i know i was going to write more than this but then it started getting close to 700 words so i had to stop :

A Cute Dog & A Cuter Boy

Summary: Dan Howell is walking home in the rain with his groceries when an adorable dog (and its equally adorable owner) inconveniently meet.
Word Count: 700ish, I KNOW IT’S SHORT SORRY I SUCK AT WRITING
Pairing: Phan, what’d you expect
TW: none come to mind
Tags: getting together, AU, fluff

DISCLAIMER: all of these events are fictional and i don’t own any characters.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Dan thought as he felt a raindrop plop on top of his (straightened, for goodness sake!) hair. He looked up at the sky and scowled at the grey clouds that were threatening to spill. Quickening his pace, he adjusted his grocery bags and headed toward the tube.

Not even four minutes later he heard an “Oof!” and was knocked to the ground. His groceries went flying and he prepared himself to scream at the rude entity that was making his day a whole lot harder.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! Here, let me get these for you! I was walking my dog and it started to rain so she bolted and I tried to stop her but I failed,” the stranger rambled. He handed Dan the bags that had been catapulted and sat down to catch his breath.

“I am so, so sorry. Susan, really? I’m gonna have to remember to check the weather forecast before walking you anywhere. I’m Phil, sorry to have to make your acquaintance this way.” Dan sighed and held out his hand, and Phil grabbed it and pulled him up. Phil’s dog, Susan, was a shibu inu, and she was adorable (as well as Phil), and Dan found himself smiling.
“It’s alright, really. My name is Dan.”
It was really starting to pour and he realized his hair had definitely gone curly again. He groaned.
“Is everything okay? I mean other then the fact that I probably just ruined your day?” Phil said nervously.
Dan laughed softly and said, “Hobbit hair. I spent twenty minutes trying to straighten it earlier but it was a massive waste of time.”
“Don’t worry about it, it suits you. Now, if you aren’t busy, can I take you to get ice cream? I mean, I kind of owe it to you after what just happened. If you want, we can stop back to my place and you can borrow some dry clothes before we go,” Phil said hopefully. Dan smiled at him and they headed off.

~~~~~

“You look like you’d be my size. I’m gonna feed Susan, you can wear anything you’d like,” said Phil. Dan nodded as Phil left the room, and started searching through Phil’s wardrobe. He had some really cool clothes (not any black, unfortunately), and Dan settled for a pair of skinny jeans, a plain t-shirt, a Muse sweatshirt, and a pair of socks with little foxes on them, and went to find Phil.
“I can’t believe you like Muse too, it’s one of my favorite bands,” said Dan.
“Believe it, you’re wearing my merch,” Phil laughed. He grabbed Dan’s hand and pulled him towards the door.

~~~~~

After a ten minute walk huddled under an umbrella, the two stopped at a small vintage-style ice cream shop. They each ordered and Phil asked Dan to find them seats.

“I need to pay first,” Dan said, confused.

“I’ve got it, silly boy. I owe you.”
Dan blushed. Lending him clothes, sharing his umbrella, and buying him ice cream just because his dog knocked him over? Phil was too kind.

“And here you go,” Phil smiled as he handed Dan his ice cream. The men chatted for a while, and eventually they realized it had been a fairly long time some they had finished their sundaes.
“Well, thank you so much Phil. This was really nice of you. If you, ya know, ever want to hang out again since you’re pretty cool and all, uh, here’s my number?” Dan stuttered. Phil laughed and typed Dan’s number into his phone. They threw out their napkins and exited the shop.

“Wait, you have a bit of chocolate of your nose,” Phil said with a smirk. Dan felt himself turn more red than he thought possible as Phil leaned in a bit to gently wipe away the fudge with his thumb. Dan looked at him and slowly closed the distance to press a gently kiss to Phil’s lips. They smiled shyly at each other and headed their separate ways.

~~~~~

From: Phil L :3

Yesterday was surreal. Want to get coffee with me later to prove it wasn’t just a dream? I’ll bring your groceries that you left here (don’t worry, I didn’t eat any of them XD). Also, I’m expecting to get my clothes back ;) xx

~~~~~

A/N: wow that was interesting and really weird and i may have written it in like half an hour oops hope you like it anyways ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ i don’t have a beta so there’s probably quite a few errors, sorry :/

if anyone wants a sequel to this i could attempt to write one based on the coffee shop date. message me!

Hard truth

Here is the fifth addition to the short-Shots that I’ve been doing. I hope that you are are enjoying these. They really are helping me get back into the swing of things and I know that you guys are really wanting me to just start writing for my series again! Just hold on and we’ll get there!! Note if you guys want to join in just tag me in a story that is no longer than 700 words. I’ll be picking my top ten favorites and making them into a post on Thursday! So send them in!!! Alright. 

No trigger warnings. 

Tags: @latinenglishfandomblog @aprofoundbondwithdean @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @winchesterenthusiast @mrswhozeewhatsis @mamapeterson @the-mrs-deanwinchester @spnfanficpond @that70sgroove @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid


You walked into the motel room and all eyes were on you. Sam and Dean had stayed in the room while you went out for some ‘air’. What you really did was go to a bar and drink till you couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

That night you and Dean had gotten into an argument about who was going to the nest of vampires in the town. Both him and Sam had stated that there was no way in hell that you were going and that was final. When you made your case Sam backed off. 

He knew that you were going either way, no matter what he said. You would always find a way. Whether it was swooping in and saying the day or just forcing your way into the car by force. 

Dean didn’t give into this truth. 

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uncriticality  asked:

Johnlock 20

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

Do you remember when you were caught up on that bloody tar thing? Probably not. It was just another day. A nothing kind of everyday. Not that any day was everyday, and not that I didn’t spend too many hours of my life to count on the fingers of all the people I know trying to remember every second of every one of them after– 

We’d been out on a case and we got back and you were in some kind of tailspin and I was trying to talk to you and everything I said went in one ear and got stuck somewhere, sunk into an empty pool or drifted up into undusted corners or somewhere and mouth off at me for waxing poetic all you like but if you try to tell me one more time that your mind’s a well oiled machine I’ll laugh in your face I promise you, I’ll do it. You didn’t hear a word I said. Or you did and you just weren’t listening. 

I didn’t understand back then, and I was angry, and I walked away. Kept my mouth shut, thank God. I know I didn’t always. But you were stalking around the place like a man possessed and I thought, he’s going for the cigarettes, and then I thought it’s none of my business but you made it my business when you asked for my help and I made it my business when I gave it to you, so I didn’t leave. Stopped halfway down the stairs, turned around and walked back. You didn’t even notice. That’s how I knew that whatever it was had its roots in deep. I walked back up the stairs, back into the kitchen, and I might as well have been a ghost.

You were still tearing about. Smaller than a cig hunt somehow, flightier, and I remember having this flashback to the crimescene, with the birds dripping oil everywhere and the drum with the body in it still oozing, slickslipping the dregs down the bank and into the water. They’d been shaking their wings to get free from what clung to them and you hopped over furniture and aborted steps, twisted back in on yourself to take a safer route like you were darting out from under shadows. I was scared for you, actually. I didn’t know what was chasing you, but I genuinely had an urge to go for my gun.

I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. It was just you in the front room, pacing around like you always do. Maybe a bit angrier than usual, but not a problem. Nothing too far out of the ordinary. Everything’s fine.

 I stayed where I was. 

It took a while for me to realise you were muttering. You were making more noise with your stomping than you were with your voice and I couldn’t hear a word, but I could pick out the timbre. You know how you can train your ears into something once you pick up on it? What am I saying. You know. Of course you know. I tuned into the sound of your voice. It took a while, it really did, and I had to cheat and take my chances and try to slip a little closer without clueing you in that I was there - don’t know why it was important that you didn’t notice but at that point I felt like a secret, like a spy. I got close enough. I started picking out words.

“– ones closest to the water, the feathers –”

Stood there for a while, catching snippets, trying to find sense.

“– they’ll never fly again –”


You’re so gentle. God, you’re so gentle. Sometimes, sometimes you’d come out with stuff like this. Stuff like coming home fuming because the birds were beyond saving. Stuff like coming home glowing because the hairpin had a market value of £9 mil, and the look on her face had been worth the world. 

I didn’t know what to do with it. I never knew what to do with it. It was incredible, it was wonderful. You were wonderful. 

But it stung somewhere, and at the time I didn’t know why. So I boxed it up and I put it away and every time it happened again I cherished it, put it in the box, and forgot. And that was easier. That was easier than knowing you weren’t the man in the coat and the suit and £700 shirts. That was easier than living with a man who was just a man and thinking too hard about why I could look you in the eye for hours if you never looked away and why I kept talking in circles and why you kept talking back in the opposite direction and why I want the things I’m never going to touch, like peace and like danger and like the man who lounges around in pyjamas and silk dressing gowns but strips down to costumeless to sleep at night, so he’s not fooling anyone. 

I never got rid of it though. And one day you were the one in a box, in the ground, all of you, and that was when I took the secret pieces out. I found them again when I was busy working over every memory I had (and there were a lot, a hell of a lot, thank God I’m not as dense as standing next to you makes me out to be) and I unboxed them and I lifted them out, pressed them back between the pages they belonged between. I think I knew you better in that month after you went than I ever did before. Than I ever knew I did, anyway. Than I ever let myself.



And now I’m fucked. I’m fucked, honestly. I opened it up, it’s out now. Can’t un-know it. And whenever I see it, whenever I see you, you under all the rest of it, I can’t help but notice. And I see you a lot now. You’re always there. You’re not as well buried as you used to be. 



Be careful, yeah? Look after yourself.

No more April fools

“Phil, can you hear that?!” Dan shouted from the slight gap of a hallway.

“Hear what?” Phil rolled his eyes. He was trying to write a script for his new video but had no ideas and was just going insane. The only thing he’d achieved today was managing to annoy himself with the continuous tapping of his pen.

“It..it sounds like there’s someone in the house. Phil, Phil – I’m scared!” Dan started to stutter and whisper.

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