#danimagine

[myskinnyjeandreams]

Phil: Hey babe, can you pass me the remote?

Dan: "I mean I could, but, why would I want to?" ;)

Phil: ....

Dan: ....

Phil: ....

Dan: it's selen-

Phil: get out of my house

[literallydanimagines]

Dan Howell Imagine - Movie Premier

I wake up at approximately 8 in the morning out of pure excitement. Today is my boyfriend's movie opening. It isn't a big role, but it still counts as his first movie. I untangle myself from his arms, careful not to wake him up. First, I head downstairs to our home workout room. I run my daily mile and finish my squat routine. The exercise helps me to relax and it doesn't hurt to strengthen the buns. I head to the kitchen and pull out all the ingredients for pancakes, knowing the recipe by heart because they're Dan's favourites. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and I smile to myself. "I think I smell heaven!" Dan enters the kitchen pajama clad. "Those kirby pants never get old," I laugh to myself. He smiles and hugs me from behind. "Sweaty and beautiful," he whispers in my ear. I laugh and push him away. "Well at least I try to stay in shape." He pouts.  "I was talking about the pancakes." I can't control the stupid grin on my face. We sit down at the breakfast bar and grab a helping of pancakes. "Perfectly golden brown." He says squeezing lemon over his pancakes. "I'm excited for today, male technician 1." He replies, "Me too. There's supposed to be an actual Baymax there." His eyes roll back as he takes a bite. "Jesus Christ these are delicious." He leans over and gives me a kiss, tasting of sugar and pancake. "Mmm," I hum. "I should probably eat my own pancakes though." We laugh. After breakfast is done, I head to the bathroom. Turning on the shower head, I undress and grab my special exfoliating scrub. "What's that for?" Dan asks, scaring me. "Shit, Dan." I hold my heart. "I didn't even hear you come in." He shrugs. "I need a shower too." He takes off his clothes and I follow him into the shower. He raises the shower head so the water actually reaches his hair, grinning down at me. "I hate you," I say. He presses our bodies close and runs his hands through my dampening hair. "Well I love you." He looks into my eyes and I feel like melting. He grabs the shampoo and begins to wash my hair. I sink my back into his chest and close my eyes. He kisses my shoulder as water rinses out suds. "You know," I say opening my eyes. "I would do the same if your head wasn't so far up. He laughs while shampooing his own hair. I grab my body scrub and wash myself in the meantime. He runs his hands over my body. "Smooth." He concludes. I laugh and grab his body wash. He watches me as my hands work his body clean. I focus on massaging every muscle. He lets out a sigh of contentment. Too soon, we're finished. I step out of the shower, handing Dan a towel. He kisses me thank you. "Shit." I look at the clock. "I have to go to Phil's to get ready." He hurriedly gets dressed, and I put on a robe. "Good luck. I'll see you there. Love you." I give him a hug. He gives me a smile. "Love you too." I spend the next 4 hours lazily getting ready and watching Gossip Girl on the TV. When I arrive at the event, there are paparazzi everywhere. The main cast must already be here. I park my car in the venue's parking lot and head for the back entrance. I do not want to go through the red carpet area. I give the security guard my name ,and he lets me through. I sit down in the lounge and watch the TV's explaining the action going on the red carpet. Dan and Phil's limo drives up soon and the paparazzi swarm them. Of course, they look wonderful. I smile to myself seeing Dan's selection of suit, black and white of course. They go through a stream of interviews and finally make it to me in the lounge. "Hey male technician 1 and 2." I stand up and hug Phil. "Hey Jamie. You look beautiful." I step back and lean into Dan's embrace. "Not so bad yourself, Lester." He laughs. I wrap my arm around Dan's waist and look up at him. "You do look beautiful." He ducks his head down and gives me a kiss. "I see you've stuck to the colours on your colour wheel," I comment. He chuckles. "You know me." We chat for a little before someone from the crew leads us to our seats. The director comes out and says a few opening words and soon we are watching the movie. When Dan and Phil's scene comes up I nearly rip their arms off I get so excited. "Your voice is so sexy on that male technician," I whisper into Dan's ear. He chokes back a laugh. After the movie is over, we all applaud and head to the after party. They cut a giant cake in the shape of Baymax's head. Both Dan and Phil are chatting to one of the producers so I head over to the table to grab cake for all of us. I feel a hand on my back as I try to weave through the crowd of people. "Can I buy you a drink?" A man my age whom I recognise as the voice of the main character meets me when I turn around. "You're Ryan Potter!" I say enthusiastically. "Congrats! You did amazing with the character. I loved it." He gives me a smile. "I mean, playing a 15 can't be that hard." I politely laugh. "Maybe." He steps closer. "So my offer still stands. How about a drink?" I shake my head. "Sorry I don't drink." He nods. "Of course. A pretty girl like you can't drink alcohol and still have skin like that." I keep the conversation modest. "Well I credit it to my Japanese father." He studies my face. "So is my father! I assume you're mixed?" He asks. "Yeah my mother is Hispanic." He nods. "The two most beautiful races." He laughs and I smile. A big hand that I recognise finds its way around my waist. "Hey Ryan!" Dan says not letting his jealously show. Ryan's eyes flash down to Dan's protective arm around my waist. I internally laugh at the situation. What are we? Animals? "Dan! It's been a success! Am I right?" Dan laughs loudly. "Yeah man! This is Jamie, my girlfriend." If Ryan is disappointed he hides it. I give a short wave. "Want some cake?" Dan asks me. "Yeah sure." I reply. "Well I'll see you later I guess, Dan. You know Jamie if this guy ever gets out of hand," Ryan winks. "I'm here." He walks away leaving both Dan and I in shock. "Let's get cake for the road," I suggest. We take my car home and the ride is spent singing along to Muse avoiding conversation. "Can you unzip my dress?" I ask Dan once we are back home. "Of course, love." He moves my hair and carefully unzips the dress. "You looked beautiful tonight." He says. I take off the dress and lay it on the chair next to our bed. Walking up to Dan, I pull him into a kiss. "You know I love you, right?" I look into his eyes. "Yes." He sighs. "He just made me kind of jealous." I reach up and take off Dan's blazer laying it on top of my dress. I unbutton his shirt and his hands rest on my hips, feeling the smooth skin. "You don't need to be jealous. I've only got eyes for you." Dan shrugs out of the shirt and leans down to kiss me. I open my mouth, letting his tongue invade my mouth. I quickly unzip his dress pants. "Legs for days." I smile against his lips. He presses our bodies close. His hands travel to my butt, squeezing. "Dan, please." I sit on the bed as he takes his briefs off. He lays down and I straddle his waist. Our breathing becomes quicker as our kissing deepens. "Maybe I should start jogging," he says breathless. I laugh. "Love if you keep wiggling your butt I'm not going to last very long." I get off of him and once again laugh. He lay on my stomach and his pulls off my panties. "Safety first," I hear him say rolling on a condom. I bury my head into the pillow. I love this dork. He props my hips up and slowly pushes in. My heart is pounding. His body conforms to mine and he resists the want to take me quick. "You okay?" I adjust and one nod has him gently thrusting in and out picking up pace. I listen to his low grunts and try to suppress any of my strange noises. "Breathe, love," Dan says. My vision goes blurry as we both reach our highs. "Congratulations, Dan. I'm so proud of you." I say one final time. He kisses my cheek. "Love you."

[shitimagines]

imagine you walking through the busy streets, suddenly by fate you look up - and you lock eyes with none other than dan howell, he walks up to you, leaning towards your ear, your heart starts racing, you wonder if he's feeling as nervous as you, and then he whispers gently into your ears... "papaya"

[colorlesshowell-blog]

Driven Insane

tbh i like this idea and i actually had a good idea omg

Genre: pssh, no one needs a genre

Rating: a five year old could read this and not be traumatized if that tells you anything

okay now don't go asking for prompts because i probably won't do them okay okay

It's 3:25 am, and she should be asleep. But she isn't. She can only think about him, and the way him, and the way he makes her feel. But no, she shouldn't be thinking about him or anything related to him, because they're a world's length apart.

But she still thinks about him.

He thinks about her too. They had both decided before she left that a world couldn't keep them apart. But at this point, that didn't matter. They let the distance get between them, and they stopped talking, stopped Skyping, stopped calling, stopped texting. They lost each other.

And now all she can think about is his brown hair and mesmerizing brown eyes and they way he treated her so well, and how she'll probably never get that back. And all he's thinking about is her blonde hair and bright green eyes and how they captivated him and how she was always so sensitive and innocent and how nothing ever fazed her, and how he'll probably never get that back.

The thought is driving her insane. Beyond insane. She feels like it's destroying her mind, the thought of never having him back. She accidentely let him become the biggest part of her life. She let him take over, when she promised that she wouldn't let him. She wanted to be with him while she was in London for the time being, and then she would go back to New York. But no, he captivated her, and she let him in. She made this mistake.

And he didn't want to let her become such a huge part of her life, either. He knew that she had to leave soon. He was going to just let her fall out of his life. But he can't do that now, because he let her become his entire world.

And now they don't talk, they don't see each other, and they have no intention of taking the flight to London or New York to see each other. 

And they'll never see each other again.

And it's driving them insane.

[ishipmeandbed-blog]

first gif ive ever made😌

[meowbowtie]

I think this is one of my favourite pharases of Dan.

[flippingyoutubers-blog]

A Study in Oculesics

A/N: i should be studying *grandma voice* technology is toxic

yeh idk im at a university library pretending to study there r lots of cute male specimens in my eye range and my hand slipped and i wrote this oh no

   Oculesics: the study of eye contact; one of the most basic forms of human communication*

Her

Hour: ???  I am still seat-bound to a scarcely padded aluminum chair on the third floor of the University library.The table before me is littered with common-college-student-cramming-for-final-exams-type crap. I feel my eyes beginning to blur, and my pile of papers slowly morphs into a giant, multicolored (if daunting) blob. The library is serenely silent, and almost cozy, if not for the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights overhead. I blink and gaze dumbly out of the giant arch window next to me. Despite the wintry weather, a steady stream of students march along the sidewalk, backpacks bulging and earbuds slipped in. I watch the scene with a cow-like interest, as one would watch mindless television.

  That's when I notice the boy. Mostly because he's standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. Tall, dark-haired, and even from here I can see the rich chocolate of his eyes. Of course, part of that could be due to the fact that he's staring straight at me. I'm too surprised to react, at first. Besides from the fact that I didn't know it was possible to make unplanned eye contact from three stories up, I'm wondering, naturally: who, what, why, and how. My ninth grade journalism teacher would be proud.

  It is at this point in my lagging, brain-fried inner monologue that I realize he's looked away. I'm surprised, again, because generally in any sort of awkward social encounters I'm the one who breaks contact. But no - the boy is now speed-walking away, head held low. Maybe it was a shadow caused by the early evening sun, but I swear I saw a red flush creeping up his neck, like a rash.

  I'm still not sure whether to consider the incident creepy, coincidental, or cute. I suppose it's whatever I decide, and I choose on a mixture of the three. (Although mainly, being a hopeless romantic, the last one.) I decide, somewhat arrogantly, that the boy, whoever he is, has secretly admired me from afar for a number of months. (creepy+cute) Then, one day, while innocently passing by the library at the perfect time, he happens to look up at just the right moment to make eye contact with me. Yes, totally, plausible! I laugh at myself, both out of annoyance and awe for my unlikely but highly optimistic explanation. Suddenly I remember I'm in public, and that my laughter sounds insane, as there is nothing in front of me but notes on Alexander the Great.

Him

I feel a bit like a cynical New- York- writer-type, the kind who are always slightly tipsy and walk with their heads down, the ones that wear trench coats and mutter under their breath about the stupidity of humanity. Except I'm a twenties-something college student with a One Direction backpack. (I'm using it ironically, y’know.) The whole-hating-humanity-thing though? I could totally get behind that. I mean, I don't necessarily hate humanity, I just have a serious problem with people who decide the hallway/sidewalk/other narrow public space is really their own personal garden path, and they are merely taking a lovely little stroll. And don't even get me started on couples. If you want to walk in the park, GO TO THE PARK.

  I'm mentally taken aback by how angry I've become in a matter of seconds. Of course, I've had a crap morning. Basically, I overslept and missed my trigonometry final, and now it's a race against time (and the Uni gods) to beg my professor for mercy. Trigonometry. I snort. Yep, totally and completely useful class. I mean, really? Because a mugger is obviously going to approach you and go, "Alright, mate, give me your iphone."  And then, you would clearly reply with omething along the lines of "No, good sir, for I have the POWER OF TRIANGLES." I imagine this line spoken with a super lame voice effect, complete with primary colored triangles shooting from your hand like a bad children's cartoon. I laugh, and add it to my ever-expanding list of Videos to Make. By now, I'm laughing embarrassingly hard, imagining the scene, and I trip. Up the sidewalk.

  I sigh/laugh at my complete lack of grace and dignity, and clamber to my feet, freezing for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. That's when I see her.

  She's sitting behind an arch window, bent over intently, presumably studying. Her profile almost seems to be glowing, and even though I can't make out her exact features, my stomach flips, because every inch of her has been imprinted in my mind since the first time I saw her. Freshmen year, pre-calculus. (Some maths are, in fact, useful.) It was a hot August day, and she walked in late to class...with a Starbucks cup in her hand. I nearly burst out laughing, seeing a meme come to life. But I didn't. Because she was beautiful. Her skin was the color of a smooth ocean rock, her eyes the color of dancing waves. Hair fit for a mermaid and a mouth in the shape of a ship ready to set sail. I observed her, carefully and as un-creepily as possible in the next few weeks. I was searching for flaws, a shark in the water. Unsurprisingly, I found none, aside from her lack of punctuality. (She was also horrible at math. I once would glanced at her test scores and my eyebrows nearly dropped off.) But it didn’t matter, honestly. She was kind and intelligent and one time she picked up my pen when I dropped it and I reached for it with shaking fingers, praying she wouldn’t notice.  She was exquisite, exotic, extraordinary. And, best of all: she existed. She was real. She was real and tangible, yet entirely unattainable. She was the ocean and I was a single speck of sand. This, however, did not stop me from dreaming about her constantly, in a way that would make my friends cringe and bring about a slew of mockery. Hell, it made me cringe. I would be doing some completely mundane action, such as laundry, and she would crash over me like a wave, and suddenly I swear she was there, or at least it felt like she was, sitting on top of the washer, kicking her legs and telling me a story, and I’d make fun of her voice because it was vibrating with the machine, and she’d – Oh. Gods. I was even embarrassing myself. Except… I reminded myself. Except this time she was here. In the flesh. Three stories away, but here, not only in my mind’s eye. And that counts for something.

My train of thought screeched to a halt, and with a sudden flash of horror, I realized I’d been staring at her the entire time I’d been thinking.  How long had it been? 7 seconds? 3 minutes? 2 years?  A lifetime? I had no idea, and the worst part was, she was staring back at me.

Here is what happened next. It is wholly true, I swear on the Supreme Wizard of Maltesers, but I know no one will ever believe me. I don’t even know if I believe myself, but this is what I felt: Time froze. Every cell in my body performed an acrobatic leap. (I’m sorry, but I literally cannot think of a less flamboyant way to describe it.) Every cell in my body sang, and for a brief, fleeting, beautiful moment, I actually considered doing something. Anything. Waving. Climbing up the side of the library building, bursting through the window, and kissing her the way she deserved to be kissed, while shards of glass rained down around us. And then, as quickly as my fantasy occurred, I heard the pieces of glass hit the floor, sounding like hail hitting a frozen lake. I felt every cell in my body crash to the ground. It was like someone had driven a nail into my chest, with a hammer. Shattering me from the inside out.

And like a coward, I slunk away. My eyes glued themselves to my shoes, and I placed one foot in the front of the other, each step heavy as stone. I was disappointed, both in myself and in the world, for lining up all the miniscule and minute factors to lead this crashing crescendo of a moment, plucking me from the dry dirt and plunging my raw, fresh heart into a sea of false hopes and mad, unhealthy inexplicable infatuation.

So I slunk away, dragging my feet like a rock refusing to be carried by the wind. I was heart-deep in self-pity and regret when I heard the sound. I still don’t know what it was, to this day. I hold the belief, albeit secretly, it was the gods, or God, singular, clinking his Spoon of Fate against an empty cup and it echoed all the way down to Earth. Whatever you believe, it made me turn around, and without meaning to my eyes immediately found the third story arch window.  My cells sang and danced and performed. There was an entire circus inside of me. She was still there, staring at me – but there was a smile playing on her lips, and when she saw me, she waved. A slow, unassuming but utterly assuring wave that crashed over me like a million shards of invisible, painless glass, each one reflecting the brilliant light of her eyes.

A/N: there are literally so many flaws with this imagine like um castastrophic mary sue characterization for girl + dan, the ocean metaphors were nicholas sparks worthy ie gag worthy, dan’s bit = overly detailed and longer that hers, also don’t even get me started on grammar errors ergh im sorry wait *dan voice* btw i wrote this entire imagine """""ironcally"""" so uhhh i didnt really mean it l o l pls dont hit me

*note*: ayyy i took some artistic liberty with the defintion of "oculesics" it's really the study of eyes in general or something idk eye contact is scary (((but not as scary as adult phone calls)))