sketchy theater

fic: but we were in screaming colour (part 1) [collab fic with slimeboyhowell]

summary: au in which artist!dan’s idea of a romantic first date involves interrupting phil’s dissertation research and having sex in a pile of paint. this is their whirlwind relationship, as told in acrylic and prose.

word count: ~4.3k for this part

a/n: megs and i have literally been planning this for months and we can’t be more excited about finally posting this first part!! this is my first time collaborating with anyone on a fic and i’m really happy that i get to do it with not only one of my best buds but also someone whose writing i admire v much!! [here’s her fic page if you live under a rock] this part was written by both of us (it’s split about 50/50 give or take a few hundred words) but a couple of future parts are being written separately!! (have fun guessing who wrote what) (it’s not hard) (also special thanks to abby phantasticalities for editing!! we love u) hope y’all enjoy xoxo meglista

Dan Howell traipses into Phil Lester’s life five minutes late to a film neither of them can pronounce.

It’s some loose Dutch adaptation of For Whom the Bell Tolls that Phil’s erratic American Literature professor, Dr. Tran, had recommended he see for his graduate thesis, lengthily titled America the Beautiful: Cultural and Social Impacts of the Works of Great American Authors. The empty theater was a blessing while it lasted; at five-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon, he doesn’t have the energy to explain why he’s huddled in a corner, notebook in lap, pen ink already staining his impatient fingers.

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Preference 52: Love. Be afraid.

Derek: My little brother has been turned into a werewolf. No matter how many times you thought the sentence or mumbled it under your breath in your room, it never sounded normal. And neither did the mysteriously attractive young boy that was very involved in the situation. Scott had told you everything that had happened immediately afterwards, including the fact that he suspected Derek Hale to be involved in the trouble. As soon as you met Derek, you couldn’t disagree with your brother’s accusation. Because you thought he was holding back information from you, you’d decided to go to Derek’s burned down house with Stiles one afternoon. To put it simply, things didn’t go too well. “Y/N, I’m telling you the truth. Why would I lie about something so easy to prove wrong?” Derek had pointed out when you didn’t believe his little explanation about betas and alphas having different abilities and features. “Because you don’t tell anyone anything accurate! You’ve lied to people before about stupid facts because you just felt like it! Prove to me that you can’t do what I’m saying happened to my brother.” He locked his gaze with you, stepping forward until your chests were touching. You heard Stiles take a step forward before stopping, wanting to see what Derek would do. Suddenly his eyes began glowing a bright blue, causing you to take a light breath. “What color did Scott say the wolf’s eyes were when he was attacked?” “Red.” “Y/N, you of all people should know that you can trust me,” he said lowly. “And why’s that?” you whispered. Derek’s next word were spoken so quietly that there was no way Stiles could hear him, which you were unbelievably thankful for. “Because you and I both know how you feel about me. You like me. A lot. But you’re afraid of me.” “You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “Your heartbeat just spiked when you said that.” Before you could protest again, sirens were heard, and the sound was becoming louder and louder, closer and closer. They were coming for Derek. “Just remember that I’m your only source to the information you need. No matter how much you don’t want to, you know you need to trust me.” A police officer hopped out of his car, quickly making his way to Derek and handcuffing him. You stepped back, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Derek looked back at you once more before getting into the car, his gaze repeating the words he’d spoken only seconds ago. You like me. A lot. But you’re afraid of me. He was right.

Scott: He leaned against Stiles’s locker as they waited for you to return from your conversation with Lydia. Since she’d taken a liking to you when she first noticed you in class on the school’s opening day, you were voted to be the pack’s insider when it came to gathering information about what the populars were up to. It’d been necessary for you to find out some details about plans Jackson had for that night since Stiles suspected he would be trying to get his hands on some dirt about Scott’s new improvement on life, but Scott wasn’t nearly as concerned with it as his friend was. The two of you had made plans to ‘study,’ and, since your previous date, the werewolf couldn’t stop thinking about how strong his feelings for you had grown. He had so much to worry about– finding the alpha, protecting his friends, gaining control over his new powers– and he was terrified for what could possibly be approaching him and the people he cared about, but he couldn’t help but consider that he loved you. Scott knew it was plastered on his face while he waited for you to make your way back to them, and he couldn’t remove the look of pure adoration. “Find anything out?” Stiles asked. “Lydia says they’re going on a date, but she doesn’t know what they’re doing yet.” Stiles groaned. “Of course. The girl of my dreams is going on a date, my best friends are going on a date. Where the hell is my date?” You laughed, and Scott smiled at the crinkle by your eyes, and the lines by your mouth, and the amused glint in your eyes. “Hey, we’re studying. They’re probably going to have sex in a sketchy movie theater closet.” Stiles groaned again, and you leaned onto your boyfriend, wrapping your arm around his before interlacing your fingers. “You kill me, you know that? Y/N, you literally kill me.” And at that Scott had one thought before the three of you began making your way down the corridors to your next class. Tell me about it, Stiles. She’s been killing me since I first saw her.

Stiles: “Scott, do you not remember that you’re a wolf? Literally! A wolf!” Stiles reminded his best friend at their lunch table. “We don’t have time for me to love a girl!” Scott rolled his eyes. “Okay, first of all, it’s basically freaking impossible for me to forget that I’m a wolf. I'm the wolf, Stiles. Second of all, we both know that’s just your excuse to deny your feelings for Y/N! You know she can help us, and that’s why you don’t want to be in love with her.” Stiles scoffed. “Scott, as far as we know, Y/N is the only other non-evil werewolf in this town. We don’t have room for romance when it comes to her! We should be spending our time being scared out of our minds about that fact that there’s an evil werewolf somewhere around here killing people– to death! By murder! With claws, and fangs! Sharp fangs, Scott!” Scott almost didn’t notice the intense hand motions and facial expressions Stiles was creating as he spoke, and he knew it was mainly because you flustered him and he didn’t know what else to do while his heart was pounding so hard. “That doesn’t mean you can’t love the good wolf!” As you walked into the cafeteria unnoticed, you heard a large majority of your friends’ conversation. When you got out of the lunch line and they still weren’t over the topic, you sighed and began muttering to Scott. “Scott,” you said under your breath as you stalled at the napkin dispenser. “I seriously do not want to embarrass him, so could you please change the subject? I would vote for you to tell him I said the feelings are mutual but I have a feeling that’d make lunch a little awkward.” You glanced over at him just as he nodded at you, and took it as a sign to move in. “Hey, Stiles,” you smirked as you slid into the seat beside the lovesick boy. “Scott.” “Well, great. You’re here, Y/N!” Stiles couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he spoke to you, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk you threw at Scott. “We have some wolf stuff to discuss.” “Wolf stuff. Of course.”