurt knowing that he had done that to his favorite author.

He walked over and sat back down, the book falling into his lap where Phil couldn’t see it and he watched as Phil looked up at him with the most confused expression Dan had ever seen on another human being.

“I don’t know much about you Dan, but does that happen a lot because if it does I need to be prepared for next time you-”

“Phil.” Dan’s words came out so quietly. He was saying Phil’s name. Phil Lester’s name. Holy shit. This was a lot to handle. He was surprised he was even able to speak at all. In his dreams, the ones where he met Phil, he could never talk. Not even in his dreams did he had this opportunity.

He decided that words weren’t even his best plan of attack. He had no idea what to say or how to explain, so he just got a firm grip on the book with his one hand, pushed his coffee cup out of the way and then slowly brought the book up to the table. He placed it down gently, watching as Phil’s eye actually twitched.

He stared for a long time. A longer time than Dan had taken to himself in the closet. Dan wasn’t going to question it, but Phil looked like he was concentrating very hard. He seemed to be piecing things together in his mind. He was most likely taking in the age of the book, the weathered condition, the many many doggy ears on the corners, the coffee stains on the sides, the destroyed spine and the book’s presence in the first place. All these things could tell you one thing and one thing only. Dan fucking loved that book. If this was the same Phil that Dan had grown up reading, he was getting that impression and Dan was so damn nervous.

Then Dan froze. He had been subtly watching Phil watch the book and Phil, who was sporting a rather blank expression, was now tearing up and a drop of salty water hit the table. Dan would have gasped if he didn’t think the noise would break the man before him.

Phil’s tears only multiplied and suddenly, Dan was staring at a 27-year-old genius who was crying on a date. Who the fuck knew Dan’s evening would go like this?

After a significant period of time, Dan spoke up. If only to make this less awkward.

“Phil…are you uh…okay?”

Phil slowly raised his eyes to Dan and a smile formed on his quivering lips. “Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry I’m just thinking…” His voice was weak and trembling, his eyes filled with light once again. “…thinking about the things you said about-” He pointed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my books.”

Dan blinked. No way. Phil was an amazing writer.

“Do…do you really do that? R-read my books over and over again?”

Dan nodded like it was second nature. He couldn’t believe that was a question that Phil even dared to ask. Of course, he did. Phil Lester was his absolute favorite.

Phil nodded and he sat for a moment more before standing up abruptly and staring at Dan. Dan blinked up at him and smiled. The best smile he could. Before Phil came at him with a hug. He practically pulled Dan out of his seat and up into a standing position where Phil could embrace him into a warm and appreciating hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Phil mumbled into Dan’s shoulder, his lips moving against Dan’s collar bone. “You don’t have any idea what that means to me.”

Dan didn’t know what to say, so he mumbled an “of course” and rubbed Phil’s back gently.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that fate worked out this way!” Phil’s smile was back and he was gripping Dan by his biceps, his whole entire face glowing. If Dan hadn’t just seen the tears, he would have assumed that none had been shed that night. He blinked a few times and he nodded. “I have met my biggest fan!”

Dan blushed.

“Imagine how I feel…” he stammered, glancing down at the book on the table. Phil’s smile fell from his face, but not in a bad way. He just seemed to realize the gravity of this situation from Dan’s eyes. Then he broke out into a laugh.

“Oh my Gosh! You’re dating your idol!”

Dan blushed even more.

“That is…” Phil’s cheeks colored. “That is if I get a second date?” He bit his lip. “Usually, when people cry on first dates, they don’t get a call back…”

Dan tried to glare at Phil but it just turned out to be a look of fondness, one he’s been shooting Phil all day.

“I don’t know…a chance to spend more time with Phil Lester?” Dan pondered aloud. “Not sure if it’s worth it…”

Phil playfully pouted.

“I know how we can find out if it is worth it!” Phil grinned, his face up to no good.

Dan was about to ask when Phil stepped closer, his body flushing up to Dan’s front.

No.

No way.

Then Phil did the unimaginable. He leaned forward and connected his lips to Dan’s and Dan felt like his whole body exploded. He had no idea what happened. His eyes shut and bright colors filled the black that he usually stared at when he closed his lids over his brown eyes. Phil’s lips felt like an escape, much like the pages of the books he wrote. Dan was lapping up the warmth when Phil gently pulled away, a smile reforming on his perfect lips as he touched his nose to Dan’s.

“I knew I’d find a Samuel one day…”

Dan’s stomach dropped to the floor and Phil laughed.

“Come on, we have a coffee shop to close!” He gave one last glance at the book sitting on the table, smiled brightly and then he picked up the coffee cups. “I’ll go wash these. Why don’t you clean off this table and we’ll lock up.”

Dan could only nod and he picked up the book, his mouth still open with delight.

He was not convinced that the past 12 hours had actually happened. He was not convinced that he was actually ‘dating’ the Phil Lester he had wondered about when he was young. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t had dreams like this. Granted, he didn’t know what Phil looked like, but the version in his head was modeled from Striker and it was scary how close to the real thing he had gotten. Weird images of past dreams flashed in his head and he couldn’t express how long he had wanted to be Striker’s Samuel.

But now…now he had it better.

He was Phil Lester’s Dan.

He could not even fathom what kind of luck he must have had to achieve his one and only dream. Not only to achieve it - meeting Phil Lester - but surpass it - dating Phil Lester.

What a world he lived in.

“You ready?” Phil asked as he broke Dan from the spell he was under. He was staring out at the dark street in front of the shop while Phil ran and made sure all the lights were off. Dan nodded and reached for the key that Louise had given him a few year back so that he could lock up without her. He locked the front door behind him and turned to face Phil.

“So…” Dan started, it suddenly dawned on him that he’d have to leave the boy here and walk in the other direction. Not to mention, he had about 30 minutes to walk by himself and he was kind of dreading it. All he wanted was to lay down on his cheap twin bed and think about the evening he had just had. “I guess I’ll see you…next time you work?”

Phil blinked back at him, as if tiny little cogs were spinning in his head.

“How far did you say you lived from here?” Phil asked, glancing up the street.

“Oh uh…like 30 minutes. I usually take the bus but…” Dan’s voice trailed off as he gestured to the abandoned street and the flickering street lamp.

Phil was silent for a moment and then Dan was watching as he stepped closer.

“Call me crazy…but I don’t really like the idea of you walking all of that way.” The words tumbled from his mouth as he didn’t break the eye contact that Dan was holding so dearly. “I know it’s only the first date, although you have technically known me for years, what do you say about coming home and spending the night on my couch?”

Dan blanked.

“It’s only a couple blocks and I have plenty of room…” Phil convinced, bumping his shoulder into Dan’s.

It’s not like this night could have gotten anymore fantastical. He might as well. Phil could have said anything at this point and Dan would have blindly followed him. So he nodded and Phil’s face lit up for the millionth time that night.

“Swell! Well, let’s get going then!” Before Dan could say anything else at all, Phil clutched Dan’s hand and started dragging him in the direction of his place. Dan blushed severely and listened to Phil talk about the how much he loved the city at night.

When they arrived at Phil’s place, Phil unlocked the door of the tiny townhouse and he creaked it open. He turned to Dan and his face went very somber, if only for a moment.

“Make sure you’re quiet. I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ll explain once we get into the basement,” Phil instructed. If this was some stranger, Dan might have considered this sentence as a red flag. But this was Phil. Of course, this would be completely normal.

He followed Phil through the house and when the basement door shut and they were officially downstairs, the light flicked on and Dan could immediately get a peek at Phil’s life. The life he knew nothing about until today. It was surrounding him. The blue and green sheets on the bed matched the blue and green on the cover of Phil’s first book, his desk in the corner was exactly what a writer’s desk might look like - with crumbled pieces of paper littering the floor and everything, the walls were covered in posters of great movies and awesome music, and there was even a little lounge where it seems Phil liked to sit and play various video games on the systems that Dan could see sitting pretty under the TV.

“You like my bachelor pad?” Phil laughed, walking over to the tiny fridge and getting Dan a bottle of water.

“I do…” Dan responded, not even considering that Phil’s question was most likely sarcastic.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Phil exclaimed, flopping himself down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Dan could feel his feet moving to go sit next to him as he looked around the giant room some more. “I was going to move…but some uh…some plans changed and now I’m kind of stuck here for a little longer.”

Dan didn’t ask because it didn’t seem Phil wanted to explain, but he nodded in response and took a sip from the water bottle he was given. His eyes landed on the Wii that looked to still be on and he nudged Phil.

“Wanna play some Mario Kart?” He wasn’t even considering how late it was or that he was going to have to be at work the next day at 7:00 am. He just wanted to play Mario Kart with Phil and if he was tired tomorrow, he would just have to deal. Not to mention, he’d be waking up on Phil Lester’s couch.

Phil agreed and confirmed Dan’s theory about the Wii still being on when he turned on the TV and a screen full of characters appeared before them.

“I was playing before I left for work today,” Phil admitted, laughing when it showed that he was about to select Bowser. “But I bet you already assumed that.”

They started a race and Dan kicked Phil’s ass. But Dan could admit, Phil gave him a good fight. Dan was just really really good at Mario Kart. With all his ‘free time’, he played plenty and he was unusually savvy with a Wii remote.

“Alright, alright, you beat me fair and square,” Phil gave up after playing about 17 rounds and losing each one. After every single round, he begged Dan for a do-over and insisted that it was “all or nothing.” Dan was too good though and each time, he made it over the finish line before Phil could even catch up.

It wasn’t until Phil switched off the TV and there was silence in the room that Dan realized how close they were. Dan was leaning up against Phil - leftover from when he was trying to mess up the older boy with a jolt to the arm, and Phil’s arm was overlapping Dan’s shoulder. Dan wasn’t complaining and when Phil turned his head to face Dan, it seemed he made the same realization.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Phil said, his cheeks getting pink. “I really needed someone like you in my life right now.”

“Th-thanks?” Dan said, hesitant to take a compliment. He’s the one that should be thanking Phil.

Phil was silent for a moment while it looked like he fished around in Dan’s eyes. Then his eyebrows went up and there was a small smirk resting on his face.

“Okay. Clearly, we are going to have to talk about the elephant in the room. I don’t want you throwing those googly eyes at me every second. Please, ask me what you want about my books now so that we can put this weird little fangirling thing we’ve got going on behind us,” Phil said, his words dripping with fondness, yet Dan was totally caught off guard. He wasn’t staring at Phil like that because he liked his books - even though that certainly played a part in it - he was staring at Phil because he couldn’t believe that a human could be this perfect. Let alone a human that was sitting with him on the couch right now. “I’m sure you have questions. With as many plot holes as there are in my books, you’ve got to have at least something that bothers you.”

Dan hadn’t thought about it much before, but it was dawning on him that Phil wasn’t really a fan of his own writing. He wasn’t as confident as the Striker in his books and he didn’t think very highly of his own talent. To Dan, this was ridiculous. Phil Lester was the best author he knew. He was the only author Dan would read and his words were like magic as they peeled off the page and into his brain. It saddened him that Phil didn’t even consider his own writing beautiful enough to promote.

Then the conversation he had earlier with Phil hit him like a brick to the face and suddenly it didn’t matter how close the two were sitting or how perfect Phil Lester was, a sentence smacked him in the front of his brain.

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck…But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan’s eyes widened and he could tell that Phil was about to ask what was wrong.

“You aren’t writing another book?” Dan blurted out, his heart stopping for a moment while he waited for an answer.

Phil’s bubbly smile melted from his face and he looked at Dan with confusion, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how Dan had guessed that. But his shaky hand reached for his collar, adjusting it with the lightest touch.

“I don’t think I can…” Phil answered slowly, not even realizing the heart-shattering news he was delivering to the boy sitting in front of him. “It’s just…I don’t think there’s another book…in me.”

Dan’s mouth had fallen open and he was just watching Phil’s blue eyes fade to gray. His face void of all color.

“So you haven’t written a book for this November?” Dan asked, not even stopping to think that maybe it was insensitive to ask such a question.

Phil sighed and his face read that it was complicated.

“Dan…I…” He avoided all eye contact. “No.” His voice trembled. “No, I haven’t.”

Dan was beyond shocked. He wasn’t mad, because how could he be? He didn’t know what Phil’s life was like and he wasn’t trying to pressure the boy, but he was really looking forward to that next novel and now that he knew it wasn’t even in the works, a part of him started to wilt.

“I’m sorry…I just don’t think I can do it,” Phil whimpered, his hands now wringing together and his eyes starting to glisten. He looked like he had just realized something while he was admitting this fact to Dan. He looked so small all of a sudden. “You’re not like…mad or anything…?” He looked down at his hands. “…cause I didn’t know that people…” He corrected himself. “…that you liked my books. And I just haven’t really been feeling up to…” Phil spoke the last word so quietly as if he didn’t want to say it out loud in the first place. “…writing.”

Dan stared at Phil and there was clearly a backstory that he was missing. He kept having to remind himself that he’d only met Phil today an that everything he knew about the guy he was looking at, was through a character that Phil had created. Although it was somewhat based on truth, Dan couldn’t just ask a near stranger why he couldn’t write another novel. It just wasn’t polite. That, and Phil looked like he was about to break. Any second.

So Dan took something out of Phil’s book, although not literally, he went out on a whim and scooted even closer to the wilting boy and reached to caress the side of his face.

“Phil…” Dan started. “I don’t care about the book. I mean…I do…but I understand. I like you. I like you a lot. And I know it’s only been like 12 hours and I know it might be crazy, but something tells me that this has to be fate…” He swallowed a comment about how cheesy he knew he sounded and kept going. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. And not just because I like your books, but because I-” He knew sharing this next part was going to be hard, but he didn’t realize that it was going to be the first time he’d said it out loud. “I’ve never really had a best friend before and something about you just makes me feel like you’ve known me forever.”

Phil was staring at him, his eyes bouncing between Dan’s own twinkling orbs and his moving lips.

“Phil, please believe me. I was attracted to you before I knew you were the amazing Phil that I knew you were,” Dan blushed. “And if it’s any consolation…I thought you were amazing before I found out.”

Phil was no longer on the verge of tears, but his eyes were full of mirth and something that Dan had never seen on a person up close before. Something specific that he had only ever read - in Phil’s books that is. Love.

Dan knew he was bordering crazy and certainly, his wildest of dreams never unfolded this way, but he took a moment to breathe in his last sane breath and then leaned forward to kiss the boy who looked to be begging for it.

Kissing turned out to be the gateway to something more. Dan had never trod this territory before but Phil was gentle and somehow a little awkward, and about 45 minutes and a hefty amount of heavy breathing later, they were lying beside each other in Phil’s bed with little to no room between them.

Even though it was only a short walk to The Brew Bean, it felt like eons. Dan was reeling about the night before, going over it a million times and then all over again. He had spent nearly the whole night beside Phil in his bed, wearing nothing but a grin and a pair of borrowed briefs. They had talked about everything under the sun. Dan finally got to ask a few questions about Phil’s books and where he got his inspiration, and Phil asked him about Uni and why he left. They were tender subjects but between kissing and kind words, the topics didn’t seem so scary for either of them.

In the morning when Dan’s alarm went off, he woke in a startle when he realized he had fallen asleep on the chest of another man. When he looked up and saw that no, it wasn’t a dream, Phil Lester was actually asleep below him, he nearly passed out again out of amazement. Dan could still feel the way the older boy stirred beneath him and wrapped his warm arms around him as he begged the younger not to leave. But Dan was opening today and he had to get the shop before 8:00 to open up. So Phil got up and stretched his naked body in the patch of sunlight that made him look angelic and then wandered off to make them both a pot of coffee. It’s not like Dan couldn’t have waited until he got to work, but Phil seemed to need it more than he did.

Dan arrived at the shop at 7:20 which was later than he’d ever been. He usually showed up early to make sure he had time to sit and have a cup before he opened the store for others, but today he would miss that. Thank goodness Louise wasn’t here to tease him about it. At least not yet.

Of course, the girl didn’t miss anything. The moment she walked it, Dan could tell she knew something he didn’t. Maybe Dan was giving off the post-coitus vibes or maybe his face said it all, but when they had a slow second, she sauntered over to Dan and gave him an all-knowing look.

“So…” Her teeth were scraping her bottom lip as if she was refraining from saying something but Dan was clearly in trouble. “How was your night?”

A docile question for the all-knowing Louise to ask.

Dan turned to her and grinned, not even trying to mask his excitement with a sarcastic comment. There was nothing about this that screamed Dan Howell. Nothing cautious or bitter. His relationship with Phil was completely out of character. In fact, it reminded him of a different character altogether and it only made since when he realized it was Striker.

“How do you think?” Dan asked, turning away to hide the blush that was flooding his face.

“I think you need to spill because I know that blush isn’t coming from nowhere,” Louise pestered, her lips turned up in a smirk. “Phil isn’t that charming. Why are you so smitten?”

Dan wanted to argue because yes, Phil is that charming, but he decided he’d rather cut to the chase and tell Louise why Phil was especially perfect for him.

“Remember those books? The ones I read all the time?” Dan asked Louise who looked positively bothered by the fact that they were coming up now, of all times, but she nodded and listened. “Well, Phil’s the one who wrote them.”

Louise looked confused for a moment as if she were doing math in her head and trying to figure out how that was statistically possible. Dan knew that it wasn’t but it happened anyway and here he’s gone and slept with the guy. But Louise could probably read that right away.

“Oh God,” she muttered. She looked actually quite horrified.

“What?” Dan asked, worried there was something Louise hadn’t told him about Phil.

“I’m going to have to hire someone else, aren’t I?”

Dan blinked at her.

“What?”

“Dan…if he really is the love of your life, as he obviously is, then I’m gonna need another person to come in for the days you both want off,” Louise explained, thinking purely as a boss and less as a mother right now. Dan opened his mouth as if he were going to argue but because it was Phil, he didn’t want to. He knew deep down that she was right. If he was later than usual this morning and this continued on like he’d hoped, he would need a few days off in the future. For both of their sakes.

“What happened to ’you need to take more days off?‘” Dan asked, teasing the woman who stood before him. She rolled his eyes.

“Well I hired someone to take your place but now you’ve gone and seduced him.” She huffed, her fists on her hips. “I meant you needed more days off with people who didn’t work here!”

Dan found that hard to argue with. Technically, she was right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Ugh, it’s fine. I’ll find someone.” She hit a few buttons on the register, going back to work. “So I’m hoping you were safe when you-”

“Louise!”

“What? I’m just making sure…” She shot him a loving glance and then walked off. He didn’t know exactly how she could tell that he had that kind of night, but if it was written all over his face, he assumed she of all people could read it. And because Phil wrote it in the first place, it must have been good.

“You’re saying you want an entire weekend and a Monday off?” Louise asked, her mouth open and her eyebrows up higher than Dan had ever seen them. “The both of you?”

It had been two months since Dan had met Phil and things were going more fantastical since the beginning. After their first night together, Dan went home after his long shift and took a shower, starting to worry that maybe he was moving too fast. But when he got a text from Phil telling him that he missed his presence and that he wished he had someone to play Mario Kart with, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. Phil was just as into Dan as he was into Phil and it happened rapidly fast. Soon, Dan barely saw his flat and by the second week, he knew that after a long shift with or without Phil, he would end up over at Phil’s anyway.

Now, at two months, they knew each other better than they knew themselves - save for a few things. Things that Dan never tried to pressure for and thank goodness Phil didn’t push for his own skeletons in his closet. Their relationship was synonymous to an adventure novel - or so Dan thought. Phil swept him off his feet and kissed him passionately whenever he got the chance. He romanced Dan’s socks off and had a way with words that only his favorite writer could possess. Their sex was passionate and loving and every time Dan looked into Phil’s glistening eyes, he knew that Phil Lester was a wonder of a man. He single-handedly helped Dan take the simplicity of his plain life and spice it up into a novel of its own.

And that’s why Dan thought he’d return the favor.

For weeks, Dan has been talking about taking Phil away, somewhere he could think and possibly get back into the hobby that made Dan fall for Phil all those years ago. Even though Dan was falling faster everyday, dare he say in love, he still longed for Phil’s writing and now that it was almost Christmas time, he wanted to give Phil the gift of a lifetime.

“It’s just three days Lou. Come on. Didn’t you just hire that new guy, PJ?” Dan nudged her side. “And plus, when have I ever asked?”

“That’s why I’m appalled,” She shook her head, but a smile was fighting its way through her pursed lips. “I hate to say I told you so but…” She looked him right in the eye. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, so can we have off?” Dan asked again, pulling Phil closer to his side, having nearly forgotten he was standing right there in the first place. Louise looked at Phil who was no doubt grinning beside him, his sunshine of a smile sure to work wonders. With a sigh and the roll of her eyes, she nodded.

“Consider it an early Christmas gift,” she grumbled, looking back down at the task she had been doing before Dan and Phil had come up and asked her. “Where are you going anyway?”

“That, I can’t tell you,” Dan teased, glancing at Phil who crossed his arms and pouted because Dan had been very clear, he was not to know where they were going until they got there. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

She looked at the two of them and shook her head once more. “You guys make me sick.”

Dan just grinned and went back to work with Phil at his side.

“I’m sorry I’m running late. I’m just figuring a few things out. I’ll be there in an hour. Sorry Sorry!” Phil said over the phone to Dan who was literally sitting on his suitcase by his front door. Excited was an understatement. He hadn’t been on a real vacation in so long. Even though it was a week before Christmas, he was excited to spend the holiday with his boyfriend.

“That’s okay. I’m keeping myself busy anyway,” Dan lied.

“No, you aren’t. Stop waiting at the door like a lost puppy. Go read a book or something,” Phil said, probably regretting it because every time he said that, he knew Dan would listen, picking up one of the few novels he had written in the past and re-reading it. “One that isn’t mine.”

Dan whined but he agreed and went to find something a little less interesting. No book could be as interesting as Phil’s.

When Phil finally arrived, he was still a half hour later than he had mentioned being on the phone. When Dan went down to meet him on the sidewalk he was prepared to playfully scold the boy but instead he was greeted with a very grim face on his beloved who seemed to be a bit out of it.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” Dan said, first thing, getting it out of the way before they even started to walk to the train station.

“Nothing…it’s just been a rough day. I’m ready for this vacation though,” he smiled, pulling Dan into his side. Dan let the warmth of his own body comfort his boyfriend who was drooping a little more than usual today.

Here was the thing about Phil Lester. Everything about him was adventurous and spontaneous, except there was this one thing. This one thing that he never told Dan about. Dan never asked but when Phil described the thing that made him late all the time or that kept him occupied for more than one day at a time, he never gave Dan the full story. He just said it was important and that he would explain later. Phil was the kind of person that would tell Dan anything but he wouldn’t tell him this. Dan knew that must mean it was a big deal. But what could be so terrible that Phil would want to hide it from Dan? Phil knew he could trust Dan with anything. It’s not like Dan had ever judged him before. Did he have another job? Some sort of illness he needed to take care of? Another boyfriend?

Dan always made sure to stop his train of thought before it got to that point because he knew that Phil was faithful to him. There was nothing wrong with secrets. Especially if they’re painful to talk about. So Dan respected Phil’s space and didn’t ask whenever Phil showed up with the sunken-in eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept or the shaking hands that suggested he had been fidgeting a ton. He just pulled Phil close and told him it was okay, understanding that when Phil was ready, he would share that part of his life.

They walked down the pavement in silence as Phil pulled himself together and Dan swung their laced hands to cheer up his partner.

He also told Phil to wait on the platform while he went and bought their tickets, just so Phil wouldn’t know where they were headed. Phil was usually the one that decided where to go, but this weekend, Dan was calling the shots. He wanted to show Phil something he’d never shown anyone. Something almost as personal as Phil’s writing was. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Phil to start writing again.

They shuffled on the train, Dan making sure Phil couldn’t see any signs revealing their destination, and then they were both leaning on each other while the train moved away from the city of London.

“Dan…is this Manchester?” Phil said as he looked out the window. They were almost to the city and he started realizing that his surprise was going to reveal itself pretty soon. Dan shifted in his seat and nodded when Phil’s blue eyes were on him. “Like…your hometown?”

“Yeah…” Dan said, a smirk on his lips. “What other Manchester is there?”

Phil chuckled and looked out the window again.

“I just mean…like…why Manchester?” Phil asked.

“Because you’ve shown me so much of your past through your writing. I want to show you mine.”

Phil turned and looked at him with his favorite glance. The one where his eyes lit up and it made Dan’s heart flutter.

But then his face changed to one of worry and Dan panicked. Had he made the wrong choice? Did he say something too forward?

“Where are we staying?”

“Um…just my house. I don’t live too far from here I-”

“Dan!” Phil’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet your parents. Oh God…” Phil looked like he was panicking and as flattering as it was that Phil was nervous about the possibility of making the wrong impression, Dan’s laugh flicked him out of his little attack.

“They aren’t there. They go on holiday every year the week before Christmas to see my Grandma. My brother is on holiday as well. Even the dog is away. It’s just us.” He reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. Phil took a sigh of relief and he allowed himself to blush. “Come on, Phil. We’ve been dating two months. It’s a little weird for me to bring you home just yet. I’m sure you’ve thought the same about your own parents.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Phil said, the dark and gloomy cloud falling over him once again. Dan hoped it wasn’t because he had insulted Phil or something. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of their relationship, he just wasn’t sure how his parents would feel about him bringing someone home after not seeing them for so long. He really had to get over that. Some people were far less fortunate and couldn’t see their parents all the time. He told himself then that he would put more effort in the relationship. Maybe he’d call them on Christmas and wish them happy holidays.

The train stopped and Dan ushered him and his boyfriend up. They were to get on one more bus and then they will have arrived at Dan’s childhood home. No person, not even some of Dan’s ‘friends’ had been to his childhood home. It was something he was rather protective about. It was where he spent a lot of time holed up indoors reading or playing Final Fantasy until he had enough and fell asleep. His brother was far too young to be a proper companion and when he really thought about it, he kept mostly to himself for a majority of his life there. Hence why the place had so much history for him. This house was his sacred place and his room was his best friend - before he started reading Phil’s books that is.

“Thanks for taking me here, Dan,” Phil said as they were approaching Dan’s front door. “I know how much of a big deal this is for you.”

“That’s okay. It’s really nothing,” Dan lied, constantly flabbergasted that Phil somehow knew exactly what he was thinking before he even had to say a word. He unlocked the door to the house and they stepped inside.

As expected, it was empty and Dan started up the stairs immediately, heading for his bedroom where he would put their stuff. Phil followed of course and instead of Dan’s innocent plan of exploring the house and showing Phil the things of the past, Phil kicked the door closed and pushed Dan into his twin bed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Phil said from above him, sharing a kiss with Dan’s eager lips.

“Oh yeah? And what else did you want to do?”

Phil smirked and their clothes were on the floor in an instant.

Their Saturday was relaxing. After their little escapade in the bedroom, Dan finally got to show Phil around. Although a lot of his things were no longer there, he explained every little detail to Phil. He even showed Phil the patch of carpet that he had his first existential crisis on. Phil laughed and they both laid down to try it. It didn’t end in crisis, however, it did end in a tickle fight.

Phil knew Dan’s other motive for bringing him here. He knew that Dan wanted Phil to get away from that big scary thing that he knew nothing about and focus on his own brain. Dan had suggested to him millions of times that perhaps the reason he couldn’t focus on his writing was that he was dealing with all the shit that came with this huge secret. So at the end of the night, when they were happily sitting inside beside a fireplace that held so many Christmas memories for Dan, Phil pulled out a spiral notebook and started jotting a few things down. Not a lot, but enough that Dan could tell Phil was making headway. It warmed Dan’s heart. So he curled up beside Phil with his little mug of hot chocolate and watched the fire in the company of his favorite person in his childhood home.

Sunday was a whirlwind. It started off nice when Dan made Phil a rock star breakfast. He found eggs and bacon and toast, brewing coffee and cutting up some oranges for his dear Phil who was still in bed and planned on being there for the rest of the day. He piled everything on a tray and they had a three-hour breakfast in bed that they always talked about. Phil looked so happy, munching on his toast and forking through his eggs. Dan couldn’t believe he was sharing this moment in the tiniest of beds with the person with the biggest heart. He was so incredulously happy.

That is until Phil’s phone rang. Dan reached over and grabbed it from the side table, handing it to his boyfriend who had a mouth full of bacon, and he squinted at the caller ID. Without his glasses or his contacts, his eyes were useless.

He picked up the unknown number and his face went pale.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand…I uh…yeah, I can…” Phil’s hand had gripped his fork in a painful manner before it dropped to the tray. “Sure thing. I’ll be there in four hours.” Dan’s eyes went wide and he looked at Phil with a piece of toast hanging from his lip. Phil was already scooting past Dan and putting pants on. “Thank you so much….yeah I’ll be there…okay bye.”

There was a moment of silence as Phil held his phone in his hand and he looked at Dan. Dan knew this had to do with that huge secret that Phil never mentioned and this wouldn’t have been a big deal if this wasn’t Dan’s first holiday since he’d dropped from Uni.

Phil looked like he didn’t want to explain but that wasn’t going to cut it this time. He couldn’t just promise whoever was on the phone that he was going to take a train back immediately without telling his boyfriend what was going on.

“Phil…” Dan took a stab at being calm and collected, even though he was beyond irritated. His bubble of bliss had just popped and now they were at a standstill.

Phil’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes getting slightly watery, but he hung his head and nodded. “I really have to go.”

Dan blinked. No other explanation. Not even an apology.

“I’ll come with you.” Dan hopped out of bed and started looking for his own pants that had somehow ended up being thrown last night. He had to admit, his tone was pretty bitter, but it was important that Phil knew he was kind of salty. Especially because he had been looking forward to this getaway for weeks. It was Dan’s Christmas gift to Phil after all. He wanted Phil to enjoy it.

“No, Dan, it’s best you didn’t.” Phil was now shoving things in his suitcase and his hands were shaking.

“We said we’d spend the weekend together! I’m coming with you,” Dan insisted, packing his suitcase as well. Phil zipped his up and took a second to stare at Dan who was furiously scrunching clothes and pushing them into his black suitcase.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Dan stopped packing and he stared at the shirt that was crumpled in his hand now.

“I can just meet you back in London,” Phil tried. “I’ll explain later.”

What the hell was so important that it turned Phil into this vague mess that just left during their personal holiday?

“No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” Phil turned around and his grip on his suitcase handle tightened.

“You won’t tell me later. You never do,” Dan said, his voice laced with some form of hurt that Phil certainly detected. “When will you tell me what’s going on?”

Phil looked overwhelmed and maybe Dan shouldn’t have pushed him. On a regular day, this didn’t bother him. On a regular day, he was sympathetic. But today, he had taken off work for this holiday and Phil should have taken off from whatever it was he did in his spare time. This was time he should have been spending with Dan.

So when Phil gave Dan one last glance of sorrow and turned around to leave, Dan waited until he heard the front door shut before he threw himself into the pillow and cried. He knew he was dramatic but this wasn’t fair. He loved Phil and he knew Phil loved him back, just not enough to keep him from leaving.

He ended up going back to London early. He couldn’t bear the idea of sitting in an empty house alone. Not again. It was just too quiet. So with his tail between his legs, he called Louise and told her that he was available to work on Monday. She didn’t ask any questions but he was sure they were coming when she told him he could come in and work his usual Monday shift. He was glad that she at least offered him a means of distraction.

He arrived at The Brew Bean with a frown and Louise shook her head, leaving the new boy - PJ - at the counter so she could chat with Dan in the back. She wasn’t interested when Dan was happy, but suddenly she wanted to know everything.

“…and he just left. He didn’t even offer an explanation,” Dan explained the whole story, his head in his hands as he sat on a cardboard box in the back. “I don’t know what to do. I love him but if this thing is more important than me, I don’t know if I can continue dating someone who leaves me so quickly for something else. Let alone someone who won’t share everything.”

Louise was strangely silent. She looked sympathetic but didn’t offer any advice until he was done moping. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed. He was on the verge of tears.

“I offered to go with him this time and he flat out told me he didn’t want me around,” Dan cried, his voice quivering. He noticed Louise’s silence and he looked up through his shaggy haircut. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

She fiddled with her yellow dress.

“I may or may not know where Phil’s always off to…” Louise spoke softly and gently, much like you would to a child. “But I don’t think I can tell you.”

“Louise!” Dan looked up at her with desperate eyes. “You have to tell me! Come on! He’s known you for two months and I’ve known you for years! Please!”

Begging was unbecoming but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

She looked unsure of herself like she was about to spill something that was bigger than both of them.

“Please, Louise…please.”

After another short moment of silence, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet the desperate eyes that blinked back at her.

“Phil’s mother is dying.”

Dan’s brain short circuited.

“She’s what?”

Louise knew that Dan had heard her and she didn’t repeat what she had just said. She could tell that it was hitting him.

“During the interview I asked him if there was anything that might get in the way of a job like this and he mentioned that his mother was in pretty bad shape, cancer I think, and he said that he has been taking care of her for a good while now,” Louise explained softly. “I think that’s why he needed the job in the first place. To pay for the medicines and hospital visits.”

“Wait…how sick is she?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. I haven’t talked to him about it since that day. I think he’d prefer nobody to find out.”

“But…but why didn’t he just tell me that?”

Louise shook her head. “I don’t know but listen, you should cut him some slack. I’m sure it’s really hard.”

Dan nodded and watched as his boss got up and pat his shoulder before walking off. He stayed where he was and reflected on everything that had happened in the past few months. All the times that Phil was late, all the times that he had to quickly run out from a date, all the times he had mentioned that things had changed a lot in recent years. He never explained the roommate that lived upstairs, he never explained the phone calls he always had to take in the morning, and he never ever talked about his parents. This must be why he was so afraid to meet Dan’s.

Part of him felt horrible. Like he had made the biggest mistake in his life. He had been rude to Phil when all he was doing was caring for his mother. He should have trusted Phil. But the other side of Dan felt hurt. Why wouldn’t Phil want to mention something so huge to his boyfriend who proved that he cared immensely? He would never judge Phil for something like this, even if it meant that Phil had a more important place to be some of the time. He wished that Phil had told him so he could have been more understanding than he was.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. He was the asshole who yelled at a man who’s mother was dying.

Something he didn’t expect was to see Phil that day. He was working the counter, handing some old man his change when the bells jingled and in came a person that looked a lot like Phil, but was clearly just a mess of tears and worry. As soon as Phil caught Dan’s glance, he looked terrified. As if he expected Dan to be in Manchester still, by himself. Dan wanted Phil to know that he wasn’t mad at him and that it was an honest mistake, but he wasn’t supposed to know about what was happening with Phil, so he couldn’t explain. He just smiled and watched as the boy hesitantly walked up to the counter.

“Hey,” he started, his eyes wavering with contact.

“Hey,” Dan answered, his hands fumbling with the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry…” Phil said, his voice broken and battered. He had done a lot of crying, clearly, and with the urgency in which he left Manchester, something terrible must have happened. Dan wanted to tell Phil that it was all okay and that he was totally right for leaving, but instead he just untied his apron, walked around the counter and to where Phil was standing, engulfing him in the tightest hug that he could manage. Phil’s conscious brain might not have understood why, but his body did. It folded when Dan’s chest hit Phil’s and the older boy was now racking with sobs. Last week, this would have been startling behavior, but this was completely okay and Dan knew he needed the support. Even if Phil wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Hey…shhh…it’s okay, Phil,” Dan hushed, whispering in the older boy’s ear while he combed his fingers through his hair. “How about I take you to my place and we cuddle for a while?”

Dan had never invited Phil back to his place. He had no reason to. Phil’s place was much closer and the bed was comfier. But Dan had the inclination that Phil might not want to go back to his own place and when the suggestion was made, Phil stilled before nodding slowly.

“Let me just let Louise know, okay?” Dan said, gently breaking them apart and finally taking in the full vision of Phil standing before him. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn the day before, his shirt wrinkled and his hands hanging lower than usual. Dan was careful not to jostle him as he stepped backward. He flashed him one more glance that told him to stay put, and then turned rather quickly to find his boss.

“We’re almost there,” Dan mentioned as he stroked Phil’s shoulder on the way to his flat. The bus was a lot quieter in the late afternoon than it was around lunch time and Dan was secretly thankful they missed the rush. Phil did not seem together enough to handle the chaos that was London during break hours. In fact, he was getting startled by every little thing. He clearly hadn’t slept and his nerves were acting up.

Phil nodded in response to Dan’s mention, but his head barely moved. Dan thanked the Universe that he even noticed.

They got off the bus and Dan led his boyfriend up to his flat, not even thinking about the state it was in. He hadn’t cleaned in ages. Granted, he never really stayed long enough to make much of a mess. He was sure that aside from the clothes on his bedroom floor and maybe a few books out on the coffee table, his place was in perfect order. The layer of dust over everything wasn’t visible and Phil probably wouldn’t notice. At least not today.

“Here, I’m going to get you some water and you can go lay down…” Dan said as he locked his front door. Phil was silently taking in the place he had just entered but he turned to Dan with thankful eyes. “My bedroom is the door at the end of the hall…” He pointed and spun his broken love around. “I think I made the bed…”

Phil shuffled back to Dan’s bedroom while Dan fixed him a glass of water. He probably hadn’t had anything proper to eat in the past 24 hours so he snagged a granola bar as well before heading back to see Phil.

If not under these circumstances, he probably would have taken a picture of what Phil looked like right then. Even at his worst, Phil was still beautiful. He was curled in on himself with his head on Dan’s pillow. His eyes were shut and his hands were delicately resting beside his face. Dan wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a situation like this, but he placed the glass of water and the granola bar on the side table and he walked over to the other side of the resting boy. He climbed into the bed and like a big spoon, encased Phil into his arms. Phil was awake enough to shuffle himself into Dan’s embrace and Dan took that as a good sign. To Phil’s knowledge, Dan knew nothing about where he had gone.

Even in the state he was in, Phil could still read Dan’s mind. He had been quiet for so long that his voice pierced the air like broken glass on a concrete floor.

“My mum has Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer…”

Dan’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t a medical professional but he didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the words metastatic and cancer were bad news. His arms tightened a little around Phil but he said nothing, letting the other boy continue.

“…at the end of July the doctors said it reached stage four and that means she only had…” Phil swallowed. “…only had six months left and-” He nearly swallowed his own words. “They called yesterday and said she might not make it through Chri-”

Phil couldn’t finish. His breaths were shallow. His heart was beating so fast that Dan was sure it might explode there in his arms. Dan was shocked. He knew cancer was bad and that it was painful for everyone involved, but this seemed impossible. Phil was a hero. No wonder he hadn’t written anything in so long. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it.

They laid there in silence for what felt like hours. It could have just been minutes but Phil’s body never stopped trembling. Dan was letting his hand run through Phil’s black hair and his chest was pressed as close to Phil’s ribcage as physically possible. He hoped that his heart could beat strong enough for the both of them.

They fell asleep like that, Dan thought, because a few hours later he was being awoken again by a meek voice that was no louder than a whisper.

“Dan?” Phil was right next to his ear and Dan blinked his eyes open.

“Hm?” He instinctively hugged his boyfriend tighter and smiled into his hair.

“I love you.”

Dan was definitely not expecting that string of words right now but he didn’t care. He had been dying to hear them. Ever since they’d met. Call him crazy, but Phil was the one.

“I love you too, Phil,” he responded quickly, knowing how scary those words could be sometimes. “Are you okay?”

Phil nodded and he cuddled himself into Dan’s embrace just a little bit more. Dan wouldn’t let go until Phil was ready to be let go. And if that was never, well, then the two would rot here on this bed until his landlord dragged them out himself.

Dan called out of work for the both of them that next day because he wanted to be with Phil and Phil clearly couldn’t be anywhere else. He had gone on to explain how painful it was to be at home when his mother was in the hospital. Apparently she was just admitted, right before they had left for their vacation. That was why it had taken so long for Phil to meet Dan that day. Phil had to fill out more paperwork than he thought. Poor Phil was probably thinking about it the entire time they were away.

Phil also explained that his mother had progressed into her illness very rapidly. She was apparently just fine only two years ago. This made Dan’s heart lurch, especially because he didn’t talk much to his family. If anything made him feel guilty, it was hearing that something like this could happen, and quickly too.

He sat with Phil in bed all day, listening to him talk out the things that were probably trapped in his own head for months and months. Phil was spilling out the details of the treatments and the words doctors had thrown his way. He spent some time telling Dan about his mother and how kind and loving she was. He told Dan about all the great things she had done and all his childhood memories. Dan didn’t even know the woman, but he was sad to lose her. Apparently his dad had died a long time ago and Phil didn’t remember much about him. He explained that he was glad because he really couldn’t handle two premature parent deaths.

Once Phil was all talked-out, Dan was feeling rather sleepy. This was partially because he had stayed up much longer than Phil the night before, making sure that he was okay. Dan was still curled up next to Phil when his eyes started to flutter. He just barely got a glimpse of Phil pulling out a little notebook from his jacket pocket and clicking his pen before he drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

“Dan!” Phil woke his boyfriend with a bigger smile than Dan had seen on Phil all week. This alarmed him as he jolted awake and into awareness, looking at the boy before him with big, red, crusty eyes. “Dan I did it!”

Phil looked like he hadn’t slept a wink but he didn’t looked pained. He actually glowed. He looked like he was actually proud of something. Like he had done something that Dan would be proud of.

“Did what?” Dan rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking into Phil’s lap where he found a little notebook that held at least twenty pages of scribbles. The corner of Dan’s mouth went up when he realized what Phil was about to tell him.

“I have an idea for my next book! I wrote out an outline…” Phil gestured to the many pages of scribbles that Dan didn’t want to read because he genuinely didn’t want spoilers, but he did look up at Phil’s sparkling eyes that had regained a little light, and he let the crinkles next to his show.

“I’m so proud of you!” Dan praised, meaning every word. This must have taken a lot of creative energy but as Phil had explained, writing was his outlet and maybe because he let out some of the stuff that was floating around his head for so long, he was able to make room for the creative flow. “I get to be the first to read it when it’s complete, right?”

Phil nodded, understanding that he was dating his biggest fan and of course he wouldn’t be allowed to release it without his boyfriend’s blessing.

“I really like this one actually…I think…” Phil blushed. “I think you will too.”

Dan gave him a glare that meant 'of course I’ll like it, you wrote it,’ and then grabbed the proud boy in his arms, attacking him with kisses.

“Did you stay up all night to write this?” Dan asked after kissing Phil at least 23 times, a lick of concern leaking out of his tone.

“Yeah, and you’re really cute when you’re asleep, did you know that?”

“Shut up…” Dan tried not to smile but it came through. Phil was acting like Phil again and he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He knew that Phil struggled to keep his bubbly personality, even through everything that was going on, but this seemed genuine. He seemed like he was being himself – for the time being at least. “Want some breakfast?”

“Sure. What are we having?” Phil asked.

“Well, unless you want to eat moldy toast and expired jam, I think we have to go out,” Dan stretched his arms above his head and Phil took advantage of the slight sight of tummy, tickling it and blowing a very sloppy raspberry. Dan giggled and in retaliation, he ended up blowing a raspberry on Phil’s lips, only leading to a very heated make-out session that ended in morning sex.

Pancakes always did the trick, or at least for Phil. Phil had had bad days before and Dan knew the remedy was always pancakes and coffee. Although it wasn’t really the healthiest meal to eat after barely eating anything, it was something and it would keep Phil’s tummy the way it was – nice and plump – for Dan.

“So tell me about your new book.” Dan put his chin in his hands and leaned over the table like some lovesick puppy. “Does Striker go on another adventure and take down an evil horse-lord.”

Phil laughed and shook his head. He had a chunk of pancake in his mouth so he held a finger up and told Dan to wait.

“No, no. Not another horse-lord. Horses freak me out, remember?”

“Yeah. I do. That’s why it was evil,” Dan answered, smirking. “Duh.”

“You really are Phil Trash #1.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Phil, we’ve been over this. I probably know your books better than you do. Come on, spill. What’s Striker doing next?”

“Well if you know my book better than I do, then you should know,” Phil teased, pointing his fork at Dan. “And you don’t really want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

Dan sighed. Of course he didn’t. But getting Phil to talk about his passions was one of Dan’s favorite things and since he’d met the older boy, the passion had not been writing. This was the first they had talked about it in weeks. Dan wanted to know everything he could if Phil was willing to chat about it.

“Okay, fine, just tell me this. Is Samuel in this one?” This was a very cheeky question and Dan asked it with a knowing smile. At this point, Dan knew that he was Phil’s muse for Samuel. Even though the books were written before Phil met Dan, it was like Samuel was perfectly molded to be Dan. Not to mention, at the end of the last book, Samuel was officially invited to join Striker on his newest quest. So Dan and Phil both knew Samuel would have to be a giant part of Phil’s next book. And if Striker was Phil, then Samuel was Dan and if Dan was being honest, he was excited to read how Phil wrote Sam in the next novel.

“You’ll just have to wait and see…” Phil alluded, his smile revealing it all.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

But they both knew that’s not what they meant.

They were walking back from their little breakfast place when Phil’s phone rang in his pocket. As soon as Dan heard the ring, he tensed up. The last time he got this call, Phil left him without any explanation. He hoped it wasn’t the same kind of call but at the same time, he hoped that if it was, Phil would at least fill him in.

They stopped in the middle of the pavement and Phil dug the device from his pocket, his hand visibly shaking as he answered it.

“Hello?” He stared at anywhere but Dan as he listened to the person on the other end. His face gave nothing away as he nodded and released a few quiet 'mmhmm’s, Dan nearly dying of curiosity. But then Phil hung up and he finally looked at Dan with tears in his eyes.

So it was that kind of call.

“Phil…if you need to go, you ca-”

“Come with me,” Phil said, his voice breaking.

“What?”

“Come with me,” Phil said again, stepping closer and grabbing Dan’s hands. “Please. I…I don’t want to do th-” He stopped, looked at his feet and then back into Dan’s eyes. “I can’t do this alone.”

Dan nodded and suddenly they were briskly walking down the London street. Thank God they were within blocks of the hospital and Phil wasn’t subject to an entire bus ride of anticipation. It was still rather early in the day for Dan to be walking this fast, but for Phil he would do anything.

They arrived at the hospital in under ten minutes, the nurse at the desk giving Phil a nod of understanding when he walked right past. This made Dan sad because that must have meant that Phil had been in here an awful lot for the nurse to recognize the man.

Phil walked the white hospital halls, Dan trailing behind, as Phil navigated the place like it was his home. Another thing that made Dan’s heart clench. He could see the way the staff looked in Phil’s direction, a glance of sympathy here and there, every now and then a nurse would mutter a “hello” or a “good to see you.” This made Dan very uncomfortable. He wanted to be there for Phil but he wasn’t sure he was built for a place as grim as this.

Phil finally stopped at a door that was closed, taking a deep breath and swiveling on his feet toward Dan.

“You uh…don’t have to come in…if you don’t want,” he offered, but his eyes told him he did, so Dan shook his head and smiled.

“If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Dan was already here. He might as well commit.

Phil responded with a weak smile and he nodded, letting go of Dan’s loose grip and reaching for the handle.

There was no experience, movie or book, that could compare to what he saw in the room they entered. Phil walked in slowly and carefully and Dan did his best to mimic his partner’s steps. When he finally got a glimpse of the hospital bed and the woman in it, he almost cried himself. The woman was frail and thin, something you would expect from an older lady, but this was Phil’s mum. She couldn’t have been older than 60 and yet she looked like she had lived ten lifetimes. Her closed eyes had sunken in and turned purple, the bone of her nose nearly poking through the weathered skin, and her lips barely had any color at all. Dan was sure that if this woman had any resemblance to Phil, it was long gone now. Her fingers laid still on her chest and her breathing released a slow hiss when it left her nose. Tons of little wires went from one device to another, some spitting liquid in and from the body on the bed. It looked like she didn’t even notice, her somewhat peaceful sleep was deep and most likely medically induced.

Dan shot Phil a glance that meant more than comfort. He tried to tell Phil that he was so sorry. So sorry that this was happening. So sorry that Phil had to go through this tragic process.

“M-Mum?” Phil’s voice shook when he spoke, as if he would break her fragile ears with his tender tone. He sat himself in the chair that was clearly there for him and him only, grabbing his mother’s hand with the softest of touches. “Mum can you hear me?”

Dan wasn’t about to say anything at all, but he wondered how conscious his mother actually was. Phil hadn’t told him much about her state and how lucid she was at this stage of the cancer. He watched and was actually a little startled when his mum’s darkened eyes opened slowly in Phil’s direction.

And that’s when Dan saw the resemblance. She had the same eyes. Blue and bright and full of life. Dan’s heart sank when he realized that Phil had once seen her when she mimicked this trait all over. Her heart monitor beeped, signaling a change in pace.

“Oh Phil…honey…” Her voice was like rust on glass, painful to listen to but impossible not to hear. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mum. I’m really good,” Phil answered, his voice broken and his lip was quivering.

“You look like you haven’t…” She took a breath. “…slept.”

“I have. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Phil looked down at the hand he was holding, the frail and boney one that was nearly half the size of his own. “I’ve brought someone today that I’d like you to meet.”

Dan froze.

“His name is Dan and I work with him,” Phil explained, reaching for Dan who was standing as far out of the way as possible. “Come here, Dan. Come meet my mum.”

Dan smiled and inched toward’s Phil and his mum who was now turning her head an inch so that she could see him. Her face that was looking so dearly at Phil, mustered an expression of joy when her eyes landed on Dan’s features.

“Why he looks just like Sa-” She coughed, nodding and letting it pass. “Samuel.” Phil laughed a little, the blush on his face prominent. “Are you sure you didn’t write him yourself?”

Dan didn’t know why it hadn’t dawned on him before. Of course Phil’s mum read Phil’s books. She was probably a bigger fan than Dan was. And she most likely knew that Phil was Striker. So this was not just a reference to Phil’s novels, his mother was calling him out as his boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lester,” Dan bowed his head a little and she seemed delighted. “I’ve heard so many great things about you.”

“Are you taking good care of…my son?” She asked, her breath running short towards the end of the sentence.

“I sure am. Don’t worry,” Dan nodded. He wasn’t lying. Phil was in the right hands. At least Dan hoped he was.

Phil’s mum turned back over to Phil and she closed her eyes.

“Phil…” She breathed, the monitor alerting everyone that her heart was slowing. “Phil I like him.”

Phil was smiling but there were tears rolling down his cheeks and he was wiping them as fast as he could with his other hand. The blue of his eyes seemed to pop when the rest of his face was so red.

“Me too, Mum…me too.”

“I love you so much, Darling…” She coughed. “I lo-” She coughed again, her hand grasping at her chest.

“I love you too, Mum…I love you so much.”

Dan felt like he shouldn’t be here for this moment. Like he had walked in on an extremely intimate scene that he was not supposed to witness. But then Phil glanced at Dan with eyes brimmed with tears and he knew he had to be here. Phil needed him now more than ever so he sat in the chair next to Phil’s and rubbed Phil’s back as he talked to his mother.

“Promise me…” She breathed. “…you’ll keep writing.”

Phil nodded, his thumb rubbing over his mother’s withering hand.

“Don’t cry, Dear…” She reached up with her shaky hand, wiping a tear from Phil’s cheek. “I want to see you s-…” Her hand dropped to the bed. “…smile.”

“Mum-” Phil started, his voice breaking.

“Please, Philly. Smile for me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. It sounded like a gust of wind that could be words if you really listened.

Phil could do nothing but wipe his tears with his jacket sleeve and he smiled for his mother who watched with a faint smile of her own.

“You have such a beautiful…” A cough escaped her lips and it was barely a puff of air. “…smile.”

And that’s when it happened. Phil’s mum’s heart monitor screeched with a signal of what Dan assumed was the end. Phil’s mum’s eyes had closed and her hand fell limp in Phil’s grasp. Phil’s smile, as forced as it was, was long gone. All that was left were heart-wrenching sobs that filled the room while the nurses came rushing in. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done and Dan could only watch as Phil broke down on top of his incredibly beautiful mother.

Wearing a suit and tie was usually reserved for fancy events. Events that required a little sultry and grace. But a funeral was the only event that made a suit look drab. Dan fixed his tie and glanced at his appearance in the mirror. Most joked that his wardrobe was much like a walking funeral but when it came time to actually mourn the death of someone close, it never felt that he was comfortably dressed.

He left his apartment and took a cab to Phil’s. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with strangers asking why he was dressed up. It wasn’t even his mother and he felt like it was too personal.

Phil had cried for hours after they left the hospital. He was a wreck and Dan couldn’t blame him. He had been close with his mother and losing her was probably the most painful thing he could have ever imagined. But Dan was there for him, if not only because he promised Phil’s mum, but because he loved the boy and it hurt him to see Phil this way.

But Phil’s brother had flown in to be with Phil before the funeral and Dan hadn’t seen Phil in two days. Phil had explained how his brother was a very busy man who ran multiple companies and four separate websites. He didn’t have a lot of time to come visit their mother, but apparently if he had known she was in such bad shape, he would have come sooner. Phil didn’t blame Martyn for any of it, he just needed someone there to talk him through all the paperwork. Someone who might know what to do more than Dan would. Martyn sounded like he was collected and organized – the perfect man for the job.

But today was the funeral and of course, Dan was going to be next to Phil the entire day. He couldn’t imagine the pain that Phil was going through. If he and his presence at a morbid event cheered up the love of his life, then he was there in a heartbeat.

Funerals always felt like they lasted forever and with Phil sobbing on his shoulder during the entire ceremony, it was a wonder he had the energy for the post funeral reception that was apparently occurring at Phil’s house.

Dan had learned that Phil’s mum did indeed live with Phil. Her room was on the main floor and that’s why Phil was pretty much secluded to the basement. Unless he needed to cook or leave the house, he had everything he needed down there. It made perfect sense that the reception would be held around all of his mother’s objects. This way, the family members could all gather and collect what was most important to them.

Dan, however, did not expect to lose Phil halfway through the party, only to find him curled on his bed, much like he had been curled on his own only a week and a half prior.

“Phil…” Dan said, his softest voice activated, his tone no harsher than a child’s. “Phil are you okay?”

Phil shook his head and Dan swallowed.

“Aw…come here.” Dan collected the broken man into his arms and he could feel his heart pound woefully in his chest for the weeping man. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I’m so so sorry.”

Phil cried into Dan’s leg for some time, his tears threatening to ruin Dan’s suit, but that was the least of his worries. His one goal was to give Phil everything he needed today. Today and forever.

But hiding in the basement could only last so long when you’re hosting a reception. Eventually, the two were called up for a family meeting that Dan was allowed to sit in for. It was basically just Phil, his brother and a few of his cousins, there to discuss the contents of Catherine’s will. It was extraordinarily uncomfortable for Dan, and Phil didn’t look like he was enjoying it any more. But Dan was there for him and that was what mattered.

When it was time for everyone to leave, Dan said goodbye to Phil and trusted that Phil’s brother would take care of him for a couple days. His brother was staying for a little while – or only until Phil felt like he could handle himself. Dan didn’t want to leave, but he figured it was best. Phil needed the time with family.

But that proved to be one of the biggest mistakes of Dan’s life.

He kissed Phil goodbye and then headed back to his own flat where he got a good night’s rest. He sure as hell wished he had known that would be the last one for a while.

“He what?” Dan asked Louise as she stood before him a couple weeks later. “Did he tell you why?”

“He called and quit. That’s all he said. Dan, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t seen him,” Louise said, her voice full of sorrow.

Dan had been trying to reach Phil for two weeks now and the boy hadn’t even turned on his phone. Christmas had come and passed and the new year had begun. Phil’s phone had gone straight to voicemail each and every time. He messaged him on Facebook and got nothing. He even tried contacting Phil’s brother who told him he had left a day after the holiday. Phil was MIA and Dan was starting to get worried.

He wasn’t proud, but he ended up going to Phil’s house that night and he knocked for a full hour. He got nothing. Not even a shuffle from inside. He even went down to Phil’s window in the basement and knocked on that for a while. But there was nothing.

Dan sulked back home, walking the entire way with a sinking feeling.

With updates every now and then from Phil’s brother, telling him that yes, Phil was still alive, Dan went a month and a half without seeing him. He continued to work at The Brew Bean because he needed the money for rent, but he would go home with a frown each and every day.

The worst part about all of this, was that he couldn’t even read his favorite books. Even Striker was no comfort to a loss like this.

Dan understood why Phil needed his time away. Mourning someone was an excruciating process that Dan couldn’t even begin to understand. He had never lost anyone so dear in his life. But Dan was a person as well and even though his pain was nowhere close to Phil’s right now, he felt as though he was mourning a Lester as well. Phil had left his life so suddenly and with every ounce of his being, he wanted to comfort his soulmate from the destruction he was surely facing.

Their relationship was like nothing he had ever experienced. Such passion and adventure was something he only read in Phil’s novels and now that he had a taste, it was painful to think he might never take another bite again.

“With passionate romance came tragic heartbreak.”

A quote that Phil had coined himself in his third book. The only one Dan could bear to read right now. It was all about Striker’s struggle with being away from Samuel. If only he could read the other side. The one where Samuel is left at home while the love of his life is battling demons.

Much like Phil was doing now.

One month turned to two and one day while he was running a very simple yet important errand, his eyes caught a beautifully decorated gold and black book that rested on the “New Releases” pile of Dan’s favorite bookstore. It wasn’t every day that a book actually fit his aesthetic. He sauntered over to it and his eyes nearly popped from his spinning head.

This was a new novel written by nobody other than Phil Lester.

Dan had never bought a book that fast. He contemplated stealing it but that wouldn’t be good for Phil’s sales. He practically ran to the nearest restaurant, he didn’t even care that it was a fancy one that only served wine and overpriced cheese, he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu and turned the book over so he could read the back.

Striker gears up for his next adventure, this time with his trusty companion Samuel. But when disaster strikes in his own backyard, Striker finds that first he must slay the demons inside him before going out and tackling everyone else’s. How will Samuel help Striker on this more than personal adventure of the heart and soul? Can Striker save himself and Samuel from what dwells beneath the skin of his own flesh? What happens when Striker is taken over by the hideous monster inside? Will Samuel be able to save him or will the job prove too much?

Dan could not believe what he was reading. Not only had Phil produced a book in only two months, it had a much different vibe than the rest of his fiction. This one was dark. Even the book itself screamed it’s morbid nature. Phil was crying for help and this book was the start of Dan’s ability to help.

So he cracked the spine of the book and started to read.

Once the book was finished and he tipped the confused waitstaff an enormous amount of money for sitting at the same table for 5 hours, he was out the door and running. Dan couldn’t even remember the last time he ran. It must have been back when he was still in school and his teachers had forced him. But as his hair flopped about and his desire to reach the author of this stunning book increased, he let his pace match. He ran past people and objects and couldn’t even care that his legs burned from the use. He must have ran two miles at least, his forehead beading with the sweat he shed.

When he reached Phil’s residence, he was out of breath and clutching the novel to his chest. He didn’t care how long it took Phil to come to the door, he was coming outside and they were going to talk. Dan was not going to give up that easily.

“Phil!” He knocked loudly with a strong fist. “I know you’re in there! Please! Open up!”

There was nothing, as expected, and Dan just kept knocking.

Soon, he was sitting on the stoop like some sort of crazy human being, knocking at the bottom of the door like it was life or death.

When night fell and dark had cascaded against the London city, he sat clutching the book and contemplating everything. He opened the book to the last page and read the last paragraph again, gaining some comfort from Phil’s words - as always.

Samuel took a breath and cut the head from the last demon, saving Striker once and for all. His lover lied beneath him with a breathless gaze. Samuel had saved his life. He owed everything to the man that was now collecting him in his arms.

“Thank you…” Striker mumbled, his heart beating faster and his lips drawing closer to Samuel’s.

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own, Striker…” He spoke softly and kindly, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder. “But don’t worry. I’ll be here and we can tackle them together.”

Dan hummed in appreciation and he let a few tears fall from his eyes. He knew Phil was miserable without him. If this book was anything to go by, he needed Dan more than Dan thought.

“Please, Phil…” He knocked at the foot of the door a few more times with his swollen fists. “Please, Phil. Let me in.”

As if Phil sniffed Dan’s desperate pleas, the ones right before he would inevitably give up, the lock on the door shifted. Dan was a fool and jumped, getting startled by the sudden change. He scrambled to his feet and kept the book tight against his pounding chest as if it would contain his beating heart.

And when Phil finally opened the door, Dan’s heart melted. He was just as beautiful as Dan remembered – not like that could ever change – but the blue had mellowed from Phil’s eyes and there was something so foreign about his gaze. Dan couldn’t tell if it had changed or if he just couldn’t remember. But either way, Dan wasn’t ever leaving Phil’s side again.

“Hey…” Phil said, his voice quiet and his glance pleaded for Dan to forgive him. If Dan knew anything about Phil, it was that he felt bad about the pain he caused anyone. He probably knew how painful it was for Dan to stand here and see Phil for the first time in two months. He probably knew how painful it was to leave Dan. Because he was dealing with the same pain right now. Dan could see it in his eyes.

Wasting no more time, Dan unclenched the book from his chest and held it out for Phil to see.

“Will you sign my copy?”

Not even he recognized his quiet voice and when Phil saw his hesitant smile, he let one escape his lips as well.

“I’ll do you one better…” Phil reached inside and grabbed something from the table next to the door. “How about the original draft?”

Dan’s chin quivered and the tears were rolling down his cheeks when he saw what Phil had done. On the front of the stack of papers, Phil had taken a red pen to the title: “Samuel and Striker’s Adventure Within” and replaced the names to Dan and Phil.

He stepped inside, not even waiting for an invitation and he grabbed Phil by the waist, connecting their lips. He didn’t even care when he tasted the salt from their tears combined. This was where he belonged. Right by Phil’s side. No matter what.

“Phil?” Dan pulled away, still merely inches from his boyfriend’s lips, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Hm?”

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own.”

#dan and phil #phic #fanfic #phanfic #fic request #fluff #angst #character death #tears #sad #merrydith #worksofphiction #thank you anonymous

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