I did a thing that’s kind of a joke based off this post from @chocolate-covered-trash and also @shooklynn ^.^

Dan was sitting on the sofa, browsing through Tumblr when he noticed Phil quietly enter the “snug.” Phil had been pretty quiet all day, actually. A bit slouched; a bit tired-looking. He could tell Phil was sad, even if Phil refused to admit it. But what could he say to make his boyfriend feel better when Phil didn’t even tell him what was wrong?

Dan reached up and tugged on Phil’s arm, putting his laptop on the table before gently pulling Phil down to his lap. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend while Phil nestled his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. 

“This would be a lot more comfortable if you weren’t 6 feet tall.” Dan muttered with a kiss to Phil’s head and Phil fought back his smile.

Dan began to hum Interrupted By Fireworks as he ran his fingers along Phil’s waist.

Phil felt soft and safe and happy in Dan’s arms and right now, this was all he could think about... until Dan interrupted.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester Characters: Dan Howell, Phil Lester Additional Tags: Phanfiction, Phan - Freeform, Sad, sad fic, Piano, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, One Shot, First Kiss, Cute, Dan is playing "Ingenue" on piano, Phil is crying, Hot Chocolate Summary:

 1. How does Clint react when he finds Phil’s stuffed Captain America toy that Phil slept with as a child and may or may not still talk to on bad days?

“It was hard today, Cap. Sometimes that place makes me feel so small and insignificant, and I wonder how I’m ever meant to handle the responsibility of keeping this whole world safe.” Phil sighs. “I’m so glad I have you.”

There is something twisting inside Clint’s stomach as he listens, one hand on the bedroom door. Has he neglected Phil this badly? He opens the door slowly, expecting to see Steve, perfect Steve, wrapped around his boyfriend.

Instead he sees Phil curled up on the covers, a tattered bear squashed against his arms. He can see its mask, bleached-blue and bobbled from overwashing, stamped with the brand from Captain America’s uniform. He imagines a tiny Phil, gangly-limbed and too awkward to fit in anywhere, with only this bear as comfort. 

He walks to the bed. “Hey, you.”

Phil’s eyes are red-rimmed. “Hey.”

“You cuddling with Cap?”

Phil scans Clint’s face looking for signs he’s being made fun of but doesn’t find any, just genuine concern and care. When he answers, his voice sounds thick. “Yeah.”

Clint strokes his hair. “Room for a third?”