Working on my AntiSepticEye story and thought Iâd share the playlist Iâve been listening to while writing... Maybe it will bring someone else inspiration!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Monterey Bay Aquarium
art blog(derogatory)
NASA

romaâ
KIROKAZE

Xuebing Du
Cosmic Funnies
trying on a metaphor

Kiana Khansmith

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

#extradirty
Jules of Nature

â
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

ellievsbear
almost home
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from Brazil

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Ukraine
seen from Mozambique
seen from Ukraine

seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States
@moontails
Working on my AntiSepticEye story and thought Iâd share the playlist Iâve been listening to while writing... Maybe it will bring someone else inspiration!

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Antisepticeye Origins Preview
So Iâve had an Anti story slowly building in my head⌠And it seems a few people have shown interest in the concept of a Origins story for Anti⌠So hereâs a preview of my opening.
Feed back is MUCH appreciated
đ @moondanser83-2
****************************************
Falling into Darkness (Working title)
It had been coming on for months. A blackout here, and strange video glitch there. Subscribers reporting strange images coming across their screenâs during otherwise normal lets plays. He thought they were messing with him. Even the screencaps and gifs he come across online had to be edits, he had convinced himself. Damn good edits, but edits nonetheless.
Online videos glitches are not that unusual, and people blackout all the time for any number of reasons. His sleeping pattern had never been normal, and his work schedule often caused him to miss meals. Low blood sugar could explain away countless physical reactions.
But it couldnât away hours inexplicably lost in the middle of the day. It couldnât explain away bruised and bloodied hands. And it couldnât explain the thick black liquid smeared across his face just below his right eye.
When he awoke in the dark, his face sticky and wet, his body battered and his throat raw, Jack knew something was truly wrong with him. Alone, in the absolute darkness of the deepest night, Jack wrapped his arms around his knees and as tears rolled down his face he rocked and he whisperedâŚ. Iâm not alone
Until Now
Dan Howell had never been a particularly good wizard. Yes, the natural ability was there, but there always seemed to be something getting in the way of his studies. The way the water reflected off the lake just outside the library window, the cheers from the Quidditch pitch on a warm Saturday afternoon or sometimes it was simply an overwhelming urge to curl up in a window and watch the rain fall against the night sky, either way Dan never seemed to find the time or the motivation to study as he knew he should.
Danâs best friend Phil Lester, a tall, dark haired muggle born, was the exact opposite. Phil always had two or three extra books shoved into his satchel and would frequently be found sitting in abandoned stairwells mouthing spells and practicing his wand work. Perhaps it was because Phil was muggleborn and felt he needed to catch up, or maybe it was just his natural inclination to over achieve, Dan had never asked, but it was painfully clear to Dan that if he wanted to pass Charms this semester he was going to have to check his ego and ask for help.
They had been learning the Patronus Charm over the last few weeks and even when he truly tried Dan was still only able to coax a shapeless cloud of silver smoke out of the top of his wand and with the exam approaching Dan began to panic. In less than forty-eight hours he would be forced to stand in front of his classmates, a task that caused him anxiety on a good day, and produce a well formed Patronus Charm.. The thought of it alone left Dan in a cold sweat as he quickly climbed down out of his dormitory window, grabbed his wand and cloak and set off to find Phil.
As expected Phil was located in an empty stairwell just outside the Ravenclaw common room. It had become one of his favored spots over the years because passing Ravenclaws tended to be helpful when it came to studying⌠even to those outside of their house. In one hand he held a half eaten apple, in the other hand his wand hovered, poised for a spell he had not quite perfected. The book in his lap was ragged and dogged eared, but Phil didnât seem to notice as he stared at it intently.
âPhil?â Dan said as quietly as possible, hoping not to startle his friend too badly.
Phil jumped, the book falling from his lap and his wand hitting the wall behind him as he flailed for balance. Dan couldnât help but laugh.
âWhy must you do that to me?â Phil grumbled as he picked up his book and closed it gently.
Dan tried to compose himself but still failed to hide his smirk.
âI didnât do it on purpose.â He swore as Phil scrambled to his feet. âI just didnât know how else to get your attention without startling you.â
Phil puffed out a breath and tried to scowl again, but failed. He could never stay mad at his best friend, no matter how hard he tried he had no defense against Danâs playful smirk and laughing brown eyes.
âWell⌠You have my attention,â Phil huffed dramatically, âso whatâs up?â
Assuming a plaintive posture Dan looked up at Phil, playfully batting his lashes.
âMonday is the charms examâŚ.â He began
ââŚAnd you still havenât managed to produce a Patronus have you?â Phil finished for him.
Dan shook his head pitifully.
âI just can't seem to conjure up a happy enough memory to make it stick.â Dan whined.
Phil laughed and shook his head.
âWell come on then, youâre not going to find it sulking in the hallway.â
Grinning once again Dan followed Phil down the stone corridor not bothering to ask where they were going.
Two floors above the kitchen Phil stopped in the hall and began to pace back and forth, a look on concentration on his face. Slowly the wall in front of him began to transform into a large wrought iron door which opened inward silently.
âWhen did you find the Room of Requirement?â Dan gapped. âI thought it was just a myth!â
Phil opened his eyes and clapped his hands when he saw the door before him.
âI saw some 7th years pacing around over here a week or so ago,â Phil confided, âbut this is the first time Iâve managed to get the room to open for me. Even the castle must know how much help you need to pass this exam!â He teased, âMust be pretty bad when the very walls take pity on you.â
Dan stuck out his tongue and followed Phil into the room.
The doors clicked quietly shut behind them and Dan and Phil took a moment to admire what the room had provided for them. It was a cosy room with thick drapes over the wall, a gently flickering fire in the hearth and giant mirror covering a full wall.
Placing his book on a nearby table Phil pulled out his wand and turned to face Dan.
âOk, letâs see what youâve got.â He said, automatically holding his wand at the ready.
Sulking Dan pulled his wand from his back pocket, assumed the appropriate stance, screwed up his eyes and swished his wand in the figure drawn in the textbook. Nothing happened.
Dan frowned and tried again. A pale puff of silver wafted from the tip of his wand, but he knew it wouldnât be enough to secure him a passing grade in Charms.
As he let out a sullen sigh Dan felt a cool hand grip him just below the elbow. He hadnât noticed Phil moving closer to him, hadnât seen him grinning at his pathetic attempts to cast the charm, but now Dan found himself hyper aware of Philâs presence, and it made it a little hard to breathe.
âYouâre not thinking of a strong enough memory.â Phil said quietly in Danâs ear. âIt needs to be a moment that fills you up from your toes to the top of your head so that your body canât contain it anymore, from there your wand will know what to do.â
Dan wracked his brain. He wasnât a particularly unhappy person, aside from the usual teenage angst, but he couldnât think of a single thing that gave him the feelings Phil had described.
âWhatâs youâre memory?â Dan asked as he turned to face Phil.
Phil flushed, his cheeks turning red as his blue eyes glistened. Without taking his eyes off of Danâs Phil flicked his wand above his head and a large woodpecker exploded out of the tip circling them three times before disappearing into a cloud of blueish smoke.
Dan cocked his head in confusion, staring back at Phil until it came to him. The memory flooded his mind until he could see nothing else. It had been only few months before. Dan had been standing on the edge of the forbidden forest, debating if he was brave enough to complete the dare one of his older friends had issued. He had nearly talked himself into going when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
âIs it really worth getting detention for?â Phil had said quietly.
Dan had sighed and shook his head, thankful for Philâs ever present voice of reason. They had been just about to turn away from the forest when something flew out of the woods nearly grazing Danâs head.
Startled Dan had jumped back and without realizing it grabbed Philâs hand in his panic. They had stood there a moment, hand in hand, trying to figure out what had flow out at them. On a tree branch a few feet away a large, woodpecker with a bold red stripe across its head stared at them.
Dan let out the breath he had been holding and laughed. That was the moment that he realized that his hand was still wrapped tightly around Philâs. Their eyes met for a moment before they let go, both boys awkwardly fixing their hair and letting out small breathy laughs.
That afternoon had stuck with Dan, haunting his dreams on quiet nights, but he had brushed it aside thinking the rush of emotions he felt had been a side effect of the scare the bird had given him. Looking into Philâs wide eyes now, Dan knew he had been wrong.
His mind was flooded with every moment he had spent with Phil over the past few years, every accident touch, every hug that lasted just a little too longâŚ. And finally Dan found his memory.
Four years ago, on summer holiday, Dan had gone with his family to the Isle of Man. He remembered walking down the coastline with his younger brother as they giggled excitedly, hoping to see some sort of sea life. That was when they had come across the lanky boy, with black hair and a crooked smile sitting on the rocky beach, a small white seal curled up in his lap.
Startled Dan had called out.
âHey! You shouldnât do that, it could hurt you!â He shouted.
The boy jolted upright, the baby seal sliding off his lap and onto the shale.
Phil looked around confused until his eyes landed on a skinny boy with a mop of brown hair and what appeared to be a smaller clone standing beside him. Phil pushed himself to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans and walked over to introduce himself. Behind him the small seal wiggled its way back into the ocean and disappeared.
âYou know seals arenât usually that friendly.â Dan said bluntly as the boy walked up to him. âYou could have gotten bitten or worse.â
Phil rolled his shoulders.
âAnimals like me.â He said nonchalantly, âWell, except for cats.â
Dan laughed and shook his head. He had never met a boy like this before and the had spent the afternoon exploring the beach together as Phil introduced him to the shoreline animals, the small white seal watching them from just off shore.
Dan shook his head. He hadnât known then that Phil would be receiving a letter from Hogwarts that very week, or that on September first they would run into each other again as they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. The rest was history. The two boys had been inseparable for the past four years, and even though there had been whispers behind cupped hands about them being more than friends neither of the them had cared.
Until now.
Dan stood very still, his face inches from Philâs, his breaths shallow and his palms sweaty.
Phil stared back, his bright blue eyes unblinking, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
After a moment Dan drew a deep breath and lifted his wand.
âExpecton PatronumâŚâ He whispered, his eyes never leaving Philâs.
A small white seal slide of of the end of his wand and hopped along the floor, encircling their feet, demanding their attention. Dan and Phil looked down at the same time, their heads pressing gently against each others.
âI wondered if you remembered.â Phil murmured, the words barely forming.
âI rememberedâŚ.â Dan breathed, pulling his head up, forcing Philâs eyes back up to his, âbut I never understood⌠Until now.â
******************************************** For @daisukicutie Saw your request for a woodpecker/seal Patronus story⌠So here ya go! ~Moon~
Thinking about writing a JackSepticEye fic while I'm between semesters... Any suggestions?
Just a heads up. This page is still active but for the next few months I'm not going to have much writing time. Bare with me through this semester and we'll be back on track before you know! <3 Much love, ~Moon~

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Adam Who?
***SMUT WARNING***
A/N: This is a Joan of Arcadia fic I wrote years ago but thought I'd share now. It was written as a prequel to a Joan of Arcadia collaboration called "Butterflies" which can be found HERE. Enjoy!
                                                         ***
Joan Girardi walked through the snow-covered lawn separating the buildings at Arcadia Community College. Stopping to adjust the bag she habitually wore over her shoulder, she glanced skyward at the thick white clouds that promised to drop more snow before the day was over. It had been a long, cold, winter and Joan eagerly looked forward to the promise of spring, which was still a couple of months away. Sighing, she lowered her gaze and skirted a patch of ice. Only two more tests, she thought to herself, then I'll be free for three glorious weeks.
"Joan!" a male voice called from across the lawn, "Are you coming?"
Instantly Joan opened her eyes, seeking the familiar voice.
"Be right there, Marc," she called back as she, once again, adjusted her bag and began to walk at a quick pace.
Leaning against the faded brick building, a young man waited for her, his eyes following the graceful motion of her body as she walked towards him.
Pancakes
***SMUT WARNING***
 The mid-morning sunlight streamed in through the blinds as Victoria batted her eyes open. She stretched and grabbed her phone from the nightstand checking the time. It was just shy of eleven. Victoria stared at her phone in shock at the time, she rarely slept past nine, regardless of how late she had been up the night before, and it annoyed her body had betrayed her this way. Beside her Daniel, her boyfriend of the past eighteen months, snored quietly. She figured she had at least a half hour before he woke up, if she was quiet, and with as little movement as possible she slipped out of bed.
Shrugging into an oversized t-shirt Victoria began to search for her favorite leggings, but gave up once she remembered that Phil was out of the country for the week and they had the flat to themselves. Silently she grabbed her phone and let herself out of the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and doing her best to avoid the creaky step at the bottom.
Philception
***SMUT WARNING***
A bolt of lightning blinds you as you raise your arms to fend off the driving rain. You are soaked and alone, wandering through the oddly dark streets of London. You donât know what time it is, or even what street youâre on, but all the shop windows are dark and there is no traffic on the road. The wind howls and out of the corner of your eye you see the form of a large man step out of an alleyway. Terrified, you begin to run.
Head down, blinded by wind, rain and fear, you have no idea where youâre going, and you let out a scream when you feel your body slam against something solid.
âHey, you ok?â You hear a quiet voice ask as a gentle hand grips your shoulder.
You lurch backwards, brushing your dripping hair out of your eyes, and look up at the man before you.
He is tall and slender, with wet black hair plastered to his forehead. He is wearing a deep blue windbreaker and has a black bag slung over his shoulder, but none of that matters, because you have already become lost in his cerulean eyes.
Second Chances
Lepidopterophobia
Dan stared in the mirror. He turned left, than right, checking his reflection from all angles. It didnât matter which way her looked at it, his shirt was still covered with dozens of moths. What on Earth possessed me to buy this shirt? He wondered to himself as he turned yet again in the mirror. It was a little known fact that he was terrified of butterflies; just the thought of them crawling around with their creepy little faces and hairy little feet made Dan shudder. It had been nearly fifteen years since the âincidentâ at the butterfly garden, but still the memory of a giant butterfly landing on his face haunted him.
But moths were different than butterflies⌠right?

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Two Words
Rain fell relentlessly from the sky as I sat watching the clouds that were as black as my mood. Perhaps that is an inaccurate comparison though. My thoughts werenât black, I wasnât angry, I wasnât even sad. I guess I was just feeling lost, and maybe a little sorry for myself. Maybe the gray sky would be a better comparison, lets go with that. I was feeling gray. I sipped my tea and adjusted my headphones, skipping to the next track on my playlist, and as the melodious opening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness filled my mind I closed my eyes. It had been a long time since I had felt this way, had allowed myself to feel this way. But here I was, listening to the same music that had gotten me through those troubling teenage years, and comparing myself to a rainy day. Opening my eyes I let out a sigh. I had no reason to feel this way, no legitimate reason anyway, but still I found myself pulling my knees up to my chest. It had been nearly four years since my best friend, and fellow YouTuber, Dan and I had become flatmates, and usually Iâm glad we made this decision. But today was one of the rare days that I was glad he was out for the night. Living with Dan has always had itâs ups and downs. His obnoxiously loud singing in the shower everyday is a minor irritation that Iâve grown used to, as well as his tendency to leave empty coffee mugs on our shared desk. But having someone who understands what I do, and has many of the same likes as me, makes it worth it. As much as we can annoy each other, I wouldnât give up his companionship for the world. And knowing all this only made me feel worse. In addition to this rare wave of jealousy there was guilt about feeling this way. I know itâs not his fault. He doesnât try to out do me in everything, and often seems legitimately surprised when he does, but it has become the pattern of our lives. Sometimes I wonder if heâs the superhero, and Iâm simply his sidekick. I shake my head. I know thatâs not true, and I know he doesnât think like that, itâs all in my head. But I admit, this thought process has happened a few times over the years. The worst one being a few months ago when Dan ascended to the million subscribers club, leaving me behind. I donât begrudge him the success or popularity, in fact, most of the time I feel like a proud papa when it comes to his accomplishments. But recent months of being pushed aside by our âfansâ has taken itâs toll on me. Iâve always understood that Dan was considered the âprettierâ of the two of us, and that the girls, especially our younger female subscribers, would flock to him because off his looks. But itâs never really bothered me, until now. It has been two weeks since weâve returned to our home in London after appearing at yet another YouTube convention. Two weeks since âfanâ after âfanâ walked past me and went straight to Dan. I should have expected it, after all he does have four-hundred-thousand more subscribers than me, but still it hurt. Two weeks later, having resumed our normal lives, youâd think I would be over it, but Iâm not. It has made me doubt myself. Is my content lacking? Or is it simply my face? Perhaps itâs the âcute and innocentâ persona I tend to push. I know most of them understand that there is more to me than the innocent, cuddly Phil theyâve seen in recent videos. In the old days, when I first started filming, some of my videos were darker. But a while back I decide that there is enough darkness in the world, and I didnât want to contribute anymore to it. So innocent, perpetually happy Phil was born. Once in a while Iâll get a request or two for videos more like my old ones, but for the most part everyone seems happy with how my channel is today. I am happy with my how may channel is today⌠really, I am. This is ridiculous, I tell myself as I get up to freshen my tea. Just because a few girls prefer Dan, doesnât make me less of a person. And honestly, what does it matter? They are people that I am unlikely to see again, they are not part of my daily life, so why is this bothering me? The answer is there circling around in my mind as I stare at the kettle waiting for it to boil. The experience has brought out old insecurities, and in my mind I am suddenly a teenager again and being ignored by everyone outside my immediate circle of friends. No one ever noticed weird little Phil Lester. Even his girlfriend, back in those days, had left him for his then best friend. And thatâs what this felt like. Like I had been left for my best friend once more. I found myself sighing yet again as I took my tea to my room and opened my laptop. Maybe some mindless scrolling would make me feel better, I thought to myself. Email, Twitter, YouTube, I checked all my usual sites before resigning myself to an evening of scrolling endlessly through Tumblr. As a rule, I rarely check my tag on this site. In the past I have come across too many unsettling, and sometimes out right disturbing things involving myself, but tonight I decided to take a look. After all, I couldnât possibly feel any worse at this point. I scrolled for the few minutes, fic, fic, fic, gif of me doing something cute, frighteningly well done drawing of me and Dan in a compromising position. I sighed again. I had known what I would find when I typed in the tag, but I had done it anyway. But just as I was about to click back to my dashboard something caught my eye. It was a picture of me, my eyes down, small smile barely showing from that angle. I couldnât recall what event or video the image was from, but below it, in a gorgeous script that had to have been hand written, were two words. âBeautiful Soulâ Thatâs all it said, there were no comments, though it had been reblogged many times. I stared at the picture of myself, and at the words below it, and felt that same small smile cross my face. Somewhere out there was someone who saw me this way. And in that moment it didnât matter if it was just that one person or a million. I had made someone see that there was beauty in the world. I had made someone smile. Somewhere in the world there was a person who appreciated the fact that I was alive⌠and that was all that I needed. With the smile still on my face I closed my laptop and crawled under my duvet. I knew that I may not be the most attractive person in the world, and perhaps my contribution to society didnât count for much, but somewhere someone was smiling because of me. And that was enough. I knew this wasnât the first time something like this had gotten me down, and it wouldnât be the last. But next time I would be prepared. Next time the uncertainty and insecurities reared their ugly heads I would pull this picture back out and be reminded that someone, somewhere in the world, thought that I had a beautiful soul⌠and I wouldnât want to let them down.
My Dark Angel
The following is the end of the final battle as told by Hermione (AU)
                                                        ***
No More Happy Thoughts
George Weasley stood in the middle of the road staring up at the ruins of Weasleysâ Wizards Wheezes. It had been more than a month since the second war had ended, and most businesses had started to rebuild. A few were even having grand re-opening sales that very week. But the once grand joke shop still stood derelict. The formerly flamboyant purple paint was covered with soot and peeling. The enormous window that had once sparkled in the sunlight lay in jagged pieces on the ground. Dirt and grime covered bricks lay scattered in front of the building having been blasted out of the wall by stray curses and vandals. Above the barred doors a nine hung crookedly while the three was nowhere to be found. George sighed. He had waited as long as possible before coming back to this place. 93 Diagon Alley had once been his haven. Now all he could do was stare at the mutilated building and do his best fight the tears that were gathering in his dull blue eyes. He had thought, after the final battle, that going back to The Burrow would be the hardest thing. To try and sleep in the room he had shared with his twin his entire life was pure agony. But this was worse. This had been the place he had shared with Fred and Fred alone. Their loft above the shop was no doubt in ruins, and even though he had thought he was ready to go back George stood numbly in the street unable to bring himself to enter the building. Behind him the world carried on. He could hear the bustle of foot traffic, the shop keepers calling out their wears as witches and wizards greeted each other. Life was working its way back to normal, but for George Weasley the world had stopped on May second, nineteen -ninety-eight. That day he had lost half of himself; half his smile, half his laugh, half his heart. He had tried, in the passing weeks, to smile. He had stood in front of the mirror in the small bathroom at The Borrow and tried to force his lips to curve, his eyes to sparkle, but it was no good. Without Fred he could find nothing to smile about and no reason to try. He was grateful that the rest of his family had survived the war relatively unscathed, but still he was lost. George stared sadly at the dilapidated building before him and blew out a breath. He would not be going in there today, or any other day. Dejectedly George Weasley turned away from the building that had once been his pride and joy. Head hung in pain he made his way down the now crowded street. When he reached the end of the street George glanced back at the building one last time before turning sullenly on the spot. He disappeared with a barely audible pop, leaving a single tear splashing silently to the ground.
A/N: A few weeks ago I came across a list of little known Harry Potter facts. One of them was that after Fredâs death George was no longer able to produce a patronus. I sniffled and put it aside, but it kept coming back to me⌠how excruciating Georgeâs sadness much have been⌠this story is the result of that. I am also proud to say that minus the title and authorâs note it is exactly 500 words! (written for an exactly 500 word story challenge) ~Moon~
Petrichor
The parched earth cracks beneath your feet and small plumes of dust drift up as you brave the blistering heat. All youâve done is carry a single bag to the dumpster, yet you are drenched with sweat. You groan as you feel it drip down your back soaking the waistband of your shorts.
It is day twenty three of this godforsaken heat wave and as of a week ago the greater London area is officially in a state of drought. You hurriedly throw the bin bag away, slamming the dumpster cover as you turn to escape back into the air-conditioned flat you share with your boyfriend Dan, and his roommate.
It is Sunday evening and both Dan and Phil are in town at the BBC Radio station recording their all request show. Usually you would be tuned in watching, but just the thought of the heat of your laptop makes you shudder.
You decide that a quick shower would make you feel better, and kicking off your sandals you make your way to the bedroom. Once there you peel off your saturated tank top, grab a towel, and with a paranoid peak around the corner, you make a run for the bathroom.
The cool water feels like heaven as it runs down your over heated body and you canât help but feel guilty as you think about Dan and Phil walking home from Islington station in this blistering heat.
With a sigh you reach behind you and turn off the water and step out of the shower. With your towel wrapped firmly around your body you dash back to the room you share with Dan. You feel silly running when you know no one is home, but you do it out of habit anyway.
Five minutes later you walk out of the room wearing a pair of cotton shorts and one of Danâs t-shirts. You are still toweling your wet hair as you open the balcony slider. You know it is still sweltering out, but you canât resist checking to see if the temperature has dropped at all.
It hasnât, and the heat hits you like a brick wall. Instantly you are covered in sweat, yet again, and you feel your mood plummet. Slamming the door shut you turn and make your way back to the living room and fall face down onto the couch.
You wake with a jolt as something cool and damp is placed on the back of your neck. You donât remember falling asleep, but when you open your eyes you realize that the only light in the room is the pale blue glow of the television.
You turn you head, pushing damp hair out of your face, and see Dan sitting on the floor beside you. He takes the damp cloth from your neck and wipes your face with it.
âHey.â He says quietly.
âHey.â You whisper back, staring up into his beautiful eyes.
His soft brown hair is damp from sweat and curling around his face, and you canât look away. He smiles at you with that crooked grin that has been melting your heart for longer than you can remember, and you canât help smiling back. Over the past year and a half youâve learned that itâs impossible for you to stay cross when heâs smiling at you like that.
âLooks like you took an unexpected nap.â He says with a laugh as he helps you into a sitting position.
âI guess the heat got to me.â You confess. âWhereâs Phil?â you ask.
âHeâs working on a project with Charlie tonight. He probably wonât be home till morning.â
âOh.â You reply absently as you look around the room.
The damp towel from your hair is on the floor next to the couch and the blinds on the sliding door leading to the balcony are wide open.
âIâm sorryâŚâ you say as you bend to pick up the towel.
Dan catches your arm before you can move enough to reach it and holds you there.
âI wish you would stop doing that.â He says quietly
âDoing what?â you ask, your eyes not quiet meeting his.
âApologizing constantly,â he sighs as he takes your chin gently in his hand. âYouâve done nothing wrong.â
He kisses you lightly before taking your hand.
âCome on,â he says pulling you off the couch, âyouâve been trapped in this house for days, letâs go for a walk.â
âDan, itâs sweltering out.â You protest, âAnd Iâm sure your tired and want to shower and rest for a bit.â
But he is having none of it.
âCome on, (y/n),â he pleads, âHow long has it been since weâve just gone for a walk? Itâs starting to cool down a bit now, I promise.â He says as he nudges your sandals towards your feet.
Slowly you stretch and grabbing an elastic from the side table and tie your hair back.
âOk,â you concede, knowing that you canât win once he takes that tone.
Shoving your feet into your sandals you let him pull you up off the couch, intertwining your fingers with his in the process. Bracing yourself for the blast of heat you let him lead you outside into the night.
The air is slightly cooler now, and there is an electric feeling in the air, like lightening about to strike. You stand on the stoop for a moment, holding hands, just staring up into the sky.
âThere are no stars tonight.â Dan says mournfully, squeezing your hand.
âThatâs a good thing,â you tell him, your eyes still on the sky. âThat means there is cloud cover. Hopefully theyâll give us some rain.â
âHopefully,â he agrees, âbut Iâd really like to be able to see the stars.â
He stares into the sky a moment longer before pulling you off the stoop. You fall in step beside him, your hand still in his, even though both of your palms are sweaty.
It takes a moment for you to realize that heâs leading your towards the park down the road from your flat, and you canât help smiling. When you had first started dating Dan there had been a lot of time spent at this park. It was filled with sweet memories of long talks and stolen kisses. He had even pushed you on the swings there a time or two before.
There is a sudden crackle in the air as heat lighting flies through the sky, and you laugh as Dan jumps startled by it. Just the thought of an incoming storm fills you with an energy that you havenât felt in weeks and letting go of Danâs hand you take off running into the park.
â(y/n), what are you doing?â he calls running after you.
By the time he catches up you are already perched on a swing, your eyes sparkling.
âPush me Dan.â You tell him, âMake me fly.â
Laughing he gets behind you and begins to push gently at first, then harder. You swing back and forth, the wind making your ponytail fly, and you find yourself giggling like a school girl.
The dust beneath you dances and twirls with every pump of your legs, but the drought is the last thing on your mind.
âCan you feel it Dan?â you shout as lightening streaks across the sky again. âCan you feel the storm coming?â
Behind you you hear him laugh, and when you swing back again he catches the chains twisting you around to face him.
âI feel something all right.â He says with a smirk.
The next thing you know his lips are crushed against yours and you are fighting to untangle yourself from the twisted chains of the swing. You launch yourself at him, your fingers tangling in his dark curly hair. It doesnât matter that youâre both covered in sweat, you just need to touch him, to hold him.
Suddenly you realize this is what had been missing these past few weeks. The oppressive heat had been making you so miserable that you couldnât remember the last time he had held you this way.
Overhead a bolt of lightning splits the sky and you pull back slightly, resting your forehead against Danâs as you both count quietly.
One⌠Two⌠BOOM
The crack of thunder echoes through the clearing.
âItâs getting close.â He whispers excitedly before pulling you back against him for another kiss.
You laugh, your lips still pressed against his.
This is literally the perfect moment, you think to yourself. We could stay in this drought forever, and it wouldnât matter as long as I have him.
You throw yourself deeper into the kiss, and when the first icy drop of rain hits your back your head snaps up, your eyes searching the sky. Unaware, Dan takes the opportunity to nuzzle your neck and you feel your eyes closing even as you search for signs of the desperately needed rain.
Another drop falls, hitting Dan on the side of the neck and he jolts, nearly knocking you over.
âI think itâs hereâŚâ you begin to tell him, but before you can get the words out the clouds above you rip open and it begins to pour.
âCan you smell it Dan? Can you?â You shout over another boom of thunder.
âSmell what?â he asks, as he tries to shield you from the rain.
You laugh and duck out from under him. You spread your arms and twirl sending dirt and water flying.
âPetrichor!â You shout as you turn to face him again. âItâs the smell of water hitting dust, the smell of rain on dry earth. This is what life smells like Dan!â
You say as you run back to him.
He is laughing, his tawny eyes sparkling in the dim park lights. He holds out his arms and without hesitation you jump into them. He pulls you up off the ground; your body pressed against his, and spins you around like a child.
He spins and spins until he loses his balance and falls backwards, pulling you down on top of him.
âYouâre right.â He tells you, as he tangles his fingers in your wet hair and pulls you down for another kiss. âThis is what life smells like.â
A Chance Meeting
You wake with a jolt. A loud siren is going off in your ears and it takes you a moment to realize that you had fallen asleep with your headphones in and it is the alarm on your phone that has dragged you from your dreams. Tearing the buds from your ears you sit up and rub your eyes. Your surroundings are unfamiliar and it takes a moment for you to remember that you are in a hotel room, and that your best friend is sleeping in the other bed only a few feet away. You silence the alarm before it wakes her and drag yourself out of bed. You stretch, and cringe as your back and shoulders pop loudly. You glance over your shoulder to make sure the sound didnât wake your friend then make your way to the bathroom.
You splash your face and the frigid water wakes you instantly. As you drag a comb through your hair and brush your teeth the excitement youâve barely been able to contain all week starts seeping back in. You are at Playlist Live, and you are still in shock that you actually made it there. In a few hours youâll be lining up to meet your favorite YouTubers and you feel yourself starting to bounce. At some point in the next twelve hours you will know what it feels like to have Phil Lesterâs arms wrapped around you. You will find out first hand exactly what Dan Howell smells like. And as your excitement grows you find yourself letting out a small squeal.

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Trek-A-Thon
The frigid wind howls outside the window as fat clumps of snow start to fall from the sky. It is winter in London, and thirty-eighty stories below you the pedestrians hurry along, heads down against the wind, as they try to escape the cold. But you feel nothing but radiant warmth coming from deep inside.