#so seeing the financial aid part be so absolutely bullshit after finally FINDING IT is uh. infuriating:)

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

My favorite part of fafsa is where it doesn’t even ask you if your family is going to contribute, it just assumes they will, and then spits out a total bullshit number based on that 🙄

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Days 276-280

December 13-17 Maybe I just haven't had too much to say lately, or maybe I have just been hit with the one-two punch of ennui and busyness. We were supposed to leave yesterday for our trip to North Carolina, so I spent several days getting ready for that. The only thing worse than trying to get the house set up for a trip of several weeks in length is doing it knowing that people are going to come in while we're gone. I was able to put off the pest control people by telling them we were quarantining, which had the advantage of being absolutely true, but it also gave me extra time to clean the kitchen and the bathrooms which were the places they wanted to spray. Thank god we don't actually have bugs, those sprayings are much more invasive. This time I didn't have to empty out the cabinets or anything, just clean stuff. So a lot of time the past few days has been spent packing and cleaning. I even got down on my literal hands and knees to wash the kitchen floor. (My kitchen is so small that it doesn't make a lot of sense to use a mop.) It looks nicer now than it has in ages, tbh, just in time for us to be gone. Those pest control folks had better be very impressed. I also did more advanced planning for this trip than I usually do, packing my yarn bags and the toiletries kit several days in advance instead of my usual strategy of throwing in anything that is around on my way out the door. I was so proud of myself! Even my suitcase looks nice, everything folded and in the right place, and with the straps on to make sure it doesn't shift around too much.  Then Wednesday rolled around  and we didn't go. See it turns out that Kiddo had a standardized test to do that afternoon, the MAP test for those of you who follow such things. I cannot begin to express what kind of bullshit it is to make the kids do  standardized tests in a year like this, but it is what it is. We could've just ignored it, but I want to take the kiddo to the sea island where my folks spend the late winter for a little bit in February, and we will be better positioned to do that if we don't piss off the school too much with absences. Wednesdays are supposed to be asynchronous learning days, ideal for traveling, but instead we'd have had to stick around until nearly 3pm before heading out for a six and a half hour drive. Couple that with a gnarly winter storm weather forecast and we elected to push the trip forward by a day.  It was the right decision, but it did mean that the kiddo missed a partial day since my hotspot could not keep up with streaming his classwork once we left. He was there in the morning though, and that's when they take attendance. I made sure he did his homework. Tomorrow is the last day before break anyway, I doubt they were piling too much new stuff on. We had a brief scare when the car threw us a "bad key" error as we were trying to leave, but got it resolved and made excellent time with only one stop along the way. There was a lot of traffic! I listened to the entire soundtrack of 10 Things I Hate About You, my favorite 90s nostalgia album. Every song a banger, I tell you what. Anyway, we arrived about an hour before it started to snow, and early enough so that we could help MIL get into her book club Zoom meeting, so that was good.  Man, computers have really been a thing this week. The Red Cross rolled out a new system for getting people hooked up with services and emergency funds after a disaster, and it is _fucking awful._ It is so, so, so bad. It went live on Tuesday, and wouldn't you know it, Tuesday night I had my first call of the week. It wasn't a great call to start with, not a lot of information, some of it thirdhand, fire department no longer on scene. It's the sort of call where I would usually have to do a little extra poking the system and maybe make a couple extra calls to get everything perfect, but where it wouldn't be too big a deal. But because I marked one checkbox incorrectly on one page of this 25 page one-way flow, the system wouldn't let me set up the financial aid and it wouldn't tell me what was wrong or how to fix it.  I had to apologize to the client and tell him I would call him back because I had to figure out what was wrong. Figuring out what was wrong required contacting my coordinator, who three way called me with our area leader, who eventually put me into a Teams meeting via phone with two of her supervisors, while one person in that meeting simultaneously connected to the national watch floor so somebody could give us some goddamned technical support. (I tried calling the new tech support hotline, but they said they couldn't help me and I'd have to talk to my supervisor who had told me to call them in the first place.) So this all takes about an hour, which is actually pretty fast given all the moving parts involved and the fact that nobody knows shit about this one-day-old system, but is a long time when you have just had a fire and have young children and no place to stay. Finally, about a zillion steps up the Red Cross food chain from me, somebody is able to access the system and do the required approval (I had put a 1 instead of a 2 in what was apparently an extremely important box), and the financial assistance went through. I was able to help the client and it turned out okay, but it was HORRIBLE. I have done another call and talked to several people since then, and none of us can find one thing that the new system has made better, only things that are worse. It sucks. At least I go off shift for the month tonight.  Anyway, that was my week, but we finished our quarantine and now I am in North Carolina and that is good. MIL is happy for the company and Victoria and Tanika the cats have not tried to kill each other yet, and it's nice. Tomorrow we pickup groceries and try to get a Christmas tree, which are in short supply this year. But for now, rest! 

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay - Chapter 13

Yes! It’s finally here!! After literal weeks of me writing and revising!! After a lot of writer’s block!! After deleting like half of it and then rewriting it!! It’s finally here!!! Enjoy!!! @dansyellowshirt

Tags for chapter: fluff, themes of verbal abuse, protective!phil, some angst

Words for chapter: ~4.6

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan was not happy.

In fact, he was fucking pissed.

When he and Phil had finally parted ways, Dan had walked into the coffee shop in absolute bliss. The shop looked to be in the process of being half-open when he entered, most of the lights being on and the self-serve bar already filled. Jaime wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Dan could hear the sounds of someone moving in the back. They were probably out of cups again.

While he waited for Jaime to resurface from the supply room, Dan tied on his apron and pinned the name-tag to his chest. He was starting to set the register for the day when he heard steps behind him and the closing of the heavy supply door.

"Jaime, you'll never fucking believe what the hell happened, I-" Dan started, turning around to face his best friend with a huge grin on his face. Jaime wasn't the one to stumble out from the supply door, though, and Dan could feel his happy mood shatter as none other than Steve surfaced, accompanied with an impossible amount of things in his arms threatening to spill over any second.

Instantly, Dan's smile crashed and his heart dropped to his toes. Fuck….where the hell was Jaime?

"Would you stop staring and give me a hand? It's bad enough that you're late to work anyways." He grumbled, his frown already deepening. It was like Dan's presence was just...sucking the life from him.

Dan could say the same.

He didn't immediately move to help due to equal parts of reluctance and utter surprise at seeing his prickly coworker instead of his Jaime. He jerked into action however when a bag of coffee grounds decided to kamikaze off of the top of the armload of things Steve was carrying, scooping it up before it could touch the ground and depositing it onto the counter.

"Oh, that's all you can carry, huh?"

Dan turned, a scowl on his face that matched Steve's perfectly.

"Sorry, but I was a little thrown off to see you here instead of Jaime. You could have just taken a second trip, you know."

"Yeah, and you could have just shown up when you were supposed to. Besides, Jaime said she told you we were working together, so that's bullshit."

Dan wanted to scream and they hadn't even opened already, one, because of Steve's asshole attitude, and two, because Jaime didn't tell him, but he just clenched his jaw and turned back to the register. He could pull a shift with Steve without knocking the guy's teeth out, he's done it before, he can do it again.

Maybe with a miracle, Dan thought as he heard Steve stumble through starting the many coffee makers, grumbling to himself and making a mess that Dan would surely have to clean up.

He was restocking their supply of change in the register a few moments later and feeling a tad bit better about the situation—assuming they would both be able to just keep to themselves the whole shift—when something was thrown in his direction, hitting the side of his head and making Dan drop all of the coins in his hands onto the floor in surprise. The coins scattered in every direction and Dan swore loudly, looking up at Steve with murderous eyes, one hand coming up to his temple where whatever Steve threw at him had hit, even though it hadn't particularly hurt. Steve met his gaze with a mildly surprised expression—complete with a raised eyebrow—and shrugged.

"Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I can't help but notice your...well, hair. I don't think my uncle would want his business represented like that, so, put the hat on."

Dan glanced down to see one of the coffee shop employee hats crumpled on the ground. They were only required to be worn to pull an employee's long hair back and were otherwise completely optional, so Jaime and the other part-time girls that worked here were the only ones that really bothered with them. Dan flicked his gaze back up to Steve and glared with all of his might, trying to just murder the guy with his eyes.

"I've never had to wear one before I don't see why I have to now." Dan ground out, his jaw clenched.

"To my knowledge, Daniel, you've never decided to dye your hair before, so I guess this is a new experience for all of us." He responded, his voice dripping with distaste.

"What about Jaime's hair, huh? You've never said anything to her about her dyed hair so what's the big fucking deal with mine?" Dan shot back, his temper rising faster than he would have liked. His anger flared even further at being referred to as Daniel. Steve knew perfectly well that Dan didn't like his full name.

"She wears a hat, does she not?" Steve quipped.

Dan narrowed his eyes, but he didn't really have a smart-ass comeback for that because she did, it just wasn't because her hair was more red than a cherry was, but because of its length.

Not that Steve would fucking acknowledge that, though.

"Exactly." Steve said after Dan didn't immediately respond. "Put on the hat. And stop swearing."

Dan was about ready to explode, but this asshat's uncle was his boss and owned the whole damn shop and Dan barely had enough money as it was working as much as possible on a decent pay grade, so he really didn't need to get fired and have to work at minimum wage at some grocery store. Not to mention he would have to move or work roughly nonstop to pay his bills at that much of a pay cut.

So in the effort of his future, Dan bent down and picked up the hat, fitting it over his straightened hair with as much distaste as he could manage. Steve smirked and turned back around to continue beginning to brew coffee.

Angry and sufficiently humiliated, Dan shuffled about on his hands and knees, picking up all of the coins he dropped and sorting through them to put back into the register. They didn't say anything to each other, but then again words weren't needed to be able to feel the tension and utter hatred in the air between them.

After that, they finished the chores that they needed to accomplish without anything else being thrown or spilled, even if the split was uneven and Dan ended up doing the most of them. They opened and worked side by side in relative silence, serving a wide range of coffees in a short amount of time with a very abrupt influx of customers. The only thing that broke the monotone between them was the passive-aggressive bullshit Steve pulled. It was little shoves and almost-trips as Steve passed Dan, making Dan's blood rage in his ears because there was no way that he could go to his boss about this—Steve had his uncle wrapped around his little finger. God, he fucking hated Steve.

When Mary popped in not that long after opening, even she easily picked up on his sour mood.

"Why the long face, love? Is it because Jaime isn't in today?" She asked him, after exchanging their normal pleasantries.

Dan didn't really get the chance to answer before Steve was walking past him as Dan was in the midst of making Mary's coffee, bumping Dan out of the way. Dan hissed as some of the scalding hot liquid splashed up on his hand, pulling his hand away immediately on reflex and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth where he licked away the coffee and tried to sooth his skin. Dan lunged for the sink, turning on the cold water and thrusting his hand under it, breathing out a little in relief as the frigid water rushed over it. The skin where the coffee had made contact with was red and angry, throbbing and still hot to the touch when he dried his hands off. Dan bit his lip and gave Mary a sheepish almost-smile as he threw out the ruined coffee.

"Don't worry, I'll have another one for you in a minute." he muttered, already starting to make it. He was favoring his right, non-burned hand because his left ached something fierce, but it was fine. Everything was fine.

Mary, however, was frowning.

"Daniel slow down, I'm not in a rush. And please, for heaven's sake stop using your hand! You just burned it! Why don't you take a break and find a bandage for it, hun?" she cried shooing her hand at Dan from behind the counter as if to make him stop working herself.

Dan chewed at his lip again, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. He could technically take a break any time he needed if he was injured, and there was definitely a first-aid kit in the employee break room, but then again, Steve would probably give him hell over taking an unscheduled break, if anything call up his uncle after their shift and give him an earful about Dan "being clumsy" and "costing the business money". He looked down at his hand and noted the aggravated skin and dull pain, and decided he could make it until lunch. He could properly address it then—surely a few hours without care wouldn't be catastrophic.

"If you keep it up like that then you're only going to injure yourself more. Besides, I need to give that other young man a talking to that was no way to act." Mary continued, huffing and already looking past Dan as if she was trying to find Steve and chew his ear out for being a douche. The mental image made Dan smile, and he turned his attention back to her as he took his injured left hand off of the coffee machine.

"Hey, it's no problem, I've burned myself before." The last time being back during training, probably. "And don't worry, Mary, we've got bandages in the back." That Jaime would 100% let me go get, the only problem being that Jaime isn't here. "I'll fix myself up after I help you with your coffee." A few hours later, that is, but who's counting?

Mary didn't look convinced, but only set her lips in a tight line and watched carefully as Dan finished making her her replacement coffee like she would vault the counter and help him herself if Dan so much as injured himself even a tiny bit further.

After another stern warning to take care of himself and a death glare in Steve's direction, Mary shuffled her way out. Dan gave her a little wave and kept the small smile on his face until she was gone. However, immediately afterwards he let his smile slip and double-timed it over to the little door that separated the public from where the employees made coffee. He passed Steve, and when he gave Dan an incredulous look, Dan just pushed past him, giving him a bullshit excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

And, technically, Steve couldn't complain about that, so, fucking suck it, Steve.

Dan shoved the door open with his shoulder and let out a breath of relief when there turned out to be no one else in there. He went immediately to a stall and locked the door, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and before he could google information on burns via coffee, his eyes caught on several text notifications.

>> From: my maraschino cherry

hey dan, look i know this kind of sucks but im kinda having a crisis? u remember that acting role i was going for right? well i got a call-back (!!!) and its in a few hours and i cant come in to work today

i tried to sweet talk the boss into it NOT being steve but idk if it worked

also

answer ur phone stupid i didnt want to type all of this

plus i might have wanted to gush with u via phone but whatevs

anyways im stopping by on my way back later like probs around dinner so u know my pizza toppings and we're going to iron shit out we've got a lot to talk abt danny boy

(also get some ice cream in case this doesnt go well kay ty)

The timestamp read to be somewhere around the time that Dan got up this morning, so as it turned out, yes, Jaime did tell him that she wasn't coming into work today, and he would have known that if he had only looked at his damn phone.

Dan read over the texts again and felt his heart surge for his best friend. Jaime had wanted to be a thriving actress since she was three, and so far had only gotten as far as school plays and extremely minor parts in bust shows. It was a dream that the both of them shared, but unlike Dan, Jaime was still going for it.

She auditioned for every opportunity that she got. Movies, plays, shows, anything. Sometimes, like now, she would get call-backs, but more times than not she wouldn't hear anything back. It wasn't because of her lack of talent, but mainly due to large productions looking for people that were already known, as much bullshit as it may be.

Dan remembered this one that she was going for. It was a musical that had so far received decent press and attention, and if Jaime could land a significant part in it, it could potentially help her career as an actress take off.

Smiling widely, Dan typed out a few texts congratulating her and wishing her the best of luck even if by now she would probably be mid-audition. He also readily promised the pizza and ice cream, but not after making sure to tell her that she wouldn't need it, because she was going to do great.

Dan looked at the clock on his phone, and sighed before slipping it away. If he spent any longer in the bathroom, it might start to look a tad suspicious to Steve, so he might as well avoid the WebMD diagnosis of his death-via-coffee-burn until lunch.

He exited the stall and caught his own eye in the mirror, fixing his blue hair under his hat so it didn't look too much of a mess before slipping back out of the bathroom and returning to his position behind the counter. Steve was in the middle of making a frowning CEO-looking guy his coffee, and there was luckily no one else in the queue.

"About time you got back. Damn you take longer than a girl." Steve muttered just loud enough for Dan to hear as he passed him. Dan bristled, but like normal didn't say anything back. He just took a deep breath and smiled at the mum and her young kids walking through the door and up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

~~~~~

"Dan, why don't you make yourself useful and go wipe down the counter, yeah? My uncle isn't paying you to stand around and do nothing all day."

Gritting his teeth impossibly hard, Dan stomped over to the counter in question (that he had cleaned twice already today, and it was barely even noon), both of his hands in tight fists, one of them strangling the cleaning rag.

The few moments of calm and secondhand happiness for Jaime that he had had in the bathroom ended up carrying him over for an hour before he just sunk right back down to his previous state of miserableness from before. But that was a few hours ago. Now, he was seething and tired and about ready to snap.

He started to hate-clean the self-serve counter, roughly putting things back where they went after he wiped the surface down, and refilling the sugar so aggressively a uni student veered away from him with wide eyes.

Dan didn't give a flying fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was nearly finished when a hand touched his arm. Immediately he tore away from the hand and threw down the rag, spinning around and already opening his mouth to just fucking scream at Steve because damnit Dan could take the verbal abuse but he would bring hell before he let Steve put his hands on him. He nearly choked when he found Phil standing there with concerned eyes, his hand still outstretched from where Dan ripped away from it.

"Dan?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together, "Are you okay?"

The fight in Dan just...drained out of him and he let out a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders droop and head fall. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped at the strands, messing it up and rucking up the hat on his head.

"Yeah I just…" He let the words fade, not even having the energy to try and come up with a summary of his morning brief enough that wouldn't worry Phil further.

Phil looked like he wanted to wrap Dan up in his arms and Dan honestly would have welcomed it, but in the universe's normal fashion, the chance went up in flames with a shout from Steve behind him.

"Dan, I'm going out for a cigarette, take over!" Steve called, not even waiting for Dan to acknowledge him and making straight for the door outside after walking right past the massive line of people waiting for service.

Swearing under his breath, Dan rushed past Phil to get behind the counter, helplessly giving Phil an apology over his shoulder.

By using probably all of his luck for the next year, Dan was able to give the half a dozen people in the queue their coffees without spilling a single one of them and in a relatively timely fashion, only one of the customers becoming annoyed with the slower than normal service.

That's what happens when there's only one person working the counter, asshat.

Dan ran up the latest person on the register and automatically started to run up another sale when someone else stepped up to the register. Dan put the money he had been handed from the last customer in the register tray as he half-heartedly greeted whoever was in line now.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw the cleaning rag he had completely forgotten about and left behind plop down onto the counter and held back a sigh. If he was going to have a customer chew him a new one for accidentally leaving a rag out he was going to quit on the spot.

"Yes, I need you to take a break."

Dan breathed out as he recognized the voice. Phil. Of course, always Phil.

Dan laughed a little.

"If only, Phil."

"Dan…"

The tone of Phil's voice made Dan look up. Phil had the same look as before, but it was darkened by anger. Dan felt his stomach drop. Was Phil mad at him for something? What did he do?

Dan must have been too exhausted to try and mask his emotions because Phil sighed and grabbed Dan's hand over the counter.

"I'm not mad at you. Is that 'the guy' from earlier—the asshole Steve you were telling me about?"

The feeling of Phil's thumb dragging over Dan's knuckles was normally so soothing, but Phil had grabbed Dan's left one, also known as the hand that Dan had aggressively burned earlier thanks to his wonderful coworker. Hissing under his breath as Phil's gentle touch sent pain shooting up his arm, Dan withdrew his hand hastily. Phil looked hurt and surprised, but his gaze fell on Dan's burned hand and his gaze once again darkened. Dan wanted to cry but instead just shut Phil down from asking about it by hastily replying.

"Yeah. Jaime's at an audition, so she's not in today."

The bell above the door ran once again, and Dan pulled away further, reluctantly ready to deal with more customers. However, Steve walked through the opening, and Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved at the prospect of not having to fill another order, or resigned to the end of his brief break from Steve.

Phil, however, brightened immediately and plastered on a fake smile.

"Ah, you must be Steve! Cool, Dan can take his lunch break now that you're back." And before Dan could try and tell Phil that that really wasn't how things worked, Phil was already reaching over the counter and stealing Dan's pin and apron, shoving them into Steve's arms with a bright smile. Steve sputtered, protesting, but Phil just straight up ignored him, turning to Dan and beckoning him. In a sort-of daze, Dan followed, and once he was out from behind the counter, Phil grabbed his non-burned hand and pulled him out the door of the coffee shop.

Phil gave Dan's hand a squeeze and looked back at him, his eyebrow once again knit and frowning. His eyes roved over Dan's frame, taking in his exhausted stature and overall ragged state of being. He frowned further and reached up, plucking the hat off of Dan's head.

"You shouldn't hide your hair."

Satisfied at the moment, Phil's attention shifted, and he hailed a taxi, opening the door for Dan and sliding in next to him, leaning up and telling the driver an address that Dan didn't quite hear before settling back into the seat. He draped his arm over Dan's shoulders and pulled the younger man into his side. Dan went willingly.

"Phil, where are we going? I'm still going to have to get back for the other half of my shift." He muttered, trying to will his body to relax.

"We're going home to my flat because you need a break. And don't worry, I'll have you back, but not after you get in some proper rest."

Dan tried to protest at that, because really, Phil didn't need to spend the money for a taxi just for a half and hour before Dan would have to go back, but Phil wouldn't hear it, just shushing him every time Dan tried to point out how they could have just stayed at the shop and that he wasn't worth the trouble.  

"There would be no way that you could properly relax while in the same place as him. And besides this saves me from getting arrested for assault and buying a coffee just to dump on his head." Phil glowered as if the mere thought of Steve upset him, and Dan laughed, imagining passive Phil dumping a coffee on anyone.

"Don't laugh, someone has to defend your honor, Dan."

"Well thanks for assuming I have honor, you spoon," Dan laughed, bumping their shoulders together playfully. He still felt tired and drained as hell, but Dan felt a little bit better than he had been. Progress.

They were at Phil's flat in no time, Phil paying for the taxi despite Dan's protests and leading Dan up the steps afterwards.

Phil's flat was just as it was when Dan had last been in, and Dan kicked his shoes off at the door like he had last time before flopping face-first on the couch. He heard Phil move around in the flat for a few moments before Phil returned to the lounge. Dan didn't lift his head up from where it was shoved into the couch, but he did relax, even as Phil rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I see your hand? I have a bandage and some cream that should help you."

Dan wordlessly lifted his hand up, unsure of where Phil was standing over him since Dan was trying very hard to become one with the couch at the moment, but Phil just grabbed his hand by the wrist as gently as possible, leading it over and resting it palm down on Phil's knee. Curious, Dan unburied his head from the cushions and turned it. Phil was sitting on the table, a look of careful and intense concentration on his face as he grabbed the tube of cream, squeezing some out onto his fingers and massaging it into Dan's skin. It didn't hurt—Phil was too gentle for that—but Dan could still feel his face heating up and his breath catch a little.

It had been awhile since he had been treated like something precious.

He watched as Phil worked, and laughed as Phil rubbed the excess cream on his fingers onto his jeans with a grimace. Phil grabbed the little roll of gauze and started to wrap up Dan's hand, glancing up with a pout.

"Here I am, sacrificing my jeans to make you feel better and you're laughing at me. Remind me why I love you."

The comment was a passing thought, obviously not meant to be taken with too much weight, but it still had Dan's heart skip a what was probably a few beats in his chest. He knew that Phil didn't mean it like that, but the notion that he did still warmed Dan's body all over and had him smiling as he watched Phil bandage his hand.

When Phil was finished, he dropped a kiss onto Dan's knuckles.

"There we go, all better."

Phil left everything on the table and stood, walking out of his lounge and to his kitchen. Dan could hear him shuffling about—opening cabinets and rifling through the contents in his fridge.

"I've been putting off a trip to Tesco's for about a week now, so how does unhealthy snacks sound for lunch? Or we could always venture out and try to find something?"

Dan smiled even though he was alone in the lounge. Phil was offering up the opportunity to have a legitimate meal, but didn't he know by now that Dan would much rather hole up and eat junk, just the two of them?

"Bring on the snacks, Lester."

Phil came back with an armful of various snacks, and Dan peeled himself up off the couch so Phil didn't have to sit on top of him. Dan cheered when he saw that Phil had his favorite flavor of crisps and stole them from Phil with a wide grin. Phil pouted—or at least tried to—but Dan could see the smile peeking out as he turned on the TV. Phil flipped through the channels until they found a movie on that was worth watching for the little bit of time that they had until Dan had to get back to work, and settled back, sneaking a few crisps from Dan while he was at it.

They're sides were pressed completely together with how they were sitting, and even if he ended up getting a few stains on his shirt because he couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a napkin, or whining when Phil dragged him out of the flat and back to work, or pouting in the taxi ride back to the coffee shop, Dan was still soaking up all of Phil's time and attention, loving having him near enough to hold his hand and kiss him.

Dan ignored the glare from Steve as he walked back behind the counter, even shooting the guy a smile as he fitted the hat back on over his hair.

"You can take your lunch break now, thanks for covering."

Steve looked insanely suspicious and overall pissed, but Dan didn't care. His spirits were renewed and he felt refreshed. He could last the rest of his shift, no problem.

Dan smiled at the lady walking up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

[moodybidoof]

Dishonored OC meme

I’ve done this before but I’ve been rethinking my characters since playing DoTo so I figured it couldn’t hurt to redo it. 

NAME: Phelim Campbell NICKNAME(S): Phlegm AGE: 20 during the main events of Dishonored, 35 at the start of DH2  GENDER: Cis man SEXUALITY: Bi, with a preference for men HEIGHT/BUILD: 5′11, skinny as a rail FACECLAIM: Kris Kidd

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: The absolutely rowdiest of boys. He doesn’t care about much beyond immediate satisfaction, so he acts upon whatever impulses pop into his head without much hesitation. Said impulses usually end with him in a fight or running from someone who wants to fight, and along the way things are set ablaze, dogs are let loose into the streets - really, anything can happen if he’s involved. Dunwall isn’t kind of the people who live on her streets, but Phelim always finds a way to make the best of a shitty situation. 

Despite his affinity for crime and chaos he’s actually a pretty friendly person - even kindhearted in his own way, at least with kids and animals. He’s not one to hold grudges and has more than once ended up drinking and laughing with someone who’s just kicked his shit in. Friendliness doesn’t guarantee loyalty of course, but most people he interacts with understand that. There’s only a handful of people who he’d actually stick his neck out for, but those who have earned that kind of love from him have an unwavering ally on their side. 

The only people he’s really hostile towards on principle are aristocrats, and anyone with a reputation for sucking up to the rich bastards. He’s seen enough of life to know that they can never be trusted; they just hide away like rats whenever there’s trouble, and only come out when it’s safe to gorge themselves on whatever offal is left. Phelim’s not political by any stretch of the imagination, but if he had to make a stance it would be “eat the rich”. 

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:  Tall and too skinny, he could probably stab someone to death with his elbows or knees if he ever found himself without a weapon. His body is a jigsaw puzzle of bruises and scars from all his shenanigans, and he’s always covered in a layer of dirt and sweat - at the very least. With his slight figure, high cheekbones, and long lashes he could actually be pretty but it’s nearly impossible to see beyond all the grime he’s caked in and his generally disgusting behavior.

His eyes are green. His hair is dark brown and grows out curly if he lets it get long enough, which he almost never does. He’s missing most of his middle finger on his left hand, and has a glass eye in place of his right eye after DH2.

CHARACTER DETAILS

INTRODUCE YOUR OC AND THEIR BACKSTORY.

Phelim Campbell was born on the 15th day of the Month of Rain, 1817. His father was a Dunwall whaler, the son of a Dunwall whaler who was himself the son of a Dunwall whaler. His mother was a Tyvian seamstress who came to Dunwall to be with the visiting sailor who’d swept her off her feet - or at least, that’s how she told the story. She didn’t talk about her life in Tyvia often and when she did she provided very little detail, so Phelim took to making up his own versions of her history. He and his mother made up countless stories centered around her; one where she was a revolutionary who killed a king, another where she was a famous thief on the run from the law. (Those were his favorites, though she personally preferred the ones where she was a mermaid or selkie.)

His father was out at sea more often then not, so Phelim spent his earliest years helping his mom around the little little shop she ran out of their home near the Old Port District. Mostly she just did alterations and patchwork for the locals, but occasionally she’d be commissioned to create something special for a big event - weddings were her favorites, but they got more funerals than anything else, even before the plague. Phelim would sit and watch her work, sometimes attempting clumsy imitations of her handiwork on pieces of scrap cloth, while she told him stories about witches, spirits, and giants. On the rare occasions when his father was around, he would chime in with his own tales of the creatures that lived deep beneath the waves. Young Phelim was certain that there was magic in every dark corner of the world.

When he was eleven, Phelim’s parents enlisted him in the Navy as a powdermonkey, as a way to supplement their income and in the hope that he would become a proper sailor when he was old enough. Unfortunately, Phelim shot up like a weed as a preteen, making it impossible for him to continue his job, and his reputation for fighting (and rumors of gunpowder theft) got him discharged anyway. He spent the next few years working with his father on a whaling trawler, but all that time in close quarters did nothing to help their already strained relationship. Things finally came to a head when Phelim was 17, so he left home to make his own way in the world.

The Rat Plague hit the poorest neighborhoods just months after that. At the time, Phelim was working as a laborer in one of the slaughterhouses that lined the Wrenhaven and squatting wherever he could nearby, so life became much more dangerous than ever. The slaughterhouses of course attracted swarms of rats, which brought infection, which brought more rats, and so on. Phelim was forced to get more creative about where he lay his head at night, so most weeks he passed out from exhaustion before he truly slept. For all he knew he was already infected - if not from a rat bite, then maybe a bite from one of the girls at The Golden Cat - so he truly lived every day like it was his last.

When the Financial District flooded Phelim didn’t hesitate to try and gain something from the chaos. That first night he walked away with more gold in his pockets than he’d ever seen in his life, in the form of watches, jewelry, and coin. It didn’t matter to him that it had all been taken from abandoned homes and bloated corpses. Even after the area was condemned, he still found ways in and out through the Wrenhaven River and eventually left his job at the slaughterhouse to dedicate himself full-time to looting. His travels along the river often forced him to cross paths with the Dead Eels, but he was surprised to find kindred spirits in the gang rather than enemies. It didn’t take long before he was recruited into their ranks.

Life was good for a while after that - better than it had ever been. The Dead Eels were like family, and their feud with the Hatters gave him purpose and an outlet for his limitless aggression. When he wasn’t fighting and drinking in Draper’s Ward he could still be found down in the most disgusting parts of the city, collecting river crust acid for himself and the other Eels. The fact that he was almost always covered in some kind of slime earned him the nickname Phlegm, which he wore with pride.

All good things must come to an end though, and when Empress Emily Kaldwin began to clean up Dunwall in earnest the gangs were run out of Drapers Ward and Phelim was arrested. He spent two years doing hard labor, aiding in the cleanup of the Flooded District (he was repeatedly caught pocketing things, which added months to his sentence), and was released only after he was recruited into the Lower Guard. To no one’s surprise, Phelim chafed against the rules of the Watch and often tried to fight with his superior officers, who everyone knew were just rich second sons and daughters. The watch didn’t recruit out of prisons without expecting that kind of behavior though, and each act of rebellion was met with swift and brutal punishment. He was eventually transferred to River Patrol; the choice was justified by citing his extensive knowledge of the Wrenhaven and the local gangs, but mostly it was just because no one wanted him in the city proper. 

The transfer helped temper Phelim’s rage a little, and even he had to admit that he’d be hard pressed to find a better source of income. The City Watch was the only gang in Dunwall that wasn’t falling apart, and while it killed him to have to play nice with his COs he could at least take solace in the fact that he was making money on the side without their knowledge. As a Patrol Guard Phelim mostly just checked peoples papers and poked around their store rooms, and when something wasn’t right he was always happy to correct the problem for a few coins in his pocket. (Though few things made him happier than denying access to high class civilian ships on account of some minor, bullshit excuse.)

Phelim worked for the City Guard for about ten years overall, right up until Delilah’s coup. He wasn’t in on the plan and was meant to be killed when it all began, but he managed to escape in a stolen boat. He lost his right eye in the process, but at least he was alive. I’m still a little fuzzy on the details beyond this point but I do know he sails to the archipelago east of Serkonos and becomes a pirate. 

WHAT’S THEIR OCCUPATION? HOW DID THEY GET INTO THAT PROFESSION?

I think I answered this already but in short: He was a powdermonkey for the Gristol Navy, a whaler, a slaughterhouse laborer, a looter, a Dead Eel, a Lower/Patrol Guard of the City Watch, and finally a pirate. 

WHERE IN THE EMPIRE DOES YOUR OC LIVE? IF THEY LIVE IN DUNWALL OR KARNACA, WHAT DISTRICT DO THEY LIVE/WORK IN?

He’s originally from the residential area near the Old Port District in Dunwall, but is currently living in Serkonos. There’s a book that talks about how pirates live in the archipelago east of the main island so I’m imagining he basically lives in the Dishonored version of Nassau. 

HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT WHERE THEY LIVE? WHERE DO THEY FEEL SAFE OR “AT HOME”? IS THERE A PLACE THEY’RE AFRAID OF OR THAT THEY AVOID?

He has a home in Not-Nassau and he loves it and the city itself; it’s perfect, wonderful controlled chaos. There’s no specific part of the city that he avoids, but he stays far, far away from the witches, fortunetellers, and the like that set up shop near the docks. He’s a superstitious as the next sailor, but in the sense that he believes magic is real, powerful, and should not be messed with. He doesn’t want any part of that. 

As much as he loves the city, he feels most at home out to sea on The Golden Hagfish.  

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS DO THEY BELONG TO? HOW WELL EDUCATED ARE THEY?

His family was working class, but his mom had clearly come from higher up the social ladder or had been educated well beyond her station. She taught Phelim how to read and write, how to handle numbers and money, and other basic skills, and he picked up a lot of random information while working different jobs and talking to people from all over. He’s decently educated and is just full of scraps of weird, specific facts.

HOW DO THEY DRESS FOR WORK? FOR THE EVERYDAY? FOR SPECIAL OCCASIONS? DO THEY CARRY ANY WEAPONS OR OTHER SPECIAL ITEMS?

He wears pretty much exactly what you’d expect most of the time: canvas doublet and breeches,cotton waistcoats and drawers, stockings, linen shirts and boots. None of it really fits well and it’s always mismatched, since a lot of his wardrobe is either stolen or half of it once belonged to a different crew member. Special occasions mostly just mean that he’s wearing something that vaguely matches and has been washed recently, but he does have one particularly gorgeous long coat that he stole off a some rich asshole. He saves that for really special stuff. 

He always has cutlass and a pistol hanging from his belts, and he keeps a dagger in a sheath at the small of his back. As for special items, he keeps a bone charm in a small pouch that’s been sewn closed. The pouch is sewn onto a short leather belt, which Phelim wears tied around his bicep. The whole thing isn’t very big, and since he’s so skinny and his shirts are usually so big you really can’t see it at all. His mother crafted it and gave it to him when he started as a powdermonkey, for luck, and he’s had it ever since. He’s not entirely comfortable with it honestly - it terrifies him that he can actually hear it humming and he’s afraid of what could happen if an Overseer ever caught wind of it - but he’s more afraid of what could happen if he rejected and got rid of something clearly magical. 

WHO ARE THEIR FRIENDS? DO THEY BELONG TO ANY POLITICAL OR SOCIAL FACTIONS (THE CITY WATCH, THE ABBEY, WHALERS, STREET GANGS, THE ARISTOCRACY, OCCULT SOCIETIES, ETC)?

His oldest and bestest friend is Jules Lynch, who belongs to @theladyjokaste. They grew up together, lost touch for years, and then reunited in Not-Nassau. Jules probably can’t believe that he has to put up with Phelim’s shit again, and also that people are apparently calling him Phlegm now and he likes that.

The other Golden Hagfish crew members are like family of course, but he’s especially close with one of the other riggers. Dixie “Rook” Blakemore has a harsh voice, sharp eyes, and cannot be trusted in a game of chance because she doesn’t leave anything up to fate. She and Phelim have all sorts of rigged games together, from shell games to the Serkonos favorite ventiuna. 

Back in Dunwall he ran with another one of @theladyjokaste​‘s children, Micajah “Cage” Tanner. They were in the Dead Eels together and Phlegm had a terrible, obvious, unrequited crush on him that Cage used to his advantage.

ARE THEY IN A RELATIONSHIP? IF SO, WITH WHOM?

Nope.

DO THEY HAVE ANY CONNECTION TO THE CANON CHARACTERS? FRIENDSHIPS? RIVALRIES? RELATIVES? BRIEF ENCOUNTERS?

Obviously he worked under Lizzy Stride and Edgar Wakefield. He didn’t like Wakefield or the way he took control of the gang, but he didn’t stick his neck out in Lizzy’s defense - not like he could get her out of prison, and he didn’t want to end up dead - which is how he lost a finger. He probably briefly saw Daud after Daud broke Lizzy out of Coldridge and was there when the Brigmore Witches attacked the Undine, which was easily the most terrifying experience of his life so far.

WHAT DO THEY THINK OF THE OUTSIDER AND THE VOID? OF MAGIC AND ITS PRACTITIONERS? 

His parents instilled in him a fear and respect of magic from a young age, as both of them were superstitious. He views magic in the same way I think a lot of people irl view faeries - shit’s real and capricious and dangerous, so best not to fuck with it. He can deal with smaller things like the bone charms his mother gave him, and the charms a lot of other sailors keep, but anything more powerful than that he wants nothing to do with. (Even then he wouldn’t ever try to make his own charm or use one made by someone he didn’t have total and absolute faith in.) 

WHAT DO THEY THINK OF THE OVERSEERS? DO THEY ADHERE TO THE ABBEY OR DO THEY HAVE A DIFFERENT BELIEF SYSTEM? IF THEY’RE NOT DEVOUT, WHAT DO THEY VALUE OR PRIORITIZE IN LIFE?

Dangerous and terrifying, also to be avoided at all costs even if their dogs are very cute. Besides the fact that he doesn’t want to get caught with a bone charm, he thinks they’re creepy and that their scriptures are weird bullshit. He prioritizes himself first and foremost, and just does whatever it takes to survive and have fun.

HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT TECHNOLOGY AND SCIENCE (WHALE OIL, TALLBOYS, WALLS OF LIGHT, THE ACADEMY OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, CLOCKWORK SOLDIERS, ETC)?

He knows that Walls of Light and Tallboys made his life nightmarishly difficult for a while but mostly it’s well beyond his understanding or interests.

DISHONORED

WHAT DO THEY THINK OF EMPRESS JESSAMINE AS A RULER? OR DO THEY NOT CARE?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ He didn’t care.

HOW ARE THEY AFFECTED BY THE RAT PLAGUE?

He was technically homeless when it started, Slaughterhouse Row attracted plenty of rats, and security in the area became brutal so that was a pretty fucking bad time. He had to move around a lot to avoid the city watch, and he pretty much accepted that he’d almost certainly contract the plague. Like, he was genuinely surprised every morning he woke up and wasn’t bleeding from his eyes. That’s part of the reason why he took the risk of looting the Flooded District so often; he figured if he was sure to die, he might as well try and die rich. On the bright side he did make a killing and it lead him to the best people he’d ever meet. Once he was set up with the Eels in Drapers Ward, life totally turned around.

DO THEY HAVE AN OPINION ABOUT CORVO? DO THEY BELIEVE HE’S GUILTY OR INNOCENT?

He doesn’t pay much attention to politics but everyone heard the rumors about Corvo, and Phelim had not reason not to believe them. While he didn’t really care one way or another about Jessamine, he loves Dunwall and ends up partly blaming Corvo for everything that happened while the rat plague ran unchecked and for all the changes that the Lord Regent implemented.

IF THEY LIVE IN DUNWALL, HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT THE LORD REGENT’S GOVERNMENT AND THE AUTHORITARIAN CITY WATCH?

“That guy can go fuck himself with a whaling harpoon.” 

WHAT IS THEIR FATE IN A LOW CHAOS ENDING? WHAT ABOUT HIGH CHAOS?

His canon is set in a low chaos universe, so he ends up joining the Dead Eels and then ends up in prison after that. In high chaos he’d probably contract the plague, considering how he was living. 

DISHONORED 2

DO THEY SUPPORT EMPRESS EMILY AND LORD PROTECTOR CORVO OR THEIR CRITICS? OR DO THEY NOT CARE? DO THEY BELIEVE THE CROWN KILLER STORIES?

He’s happy to see the Lord Regent go, but support is a strong word. Empress Emily is the reason he loses his family and ends up in prison, so while he’s happy about many of the changes she puts into effect he’d still probably tell her to go fuck herself if they ever met. Though to be fair, he’d say that to basically any politician. 

He’s heard that the Lord Protector had to do some shady shit to get Emily her throne back so he had no trouble believing the Crown Killer stories. Frankly he thinks they’re pretty badass and it’s made him respect Corvo a little more.  

HOW ARE THEY AFFECTED BY DELILAH AND DUKE ABELE’S COUP?

He’s in the city watch at the time and while he’s not really loyal to the royal family, he loves his city and there’s no chance he would have been on board with letting some foreign shit waltz in a take over. So I mean, the coup very nearly kills him. 

IF THEY LIVE IN KARNACA, HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT DUKE ABELE’S GOVERNMENT? ARE THEY AFFECTED BY BLOODFLY INFESTATIONS OR SILVER DUST STORMS?

He isn’t in Karnaca but I imagine the rest of Serkonos wasn’t doing much better. Not-Nassau is totally independent, being a pirate republic and all, but I doubt Duke Abele would be too happy about the situation. Attacks around the archipelago went up, more pirate ships were lost, and any ships that had made port in Karnaca had to be quadruple checked for bloodflies. Phelim is just so sick of this shit, was it not enough to live through one coup????? Why do these people need to make their drama everyone elses’ problem?

IF THEY LIVE IN DUNWALL, HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT THE CITY BEING CONTROLLED BY DELILAH’S BRIGMORE WITCHES?

UMMMM THAT IS LITERALLY THE NIGHTMARE SCENARIO. He’s not in Dunwall at the time and I cannot even begin to describe how lucky he feels when he hears the news, and how equally angry and upset he is that the city he loves so much is being desecrated this way. 

WHAT IS THEIR FATE IN A LOW CHAOS ENDING? WHAT ABOUT HIGH CHAOS?

Low chaos he makes it to Serkonos. High chaos he dies at the start of the coup, killed by his partner in the River Patrol. 

IF YOUR OC WAS AN NPC…

WHAT WOULD THE HEART SAY ABOUT THEM?

Dishonored:

He used to feed the Hound Pits dogs, and wept over each night’s casualties. He tries not to think about where the hounds are now.

At night he sits with needle and thread, patching threadbare clothing the way his mother taught him. He has not seen her since before the plague began.

His parents gave him a charm carved from bone. He pretends he cannot hear how it whispers.

Dishonored 2:

Sometimes he swears he’s seen something from the corner of his missing eye, but when he turns to check there’s nothing there.

He still dreams of a red uniform, and all the ways he could kill the man wearing it. 

He’s lost so many friends and each night drinks to all their memories.

WHERE COULD THEY BE FOUND IN-GAME?

With the other Eels in Draper’s Ward, during the Brigmore Witches DLC, or around the docks in Karnaca in DH2.

WHAT LINES WOULD THEY SAY WHEN IDLE OR NOT ON ALERT?

Dishonored:

“C’mon already. I’m itching for a fight.”

“Can you believe how people lived here? How can anyone need so much shit?”

“Drinks are on me tonight.”

Dishonored 2:

He’s singing Drunken Whaler to himself while cleaning things up on the deck of a ship.

Occasionally he’ll mutter:

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” sniff, then ask, “Is that me?”

“Can’t believe Shen left me with this shit job. What a choffer.”

WHAT LINES WOULD THEY SAY WHEN REACTING TO THE PLAYER?

Either game:

“Nice sword.”

“You looking for a fight?” if the player gets too close. 

In DH2 he occasionally says, “What’s with the mask? Pretty flashy way to hide your face.”

WOULD THERE BE ANY REWARDS, CONSEQUENCES, OR SPECIAL EVENTS DEPENDENT ON YOUR CHARACTER (LIKE CALLISTA GIVING YOU AN HEIRLOOM FOR SAVING GEOFF CURNOW, GRANNY RAGS GIVING SIDEQUESTS, ETC)?

This could happen in either game, but it’s funnier imagining it happening with Daud. 

He calls the player over and is obviously embarrassed, but he powers through and asks if they could deliver a letter to a certain apartment. He’d do it himself but he’s got work to do here. (He’s alone on the ship in DH2 and mentions that he doesn’t wanna ask one of the other Eels in DH.) He gives you the letter and tells you not to read it but obviously you do anyway, and it’s a really shmoopy love poem. Once you drop it off and let him know he rewards you with a big river krust pearl.  

IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE ABOUT YOUR OC?

He loves dogs and no matter what is going on in his life, he will always stop to feed and play with any dogs he comes across. The captain of the Golden Hagfish, Agnes King, owns a mangy little rat catching terrier and he’s so fucking in love with it that he’s basically stolen the dog from King at this point. He’s also been blessed by a stray polydactyl black cat that lives in Not-Nassau and visits his house whenever he’s around because he feeds her.