smooth dan

smooth jazz dan who wears worn old jumpers that have frayed hems and holes in the sleeves. he pokes his thumb through them sometimes. sitting in cafes and sifting through antique collections piled high in dark rooms and the dusty boxes of secondhand bookstores, curling up everywhere and becoming a human blanket to anyone he’s close to at the time. floppy soft limbs and smelling perpetually like vanilla.

he writes poetry in long scrawling handwriting where the letters flow one from to the other and overlaps too much to really make sense, but that’s okay because he’s not going to read them back anyway. tucked in his back pocket is a worn leather notebook that’s wrinkled and stained from hot chocolate and smells of dust when he opens it. he doesn’t know why. the pages are filled with doodles of trees and birds and music notes and the doodles continue onto his arms and legs and chest, tattooed there by an artist who was too tired that day to really think about why he’s forever engraving a small inked cat onto a man’s wrist.

he tucks his sometimes wavy, sometimes not hair into beanies and berets and listens to saxophone covers of artists he doesn’t know the names of. sitting by the window of a near empty diner, tipping his head back against the cool glass. 2am and the lights are flickering, a waitress is wiping down the table, a couple a few seats over are whispering and giggling to each other. it’s raining outside and he feels he’s in his element.

he draws on his sneakers, they’re covered in dumb things and he doesn’t remember what any of them mean. he’s forgetful and stumbles over words sometimes but when he thinks carefully he can string together pretty pretty sentences that stay with you all day. he sings soft into the mic and you can feel it somewhere in your stomach. fingers barely touch the keys, light and carefree and loving. he plays a quiet song that settles peoples hearts into a rhythm, gentle gentle gentle.

he sits on tables and the floor and in corners, everywhere where you shouldn’t really sit. he laughs with his whole body, head tipped back, dimpled smile and crinkled eyes. it’s low and soft and deep in his chest, and he’s in the habit of quietly giggling about something for hours, remembering just when it’s about to slip his mind and he’s grinning all over again. he’s a human furnace — being wrapped in one of his hugs is to hug the very feeling of contentment. even though he’s always warm he likes to wear sweaters and cardigans, rips the knees out of black skinny jeans and tucks pens and pencils behind his ears. he collects patches and sows them into a worn denim jacket even though he can’t really sow. 

he wore bandages on his arms for the aesthetic of it once. he lasted three days before he had to stop — people kept asking him what was wrong. he’s like that, finds it hard to settle into something. everything is too sluggish, too mellow, like dragging footsteps, it’s difficult for him to get a grip on a passing fancy when it just slips on by and get lost in the cracks. like neck scarves and glittery eyeshadow and matte black nail polish, like writing to his parents and watering his plants on time, like eating his five veg a day. some things stay, but they’re so deeply ingrained that he can’t let go of them even if he tried. they’re not habits anymore, they’re parts of him, bits that prop up daniel james howell like clay, shape him carefullovingkind into… just dan. there’s too many to list.

his hands are smooth and his skin is soft but his eyes are softer. they’ve seen a lot of bad, but a lot of good too and he’s okay with trying to focus on that. once he took home a stray cat, he doesn’t really know why. it looked a little too sad and he felt a little too easy, and his sweaters were covered in fur for a week. it ran away during the night and he never saw it again, sometimes missed the little purrs that created a comforting backdrop on late nights spent writing. he’s okay with it being gone, it must be somewhere better than his apartment that’s overflowing with unwashed coffee cups and weird dangly plants that he’s never quite clear on the living status of and so so so many sheets of music.

he once spent a whole night looking at the sky, eyes tracing the stars and creating his own constellations, like the ones tattooed on his wrists. he sees dragons and mountains and flowers and knows the tales he’s spinning for himself aren’t real but its fine. 

he follows his own story.

Phil's Aftershave

A/N: Phil mentioned in his live show on Saturday (21.02.15) that he bought a new aftershave and this little fic spilled out somehow. This is so fluffy you might cry.

Title: Phil’s Aftershave

Genre: Pure fluff at its best. And mentions of smut. Domesticated bliss.

Description: Phil buys a new aftershave and Dan can’t get enough of it, or him.

Word Count: 1000

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fluorescent lights dancing on pale skin

desc; businessman!dan frequents the masquerade strip club downtown and the new blue-masked boy happens to be just what he needs to relax (circa 1924)

beta; thank you to hazy( @muserdan​ ) for the amazing english teacher type betaing and like literally saving me because I really wasn’t going to upload this because i could not proofread for like a million reasons ^-^

a/n; idea of the club from panic!at the disco’s video

sorry if this isnt what you wanted anons!! i figured since u only asked for more bottom phil it would be alright to write something new instead.


Dan walked out of the bathroom, grabbing his coat from the rack and checking his hair in the mirror. His maid, Lucille, was bustling around the two room apartment, picking up clothes and washing dishes, sparing Dan a glance every so often.

“You’re going to get caught sometime, you know,” she quips, straightening Dan’s tie and smoothing his petticoat.

Dan just rolls his eyes and smiles. “That’s the fun part,“

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REQUEST 105 ~ Teased live (Smut)


Dan’s smooth voice flowed through the halls of the apartment as he addressed his live show. No uncommon things for a Tuesday night  however tonight was different. Before he went to start his broadcast he had been sat with me on the sofa watching t.v and leading a pretty heated make out session with me but his other priority called for him and it unfortunately left me feeling very sexually frustrated and needy for him. 

I tried to be patient for him to be done but with every word he spoke i just get even more needy. I want him, I want him now!  Quickly i made my way to the bedroom and listened in closer. He had only began it about 2 or 3 minutes ago, meaning he was only just finishing introducing everyone to the show. Thankfully he was doing his Dan-ception thing, i speedily walked over to his desk gain a look of pure confusion from him. 

I slowly got onto my hands and knees and crawled under his desk. He shut his laptop and placed it on the table, keeping his gaze on me still until he realised that people were watching him.  I kept silent and waited for the right moment to start my teasing. Once his full attention was on answering a question i started run both my hands up his legs. To my luck he was wearing sweat pants, in my book the easiest trousers for him to wear to gain access for me. 

As my hands got higher up his legs, i could feel the muscles tense. My gaze went to his crotch noticing his appearing arousal. My hands brushed over his covered dick and i could hear his breath alter as he talked. I brushed over his dick again this time adding pressure. The overwhelming urge to got on with it got too much, i slipped my hands into the sweatpants and past his underwear. I pulled out his hard dick and kissed the tip. 

Dan took a deep breath, spurring me on. I slowly licked all the way up his length, swirling my tongue over the tip. His hips trembled as i fully inserted him into my mouth. As i bobbed my head up and down him i made sure to keep a slow pace to make him thrive for more. 

“I erm, yeah…” Dan stuttered as he answered a question causing me to smile at the effect i was having on him. 

I continued the same rhythm feeling him getting closer as i went. I closed my eyes and massaged the vein leading on the underside of his dick with my tongue. Suddenly a moan escaped his lips. Everyone heard that and knowing his audience, they wouldn’t let that go unacknowledged. 

“Sorry guys, i’m going to have to cut this short. I’ll see you next week, Bye.” He rushed out and clicked end. He slid his chair back and looked at me. 

“You little minx! Sucking me off while i was talking to my fans. I think that calls for punishment, doesn’t it?” He said playfully glaring at me with red cheeks. 

I nodded shyly and crawled out from under the desk, sitting on my knees in front of him. Dan’s hands went to my shoulders pulling me up so i was standing in front of him. He moved them down to the waist of my trousers and pulled them down sharply. I had decided earlier on today to not wear underwear which clearly came in handy now. 

A small smiled appeared on his lips once he noticed the lack of undergarments. Dan moved one of his hands to my ass pulling my hips closer to him. His breath fanned over my pussy making me shiver and close my eyes again. His other hand glided up my thigh towards my crotch drawing a line along the length of my pussy. “Mmmhh.” I sighed and held his shoulders. 

“You like that baby?” He asked. 

I nodded as his finger circled over the sensitive nub. 

“Aw, well i didn’t appreciate you teasing me in front of my audience. Especially after you caused me to moan out loud. So how about a taste of your own medicine.” He drew back his finger and instead grabbed my hips and pushed me towards the bed. 

“Lay down, legs open.” He demanded as he stood at the end of the bed. 

I complied and Dan promptly lined himself up with me. He hastily entered me, thrusting vigorously and not giving me a moment to breath. It felt amazing to have him be so rough hitting all the spots that i didn’t think would give me that much pleasure. “Oh god, Yes!!” i screamed as his tip brushed over my g-spot. 

I could feel my incoming high and i was enjoying it. Just as it was arriving Dan pulled out. I glared at him for denying me an orgasm. “Oh you think you get to come right away. No,no, no baby. You are going to have to wait.”  Dan pulled his sweats back up and walked out of the room. Leaving me laying on the bed on the edge of an orgasm. 

Bastard. 

Bastille on stage

Dan: awkwardly moves around the stage while having the time of his life.

Kyle: no facial movement or whatever.

Will: looking hella fine with his half smile half bad ass look.

Woody: sits and does his thing.

Charlie: RANDOMLY APPEARS ON THE STAGE DURING A FESTIVAL AND THE INTERNET FANDOM GOES CRAZY BECAUSE WOW THERES A NEW MEMBER WHO THE ACTUAL FARQUARSON IS HE?!