#Of course Ellie and Dan are going to laugh at him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

Simply Irresistible

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 2,446

Summary: Joel takes you on the best first day you’ve ever been on

Author’s Note: More Biker!Joel because I love him so! This is connected to my first Biker!Joel story The Road to Love but they can be read separately. Thank you so much for the love this AU is getting, I’m really enjoying it! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: lots of soft and sweet fluff, flirting, tension, f-ing-er-ing, little th-ig-h ri-d-ing, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself

The edit below is NOT MINE: my amazing friend Ellie @mrsmischief209 made it for me at the drop of a hat and I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Thank you forever my sweet! 💕

Joel Miller Masterlist

“He texted you again, didn’t he?” Jade asks as she peeks over your shoulder.

“Of course it’s him,” Dan adds. “Look at that smile.”

You finish replying to Joel and then stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans.

“You two are insufferable!”

Your tone is playful and you’re still grinning.

“You LOVE us,” Dan chimes.

“You do,” Jade agrees. “Now tell us what he said.”

“I do love you both,” you assure them. “And he was just asking what I was wearing for our date…”

“REALLY?!” Dan screeches. “WHY?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” you reply. “I just told him I was planning to wear a dress.”

“You didn’t ask why!?!” Dan nearly shouts.

“Maybe he wanted to make sure you’re dressed properly for the restaurant…maybe it’s a fancy and romantic place!” Jade says with a wistful sigh.

You look between your two friends and roll your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ll find out!” you say as you wiggle past them to help a customer.

“I can hardly wait until Saturday,” Dan whispers to Jade as he follows after you. “I bet they don’t even make it to dinner.”

Jade and Dan share a mischievous giggle and you shoot them a glare, smirking when you see Dan waggling his eyebrows at you.

~Saturday night~

“Text me and Dan if you need anything,” Jade speaks into the phone.

Dan grabs it from her hand.

“YES! Text us everything,” Dan says enthusiastically. “All the juicy details…I want to know every last one!”

You hear some scuffling and hear Jade mutter a curse at Dan before she’s back and says, “sorry babes, Dan is very excited.”

“I am too,” you smile as you stand in front of your mirror and check yourself one last time.

Just then you hear the rumble of an engine and your stomach fills with butterflies.

“He’s here!” you whisper shout into the phone. “Gotta go!”

“HAVE FUN!” both Dan and Jade shout simultaneously.

With a laugh you hang up and head for your front door.

The doorbell rings and you let out the breath you’ve been holding in before opening the door.

Joel’s leaning against the frame, relaxed in his signature dark jeans that fit just right and a vest that shows off his sculpted arms and tattoos.

Your gaze lingers on his handsome face before you take in the rest of him, you fingers twinkling hello with a small wave.

“Hey sunshine,” he murmurs as his eyes sweep over your body appreciatively.

Even though he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s checking you out it doesn’t come off as creepy, it only makes you feel desired and beautiful.

“You look…” and he runs a hand through his hair, tousling it so his curls are more pronounced, “amazin’.”

“Thanks,” you answer sweetly as you take a step closer.

He lifts his hand and holds up a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“These are for you,” he says quietly.

“Oh Joel! They’re beautiful!” you exclaim, taking them and holding them up to your nose. “I love them! Thank you.”

He looks pleased and gives you a sideways smile. You place your palm on his chest and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on his skin before you pull away, your eyelashes still fluttering against your cheek.

When you meet his eyes they wander over your features before settling on your lips.

“You’re welcome sunshine.”

“I just want to put them in water before we go. Come in for a minute.”

You leave the door open and rush off to the kitchen, grabbing a small vase and filling it with water. Joel remains by the door and openly inspects what he can see of your house.

“I like it,” he says when you’re finished and walking back to him. “It’s warm and soft and inviting…fits you.”

“Thanks. It’s home.”

You meet him by the door but he doesn’t move out of the way.

You nibble your bottom lip and look at him through your lashes.

“Ready?” you ask.

He lifts his hand to your mouth and presses the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, gently pulling it free from your teeth. Then he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs your mouth to his.

Your hands instinctively curl into his vest and you press yourself against him. His fingers graze your jaw before ghosting down your neck and curling around the back of it to bring you impossibly closer, his lips finding yours again quickly.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, kissing you several more times before announcing, “now I’m ready. Just had to give you a proper hello darlin’.”

You nod, unable to speak and still clinging to him.

His hand slides lower and wraps around your waist, tucking you into his side as he leads you out the door.

“Where’s your bike?” you ask without thinking.

“Disappointed sunshine?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly and you give him a sheepish look.

“No! Not at all. I just figured…”

His fingers press under your chin and he lifts your eyes, ghosting his lips across yours as he whispers, “don’t worry, I promised I’d take you for a ride any time you want and I meant it. I just can’t have you riding around on my bike in that dress darlin’. It’s not the safest.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Is that why you asked me what I was going to wear?”

He nods with a wink and brings you around to the passenger side door of his pickup then opens it for you.

“I would have changed,” you tell him with a smile.

His intense gaze travels from your head to your toes and when he reaches your eyes again they blaze with heat.

“No,” is all he says before he takes your hand and helps you up.

Once you’re seated he leans forward and grabs the seatbelt, laying it across your body then buckling it. The action is thoughtful and sweet but every time his hands brush along your skin it fills you with anticipation, the need to have him touch you overwhelming.

As if he senses it too, his fingers close around your hand and he lifts it to his lips for a soft kiss, his eyes never leaving yours until he reluctantly releases you and shuts the door.

When he gets in the driver’s side you ask, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says as he shifts the truck into drive.

He sets one hand loosely on the steering wheel and lets his other inch across the middle console until it’s resting on your thigh, his fingers slightly hidden under the hem of your dress.

His calloused thumb draws small circles on your soft skin and you love how rough it feels in comparison. You place your hand over his and trace his long fingers, gently stroking them with your fingertips. He shifts in the seat and glances at you while he squeezes your leg, the air thick with tension.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long to get to your destination and when Joel turns down a small dirt road you turn to him with a look of confusion.

“There’s no restaurant here,” you say.

“No, there isn’t,” he answers. “Hope that’s ok.”

He parks and hops out of his truck then comes around to open your door and before you can ask any more questions he grabs you around the waist and helps you down, your body sliding along his until your feet hit the ground.

You stay pressed against him, your hands curled around his biceps. When he doesn’t release you, you dance your fingers higher, grazing his shoulder before they dip to the buttons of his vest and press to his warm skin.

“Are you hiding any tattoos under here?” you ask with your eyes still on his chest.

Your fingers toy with the first button and you pop it open, hearing his breath catch in his throat.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, tightening his grip on you.

“I want to see,” you whisper, lifting your eyes.

His eyes close briefly and you can see his teeth grind together before he shifts your bodies so he can press you into the side of his truck, the need to feel every inch of you overpowering every other thought.

You continue your exploration and push the fabric apart, slowly dragging your finger downward and parting it more, just enough to see the top of another piece of ink. You look up and into his eyes as your fingers undo one more button of his vest, exposing more of his tan skin until you can see the whole tattoo.

Your eyes drop and you trace your fingertips over the dark ink.

“Beautiful,” you breathe out.

He captures your hand in his, pressing it to his lips before he rests it on his shoulder and with his mouth just a whispered breath from yours his hands caress your body, his frustration evident when the material of your dress keeps him from your bare skin.

“You drive me crazy sunshine. From the moment I saw you…”

“Joel,” you plea.

His nose brushes yours before trailing down your neck, his lips following with soft kisses.

“I had a picnic planned…food, drinks…dessert. Even thought we’d watch the sunset,” he murmurs into your skin.

“Had?” you gasp, your fingers digging into his back as he nips at the skin above your pulse point.

“You expect me to sit through a picnic now?” he teases as his lips move over your collarbone.

“But it sounds so romantic,” you say, your voice breathy as you tilt your head back to give him better access to your neck.

“I thought so,” he smirks as he brings his lips back to yours. “I’ve got everything ready, just say the words.”

“Thought you couldn’t make it through a picnic…” you counter with some playful sass.

“I’d try just for you but I can’t promise anything.”

His fingers slip under the hem of your dress, languidly sliding along your skin until they reach your inner thigh. Every motion is deliberate and when he moves his hand to your hip and teases the waistband of your panties you groan out his name.

“Problem sweetheart?” he asks, his eyes full of mischief.

Your fingers work through his thick dark hair, and move down his back, exploring and touching all the hard planes of muscle.

You want more. Need it. And you can feel him throb against your stomach as his bearded cheek grazes your delicate skin and he captures your lips in a kiss that steals any remaining air from your lungs.

His hand slides down to your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze, pulling your hips harder against his. With a slight nudge he pushes his knee between your legs and presses his thigh upward, making you whimper into his mouth.

The hard muscle flexes and you can’t stop the way you grind yourself over him.

“Fuck darlin’,” he hisses when he pulls away, his breathing heavy.

Your lips part when he grabs your waist and rocks you over his thigh, your moans of pleasure the only sounds he wants to hear.

He removes his knee and replaces it with his hand, pushing your panties to the side and easily sliding his thick fingers through your arousal.

“Oh fuck sunshine,” he moans against your lips, “this all for me?”

Your hands claw at his back, trying to bring him closer and he answers your silent plea, slowly pushing a finger inside you.

He grunts as your tightness surrounds him and the urge to see your face takes over as he pulls back from your lips to watch you.

He holds your gaze as he takes his time, gentle, slow, deliberate pumps of his hand as he builds a torturous rhythm.

“More,” you demand, dragging your hands down his chest before your fingers grab hold of his biceps.

He flexes under your touch and you can see the chords of muscle strain with his every movement.

“Joel, more.”

He growls and with his free hand, takes a hold of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head and against the truck.

You clench around him and weakly push against his grip. With a satisfied grin he keeps his eyes on yours as he pushes a second finger inside you.

His movements remain slow and torturous and it drives you wild with impatience. You buck your hips onto his hand, trying to take him deeper but he keeps you pinned in place and draws out your pleasure.

“Joel,” you beg, your desperation swallowed by his lazy but sexy kiss that makes you roll your hips all over again.

He keeps you on the edge until you you’re trembling in his arms, strung so taut but not alone. His expression is filled with need, his muscles straining with the last remains of his barely contained control.

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of falling apart. “Please, Joel.”

Whatever impressive control he’s mastering snaps and he starts to move his fingers faster, pushing deeper. He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles until you shatter against him, your release spasming through you until you can hardly hold yourself upright.

“I got you darlin’,” he murmurs and you feel his lips press softly to your shoulder as he draws his fingers away.

Your eyes meet his and his expression is soft with satisfaction.

“I’d apologize for not being able to keep my hands to myself,” he starts, lifting his hand between your bodies, his fingers gleaming, and licking them clean one by one, “but I’m addicted.”

“Joel…” you whisper, still breathless.

He slants his mouth over yours in a grazing, taunting kiss and you bite his lower lip before he deepens it so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

When he tears his mouth away it’s only for lack of air and you can see him start to open it as if he’s going apologize again but you press a finger to his lips.

“This is by far the best first date I’ve ever had,” you whisper as you trace his jaw. “And we still have time to watch the sunset.”

“We can do whatever you want sunshine.”

Your lips curl into a coy smile and you press yourself closer, bending your head to his and kissing him.

Hard and hungry.

His large hand curls around the back of your neck and he keeps you close, taking over and kissing you back just the same.

@blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @sstan-hoe @littleseasiren @faceache111

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #biker!joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #biker au

707 notes · View notes

oseathepebble · 2 years

Note

I’m sorry to constantly send in asks about ocs interacting but may I request 💃 with Tsukiko with Ellis? One ramshackle student to another :D thank you so much!

SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER / DRABBLE BASED ON…

💃🏼 : our muses to go dancing together

(For the sake of this, imagine NRC is having a school dance ajkdlfhjasdfs)

Night Raven College was holding a school dance in the cafeteria. Most of the student body was attending, but Tsukiko was at their dorm, cleaning. They didn't feel like attending and it's not like they had a good outfit to attend in. The students were dressing up and the most formal outfit they had was their school uniform

Ellis walked into the lounge in a pretty, poofy, pink dress that Tsukiko had made her a few weeks ago. Her hair was styled and tucked behind her hair was a pink rose. "Hey Tsukiko, are you ready to go-" Shock came across her face when she saw Tsukiko cleaning. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry I can't go with you Eli. I got some cleaning to do," Tsukiko apologized. "Plus, I don't have anything formal to wear," They went back to sweeping the floor

"But you promised me you'd go with me! Even Grim is going!" Ellis looked a bit disappointed in finding out Tsukiko wouldn't be joining her tonight

"I'm sorry, but I just don't have anything to wear, I don't think my school uniform to the dance is appropriate," Tsukiko let out a small pity laugh for themself. "But, you have fun, and make sure Grim doesn't eat all the food," They leave the room to go clean some more

Ellis huffed and tried to think of a way to get Tsukiko an outfit good enough to go to the dance in. She suddenly has an idea. She races out the door with Grim

Thirty minutes later, Ellis comes back with a new suit for Tsukiko to wear. They find Tsukiko sitting against a wall, their head in their hands. "A-Are you okay?"

Tsukiko looks up, tears in the corner of their eyes. They quickly wipe their tears away. "O-Oh. Yeah, I just. I'm. . ." Their words fail them and they couldn't find an excuse. "I really wanted to go to the dance. . ."

"I got you something," Ellis spoke in a soft and comforting voice. She reveals the suit they bought Tsukiko from the Mystery Shop using some money she saved up. It consisted of a blazer, turtleneck, and dress pants. "You're gonna have to wear your school shoes, but I think this should be good enough for you to wear,"

Tsukiko stood up and took the outfit into their hands. "But. . . Why?" They asked, something this nice definitely didn't come cheap

"Well, I had some money saved up and I know you wanted to go to the dance, so. . . Let's go to the dance together," Ellis gave her friend a warm smile

Tsukiko hugged Ellis quickly before changing into the outfit. It was a perfect fit. And before they knew it, they were at the dance with all their friends

A slow song came on and Ellis and Tsukiko looked at each other

"Hey Tsukiko, may I have this dan-" Jack was cut off my Tsukiko themself

"Hey Ellis, wanna dance?" Tsukiko asked their friend, not even glancing in Jack's direction. They held their hand out in Ellis' direction

Ellis tried to hold in her laugh. "Why of course," She took Tsukiko's hand as they led her to the dance floor. On their way there, Ellis turned to Jack and stuck her tongue out at him in a teasing way

Tsukiko and Ellis spent the song dancing with each other. They tried to keep themself from giggling and laughing. They made a few missteps but what mattered is that they were having a fun time together

#tsukiko kawashima #ellis clawthorne #oc interaction #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst mc

5 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Family

Sequel to ‘Mask.’

It was amusing, watching Daniel eat like this.

Vlad had decided to institute a tradition of family mealtimes, and had decanted Daniel from the containment unit about thirty minutes previously. Daniel had been sulky, at first, saying that Vlad should have given him more warning and attempting to fend off the wheelchair Vlad had procured for him. But his strength had been insufficient to the task, and, once Vlad had wheeled him into the other half of the basement, where he had created a luxurious but secret home for his children, he had fallen into a contented and obedient stupor once again.

An adjustment to the flow of his ectoplasm IV perked him up just enough to allow him to attempt to eat breakfast. Attempt. Poorly. He was obviously as ravenous as he was exhausted, but he was equally uncoordinated. He only got a forkful of pancakes to his mouth every third attempt at best.

"Father," said Danielle, tugging at his sleeve. She was, more often than not, the spokesperson for her siblings. "Is Danny alright?"

Vlad nodded, absently. "What he is doing is very difficult, my dear, but he will come to no lasting harm." Perhaps he should allow Daniel to eat separately, after this.

"He won't melt?"

"No, no, he's quite stable. You needn't worry about that. He is simply tired, and his mind is otherwise occupied. Imagine if you were trying to, say, set the table while reading four books at once. Your coordination might suffer, too, hm?"

His children nodded. "That makes sense," said Dmitri, adjusting his eye patch. "I guess we didn't think of it that way."

Vlad gave his son an indulgent smile. "You are young, Dmitri. You don't have to think of everything."

Dmitri nodded, and then said, wistfully, "I don't suppose we're still following the schedule?"

"I'm afraid not," said Vlad. "You, of course, can continue with the activities I planned, but Daniel won't be able to." Four of the five children at the table sighed. Daniel continued to struggle with his breakfast. "But you may be able to meet David soon. His stabilization has been progressing nicely."

This pronouncement was greeted with smiles and cheers. Damien reached over and hugged Dmitri. Daniel jumped and dropped his fork.

He made a very small, upset fweh sound and stared angrily at his plate.

Vlad regarded him with a sigh. While family mealtimes were good for his children, for their social skills, their stability, and for their bond with Daniel, they would not suffice for getting Daniel the nutrients he needed. True, they could be supplemented intravenously, or with a feeding tube, but Vlad didn't want to resort to that just yet.

Dustin reached over to Daniel's plate and began to cut up Daniel's pancakes. He speared some on the end of the fork and offered them to Daniel, who took them with a kind of blurred dignity. Vlad had to cover his mouth. It wouldn't do to laugh at Daniel being hand-fed like a small child. Yet.

Danny was wheeled out of the underground dining room and his brain sluggishly began to work again. "Are they okay?" he asked.

"Hmm?" said Vlad.

"Being apart."

"For now. A few hours with you a day should keep them from deteriorating further. Once David has reached their level of stability, you will be able to spend much more time with them." Vlad ruffled Danny's hair and Danny hummed. Then he realized how wrong that was and scowled.

Vlad walked over to the tube Danny had been in for the last several hours and started adjusting things.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he was still too woozy to try to walk. "Vlad?"

"Yes? What?"

"Do we- Can we do something different? Not that."

"Oh?" Vlad turned to face him. "I would have thought that you would have wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. This is the fastest way."

Danny shrugged. He didn't really want to explain to Vlad how unnerving being in the tube had been.

Vlad drummed his fingers on the side of the tube and contemplated Danny. "There are a few other things we could try."

Danny nodded. "Good. Right. Before we start, though, um, I don't suppose you have a bathroom down here?"

"Do I have to be strapped down?" asked Danny.

"Daniel," said Vlad, "you agreed to cooperate."

"Yes, with stabilizing Ellie, Dustin, Dmitri, Damien, and David," said Danny. "Not with letting you tie me up so you can bully me into doing things." Never mind that he wouldn't be able to resist whatever Vlad wanted from him, anyway. He was too weak.

"I don't want you to damage yourself by falling off the table, hitting yourself during a seizure, or falling under the ectoplasm and doing your best impression of drowning," said Vlad. "You can't actually drown, of course, but the fact remains that these are all experimental procedures."

Danny shuddered at the word experiment. He'd been half-ghost for long enough for that word to sink into his subconscious and give him nightmares. "But are they necessary?"

"I suppose not," admitted Vlad. He approached Danny with two quick strides and knelt in front of him. He held up an object that looked like a thick bolt with a thick cable running from one end. "This needs to make contact with your core."

"You're joking."

"No. The idea is to strengthen and more directly transmit your ectosignature."

Danny bit his lip. He knew exactly how something touching your core felt, thanks to Dan. "Maybe you had better strap me down."

They fell into a sort of routine. For most of the day and night, Danny would soak in an ectoplasm bath, connected to David. At regular intervals Vlad would wake him up, convince him to exercise a small amount, and then bring him to the other side of the basement, where the other clones lived.

At one point, Vlad had handed Danny a phone and he'd had a very confused conversation with his sister. He'd tried to communicate what was happening to her, and that she should call Sam and Tucker, but he'd just finished a disorienting stabilization session, and he wasn't sure how clear he'd been.

Danny didn't know if Vlad had kept up his other promise, to keep Amity Park safe, but, honestly, most of the time he was too tired to even care. Which was sort of disturbing in the moments he did have energy to care.

Also, whenever he was awake he was hungry. Ravenous. It was weird. His food intake had increased after the accident, but he knew he had never eaten this much every day before. But he wasn't gaining weight. He was losing it.

Danny woke up to Vlad undoing his restraints. "Izzit time t'eat?" he asked.

"Soon," said Vlad. "David is ready."

"Oh," said Danny, with vague interest. He sat up and leaned on the side of the tub he was in. Ectoplasm lapped around his thighs.

Slowly, Vlad decanted David from the tube, first draining away the ectoplasm and then rinsing David off with a stream of water from the top of the tube. He opened the tube up, and began to detach him from the various wires and leads. As he did so, David began to wake, stirring and humming. Finally, after Vlad disconnected the last wire, David opened his eyes and smiled. Danny's lips mirrored the motion.

He was happy. David was family, clone or not.

The next meal was more confusing than usual. His eyes were having trouble focusing, and the conversation around him was nothing more than a smear of noise. Everyone was happy, though, so that was good.

To Danny's dull surprise, Vlad did not take him back out to the lab, but instead to a different room. This was different. And upsetting. He frowned. This room was bright colors and soft shapes. Vlad took him out of the wheelchair and set him on the floor.

Again, this was different. Why was it different? He couldn't think. He didn't like this.

Then all his siblings came close, and he found himself in the middle of a cuddle pile. Oh! This was nice. Danny closed his eyes and let himself relax the rest of the way.

"Now, children," said Vlad, after he was quite certain both that his children would be gentle with Daniel and that Daniel was firmly asleep, "I will be leaving Daniel with you during the day, but I need you to follow certain rules. First, Daniel must stay below ground. Second, at least three of you must stay with Daniel at all times." He rather suspected that none of them would let Daniel leave their sight, at least for the near future, but that was the number he had calculated would keep Daniel in a docile state. "Thirdly, if any of the alarms go off, you must fetch me at once. Finally, and this is very important, when he is awake, I want you to try to talk him into staying with us. You remember those videos I showed you, yes?"

David looked confused, but all the others nodded.

"They were so mean to him," said Dustin.

"They shot at him!" added Ellie.

"You're not like that at all, Father," said Damien. "I can't believe those people are his parents!"

Vlad smiled. "David, I will show you the videos at a later time. For now, get to know your siblings."

David nodded vigorously. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of talking, yet.

Vlad left for the lab, humming. Yes, his little family was shaping up nicely. If he could get Daniel to join it with some subliminal messaging and the well-meaning pressure of the clones, well, that would just be icing on the cake, wouldn't it?

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2020 #day 30

111 notes · View notes

mlovesstories · 4 years

Text

You Raised Her Too

Words: 1500

Warnings: Angry Sam, cussing

AN- Sam is a lawyer, this is an AU.

Summary- Sam doesn’t understand why YN isn’t performing well in school. Dean has to translate.

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

Sam looked up from the legal papers he had been glancing over as he walked through the house. He saw YN standing and touching the bindings of the books in their library. Her notes and textbooks lay untouched on the table.

“Ahem.”

Startled, she turned around to face her father.

“You told me you would start your homework a half hour ago,” Sam put his papers down and crossed his arms.

“Sorry,” YN put her hands to her sides, wiping the dust from the dusty books onto her jeans.

“I don’t know why but you have been so distracted lately,” he responded. “Did something happen?”

“No…” she shrugged.

“Please get started on your work,” he winked at her.

“Sorry, daddy.” YN smiled. As she sat down, he exited.

As the days and school years went on, Sam only noticed her distracted behavior more and more. He was tired of trying to make her focus.

“You are in fifth grade. Get your stuff done,” he growled. “Stop dilly-dallying and get going. Why is it so hard to-”

“WOAH!” Dan walked into the house. “What’s with the third degree?”

“Nothing,” YN bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry, Dad.” YN apologized to Sam.

“You know, you keep saying that. Why is it so hard to sit down and start your work? Do I need to start taking your series books away?” Sam widened his stance and stood over her as she sat at the table. YN shook her head, eyes wide. “Open your damn book and start!” He stormed out of the room.

“What-” Dean looked to YN.

“He’s mad because I don’t study. At least that’s what he thinks.” YN teared up. “I don’t like when he’s mad at me,” she used her fingers to wipe away the emotion running down her face.

“So why does he get mad at you then? You never disappoint your dad.” Dean walked across the room, put his keys and wallet next to her books, and he guided her into a hug.

“I -I.” She stuttered. “I don’t know.” Almost shaking, YN looked away from him.

“What are you not telling me?“ The uncle stroked her cheek, offering her a weak smile.

“I can’t control it. At least I don’t think so.” YN gazed up at Dean. She whispered, “it’s really hard to pay attention. It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“Have you told him that?” Dean sat her back down at the table, and he sat in the next seat over.

“No…”

“Why not? He would understand.”

“Because he doesn’t love me.” YN tried to open up her textbook, but Dean slammed it shut. YN shrieked at the sudden movement and noise.

“What the HELL are you talking about, kid?” He forced her to look at him. “You KNOW that is not true.”

“It is. He just yells at me. He doesn’t care.”

“Have you started on your work-” Sam walked back into the room. YN froze.

“I was looking over it. She’s doing fine.” Dean smiled and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Keep going, smart stuff.” He gave her a sideways smile to convey his protection of their secret conversation. “You got this.”

“Thanks, Dee.”

Over the next few days, Dean kept an eye on YN. He saw the distress in her body language throughout the evenings. She paced and sat down for short periods of time before having to get up again.

“Here,” he walked into the room. Dean handed her some silly putty. “See if this helps you calm down,” he grinned and watched her open the container. YN pulled it out and stretched it.

“Thanks, Uncle Dee,” She stood up from her chair and hugged him. “But why are you being so nice? Aren’t you mad that I can’t concentrate?”

“No, I’m sad that you feel you can’t even talk to your dad.”

“Talk to your dad about what?” Sam walked in.

“Nothing. Just that I got an A today on my math test,” YN faked a smile.

“Imagine that, you got a good grade. You know why?” He asked gruffly. She held her breath. “Because you like math. What about language arts or science, huh? Get good grades in those too.” Sam walked out as quickly as he walked in.

“See?” YN laid her head on the table.

“You and I are going to have a fun day tomorrow, you hear me?”

“I can’t, Uncle Dee. I have tutoring.” she turned her head to face him.

“What if I told you I told your dad that I was taking you and that nerdy kid to the library tomorrow? I told him that you told me you study better there than at the house?” He grinned and stroked her hair. Your tutor-person is aware of my evil plan. Paid him and extra fifty. He won’t tell. “

“Really?” YN whispered.

“Yep,” he watched her sit up.

“Thank you. So, what are we going to do?”

The next day, the two went bowling and each ate a greasy hamburger. When they came home, Sam was sitting on the couch,

“So- did you have fun on your little excursion?” He continued to face the TV, not turning to them.

“Huh?” YN looked to Dean with wide eyes.

“Your backpack is still by the door,” Sam motioned with his hand.

“Shit.” Dean said between his teeth. “Sorry, YN,” he whispered.

“It’s fine.” YN leaned into him. She walked in front of her father.

“You are terrible in school, and when I pay for a tutor, you blow him off and galavant all over town with your uncle? And Dean? You know she needs this tutoring.” Sam turned to see his brother with a drawn face.

“You know, you are such an ass.” Dean walked over to his brother. Sam stood to challenge his brother.

��I’m trying to provide for her!”

Dean stood in front of YN to face Sam.

“You’re not seeing what’s going on right in front of you! I get that you’re busy with your cases. Being a lawyer keeps you busy, but she is not okay! When will you recognize that?” He moved so that Sam could see his daughter. “See? YN tries. Do you know how many times she’s cried in my arms because she is terrified of disappointing her Magna Cum Laude dad?”

Sam looked from Dean to YN. Tears cascaded down her face.

“Sweetie?” Sam’s stunned face told her that he understood.

“Since you were too busy to notice, I took her to the doctor. ‘Says she has ADHD.” Dean motioned to YN. She nodded in response. “Hasn’t started the meds yet though.”

“You took her to the doctor without me? That isn’t your job!”

Dean stepped forward so that he was inches from Sam’s face.

“You sure as hell weren’t doing it! I told you over and over something was up with her, and you didn’t do anything. She told you the same thing, and you didn’t listen to her either. What was I supposed to do? She’s my-” Dean stopped and sniffled. “She’s mine too, whether you realize it or not. I raised her too.” Dean relaxed his shoulders and stepped back. “YN is suffering and it isn’t her fault,” the uncle whispered. Sam peered past Dean to see YN like a statue, not sure what to do. Face blushing from the tension in the room, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Sam. He walked to her and got down on a knee to be eye-to-eye with her.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Sam told her. “I’m so sorry for everything. Everything I ever said or did to discount you.” YN continued looking away as new tears sprang forward, rolling toward her chin.

“I try harder than anyone else.” YN mouthed to her dad.

“I can only imagine,” Sam took her hand. “I am- I am so sorry, kiddo. If I’d known… I would have gotten you the right kind of help, not made you feel like a failure with the tutoring and demeaning comments. I thought you were- I don’t know. Just not wanting to pay attention.”

Dean quietly left the room.

“I like school. I just can’t sit still. Here, Dean gave me this. It helps.” She ran to the library and took the silly putty off of the desk. “See?” YN stretched it so that he could see how it worked.

“Of course Dean had that,” Sam laughed. “I’ll do better. I promise. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, daddy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “I love you.”

Sam walked into Dean’s room without knocking later that day.

“How could I have missed it?”

Dean turned from folding his laundry on the bed.

“Because you’re busy and you didn’t slow down to see what was going on. At least you realize it now. I watched her. She couldn’t sit down. YN was fidgety and couldn’t stay still. She was so frustrated. I could tell she couldn’t control it. She’ll be okay now. It will take all of us to keep her going though. Meds don’t fix everything. You know that.” Dean threw a tshirt back on the bed without folding it.

“I should have seen it. You raised her too.”

____________

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @ellie-andthemachine @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@waywardnewcomer @percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero

@rosiewinchester @seality @blogsnowflakeme @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname *

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @find-sammys-shoe

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@strangedeerconnoisseur @sbcamp08 @mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 * @supernatural3002 *

@tmiships4life * @breereadsthings * @mersuperwholocked-lowlife *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove

@myopiamystical

@fallen-wolf22

#dean x daughter!reader #Sam x niece!reader #supernatural #SupernaturalAU #mlovesstoriesiraisedhertoo #mlovesstories #mlovesstoriesau

180 notes · View notes

hikarimiyanaga · 4 years

Text

The Whole of Them

It's been a couple of years. Ellie Chu is killing it in college and Aster's a flourishing painter. The two meet again on the wall they painted together.

—

"Ellie!" Ellie turns and sees Paul running towards her. They hug and Paul picks her up. Ellie laughs as she shouts to put her down.

"How's the sausages going?"

"Good. Also, I got into Iowa now." Ellie laughs as the two best friends catch up on everything that's happened for the past couple years.

—

"Good work, Ms. Flores." Aster smiles as she loads the last of her bags on her car. "Your last piece was beautiful again." Aster nods.

"Thank you, professor." The old woman chuckles.

"Love can be such an interesting subject." Aster laughs. Of course, her professor would get it.

"Yes. It is."

"I'm assuming that you're going to meet her?" Aster smiles and nods, she can't help the grin forming on her face. "Tell her good luck from me, will you?"

"Why?"

"Because painters can be such difficult lovers." Aster laughs and the old woman walks away.

"That's actually true." She gets in her car and drives away.

—

'Your move.' Ellie finishes up her stroke and smiles.

"You done yet?" Paul offers up a taco sausage and Ellie chuckles as she accepts it.

"Did you change the recipe?"

"Yeah. A little bit." He watches as she takes a bite. "How is it?"

"Good. Really good." She takes another bite and smiles. "Better."

"Yeah?" She nods and he sighs in relief. "Thank god." She laughs and punches him lightly then they eat in silence.

—

'You really are something else, Ellie Chu.' She picks up the spray paint. She adds a stroke then begins writing her note.

'Are we still doing this?' She smiles as she walks away.

—

Ellie sighs. Was she being too repetitive? Damn it.

"What's wrong? Not gonna reply?"

"I-" She sighs then runs a hand through her hair. "Does she think this is boring?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at what she wrote!" She throws her hands up in the air. "It's like she's saying that she's tired of this!"

"Maybe?" Ellie glares at Paul. "You two are weird."

"What? Why?"

"You can just talk to each other, you know. I mean you guys are ghost messaging but…" He gives her a burger and she accepts it. "It's just not the same as talking face to face." Ellie hums as she takes a bite. She notes the juicy patty but holds it back.

"I know that. But. I'm not good at talking."

"Me either."

"I know. Ugh." She sits down on the hood of his truck.

"What if she hates me now?"

"What? Why?" Ellie shrugs.

"Because I'm boring now? Because I'm repetitive?"

"She won't think that. I mean, you're in college and you're smart." Ellie smiles at him then takes a bite. She finishes it before speaking.

"You're smart too."

"No, I'm not. I'm stupid."

"No, you're not. You're smart. Maybe not in the same way as I am but you are." They smile at each other. "Nice patty by the way."

"Thanks." She walks over and hums. She picks up the spray paint and adds a stroke and a note.

'Sorry if this was too boring… and I repeated it.'

She gets inside the truck and they drive away.

—

Aster smiles and puts her hand on Ellie's note.

'Nice. Smart.' She smiles at the photo that Paul sent her a year ago. 'And pretty.' She chuckles as she picks up the spray paint. She adds a stroke and a note.

'Sorry if that was what came across. It's not boring. Just that… I want to talk with you more.' Aster walks away then stops as she sees a container besides the cans. She picks it up and there's a note.

'Try my burger! It's a new recipe!' Aster laughs as she gets in her car, said container on her passenger seat.

—

"Talk, huh?"

"Told you." Ellie hums as she accepts a burrito from Paul.

"How's your girlfriend, by the way?"

"Three days that you're here and it's the first time you ask. I'm hurt."

"Shut up. I just forgot." Paul punches her lightly then smiles.

"She's good. We're good."

"She makes you happy?"

"Incredibly so." She smiles.

"How come I haven't seen her?"

"I told you she's visiting her parents for five days."

"Okay. When is she coming back?"

"Tomorrow."

"Want to go on a double date?" Paul beams and he nods excitedly at her. Ellie laughs then gets her phone out. Her fingers hover the screen but she pockets it.

"Not gonna ask her?"

"I will." She hops off. "I'll wait." Paul nods approvingly then gets in his car.

"See you later then."

"Yeah! Next lunch is on me!"

"Got it!" He drives away then Ellie sits down in front of the graffiti. She smiles before bringing out her book and reading. It's been an hour before Ellie hears the soft rhythm of a slow car and she smiles.

Aster hums as she gets out of her car but stops in her tracks when she sees Ellie. Ellie is pretending not to know that Aster is here. Aster hesitates but takes a deep breath then walks towards her. Ellie smiles.

"Hey." Ellie looks up and gives her a smile.

"Hey." Aster sits beside her then hums.

"What are you reading?"

"Dan Brown's Angels and Demons." Ellie closes the book and turns to Aster. "A professor actually recommended it. She says to make sure I find something to believe. Just like you said." Aster chuckles then turns to her.

"Hi."

"Didn't you just say hey?"

"You know it sounded familiar." Ellie laughs then takes Aster's hand. "Want to get lunch? Or go anywhere? You know-" Ellie kisses her suddenly and Aster smiles into the kiss. They break apart and their foreheads touch as they bask in the moment. They both chuckle.

"So, lunch?" They stand then gets into Aster's car.

"So… um."

"Yeah?"

"Apparently, Paul has a girlfriend and she… she's coming back into town tomorrow." Aster hums. "So… I was wondering if you wanted to meet her? With me? With also Paul." Aster chuckles.

"What are you really trying to say?"

"Go on a date with me. A double date, to be exact." Aster smiles. "But you-" Aster takes Ellie's hand to stop her rambling.

"I would love to." Aster smiles as Ellie squeezes her hand. They smile as Aster drives them to a diner.

—

Ellie smiles at Tv screen. She used to scoff and frown at Rom-Coms… but now, she just felt giddy whenever she watches them. Her phone chimes and both Paul and her dad looks at her. She just smiles at them then checks her phone.

DiegaRivero : Heathen. You up?

SmithCorona : Are you still calling me that?

DiegaRivero : It kinda stuck.

SmithCorona : Should I choose a nickname for you too?

DiegaRivero : Alright. Do your worst.

SmithCorona : How about beautiful?

Ellie blushes as she sends but then decides to push through the initial embarrasment.

SmithCorona : Angel? Hmmm.

SmithCorona : No. Goddess. It's perfect for you.

Both Ellie and Aster are now blushing.

"You okay?" Ellie turns to find both her dad and Paul staring at her.

"Y-yeah." Paul smiles teasingly as he goes back to watching.

"It's Aster, isn't it?" Ellie blushes even more but nods. The two men chuckle but leave her alone.

—

Both Ellie and Paul are waiting for the train to arrive. They're both waiting in comfortable silence. The train finally arrives and Paul stands then turns to Ellie who's still half-asleep.

"Ellie, wake up!" Ellie yawns then stretches. She gives Paul a smile then they both wait for the train to stop.

The train finally stops and a beautiful girl steps out. Paul quickly runs to her and gives her a hug while Ellie watches them with a smile. They kiss as the train leaves. When they break apart, Paul gets the girl's suitcase and duffel bag.

"Morning." The girl giggles.

"Morning."

"You must be Jen." Ellie holds out a hand.

"Yes." Jen takes the hand and shakes it. "Unless. Paul's cheating on me and have two different Jens." Ellie laughs.

"I like you already."

"That was fast."

"Sure."

"Come on." The three chat as they go into Paul's truck. The couple sits upfront while Ellie sits in the back with the luggage.

"How was the visit?"

"Fine. Everyone is still the same." Jen holds Paul's hand as he drives and Ellie can't help but smile at them. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence. Ellie's phone chimes and she quickly sees who it was. She smiles as she sees Aster's number.

Aster : Are you awake?

Ellie : I am.

Aster : Huh. Did I wake you up?

Ellie : As nice as that would've been. Paul woke me up.

Aster : Did you meet his girlfriend already?

Ellie : Yeah. She's pretty and funny.

Aster : Should I be jealous?

Ellie : She wishes. She's got nothing on you, Goddess.

Aster : Only you would pick such a long nickname.

Ellie : It's fitting.

Aster : Whatever you say.

Ellie chuckles.

Ellie : It's true. You are like a goddess to me.

Aster smiles.

Aster : So you'd worship me?

Ellie : Anytime. Anywhere.

Aster blushes at Ellie's answer. God. The girl was smooth as hell.

The truck comes to a stop and Ellie sees that they stopped in front of a blue house.

"Wow!" She exclaims as she looks over it.

"I know, right?"

"You guys are really best friends." Ellie and Paul look at each other then fists bump. Jen chuckles as they all go inside.

—

Both Jen and Ellie are watching as Paul prepares breakfast for the three of them.

"So..." Ellie smiles. "How long have you two-?"

"About a year now." Ellie hums.

"Upcoming anniversary?"

"Yeah. This month too."

"Cool." Ellie leans away from Paul then gestures for Jen to do as she did. They huddled up.

"Any big plans? Anything I can help with?" Jen chuckles.

"How about Paul?"

"If he had plans, he never told me."

"Huh." Jen stands then gets something from her bag.

"I want to give him, sort of a poetry compilation."

"Yes! I can definitely help you."

"And I want an original there too."

"Is it finished?"

"About halfway through."

"Okay. You finish up. I'll compile."

"You sure? Aren't you busy?"

"And let my best friend and his girlfriend's anniversary go to waste? Hell no." Jen giggles.

"Thank you for helping."

"No problem." Ellie winks then they talk about anything and everything.

—

"I'll pick you up around 12."

"Got it." Ellie wears her helmet then gives Paul a fist bump before pedalling away. When she gets to the station, she sees Aster's car and said girl waiting for her. Aster smiles when she walks towards Ellie.

"Your bike hasn't changed?"

"Yeah. Had to leave it behind here."

"If you had the chance, though?" Ellie chuckles as she parks her bike.

"Not a chance."

"Why?" She shrugs.

"It's the only thing I allowed myself to buy before entering high school."

"How about driving?"

"Never learned. Didn't have a car too."

"Wanna learn?" Aster presents her car.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Besides I trust you."

"Even when I have basically no knowledge?"

"Yep." Ellie laughs then takes Aster's hand.

"Maybe tomorrow. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Yep. Pancakes. Yours?"

"Bacon and eggs." Aster hums as they walk towards Ellie's house. "Come in."

"Your dad?"

"Doesn't mind and he also knows." Aster chuckles.

"Ba." Ellie greets and Edwin looks up from his papers to see both girls.

"You're back. Did you meet Jen?"

"You know her?"

"Paul told me… and I also met her."

"Oh. Wow. Can't believe you met her before I did."

"Don't be rude. I can socialize."

"Just kidding." Ellie gives him a glass of water. "We'll just be in my room."

"Got it." The two turn to leave. "Ellie."

"Yeah?"

"No inappropriate things." The two girls blush to their roots.

"Ba! God!" Ellie quickly pushes Aster to her room and follows suit.

They both giggle and settle down on Ellie's bed.

"How did your dad know?"

"I told him when he visited me a year ago."

"At Grinnell?"

"Yep. It was a surprise visit too."

"You showed him around?"

"Yeah."

"I want to visit Grinnell too."

"Want me to show you around?"

"If you have the time."

"For you? Always."

"The thins is."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be worshipped." Ellie smiles. "I want to be loved."

"Of course." Ellie kisses Aster's forehead then they just hold hands basking in the moment and their closeness.

—

Paul honks and both Aster and Ellie who fell asleep got woken up. Ellie quickly looks outside and sees both Jen and Paul wave at her.

"Paul! You could've texted me."

"I did. Like five times." Aster shows Ellie's phone then Ellie sighs.

"Sorry! We fell asleep."

"We?" Ellie blushes then doesn't answer, instead she just goes downstairs with Aster.

"Ba?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll be going out now."

"Of course. Be careful."

"Yeah!"

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Chu."

"Of course. Ms. Flores." Aster chuckles before following Ellie outside.

"Oh! Aster's here already."

"Yep!" Ellie assists Aster on the back of the truck and Paul drives away.

"Where to?"

"I thought you picked already?"

"Nah. You pick. You'll pay."

"Oh. Right." Ellie considers her options then settles on the one where they've already gone and most people that they know wouldn't be. "How about Sparky's Diner?"

"Got it." Aster glares at Ellie who just shrugs.

As the truck stops. Aster stops Ellie from jumping off.

"Why this place? This is where me and Paul had our-"

"First date?" Ellie smirks. "I know." She jumps off then helps Aster. "But it is fitting."

"How?" Ellie winks.

"We can rewrite your memories." Ellie smirks as she holds out her hand. "It's our first official date."

"With us!" They both flinch as Jen shouts together with Paul. Aster laughs then takes Ellie's hand.

"Okay." All four walk inside, hoping to make memories now that they’re all together.

#The Half of it #Fanfic #Ellie Chu x Aster Flores #Paul Munksy x OC #Brotp #Otp

46 notes · View notes

lassieposting · 4 years

Note

Tell us about Lucifer’s depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm, and past abuse. I mean I can see the self harm, both the obvious In cutting off his wings and the like as well as the unhealthy self medicating, and the abuse - which honestly comes across as a murky gray area, like some verges on abuse but isn’t quite- but the other things... I need them pointed out to me.

GLADLY, ANON

okay so, to cover my ass: this is just my personal take as someone with trauma & suicidal ideation who self-harms. other people with different trauma and different relationships with self-harm/suicidal ideation might see this whole thing completely differently. This post could be triggering, please pay attention to the triggers in the tags. I am not a professional psychiatrist, and if you are struggling please seek professional help.

i’m gonna break this down into sections bc, surprise surprise, it got rly long

THE ABUSE:

Now, you’re absolutely right that this is kind of a murky grey area, because at this point we really only have one side of the story: Lucifer’s. And obviously, he’s biased.

the family dynamics:

But let’s take a look at the family dynamics we see in-show. We’ve only seen a fraction of Lucifer’s family, but it’s still fairly obvious that the ways they interact with one another are unhealthy and tend towards abusive, especially when aimed at Lucifer.

We have Amenadiel, who:

Is obedient to his Dad on an almost brainwashed level until he falls.

Blames everything - including his own actions/failures (i.e. saying Malcolm killing humans is Lucifer’s fault, even though Amenadiel himself raised Malcolm from Hell) on Lucifer.

Does not know how to respond to affection or praise, even though he clearly appreciates and enjoys them (i.e. when Trixie hugs him and says she thinks he’s good). This is the son who’s in God’s good books. And he still clearly doesn’t receive affection or praise often.

Openly competes with Lucifer for Dad’s attention/love, to the point of rubbing it in his face when he discovers he’s the favourite

Is complicit in Lucifer’s abuse - taking him back to Hell (thereby isolating him), threatening him when he doesn’t want to go, and cutting off any attempt Lucifer makes at reaching out to connect with humanity - for billions of years to try and win his Dad’s approval.

Straight up tries to have Lucifer killed.

Says he’d love to go to war (with Lucifer, and presumably with Hell as a whole).

We have Uriel, who:

Takes it upon himself to enforce what he believes is his Dad’s will; he had no instructions from God when he came to Earth.

Delights in getting the opportunity to beat up Amenadiel, and gloats about it.

Threatens - and harms - the first good thing Lucifer has had in his life in eons as a way of bullying him into doing what Uriel wants.

When Lucifer complies, Uriel decides to kill both Goddess and Chloe, purely out of spite because Lucifer was “being difficult”.

(There is an interesting meta here on Uriel’s potential motivations that I really like, but this is looking purely at his actions.)

And we have Goddess, their mother, easily the most manipulative and emotionally abusive of the lot. She:

Admits to destroying things God cared about - attacking humanity with plagues and floods etc - out of malice and to get his attention.

Happily releases Azrael’s blade into human hands, hoping for widespread human deaths, to get her ex to get back in touch.

Plays Lucifer and Amenadiel off against one another like a pro for her approval.

Only ever touches her children when she’s trying to manipulate them - there’s a good meta on that here. The one exception to this that I personally believe to be a genuine attempt to comfort (both him and herself) is when she hugs Lucifer after he’s just killed Uriel.

Doesn’t actually care about what Lucifer wants - he’s told her outright that Earth is the only place where he feels wanted and respected, and she knows he has a life he enjoys and a woman he’s falling in love with, but she expects him to abandon Earth and go back to the Silver City with her regardless - to the point that she actively tries to dismantle his human life and kill his loved ones to leave him with no ties to Earth.

The picture this paints to me is of two incredibly narcissistic parents who see their children as extensions of themselves rather than as people in their own right. If you compare Lucifer - who’s an asshole, but fundamentally a good man - to his siblings here, you can see that the two who stayed in Heaven have caught fleas from their parents - and part of Amenadiel’s redemption arc is him realising how toxic and damaging his family is, giving himself a damn good flea bath, and doing his best to be a better big brother to Lucifer and a better son to his mom (and, later, a better father to Charlie than his Dad was to him).

angel life cycle

So apparently in canon, angels were created as adults. My personal headcanon is fuck that, baby angels, but we’ll go with the canon explanation for this, because honestly it still lines up with my theory.

Even if you’re “born” with a mature adult body and adult-level speech ability etc, you still won’t have an adult’s wealth of life experience, or maturity, or social skills. You’re still going to have to grow and learn and experience situations to learn how to cope with them.

Now, Tom Ellis has said in the past that he plays Lucifer as essentially having the emotional maturity level of a teenager, which I think is honestly perfect. For an immortal being - or at least a being with a lifespan of many, many billions of years - it’s actually fairly believable that the angels are (depending on the age gap between them) either still in the “adolescent” life stage or emerging into the “young adult” one.

Lucifer says that he’s spent “most of his life” in Hell. If he’s only a young adult now, at ~11 billion years old, that means he’d have been a juvenile (in terms of life experience/emotional development, even if he was “born” with a fully mature adult body) when he was sent to Hell, and the reason he was sent to Hell is because he wanted free will and started “acting out”.

Even if your 12-year-old is the most unpleasant, rebellious little shithead on the planet, you don’t kick him out of the house and spent the next decade sabotaging every attempt he makes to connect with people or improve his life. Because, you know. That’s your kid. You signed up to have him, that’s normal shitty teenager behaviour, and the chances are he’ll improve with age. God and Goddess went scorched earth on Lucifer because he was behaving in a completely normal way for a kid beginning to mature into a grownup.

lasting trauma

Lucifer’s parents’ treatment has left some crazy deep scars.

He uses a neglectful broken home as an analogy for his celestial family. And he does so incredibly smoothly; this is clearly an analogy he’s thought about before. Chances are he’s seen this dynamic on TV and identified very strongly with it.

He talks about his mother abandoning him as his “lowest point”. Not his Fall. Not any of the horrific things he’s seen in Hell. The point where he realised his mom doesn’t love him enough to protect him.

He doesn’t understand what he did wrong. God punished Lucifer harshly for wanting to control his own life, because narcs often see their children’s developing independence as a threat to their own control over their kids’ lives. Obviously He wouldn’t see it like that, but he’s clearly never explained to Lucifer why what he did was “wrong”. This family has a chronic communication problem.

He’s paranoid as fuck. He constantly suspects God of having a hand in the events happening around him, and any time it seems He is involved, Lucifer immediately sees whatever’s happening as an attempted manipulation. It never occurs to him that creating Chloe - someone immune to his powers who can really love him without any kind of supernatural influence - could be an olive branch or an attempt to give him what he actually needs. He doesn’t believe his Dad would ever do something positive to/for him.

He’s so badly traumatized by his childhood that he reacts like this to being called by the name his Dad gave him. And he’s clearly doing well in therapy - he might not know the word for it, but he knows he’s being (unintentionally) gaslit here. He doesn’t handle it well, but he doesn’t put up with it either, refuses to accept being told to see his Dad’s abuse as a sign of love.

He believes he’s unloveable. When Linda gently suggests that maybe Chloe kissed him purely because she likes him, he tells her that’s impossible and reminds her his powers don’t work on Chloe. He doesn’t think there’s any way someone could love him for who he is, unless he’s either giving them something or using his mojo on them. And it’s his family that’s conditioned him to think that way - look at Amenadiel alone, how many times he tells Lucifer he’s evil throughout the show, as casually as if he were telling him that his hair is brown. This is just a fact of the universe in that family: water is wet, leaves are green, Lucifer is irredeemable garbage.

He doesn’t for a second hesitate to believe that his Dad wanted to kill him. Or that he would kill him given the opportunity. He even thinks Chloe is his dad’s attempt to get him killed for a bit.

THE SELF HARM

the wings:

The blatantly obvious one - and the most deliberate - is when he cuts off his wings. Now when Lucifer talks about this, he frames it as him taking back agency over his own life, freeing himself from his Father’s control, and making a statement about his intention to stay on Earth.

But when you look at him, he doesn’t look victorious, or like he’s looking forward to starting a new life. Physical pain aside - and an amateur amputation would be agonizing - he looks almost like he’s grieving, gritting his teeth through something he feels he has no choice but to do.

Someone did a fantastic meta that I thought I’d reblogged at some point that says something like “this isn’t the devil in his moment of triumph against god; this is an abused boy mutilating himself to spite his father”. I wanted to link it, but I haven’t been able to find it again (if anyone finds it, please let me know so I can add a link).

the self-medicating:

I don’t think he realises this is a form of self-harm, and I don’t think he does it to hurt himself deliberately. But he comes to Earth to overindulge in all the things he can’t have in Hell, all the things he’s been cut off from.

Touch and affection, which he gets through sex. Oblivion, which he gets by drinking. Euphoria, which he gets from drugs. Socialisation, which he gets from being surrounded by people at all times and partying it up 24/7.

It doesn’t matter to him that the touch is from a stranger, it doesn’t matter that the affection only lasts one night, it’s something and that’s more than he’s getting in Hell. He buries himself in those things to forget that he has to go back. He can bury himself in the next line or the next shot or the next attractive body and, just for a little bit, he can forget who he is.

Sending Lucifer to Hell in and of itself is cruel. Angels are clearly social creatures, and he’s been in solitary isolation for billions of years - it’s a miracle he hasn’t gone insane. Yes, he has the demons, but they don’t interact with him by choice and he’s not safe with them. Hell denies Lucifer everything a young person needs to grow into a stable, healthy adult.

the self-sabotage:

We also see that he’s got a tendency to sabotage himself when he’s on a downward spiral. This usually comes out one of two ways - either:

He tries to chase away the people who care about him. This comes from being so terrified of being abandoned and rejected again that he’d rather run them off himself than wait for them to inevitably (in his mind) decide that he’s Not Worth It and leave him. For example:

He tries to push Linda away when he’s grieving after killing Uriel.

He punches Dan in the face and gets himself thrown off the case by Chloe - she’s already warned him she would bench him if he didn’t pull himself together.

He throws Chloe’s initial rejection in her face when he’s on his self-hatred bender in S4.

He’s absolutely vicious to Amenadiel in this scene, when Amenadiel is trying to communicate that he loves Luci and wants to support him.

Or he talks shit about himself. You can always tell when he’s having a bad time; he’ll start coming out with shit like, “I’m the devil, remember, I’m evil.” His real view of himself will slip out from under the mask of confidence and vanity. Chloe cuts right to the heart of this in S4; he’s been told so many times that he’s responsible for all evil that he now believes it. He blames himself, even as he vehemently denies having ever made anyone do anything.

THE SUICIDAL IDEATION:

Jesus fuck, it’s a good thing Lucifer is in therapy.

The first time we see him actively attempt suicide is in 1x13 when he’s being framed for shooting the street preacher. It’s a case of “the straw that broke the camel’s back” here - he’s been having a really rough time lately:

Groups of zealots are cornering him in the street accusing him of murders he didn’t commit

Being accused of things he didn’t do is already a trigger for him

His own brother tried to have him assassinated.

His bodyguard and oldest friend betrayed him.

He’s just found out the detective makes him vulnerable.

He knows Dan - and therefore probably other work colleagues as well - think he’s got something to do with the satanic murders.

And now Chloe is turning her gun - and apparently her back - on him. She’s no different from anyone else. He was stupid to ever trust her, etc, etc, and now he’s spiralling.

She was the last rock keeping his head above the ocean at this point, and when she goes to arrest him, he goes under. We see that mania come out very quickly; he starts laughing hysterically and tries to goad an inexperienced uni into shooting him. He pretends to have a gun, knowing the cop will fear for his life and instinctively shoot. Since Chloe’s right there at the time, and he now knows he can be hurt around her, that’s attempted suicide. He wants to die. He even admits to Amenadiel he was trying to achieve “a good death…or at least a nice and messy one.”

No one ever addresses this bloody hell why

And then there’s the case with the shooter in the hospital. Lucifer’s grieving Uriel at this point, and he’s up to his eyeballs in self-loathing. He killed his brother. He really is the monster everyone believes he is. He’s spent the entire episode up to this point trying to make people punish him. He’s riled up Chloe at a crime scene and she’s told him off. He’s punched Dan, and Dan didn’t retaliate. He turned down Linda’s offer of continued therapy in a way that’s almost a challenge; he wants her to snap back at him. And when none of these little punishments are enough for him, he escalates and escalates and eventually he steps in front of the sniper’s intended victim and, again, goads him to shoot. He goes a bit further this time, though; he outright begs the sniper to shoot him, and reams the guy out when he says he didn’t think Lucifer deserved it.

Again, he knows Chloe is there. This is a suicide attempt. He even admits to Chloe that he didn’t care about the intended victim, he was just trying to get himself killed. She doesn’t believe him. And it’s never addressed again, and I’m salty.

Anyway I hope this clarifies some stuff for you anon? and I’m sorry it took so long to finish I rewrote this so many times for Maximum Sensitivity and kept including stuff and taking stuff out and it got SO LONG and i had to condense it and i have A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OKAY I HAD A LOT TO SAY

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer on fox #netflix lucifer #lucifer morningstar #tw suicidal ideation #tw self harm #tw child abuse #tw narc parents #tw attempted suicide #a+ celestial parenting #celestial family #lucifer meta #i dont think ive covered everything but fuck it im posting anyway bc if i rewrite this again im gonna scream

69 notes · View notes

gaydiekane · 4 years

Text

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING A CUT SO IF IT DOESNT WORK IM SO SORRY IM CLOGGING UR FEED ANYWAYS-

before we start~~

greyson- ahhh yeah they/them pronouns but originally greyson used he/him so if you see any stray he/hims that i forgot to change please lmk (comment with the sentence or smth it'd be greatly appreciated)

link to chapter 1

i do not own any of the characters or settings from the riordanverse, all rights go to richard russell riordan. i also don't own perry the platypus, that goes to dan povenmire

finally, this is only my current draft, so when this whole thing is done and completed this chapter could be entirely different. i'm also a cHiLd so my writing isn't that good please bear w me 💀 i also suck at titles if u have any other ideas lmk 💀💀

anywaysssss..

The Currently Unnamed Fic

Chapter 2 - i think this is now named An Intro to New Life but im not 100% sure?

The boy led me down the hill and to the Kansas house. There was a man and a few other people playing a card game. I mean, I thought they were people, but they looked like goat boys. Something was nagging at me in the back of my mind, like something about this was familiar, but I couldn't figure it out.

"Mr. D," the kid said, "we have a new camper. And- hold up," he turned to me, "what are your pronouns?"

"She/her."

He turned back to Mr. D. "She's fifteen!"

Mr. D placed his cards face down on the table. "Fifteen? Whoever your parent is is awfully stupid."

Some useful information, I suppose. And, parent? My mom said she was bad at math in school, and my dad. . .

"My mom mentioned something about my dad when she dropped me off here," I said.

"Well, you're not one of mine," Mr. D said, and averted his attention back to the game. "Owen-"

"Oliver."

"-would you mind showing her around?"

"Oh, I would love to, but," the kid, Oliver, flashed the book he was reading, "I've got some reading to do. And I'm also redirecting mortals, so. . . . Catch ya later," he said walking away.

"He could've just said he didn't want to," Mr. D said under his breath (but still loud enough for everyone to hear). "Uh, Garrett Smith! Can you show around the new kid?" he asked to the nearest kid in the strawberry field.

The kid looked around my age, maybe a bit older. They had curly strawberry blond hair and tan skin like they spent almost all of their time outside. "Sure thing, just let me put this-"

"Nonsense, Sandra over there will take care of whatever it is." Mr. D interrupted. "I've got a card game to finish, so if you would please, George Salazar, show around, er, what's your name?" He turned to me.

"Elizabeth Herman," I answered. "I go by Ellie, though."

"Yes, show Lizzy Henderson around."

"On it Mr. D," the kid said. I didn't trust that their name was Garrett Smith or George Salazar.

I left the table and met the kid at the bottom of the stairs. They greeted me with a bright smile. "Hey, I'm Greyson Summit," they said. "I wish I were George Salazar. Oh, to be on Broadway, instead picking strawberries for the god of wine," they said dreamily.

I returned a smile. "I'm Ellie. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, and don't worry," Greyson added, "you don't have to bow down to Mr. D. He doesn't do much."

I nodded my head. Like Perry the Platypus, I thought. "Why would I need to bow down to him?" I asked.

"Oh, right, I should explain," Greyson said. "That's Dionysus, the god of wine and all that. You said your mom said something about your dad, right? I'm assuming she meant he's a god too."

I felt like I had been hit by a brick. I probably was at some point if I didn't remember basic stuff from sixth grade English, but that's not the point.

"Wait, I think I've read about this place," I said.

Greyson got a confused look on their face. "Like, in The Lightning Thief?" I nodded my head. "Woah." They laughed. "Not to be dramatic, but you should probably be dead. Let's head to the east."

Greyson began walking off towards what I assumed was the east, leaving me the opposite of "no thoughts, head empty."

I ran to catch up with them.

"By the time we're done it should be time for lunch, then I'll show you the other side after," they were saying.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

We made our way along the creek towards the east woods. Greyson wasn't the best tour guide. We would pass by something and they'd randomly point out what it was. At least it wasn't a safari. I nearly giggled at the thought.

"Volleyball court. Art's and crafts. Hermes kids doing. . . something. Oh no, there's fire again."

I watched as a couple kids tried to stomp out a small flame in the grass.

"Again?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Greyson. "Come on."

They tried to strike up small talk. Unfortunately, both of us were quite bad at making conversation. Maybe it was best we weren't as good at striking things up as those Hermes kids.

I tried thinking of some icebreakers and introduction questions while we walked around.

"What are your pronouns?" I asked.

"They/them," Greyson said. "I'm genderfluid, but it's easier to use they/them pronouns than correcting people all the time. But if it really bothers me sometime I'll correct you, just a heads up."

"Cool. Thanks for letting me know."

More silence.

"Your pronouns are she/her, right?" they asked.

I nodded.

"So. . . where are you from?" Greyson asked after a bit more silence.

"Arizona," I answered.

"Oh, cool," they responded.

More silence.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Kansas."

Out of all the new and crazy info I'd gotten that day, that one won first place by far. "But I thought Kansas didn't exist?"

"What?"

I shrugged.

We made it to the rock wall. The heat emitting from it reminded me of Arizona summers. A girl dropped down nearby where we were standing.

"Beat ya!" she shouted up. She looked over at us. "Oh, hey Greyson. Who's this?"

The girl was short. Well, maybe short to me, I'm 5'8". She was maybe 5'4"? (Is that short?) She had dark brown skin and vitiligo. She also had brown eyes and dark brown coily hair.

"This is Ellie," Greyson said. "Do you think Kansas exists?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Do you think Kansas exists?" Greyson repeated.

"Yes, of course," the girl answered.

"Even before you met me?" they asked.

She paused, before answering, "Well, I hadn't given it much thought before."

"Damn, alright," Greyson said. "Ellie, this is Leila."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

Another girl dropped down from the wall. She had black hair with a split dye that was hot pink. Her hair was steaming, and her tan skin looked blistered in a couple spots. "You cheated!" She pointed at Leila accusingly.

"How do you cheat at a rock wall?" I asked.

"How can you think Kansas doesn't exist?!" Greyson asked me.

"Hold up, you didn't think Kansas existed?" the new girl asked me. "Wait, who are you?"

"I'm Ellie," I answered.

"Cool, I'm Chleo," she said. "Anyways, you thought Kansas didn't exist?"

"I thought it was made up for the plot of the Wizard of Oz!" I said. They all just looked at me. "How many people have you met that are from Kansas? What has ever happened in Kansas? What exists there?" I asked.

"Well, I know Greyson. . . ." Chleo said.

"The National World War I Museum is in Kansas City!" Greyson claimed. We all just stared at them. They put their hands up defensively.

"So. . . how do you cheat at rock wall climbing?" I asked again, hoping to drop the subject of Kansas.

"Oh I'm a daughter of Hecate," Leila said. She snapped her fingers and her and Chleo had switched places as Chleo went to rest her arm on Leila's shoulder. "The mist is easy to manipulate for me." She shrugged, ignoring Chleo on the ground.

"You bitch!" Chleo exclaimed from the floor. "Which also means, she cheated," Chleo said, getting up.

"No, I just used my resources!" said Leila. "They tell us to do that."

A horn sounded in the distance. "Come on Ellie, we have to line up for lunch," Greyson said. "We can go with the Hermes cabin, since they're here." He glanced above my head before walking towards a forming line of kids with mischievous looks on their faces, like I was told I had.

"Who's your godly parent?" I asked Greyson.

"My dad's Apollo," they said quietly. "We're not really supposed to talk in lines but lots of people do anyways."

We walked in silence to the dining pavilion. We went over the creek, passed by a huge arena, an archery range, the cabins. I knew there wouldn't be much left for Greyson to show me after lunch, but I knew continuing to let them show me around was better than to be friendless.

I was handed a plate of food and sat on the end of table eleven next to a kid with curly light brown hair and hazel eyes. He looked older than me.

"Oh, hey newbie!" he said. "I'm Austin."

"I'm Ellie," I said. "Nice to meet you Austin."

"Nice to meet you too Ellie," he said. "I'm the head of cabin eleven and one of the camp counselors this year. It doesn't matter too much, but I suppose it's good to know. Come on newbie, it's our turn at the fire." We all got up and walked over to the big bronze brazier in the middle of the pavilion.

I watched as Austin pushed a portion of his plate into the fire. "Hermes," he said.

I pushed a portion of brisket into the flames. "Hermes?" I said, though it came out as more of a question. Austin laughed and shook his head, and we went back to table eleven.

Back at the table I talked a bit more with Austin. He told me he has a twin sister, Kaite, and how he's from Michigan and moved to New Jersey a few years ago. He's turning nineteen this October and is really into crafting because he grew up doing it with his mother as a kid.

"What did you mean it didn't matter that you're head of cabin eleven?" I asked.

"Not that part, the part about being camp counselor," he said. "Camp counselors and cabin counselors are different. We call cabin counselors cabin heads to avoid confusion, but you'll hear both. Cabin heads just make sure none of their siblings are being absolutely stupid and lead them to their activities. Prep for inspection, all that. Camp counselors are more of like, the older sibling to everyone, they're all cabin heads, they do inspection, stuff like that. Kinda take charge. They're the people you go to if you need something. Some cabins have more than one counselor, by the way."

"What about Chiron?" I asked.

"Well, you'd go to him for super important stuff, like emergencies. A serious injury, an attack. Mr. D, well, just, never go D with an emergency. He'll most likely do nothing. Actually, he's good to go to if you have any questions regarding sexuality or gender identity." He paused for a moment, before continuing, "Camp leadership! Right!

"So once Percy and Annabeth -- you know who they are? -- Coolio, once they left everyone realized they forgot how to run the camp because they did everything and wars and all that jazz. Instead of trying to remember, they made new over-complicated systems to run the place. They work though. Until the older heroes came back. A couple summers ago the older campers came back to teach here." He pointed to the director's table. Along with Mr. D, I saw a few other adults chatting and eating. "Ever since they came back, us camp counselors have been kinda demoted. No one comes to us much anymore. Granted, they do know more, but it kinda sucks being demoted. Some of the cabin heads get replaced by the adults too, if they have an adult sibling here. But since they teach they're not around much for their cabin. It doesn't make too much sense." He shook his head.

"Maybe it's just that awkward telling a twenty year old what to do," I suggested. "Who are all the camp councelors?"

"There's me, Emma from the Aphrodite cabin, Ricky from the Apollo cabin, and Asia from the Iris cabin," Austin answered.

"You see? I just came to you for a question, you're not useless!" My words of encouragement didn't seem to make him all too much better. Though, I was never too good at encouraging others.

"I guess," he said. "That reminds me, after lunch is over I need to get you a copy of the Camp Half-Blood Confidential. And a shirt."

"The what now?"

"Years ago, after the last war, they were talking about what they would change about camp and all that, and Nico said the orientation video, which only he had seen. Everyone ended up watching it and they decided, 'Woah, this is terrible!' So they wrote a book."

They did what now? "That's stupid," I said. Who would write an important informational book for kids with dyslexia to read?

Austin looked at me questioningly. "What do-" He was cut off by a loud voice from elsewhere in the pavilion.

"Alright everyone," Mr. D stood up for announcements, "we have a new camper. Everyone say hi to Lizzy Henderson." There was a bit of hesitant applause before someone else from the director's table stood up.

"Maybe we should let her introduce herself," she said, giving a quick glare to Mr. D. He muttered something about how he did a fine job before the woman continued. Her gray eyes scanned the tables for the new face. "If you want to stand up so we can all see you..."

The blonde lady began to reminded me of a middle school English teacher. And I don't know how she didn't notice me, I was the only one not in bright orange. I should've stuck out like a sore thumb.

I stood and her eyes fell on me. Her smile wavered and she said something I couldn't make out to the man next to her, whose back was still facing me. She looked up again and continued, her smile returned. "How about you tell us your name, your age, and where you're from?" she asked.

Most eyes were on me, which bugged me because now I didn't know where to look. I decided to try keeping my eyes on the woman. "I'm Ellie Herman, I'm from Arizona, and I'm fifteen," I said.

I heard a few people start whispering around me. The lady furrowed her brows and looked back down at the man next to her, who then turned around to look at me. I noticed the man's black hair and sea green eyes, along with a nasty scar under his right eye, the same way I had imagined Luke's while reading the books. Then it hit me. The woman talking to me was Annabeth Chase, like, the Annabeth Chase.

"Do you know who your godly parent is yet?" Annabeth asked, sounding almost hopeful.

I shook my head. "No."

After a moment her smile returned. "Well, we're glad to have you here, Ellie." Annabeth turned to the rest of the campers. "Everyone welcome Ellie Herman, undetermined."

#s.chap.2

6 notes · View notes

ghostsray · 4 years

Text

Ch14: Breathe

(first - previous - next)

Niel drifted across the sky, letting the wind brush against his invisible form. The city lights shone below him like stars on earth. As he floated along the wind, he thought about how strange it was that very few humans were able to experience flight the same way he did. Niel was born (or rather "born" in quotation marks) with his ghostly abilities and considered them a normal part of his life. Then again, most things about his life could hardly be described as normal.

As he flew, he saw the hard-to-ignore outline of Fentonworks, with its large UFO-shaped ops center on top. Seriously, the Fentons had a strange sense of architecture. He drifted closer and found a familiar boy sprawled out on the roof, gazing up at the sky.

A plume of blue smoke escaped Danny's mouth as Niel got close. Rather than leap into action, Danny just sighed and droned, "Who is it this time? That better not be Box Ghost again."

Niel invisibly grinned, and he moaned in his best Box Ghost impression, "Beware!"

He let his invisibility drop, showing himself hovering above Danny with his arms raised, fingers wiggling. Danny snickered. "Nice Boxy impression."

Niel landed cross-legged next to Danny's prostrate form. He traced his vision up to the sky, where the stars twinkled as if the cosmos were breathing. "Ellie said you like space."

"You mean you don't?" Danny replied with an eyebrow raised.

Niel gazed at the night lights in the sky. He had to admit, there was something comforting about them. Space was so vast, it made him feel small...but strangely calm at the same time. There was a whole universe that will continue to exist in spite of all the problems he went through.

Oh, great, he was starting to like astronomy.

"Ellie," Danny said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You mentioned that name before. Is it your nickname for Dani?"

Niel wrinkled his nose. "Come on, calling her Dani has got to get confusing at times."

"Oh, absolutely. But it's also hilarious. Like how--"

"There's two Hawkeyes?" Niel guessed.

"And two Spider-Men. Also two Captain Americas. And Hulks. And Thors. And--"

"Geez, how many doubles are there in Marvel comics?"

"Like a lot, you have no idea."

Niel laughed, and Danny smiled. He was still lying on his back, looking up at the stars. But despite his smile and his jokes, he looked tense.

Niel looked away and fidgeted with his cape. "So...how are things with your family?"

Danny shrugged. "My parents who wanted to hunt me down for two years now know that I'm the ghost they wanted to kill and are super duper guilty about it. It's a little awkward, but hey, no big."

"You didn't have to reveal yourself to them."

Danny sighed. He pushed himself into a sitting position and stared down at his lap. "No. You were right...back when we first met. You said I was scared of my parents."

"Oh...I did say that, didn't I," Niel said sheepishly, remembering the day Danny and he met face to face and Niel had tried to get Danny to ditch his family in favor of Vlad.

"That's the thing," Danny continued. "I was scared, as long as they were planning on capturing Phantom. I had to tell them the truth. It was the only way to allow myself to breathe."

"And now you're okay with them?"

Danny nodded. Yet he still didn't seem relaxed.

"Are you sure?" Niel said with a frown.

"I am! Sheesh. You're my clone, not my sister."

Danny was pointedly not looking at Niel. Niel tried to lean into his vision, but Danny turned his head away.

At first, Niel figured he was still tense about his parents. Then he began to wonder if Danny was angry at him for some reason. Did he do something wrong?

Then he realized: Danny was avoiding looking at him the same way he did back in the lab.

Niel summoned the spot of warmth in his chest and turned into his human half. As soon as he did, Danny visibly relaxed. He even let out a small breath he had been holding.

"You're scared of my ghost half," Niel said.

Danny finally looked up at niel. He bit his lip guiltily and glanced to the side. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

He sighed defeatedly. "I'm sorry. It's not you. It's just...you remind me of someone."

"Is it Vlad?" Niel asked. He knew he had some of Plasmius's traits in ghost form, whether from the few genes Vlad gave him, or from unconsciously mimicking his dad's ghostly appearance. Vlad was the only one beside Danny that Niel knew he looked similar to.

But Danny shook his head. "It's not Vlad. It's..." He took a shaky breath and said, "It's me."

"You're...scared of your ghost half?" Niel asked, tilting his head.

"No! Not me me, it's..." Danny sighed and rubbed his face. "Sorry, this is a long story. It's a version of me I'm scared of."

Niel could definitely sense that it was a long story. He scooted close to Danny until the two were sitting side by side. "You mind telling it to me?" Niel asked.

Danny rubbed his neck. Niel could tell he was nervous, and he was about to give up listening to his story until Danny spoke, "I went to the future once."

"Because of Clockwork," Niel guessed. Danny looked up at him in surprise, and Niel shifted in place and quickly added, "I've heard of him. Ghost who controls time, right?"

He figured now was not the best time to admit that he had met the time ghost himself. Danny just nodded and continued with his story.

"Clockwork," he said. "He...well, his employers kind of wanted me dead."

"Why?"

"I kind of did something really bad in the future."

"It can't be that bad," Niel said. Danny was such a good guy. There was no way someone like him would do anything terrible.

Danny raised an eyebrow and asked, "Does causing the end of the world sound bad to you?"

Niel's jaw dropped. He waited for Danny to laugh and say he was kidding, but Danny was completely serious. Once Niel remembered how to form words, he said, "What?"

Danny hunched over, like he was trying to protect himself from the air blowing around them. His expression turned grim. "Apparently, my family died in that timeline, and that made me flip," he explained. "I...he killed his human half. Then the whole world. Even that wasn't enough, and I messed with all the ghosts in the ghost zone. I was...he was horrible."

Niel was so shocked that he didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell Danny something comforting, but of course, he inherited Danny's terrible social skills, so what came out of his mouth was instead, "I look like your future self? But I thought I look younger."

"It's Plasmius," Danny said. "For some reason, my future self absorbed Vlad's ghost half or something. I don't know. Probably a part of his flipping out saga."

"And that made him look like a mix of you and Plasmius," Niel said. He felt his gut churn with guilt. No wonder Danny couldn't look at him. He unconsciously moved his hand to his ear, which was round in human form, but he knew how much pointier it looked when he was a ghost...more like Plasmius than Phantom.

Danny brought his knees to his chest and hugged them. "So, yeah," he said, "I was that bad in the future."

"But that's not your future anymore, is it?" Niel said, growing a little nervous. "You would never turn into him."

"No," Danny agreed. "Clockwork made sure of that. I won't become Dan--uh, which is what I call him." He buried his chin into his knees and said in a small voice, "But I didn't have a change of heart so easily. When I first saw a glimpse of Dan in Clockwork's time window, do you know what I first thought?"

"That he's a bit of a jerk?" Niel ventured.

"That his powers were cool."

"Oh," Niel said. "Yikes."

In the night's darkness, Danny's normally azure eyes looked almost black. They looked down as he said, "It's not until I actually visited the future and saw for myself all that he had done, all the pain and destruction he caused, that I knew just how bad I could turn up." He lifted his head from his knees to take a deep breath and said, "But it's fine. I'm over that now."

Niel was skeptical of that last statement. Danny didn't seem very over that, not if he still tensed up at the sight of Niel's ghost half. "Are you?"

Danny's jaw set, and he stated, "I promised myself I would never become Dan."

Niel could sense an unspoken but. Danny didn't continue, so Niel prompted, "But...?"

Danny bit his lip and turned his head away from Niel. "But nothing," he lied.

"Danny, I'm practically a carbon copy of you," Niel insisted. "I know if you're hiding something."

Danny winced guiltily and buried his head between his shoulders. "But..." He glanced at Niel quickly before saying, "But you exist."

Silence. The words seeped into Niel's brain until he understood their meaning, and once he did, he was filled with rage. "Wait--you thought I would turn into him?"

Danny threw his hands up and exclaimed, "What was I supposed to think? You were talking about how you were made to replace me--"

"I wasn't going to actually do that!" Niel argued, bristling.

"You were raised by Vlad!"

That shout seemed to echo across the sky as Niel fell speechless. Both boys were silent apart from their ragged breathing. Niel turned away, and he said in a tiny voice, "Oh."

He thought that he and Danny had grown to become friends. But apparently, Danny still distrusted him as much as he had since their first meeting. He bit his tongue and glared down at the streets below.

Next to him, Danny's breathing softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that."

Niel shook his head. "No, you're right. I was raised by Vlad...I am being raised by him."

He heard a slapping sound and looked up to see Danny facepalm himself. "I'm so stupid--here I am talking about my problems, and I didn't even think to ask about you and your dad."

Niel clenched his jaw and turned his sight back down. He had been holding on to the tentative hope that Vlad could become a better person, but now, he wasn't so sure. Still, he raised his chin and said with faux confidence, "I think he can change."

Niel expected Danny to respond with skepticism, or worse, outright disbelief. To his surprise, Danny mumbled, "Yeah, you're right."

He looked sideways and saw that Danny had returned his gaze to the sky, but his eyes held a distant look to them, like he was thinking back to an old memory. Niel wondered what made him consider Vlad capable of change. Did it have anything to do with the future he visited? But that didn't make sense...Dan absorbed Vlad, didn't he? Or was that just his ghost half? Could it be seperated?

Niel's head hurt. He didn't understand anything, but he was too afraid to ask.

A quietness settled between them. He looked up, watching the stars twinkle and the clouds move with every breath the sky gave.

"You're not a bad person, Niel," Danny broke the quiet by saying. "Regardless of whether Vlad decides to change or not. And...I know you're not Dan."

Niel wanted to believe him, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized Danny did have a point earlier--he was raised by Vlad, and he learned some morally questionable things from him. Besides... "I almost burned down a restaurant today," Niel recalled guiltily.

He didn't need to look to the side to imagine Danny grimacing. "Hey, at least I stopped you, right?" He saw Danny shift in the edge of his vision and turned his head to see the other boy facing him, his eyes fixed intently on Niel. "Maybe we can both watch over each other, make sure neither of us turns evil. We'll look after each other...as brothers."

"I thought you insisted I'm not your brother."

"That was before I got to know the real you underneath Vlad's brainwashing."

Niel felt a warm feeling grow in his chest, but he squashed it down. Instead, he said, "What do you call Ellie? Your cousin?"

Danny appeared to be caught off guard by his question. "Um, yeah."

"And I'm her brother," Niel said. "That makes us cousins, too."

Through the darkness, he saw Danny smile. "Alright, then, Cuz."

They turned their attention to the horizon, where the slightest hint of red light was climbing the black sky. Was it dawn already? He had spent nearly the entire night awake.

"It's late," Danny said, voicing both their thoughts. "I should probably head back inside."

Niel was already on his feet. Once they were both standing, they faced each other awkwardly and shook hands.

"Bye, Cuz," Danny said. "I'll see you at school."

Niel groaned and brought a palm to his face. "I can't believe I forgot about school."

Danny chuckled. "At least you have the weekend to catch up on missed work. Maybe you can text Sam for help. I know you have her number."

Niel kept his hand on his face to hide the blush that crept into his cheeks. "Yeah."

Danny moved toward the door leading downstairs. He paused and looked back to see Niel still standing in the same spot, unchanged.

"Um, you can change into your ghost form," Danny said. "I can handle it."

Niel gave him a small smile and said, "It's fine, I just want to stay here a bit longer, if you don't mind."

He pretended not to notice Danny's poorly veiled relief at not seeing him transform. Danny disappeared into his house, and Niel was left standing on the roof by himself.

The high altitude breeze was cool against his human skin. He took in a deep breath, then let it out.

He had already known that his dad was not the best person, and neither was he. But could he really become corrupted enough to turn into a world-ending monster? Was Danny right in believing people could change?

Ugh. He was barely half a year old, and already, his life was a complicated mess. He really hoped things aren't always this hard or confusing, but he had a feeling they will be.

After a few more minutes of breathing in air and watching the stars, he lept off the roof and transformed, letting the wind carry his ghost form home to a father who may or may not have been redeemed.

#the month of may is over but im still tagging this as #dannymay #dannymay2020 #danny phantom #niel masters #danny fenton #fic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #mine

22 notes · View notes

dvp95 · 5 years

Text

seen but not heard

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: mature

warnings: none

tags: memory loss, amnesia, hurt/comfort, introspection, established relationship, domestic, an annoying amount of communication

word count: 7,070

sequel to still the best, more or less (which you can read on ao3 or here on tumblr) and so easy to come back into you (on ao3 and tumblr) and is that as good as it gets? (on ao3 and tumblr)

Bingo squares: forever home + breakfast bar + advocacy + emergency contact + instagram stories + frottage + picnic + movie plot au (yep. you read that right.)

read on ao3 or here!

Phil's hair is getting so long. The somewhat damaged ends curve around his ears, pieces of fringe falling into his eyes several times a day before being impatiently brushed away. It's soft, lazily pushed off his forehead, because he hasn't quite gotten the hang of quiff styling just yet. Dan almost wishes he'd helped Phil with it, Before, so that he could be more useful now.

There's a lot of things he wishes he'd done Before. He's dealing with one of them now, watching Phil run his hand over the cool, diamond tiles of an island counter that doesn't belong to them.

"It's nice," he says, noncommittal, but Dan isn't going to be polite for their real estate agent's sake.

"It's ugly," says Dan. "We don't want tile, we want granite. Or marble."

Phil blinks over at him with that carefully neutral face that Dan hates. "I mean, it's fine. It's just the counters. The rest of the kitchen is still nice."

It isn't. Dan can spot at least a dozen details that would have had Phil catching his eye with a sardonic little smile just a handful of months ago. The drawer handles are the knobby kind that Phil tends to knock his shins into, the hanging lights over the island counter are downright tacky, and everything's a little bit dated in the way that screams time and money spent renovating.

Their agent is nodding, though, because she had already gotten very familiar with their weird mish-mash of a wishlist before she needed to be reintroduced to Phil.

"I know that this room isn't ideal for you," Ellie is saying, tapping on her phone with a little stylus pen. "But the rest of the house has some great features, and the outside space was too good to ignore it altogether."

While she isn't looking, Phil lets some of his mask slip. It isn't what Dan wants to see, it's his 'why are you making a scene' eyebrows, but he still feels a slight comfort at being able to clock it. Sometimes Phil is impossible to read, on purpose, and Dan wants to tear his hair out from the root whenever that happens.

Dan crosses his arms over his chest and pulls his mouth in a way that he's sure has one of his dimples out, because he can feel the muscles in his cheek hugging the corner of his lips.

Phil rolls his eyes and taps at the tile countertop once, twice. Dan knows what that means, too, and he's still not thrilled about it.

They used to be on the same page, is the thing. They'd spent so many years arguing over the smallest of details for a home that had been purely hypothetical, watching renovation shows and saying, when we get our place, that now Dan feels wrongfooted.

"Alright, let's see the outside, then," Dan says, unable to hold back his irritation. Phil frowns at him again, but the mask is back up the moment that Ellie looks at them.

"Great! Just follow me."

Phil does so easily, following Ellie out of the kitchen and into the conservatory, but Dan has to take a moment.

He takes a couple deep breaths and runs his fingers over the ugly tile, wondering if Phil's tastes have actually changed so drastically or if he just doesn't care as much, being more or less a uni student. Neither of them had cared much about that sort of thing back then.

That was before they settled into themselves, into each other, before they'd formed opinions on things like the types of handles they'd have in their kitchen someday.

Maybe it would have been better if they'd done this last year, when they first started properly looking. Except they'd been too busy, always too busy, and Dan had been on an emotional rollercoaster of his own creation, and Phil had been so stressed he was passing out in bathrooms.

So maybe it would have gone even worse. Maybe they'd be stretched too thin and talking to each other too sharply instead. But the uncertainty is killing Dan, making him wonder, wonder, wonder.

Dan taps the tile once, twice, just like Phil had done, even though nobody is in the room to see it. We'll talk about this later.

The garden is nice enough. So is the rest of the house, really, but it isn't theirs, isn't going to be theirs. Dan can't see himself in it, can't see Phil in it, and he gives Ellie an apologetic little shrug on their way back to her car.

"That's alright, Daniel," she's saying in that briskly cheerful way of hers. "I've got a couple more places I can show you boys today. Nothing checks off all your items just yet, but I'm keeping my eyes and ears open for you - and, of course, you might still fall in love with a home that seems imperfect on paper!"

At the L word, Phil reaches for him. Dan has to fight not to pull his hand back, muscle memory, but he keeps his flinching internal and allows Phil to tangle their fingers together.

They're outside on the pavement in the late hours of the morning, December frost allowing them to see glimpses of their breath in the air. They listen to Ellie chatter as she digs around her purse for her keys and Dan doesn't freak out about holding his boyfriend's hand in public.

"That sounds nice," Phil says, squeezing Dan's hand a bit too tightly to be entirely reassuring.

Dan already knows how this conversation is going to go. Phil is going to ask him why he was being rude, Dan is going to try not to blame the memory loss for his frustration, and they'll probably end up more annoyed than when they started. They've still got a couple more places to look at before then, though, and Dan isn't sure how he feels about being the only one vetoing these places.

Scratch that. He knows exactly how he feels about it, and that's alone. He feels very, very alone when Phil isn't backing him up the way he used to.

They have to let go of each other to clamber in the car, Phil claiming shotgun easily, and Dan already misses the feeling of Phil's hand in his own. Phil's hands are always so soft, the weight of them so reassuring even when he's using them to tell Dan to stop being dramatic.

Dan links his own fingers together in his lap and zones out from the polite small talk happening in the front seat, watching the unfamiliar borough pass by through the window.

Sure enough, they're alone for five seconds in their building's swanky lift when Phil says, "You were being a dick."

Dan exhales slowly and keeps his eyes on the mindless app game he's playing. "And?"

"And, why?" Phil asks, and Dan doesn't need to look at him to know he's rolling his eyes. He does that a lot when he's frustrated with Dan, and sometimes it gets under Dan's skin in a way that leads to an argument, but he's not in that defensive type of mood today.

"Because we weren't going to buy any of those places," Dan says, "so why should I pretend like I was interested in them?"

"Well, of course we weren't," says Phil.

That surprises Dan into glancing up. His phone vibrates as he loses the level, but he doesn't actually care. He feels the corners of his mouth twitching and tries not to let them curve upwards, because he's still a little annoyed with Phil for not being on his side all day. He wonders if Phil can tell he's trying not to smile.

Probably. Phil grins at him, and Dan loses the battle.

"If you know that," Dan laughs and leads the way out of the lift, down their winding hallway. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I've got manners, Daniel," Phil sniffs. He's patting down his jacket and jeans, looking for the keys that Dan's actually got. Dan lets him search for longer than strictly necessary before he pulls out his keys and lets them in.

Phil snorts and shoves lightly at Dan's shoulder, but the tension between them has relaxed into something that Dan can handle. Over the past few months, Phil has learned how to argue with Dan in a way that isn't so pointed, is more conducive to actual change, but Dan still doesn't like arguing with Phil. He'd much rather bicker, all the honesty without the sharp edges of real insults.

"I just don't think it's necessary to pretend like we're interested in places we aren't going to buy," Dan says, shrugging out of his jacket. "It's Ellie's job to find us the right place."

"Do you think the right place exists?"

The question stumps Dan for a moment. Of course the right place exists, they just have to find it, and probably rework parts of it to be perfect for them. He's not usually the one pulling out blind optimism in casual conversation, but it just seems so unlikely that they'll be searching forever.

"I do," says Dan. "I do think the right place is out there. And so do you."

It's always a little risky these days, stating Phil's feelings like they're fact. Sometimes it makes Phil bristle.

This time, Phil just smiles at him. He reaches for Dan and Dan doesn't flinch, going easily into Phil's arms and accepting the slow kiss with a smile of his own. They haven't even left the entryway.

The cold outside has seeped into Phil, making his fingers and lips chilly with it, and Dan presses closer to try and chase it away. Phil giggles into the kiss and presses his cold hands to the sides of Dan's neck.

"Awful!" Dan yelps, smacking his hands away.

Phil giggles again, pushing his tongue between his teeth as he does so, and Dan almost isn't able to keep a straight face. His cheeks are tinted pink from the wind and his crow's feet are deep with unabashed joy. He's beautiful, and happy, and Dan only hangs onto his scowl by a thread.

"What?" Phil asks, all performatively wide eyes. He has long lost the ability to use the innocent act on Dan.

"Your hands are fucking frozen, mate," says Dan. "Keep them away from me."

"Thought you liked it when I touch you," Phil laughs, seemingly oblivious to the way Dan's stomach twists at the joke. He wiggles his fingers at Dan threateningly. "What're you gonna do?"

"Make you sleep on the sofa."

It's a laughably empty threat, and Phil knows that at this point. He grins wider and reaches for Dan's face with both hands.

Dan shrieks a protest and ducks away, bounding up the stairs and only sparing a moment's thought to worry when he hears Phil curse and bang his knee on a step in chase. He feels like a kid again, playing a weird sort of tag, and the tension from the day is melting out of Dan as they shout nonsense at each other and do fake-outs around the sofa.

This is better. Better than the arguing that Dan had expected and even better than the bickering that he'd settle for. He lets himself get caught in the kitchen, laughing like a hyena when Phil sticks his cold hands up his shirt and holds him against their breakfast bar, which has no ugly tile in sight for them to get fixated on.

Phil presses their open mouths together and Dan, for once, is thankful that he doesn't know this Phil as well as he thinks he does.

There was a time in Dan's life, not all that long ago, where the concept of permission to touch was almost an afterthought. In the privacy of their own home, where there were never prying eyes or judgements from strangers, they would put their hands, their lips, their entire selves, anywhere on each other and it would be more than okay with the other. Sure, there were always days where they didn't want to be touched, but they knew each other's moods and body language well enough that it stopped needing to be verbalized.

Now, it is no longer a given that what they want is each other's touch at all times.

Is this okay?, Dan will ask, wrapping his arms around Phil, kissing his forehead, heart pounding as he waits to hear if the soft affection is all too much for Phil today.

Is this okay?, Phil will ask in return, his hesitant fingers skimming over Dan's bare skin like he isn't sure if he's allowed, because sometimes he is not.

The boundaries have shifted, and sometimes Dan worries that this is permanent, that he and Phil will never again be able to read each other so well that the question is only confirmation, not permission.

Sometimes, Dan is scared that things between the two of them will never be the same again. He'd held onto some kind of hope for a while that Phil would one day wake up and be himself again, but that was in September. Now, their box of Christmas decorations is out and ready to be unpacked, but Phil still feels... different. Slightly off. Uncanny Valley.

"Maybe this is just who he is, now," Dan says quietly. "Maybe we're already past the point of this thing affecting us forever."

"Maybe," says Robin. Her volume matches his, but her tone is full of warmth. She uncrosses her legs and leans forward a bit, tucking a stray thin braid behind her ear. "Would knowing that be better or worse than the uncertainty?"

That's a good question. Dan chews his lip a little bit and glances at his old friend, the fern in the corner. He's impressed by her ability to keep it alive.

"I don't know. Better, maybe, because at least I won't be waiting for something that might never come."

"What are you waiting for?" Robin asks. When Dan can only shrug, she tries again. "Let me rephrase that. If you woke up tomorrow and things between you and Phil were, as you've put it in past sessions, 'back to normal', how would you know? What would the indicators of change be?"

Dan doesn't really like to think about it, if he's honest, but he supposes that's kind of the whole point of this therapy thing.

He sighs and looks down at his own hands. "We would just... know. I wouldn't need to teach him things about me, he wouldn't get that look in his eyes I don't understand anymore. We'd just know each other again."

There's a long moment of quiet, then. Dan can't tell if it's because Robin is processing his words or because she's giving him space to keep talking, but it doesn't really matter in the end. He doesn't mind the stretches of silence that happen a few times every session, broken only by the low hum of the office space heater, because he understands the purpose of them.

"You know," she says, still so soft, "that's the way most relationships work, Daniel."

Dan blinks, his long fingers curling into his palms. "What do you mean?" he asks, even though he's pretty sure he knows the answer already.

"I mean that all relationships are based on communication," says Robin. "And from what you've told me since we started seeing each other, it seems to me like you and Phil became most comfortable using non-verbal communication. Am I right in thinking that?"

The one-two tap to the island counter that didn't belong to them: We'll talk about this later. The tentative brush of fingers over Dan's waist while they kiss: Is this okay?

"I think we still are," Dan says, slow. "But it isn't as... seamless, I guess, as it used to be."

"People grow and change," Robin reminds him. "They'll do that even without the trauma the two of you have been through. I know that change is scary, but maybe it's an opportunity for you and Phil to grow together."

Dan looks up and gives her a sardonic little smile. "You're saying that talking is good, actually."

"Of course it is." Robin laughs, and Dan feels that weird sense of pride that he always gets when his therapist thinks he's funny. "I'm not here to tell you what to do or how to live your life, but, yes. Talking is very good, actually."

"Ugh," Dan jokes, relaxing into his chair a bit more.

The lighter mood is a welcome shift, but Dan knows that the undercurrent of anxiety won't go away unless he addresses it. He looks over at the fern, its leaves more or less stationary now that it's too cold for Robin's fan to be running.

"I'm scared," he says, "that if we alter parts of our relationship, it's like we're giving up altogether on the way things were."

"And that's a bad thing?" Robin asks. Dan likes the way she manages to keep her tone level - like she's clarifying, not judging. He wonders if it's a skill he would ever be able to emulate.

"I guess it's more of a different thing than a bad thing," Dan admits. "Because, like. I love him and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him either way. And I'm always going to wish this didn't happen, because it's not fair and it sucks, but I don't, like, hold it against him or anything. I just can't help... hoping."

It makes guilt settle in Dan's gut every time he voices that, no matter how much Robin - and Phil - assure him that it's a totally reasonable thing for him to be feeling.

He can't shake the niggling doubt that Phil wouldn't be so hung up on the past if the situation was reversed. At first, yeah, sure, he'd have freaked out probably more than Dan had, but Dan can't imagine him being anything but excited about small memories coming back, while Dan still has to hold back waves of disappointment. He knows Phil, every version of Phil, and yet he isn't sure if these doubts are pure paranoia about his own reactions or if they're accurate. It doesn't really matter. He's never going to know for sure.

What he does know, and what he reminds himself of often, is that Phil loves him. They love each other, and they can get through this even if it's scary, if it hurts, if Phil never remembers a single thing again. They'll still be okay. What they've built together is solid, no matter what fleeting worries they might have.

"I think it's very normal to hope," Robin says. She's predictable in her platitudes, but Dan is still glad to hear it. "It does sound scary to come back and rework things in a relationship you thought would stay the same forever. Have there been times in the past that the two of you needed to come back to a boundary or behaviour for whatever reason and say, 'hey, this isn't working for me anymore'?"

"Yeah," Dan says, slowly. He's struggling to think of an example that isn't kink-based. He hates his brain sometimes. "Uh..."

Blessedly, Robin waves a hand in his general direction. "You don't have to tell me. I just want you to think about those times, okay? Remember that you needed to talk this sort of thing through Before, too, just not as often."

Dan can hear the emphasis, the same way he hears it in his own mind. The way he thinks that the fans have probably been using it, if Dan could stomach looking at comments anymore.

"Phil might never be the way he was Before," says Dan. His voice sounds too loud in the soft atmosphere, his heart pounding in his ears the way it does every time he says something like this out loud. "Because. He's different forever now, isn't he. This affected him to his core, temporary or not."

Robin nods, more of a prompt to continue than an agreement, but Dan can't speak past the lump in his throat.

"That may be so," she says. "And the same is true for you, Dan, isn't it?"

It is. Dan wishes it weren't, but it is.

He looks at the leaves of the fern again, admires its healthy hue, as he tries to hold back the wetness threatening to surge uncontrollably to his eyes.

Most of the time, Robin gives him a moment to collect himself. Sometimes, though, she gently pushes.

"So if you don't hold that against Phil, why do you hold it against yourself?"

Phil is on the sofa, wrapped in a quilt and concentrating hard on the Crash Bandicoot level he's been trying to beat without Dan's help for the past few days. There are two mugs on the coffee table, bits of steam twisting from them, the weak sun is low in the sky - a downside of winter that Dan forgets about every year until it comes around again - and Phil's got a candle lit.

This place isn't theirs, not really, but the scene looks and smells and feels so much like home that Dan has to steady himself on the doorframe.

The ugly tile, they could have lived with. This, Phil making a cozy nest for them while he waits for Dan because he knows that Dan's always drained after therapy, is something that Dan will never allow himself to live without.

"Hey, you," Dan says when it is clear that Phil is too engaged in the game to notice him.

Crash dies as Phil jumps. An apology is on Dan's lips, but Phil beams up at him and it gets lost somewhere on the way out.

"Jeez, you scared me," Phil laughs. He holds the quilt cocoon open in invitation. That's not something Dan thinks he could ever turn his nose up at. He comes close and settles into the warm space under Phil's arm, pressing a soft kiss to Phil's chest as he does. Phil folds the quilt around them both and kisses Dan's curls. "Hi, love. How was therapy?"

"Hard," Dan rasps out. He snuggles closer, presses himself as close to Phil as he can possibly get in this position. "Don't wanna talk about it yet."

"Okay," says Phil. He squeezes Dan's shoulder. "I made you hot chocolate, when you want it."

Dan closes his eyes and nods, lets the sensation of being loved curl through his body and warm him from the inside.

There's a routine. There always has been.

They'll take turns making food for each other, tidy up the flat half-heartedly, work on projects - or, in Dan's current case, spiral over not working on projects - until they start to go cross-eyed, and then they curl up with an episode or four of something they both like until one of them starts to yawn.

It's a good routine, and it works for them, but today Dan stops Phil from opening his laptop with a hand on his wrist.

"I'm not going to stop being picky about our house."

"What?" Phil asks, brow furrowed adorably.

Dan smiles and shifts his grip so that he's holding Phil's hand. "I'm going to be really annoying about it. I'm a perfectionist, and I'm almost as stubborn as you are, and I care about what our forever home looks like."

"Okay," says Phil. He's blinking at Dan like Dan is out of focus, even though his glasses are on. His coffee clearly hasn't kicked in yet.

"And I would appreciate it," Dan continues, "if you would back me up. We're a team, yeah? I'm not asking you to be rude to anyone, just don't, like... contradict me when you don't mean it. I know you knew that kitchen was ugly as fuck."

The corners of Phil's lips curve upwards, and he shrugs. "Yeah. It really was. What the hell were those lights? We're too tall for hanging lights, Dan."

Dan laughs. Maybe talking isn't so bad after all. He rests his chin on Phil's shoulder and noses into his neck, annoying on purpose so he can hear Phil's little huff of laughter as he gets pushed away.

"We are too tall for hanging lights," Dan agrees, warm. "And did you see the showerhead in the third place? It would spray me in the fucking eye."

"But the right place is out there," Phil reminds him, still smiling.

"It's out there," says Dan. He dimples at Phil, leans in for a slow, simple kiss. "We aren't in any rush."

The way Phil grins at him, so uninhibited and happy, makes Dan wish he'd never doubted this. There are moments, there are always moments, when it is harder, but. Dan is so in love with the Phil beside him right now that he can't even conjure up that disappointment if he wanted to.

"We aren't?" Phil checks, teasing. He wraps both arms around Dan instead of reaching for his laptop again.

Dan likes that Phil isn't so focused on work now, hasn't had the lived experience of settling into such a never-ending schedule of videos, tweets, Instagram stories, liveshows. He still does all those things now, despite Dan's worries, it's just not as all-consuming as it used to be.

"No," says Dan. He knows he's smiling, he can feel it.

"I'm glad your biological clock isn't ticking," Phil teases, tickling Dan's sides, and Dan laughs to cover the pang he feels.

That's a conversation he doesn't know how to have, now. They'd never made solid plans, always a 'someday', after the house and the dog and the telling Dan's family.

They're halfway through that list, but Dan can't imagine bringing that up to Phil at this point. He knows damn well that Phil hadn't wanted kids at the mental age he's at now, and he really doesn't want to see the meerkat face of pure panic.

Instead, Dan pushes that worry down and crawls into Phil's lap. "Mm, not yet," he says, deflecting easily. "You wanna do something today?"

"I've got some work to do," Phil says, apologetic. He squeezes Dan's hips. "Maybe later?"

"Overworking yourself is a habit I really wish you wouldn't fall into again," Dan murmurs, brushing his thumbs over the sharp angles of Phil's cheeks to soften the harshness of his words. "It's not good for you."

It would be easy for Phil to wave off the concern like it's no big deal or to coolly point out that one of them ought to be working, but he just smiles at Dan.

"Okay," he agrees, far more easily than he ever would have Before. "Have you got something in mind?"

Dan doesn't, but he can make decisions on the fly a lot easier than Phil can. "Dunno. Let's get out of the house for a bit, yeah? There's that vegan cafe I've been wanting to try."

To Phil's credit, he barely pulls a face.

"Vegan cafe?"

"Yeah," Dan laughs, presses his open mouth against Phil's jaw for a moment. "I mean, Adrian recommended it - my brother, Adrian - and he's, like, way better about the vegan thing than I am, so. Figured he probably knows what he's talking about."

Phil's eyes light up the tiniest bit. "You've been talking to your brother?"

No. Dan's been stalking Adrian's Instagrams every day since his brother came back to England for Christmas, watching the stories about food and marathons and yeah, maybe wondering what it would be like to be told about all of it firsthand. It's always worst in the weeks leading up to Christmas, the way Dan's goblin brain likes to compare his tenuous relationships with his family to other people - to the Lesters, specifically.

It's hard to be jealous of a thing you've been invited into with open arms, and yet Dan's mind has managed it.

He doesn't know how to explain that to Phil, not when he knows exactly how unreasonable it is, so he just shrugs. "No, saw it on his Insta story the other day."

Phil is too good at that carefully neutral expression, but Dan doesn't mind this time. He doesn't want to see the judgement that he's sure is just under the surface, not when he's still trying to shake the joke about kids.

"Okay," Phil says. "You'll have to get off me so we can get dressed, though."

The sun is beating down on Dan's skin, making him feel hot all over and lazy with it. He stretches out on the blanket underneath him and hums, contentment seeping all the way to his bones.

Lips are pressed to the back of his neck, across his shoulders, down his spine, and he feels his toes curl.

"Feels nice," he murmurs.

"Yeah?" When Phil laughs, the hot exhale of breath against Dan's bare skin makes him shiver despite the heat. "This was your idea, you little rat, don't fall asleep on me."

Dan can't remember his line. He supposes it doesn't really matter, in this hazy dream of a memory. He just wiggles in invitation and makes a low, happy noise when Phil's weight settles properly on top of him.

In reality, he'd gotten sunscreen rubbed into his shoulders and a trail of feather-light kisses in the wake of Phil's hands before Phil made him sit up and eat the sandwiches Dan had brought with them. The beach was private, but so was Phil, and Dan couldn't say no to a picnic he'd been the one to insist on, in any case.

This time, Dan's subconscious wants a different ending. The kisses on his back turn to bites, and he arches into the phantom feeling with a soft groan.

"Dan," Phil says in his ear. He sounds strained in a way Dan didn't expect. "Bear, wake up."

Dan doesn't want to wake up. He wants to chase the warm feelings of pleasure that his dream is promising him. He huffs unhappily and shakes his head, burying his face further into his own arms.

"Seriously, Dan," says Phil, and the tinge of panic is enough to pull Dan completely out of the dream.

Grumbling a bit, Dan blinks his eyes open and takes stock of the situation. He's got his face buried in Phil's chest, not his pillow, and an arm and a leg draped over him carelessly. It's not that unusual of a cuddle to wake up in, but when Dan shifts to get more comfortable, he realises the problem. He's managed to press his dream-induced arousal into the dip of Phil's hip, and he's probably been grinding against it in his sleep.

"Aw, fuck," he groans, rolling onto his back and tossing an arm over his face to hide his blush. "Christ, sorry, I didn't mean to, fucking - sorry."

"I mean, I don't mind." Phil laughs, low and rough from sleep. That fucking laugh. It doesn't help Dan's situation. He also sounds relieved, now that Dan isn't trapping him against the mattress. "But you were sleeping. I didn't want you to be upset when you woke up."

"This is humiliating," Dan informs him.

He feels Phil shrug, their shoulders brushing together. "Not really. I mean, it's fine, you're just a deeper sleeper than me."

"It's stupid," Dan insists, "that we aren't having sex. This is the longest we've ever gone without having sex, and it's my stupid fault, and -"

"Hey," says Phil. His soft, steady hands pull Dan's arm off his face. He props himself up on his side and smiles at Dan, unfocused gaze somewhere around Dan's eyebrows. "Stop that. I don't care."

"How do you not care?" Dan huffs. "All I cared about when I was twenty was getting fucked."

Phil laughs. "Yeah, okay, maybe being in my thirties has caught up to me."

"It has not," says Dan. "Trust me."

"Okay, but you don't want to," Phil says, and Dan feels guilt settle in his gut despite Phil's easy tone. "And I know that. D'you think I've just been sitting here resenting you for it?"

Yes.

Even though Phil doesn't have his glasses on to see Dan, something about Dan's silence must give him away. Phil furrows his brow, humour dropping, and puts his palm over Dan's chest.

"I haven't," Phil says, so earnest with it that Dan wants to cry. "I get why you don't want to, and even if I didn't get it, I'd still be fine with it."

"I should be able to fuck my boyfriend," Dan informs the ceiling, unable to keep looking at Phil while he's exuding pure sincerity. "Hell, I should be able to snog my boyfriend, and I can't even do that without freaking the fuck out. What if it doesn't go away? What if I'm always like this, now? What if you always feel like a stranger, Phil, what then?"

The room is quiet for a couple of beats while Dan tries not to cry while he's got a semi. Phil's hand over his heart is the only thing grounding him from going into a proper spiral.

"First of all, I'm your fiancé," says Phil.

That isn't a response Dan expected. He looks back at Phil, expecting to see a teasing lilt to his mouth, but Phil is still all wide-eyed genuineness. Dan's heart aches.

"I think that makes it worse, probably," Dan whispers.

"Second of all," Phil says like Dan hasn't spoken, "I'm not a dickhead. If you don't want to snog me, we won't snog. If you do, we will. I get that you feel guilty, but like... so do I, babe. Neither of us are the same people anymore, yeah? It's not anyone's fault."

"I guess..."

Phil rolls his eyes. "I love you, not your cock, you absolute idiot."

Giggles burst past Dan's lips before he can stop them, and Phil snorts. They're both laughing softly, then, Phil's forehead pressed to Dan's shoulder and Dan's fingers covering his own mouth.

"D'you even remember my cock?" Dan teases. He yelps when Phil pinches his side, squirming away from it.

"Remember your mum's cock," Phil grumbles.

It's crude and it makes no goddamn sense and both of them are wheezing before long as they trade stupid, sleepy banter and roll around, poking and pinching and tickling.

The guilt is still there, simmering on a low boil in Dan's stomach, but he can work that out in therapy. He's got no reason not to believe Phil except his own paranoia, so. He's going to try.

Dan pushes and pulls at the boundaries while Phil follows his lead, ever patient about the experimentation. Is this okay?, Dan asks when he starts getting changed in the same room as Phil again, his fingers under the waistband of his pants and his teeth working at his lower lip. Is this okay?, Phil asks in response when his mouth finds the underside of Dan's jaw, the curve of Dan's ear, the sensitive pulse point of Dan's neck that makes him gasp.

It isn't always. But they're working on it, they're asking, they're a team even in this, and Dan starts to feel that hope again.

Normally, Dan doesn't answer his phone to unknown numbers. He's a proper millennial - if someone wants to get ahold of him, they can text him, leave a voicemail, or call Phil.

But he's bored, idly cleaning the house while Phil runs errands, and he's all too happy to distract himself from watching Phil's Instagram story from Starbucks for the umpteenth time since it was posted. So he answers it, expecting to tell a telemarketer to fuck off.

"Hullo?" he says, rearranging the mugs in their too-full cupboard by colour.

"May I speak to Daniel Howell?"

Dan gives up on sorting their alarmingly large collection of mugs and takes one out to start making himself a coffee instead. "Speaking. Who's this?"

"Hi, Daniel," the woman on the line says, kindly professional and clipped like she's in a bit of a rush. "I'm calling from St. Joseph's. You're listed as the emergency contact for -"

"Phil," Dan breathes, his blood rushing to his ears and making him dizzy. He barely hangs on to the mug, gripping tight enough to hurt his palm so it doesn't shatter on the tile. "Phil Lester, right? What happened? Is he hurt?"

"He has no serious injuries," she assures him quickly. "Mr. Lester fainted in a public place and was brought in by a member of the public."

Fuck. Fuck, not again.

Dan puts the mug down and starts searching for keys, socks, a jacket. "Fuck," he says out loud, not concerned at all about swearing at a stranger. He's sure she's lovely. "Fuck, alright, St. Joseph's? In A&E, right? I'll be there in, like, fucking. Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Is he awake?"

"He's awake, but he’s confused. Come to the front desk at A&E and we'll get you sorted."

Before she can say anything else, Dan hangs up on her. He's going to hyperventilate if he has to listen to this any more. It takes him a moment to collect himself, remember that it doesn't help anybody for him to fall apart right now, and then he's grabbing his things and rushing out the door.

"I'm fine," Phil is insisting blearily, trying to wave the nurse away from inspecting the small cut on his forehead.

"You hit the pavement," the nurse says, patient, and Dan wants to strangle himself for not joining Phil when he left the flat this morning. "I need to clean this, Philip, so we can see if you need any stitches."

"I don't," says Phil. He's slurring a bit, and that fucking terrifies Dan. "Don't need em."

The nurse, admirably, does not roll his eyes. "I'll be the judge of that, alright? Please stay still for me."

Phil opens his mouth to protest again, and Dan has to step in before Phil's stubbornness gets the better of all of them. His heart is in his fucking throat as he steps closer to Phil's bed, hands shoved in his pockets so nobody can see them shaking.

"Phil, c'mon, let him do his job," Dan says, quiet out of respect for the people around them.

He's practically frozen when Phil looks at him and blinks, confused. Dan hasn't thrown an actual temper tantrum since he was a kid, but this is the kind of thing that could make him scream and break shit. He watches Phil's eyes, round and bewildered behind his broken glasses, and he holds his breath as he waits for the moment of truth.

"Dan," Phil says, and Dan could fucking pass out himself from how relieved he is. "What're you doing here? They're saying I fainted, did I faint?"

"You did," says Dan. He makes eye contact with the nurse before carefully sitting at the foot of Phil's bed. The nurse doesn't ask him to move, so he doesn't. "I wasn't with you, the hospital called me. D'you... do you remember what happened?"

It's more of a loaded question than Dan really wants it to be. Phil still looks confused, and he's trying to wave away the nurse's hand again, so Dan takes both of Phil's hands in his own and squeezes them reassuringly.

Dan is tempted to glance up at the nurse, to look around at all the strangers who might be staring at them, but he honestly couldn't give a toss right now if someone wants to give them a dirty look. Anyway it's unlikely that, in this particular room, anybody cares about two men holding hands.

"You don't need stitches," the nurse announces after a moment. Dan still doesn't let go of Phil's hands. "I'll be back in a moment, okay, Philip? We're going to need to get you a CT scan as soon as possible."

"I don't wanna," Phil groans.

"Well, tough," the nurse says easily enough, and Dan is surprised into laughing. He catches the small smile on the nurse's face before he moves away from the bed, and Dan wonders how Phil can still be so charming to strangers when he's acting like a drunk, pigheaded toddler.

"You know who I am?" Dan checks once they're left more or less alone, brushing his thumbs over the back of Phil's hands.

"Yeah, there's," Phil says, frowning like he doesn't know what comes next. After a moment, he shrugs. "I dunno. Doesn't feel like anything else is, er, gone? Feel the same. Just, like. Confused."

He's less coherent than he'd been in their kitchen all those months ago, and that scares the shit out of Dan. He tries not to let that show, because the last thing he needs is to add to Phil's confusion and anxiety or exacerbate his own.

"I'm glad," Dan jokes weakly instead. "Don't know what I'd do if you forgot me again, mate."

"I'd still love you," Phil says, a little nonsensical.

Dan laughs wetly, his eyes welling up despite himself. "Yeah. I'd make you fall in love with me over and over like, fucking, that Adam Sandler movie or something."

"I dunno that one."

"That's okay. I would."

"Good." Phil smiles at him, a little goofily, and raises Dan's hands to kiss his knuckles. That's a little more intimate than Dan usually cares to be in public, but. Whatever. He's fighting a losing battle with his emotions already. "Mm. Marry me?"

A traitorous tear slips out and Dan huffs a laugh, taking one of his hands back to wipe at his eyes. "I already said yes."

"You said yes but not right now," Phil reminds him, and Dan's heart swells with the confirmation that Phil is still in there. "Yes but later. Well, it's later, isn't it?"

"Is this really the best time?" Dan asks, but he can feel the grin stretching his face.

"Yes, it is." Phil reaches up and pokes Dan's cheek, right in his dimple. "Boop," he stage-whispers.

Dan's laughing then, and crying, everything bubbling up and making him a bit hysterical with it. He presses his lips to the corner of Phil's mouth, because he doesn't care. He doesn't care who sees, he's going to kiss his fiancé. He does remember where they are, though, so he pulls back and giggles at Phil's pout.

He taps once, twice, on Phil's knee. We'll talk about this later.

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #bingo

101 notes · View notes

allthephils · 6 years

Text

Autofocus

Word count: 2140

Rated T for language

It’s just a fluffy little first meeting story in an au where Dan works at an amusement park photo kiosk and Phil likes to ride roller coasters.

Read on AO3

Written for @phanfichallenge photography challenge

Hate is a strong word. Dan doesn’t hate his job, not exactly. He knows it could be worse. He could be cleaning toilets or scraping food off of dishes. He knows that people do real manual labor, dangerous labor, for less money than he’s making to mostly sit on his ass. It’s just that he hates wearing this stupid green polo shirt and he hates going outside during the day. And he really hates dealing with cargo short clad vacation dads that look just like the guys that tried to shove Dan into his locker every day of his high school career. The only difference is these guys are balding and have beer guts and come with tiny little monstrous versions of themselves.

Luckily, poor customer service is a skill that Dan has carefully honed to near perfection. In most cases, he can complete an entire transaction without looking up from his phone. There is one perk to working here though, tit patrol. Tit patrol is the creative title the crew uses to refer to the person who sits at a computer and watches as newly taken photos page by, looking for obscene gestures, exposed arses, and of course tits. These photos get sent to a folder for deletion before they can slip by and show up on the big screen at the back of the kiosk. It’s a coveted position, though the show is far from tantalizing. Quick flashes of all kinds of flesh are more awkward than arousing and they’re interspersed with hundreds of terrified faces and awful shots of vomit flying. Dan loves being on tit patrol because, well because its hilarious, and because it means he doesn’t have to talk to people.

His shift started at 11 AM. Dan walked in at 11:10, iced coffee in hand. He pulled his hideous green polo shirt out and shoved his bag into his cubby. Everyday, he grumbles that he should be aloud to wear black since the kiosk sells photos of riders on a roller coaster called the Vampire. Everyday, his coworkers roll their eyes and ignore him. With his official employee shirt on, collar popped, sleeves rolled up, black t-shirt peeking out at the neck, he took his place behind the counter and began scrolling through Tumblr. It was mostly families with little kids before noon which meant this particular kiosk was dead. The Vampire is way too fast and way too scary for little kids.

The first customer of Dan’s day slides his ticket across the counter. In his usual way, Dan punches the number into his keyboard and the photo appears on both his screen and the one facing the customer.

“Oh wow. So much for my ultra masculine reputation.” The customer giggles a bit, looking at the photo of himself, hand thrown over his eyes, mouth open in a scream of fear, as the coaster sped downhill through a dark and foreboding cave.

Dan looks briefly at the photo and says, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

The customer just stares at Dan who hasn’t so much as glanced at him. “One for 10 or two for twenty? Wait, but that’s not…”

Dan huffs and repeats himself, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

“Okay,” the customer says, resigned, “I’ll take one please. I’ll put it up on my bathroom mirror to keep me humble.”

Dan just sort of grunts as he hits print. He slides the photo into an envelope and hands it over.

His voice is utterly devoid of joy as he issues the standard closing. “Thank you for riding the Vampire, we hope you had a bloody good time.”

A surprised laugh bubbles from the customer as he walks away.

As they move into afternoon, business picks up and a line forms. Dan is on autopilot. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, take the money, print the photo. Take the ticket, enter the numbers, “5x7 for £10, or two for 20.”

“Thought I’d stick with the theme, since I’m clearly a scaredy cat. Get it, scaredy cat?” Dan knows that voice. It’s the customer from earlier. “I’ll pass on the photo though, thanks.”

Dan looks to his screen. This time the man’s face isn’t covered by his hands and it’s a good face. He wears a big smile and his tongue pokes through his front teeth just the smallest bit. He had drawn on a black cat’s nose and whiskers but they don’t hide how strangely good looking he is. Even on this cut rate monitor screen, his eyes look impossibly blue. It’s all framed by a perfect black fringe, not much different than Dan’s own hair. It occurs to Dan that he could be looking right into those eyes and he snaps his gaze to look up at the customer. All he catches is two seriously long legs and a very cute booty walking away in black skinny jeans.

Dan pouts. He never gets to talk to hot boys and now he’d let one slip away. His eyes fall back to the photo on the screen and he sighs.

“Hey, are you working here or what?” Dan curls his lip in disgust at the sharp contrast between the obnoxious American dad in front of him and the ethereal being he saw on the screen. Ok, maybe ethereal is a bit much, but he seems funny and nice and he’s so pretty.

Dan mopes until he’s minutes away from his lunch break. His last customer hands him their ticket and Dan gasps when the photo appears. It’s him! His scaredy cat! The whiskers are gone. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth curled into a proud grin. He holds a small stuffed toy lion aloft, à la Circle of Life. Dan laughs, something he doesn’t do very often at work and the customer in front of him laughs with him.

“That boy.” Such a sweet, maternal tone. “I’ll take two copies please.” Her accent is decidedly northern, even more so than the scaredy cat’s had been. This must be his mum. He’s here with his family. So much for tracking him down and snogging him in the employee locker room. Dan carefully tucks the photos into an envelope and hands them to the nice woman.

He flashes his most parent pleasing smile. “Thank you for riding the Vampire. We hope you had a bloody good time!” He actually sounds sincere.

“Oh! Oh dear.” The woman laughs and shakes her head.

“Pardon the language miss.”

“Miss? Young man, I’m likely older than your mother! And believe me these ears have heard far worse than that!” She laughs with Dan and gives him a £20 note. “Phil is going to be tickled pink when he sees how these turned out. You have a lovely day!”

Dan waves as she walks away, standing up to try and catch a glimpse of who she might be headed toward. It’s no use, the crowds are too dense. Phil though, his name is Phil. Dan eats his amusement park pizza outside in the hot sun in the hopes that Phil might walk by but it doesn’t happen. He’s probably gone home. He’d been Dan’s first customer of the day after all. And who in their right mind rides a rickety old Vampire themed rollercoaster three times in one day? Dan daydreams blue eyes and goofy smirks till his half hour was up.

After lunch, he’s on tit patrol so Dan plops down in the back of the kiosk with a giant slushee, trigger finger hovering over the F9 key. The system only gives you a few seconds to make a judgement and send the offender packing before the photo goes up on the big screen for the whole world to see. Any distraction could mean 4 seconds of scandal, angry parents and angrier middle management. More than once, Dan had let a notification on his phone take his attention and had let a middle finger slip by. Not today though, today his eyes are glued to the screen, hoping Phil will ride one more time. He’d see the photo go by and trade with one of the guys at the front and this time, he’d talk to him. He wouldn’t be too edgy to notice and he wouldn’t chicken out.

There were two bras flashed, one simulated blow job, and a whole coaster car full of naked bums, but no Phil. His two hours of tit patrol are up and he reluctantly relinquishes his post. Back on the front lines, he falls into his pattern and soon his shift is nearly up. When he finds himself without a customer in front of him for the first time in an hour, Dan sits up, stretching and rolling his neck. As if put there by the hand of fate, Phil walks past the kiosk. He’s chatting excitedly with a man that looks a lot like him and a gorgeous woman with fiery hair. His parents trail behind, holding hands.

Just as the group gets far enough away that Dan would look like a psycho for running after them or calling Phil’s name, Phil turns and looks right at Dan. He doesn’t stop, he just turns in place like a model on a catwalk. He doesn’t smile, just catches Dan’s eyes with own and goes on his way. Dan swallows and groans out loud, letting his head thunk down on the the counter.

Accustomed to Dan’s flair for the dramatic, his co-workers chuckle and ignore him. Dan pulls off his ugly green polo and begins to gather his stuff to go home.

“Shit! Shit.” Dan’s co-worker, Jack was on tit patrol and it sounds like he let something by. “Personal info. Fuck. Oh well. Who holds up their phone number on a roller coaster? It’s not even like a proposal or whatever.”

The big screen fills Dan’s vision and he bolts upright. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

Dan is jumping around and shouting to the disapproving looks of dozens of tourists and he couldn’t care less. Phil looks out at him from the big screen, a smirk better than the one Dan had imagined on his lips. He holds a sign that says, I hope you’re paying attention. And underneath that, a phone number.

Jack says, “Oh hello, he’s hot” and holds up his phone to capture the image. Another co-worker, Ellie, picks up a pen and starts to scribble down the number.

“Don’t you dare.” Dan snarls at Jack, pointing a finger menacingly. Jack lowers his phone and puts his hands up in surrender. Dan walks to Ellie and snatches the number from her hand.

She frowns, “How do you know it’s for you? It could be for any of us!”

“Oh, it’s for me.” Dan grins, his dimples digging in deep, “HE is for me.” He turns up his nose and spins on his heel for the most theatrical exit he can muster, then walks out of the kiosk to a chorus of giggles and grumbles.

Once he’s out of the park, he sits down on a bench at the edge of the parking lot and enters the number into his phone. He types in the name, Phil, bouncing in his seat like a giddy child after too much cotton candy. His hands shake as he types out a message, praying to no one that he hadn’t read that look wrong.

Hi Phil, It’s Dan from the Kiosk.

He hits send, his knee bouncing with nerves and as he’s returning the phone to his pocket, it vibrates.

Dan? You’re the one with the green hair, right?

Is he kidding? He must be kidding. He didn’t even talk to Jack. Another vibration. Dan holds his breath.

Dan? I’m kidding, of course! What follows is a string of emojis, a dinosaur, a warthog, some fireworks, and a cry laughing emoji. I know who you are. You’re the one with the chocolatey eyes and incredible dimples. Nice to meet you, Dan.

Dan exhales and a flutter moves through his belly, up past his heart, and down to his fingertips. Phil laid it on thick and it was working.

Nice to meet you too, Phil.

So Dan, I’ve got a pretty wild Friday night planned.

Oh yeah? Dan replies.

Yeah, it includes pizza, Ribena, and…

Dan breathes a laugh to himself and types, drumroll...

JURASSIC PARK!!!

Gasp! Pizza and Jeff Goldblum?!! I don’t know Phil, sounds intense. You’re easily frightened. You sure you can handle it?

Maybe if I had someone here to help me through it, someone strong and brave. You know anyone like that?

Yeah, but I think Jack’s busy tonight. Dan typed but stood and began his walk to the bus stop. He wasn’t wasting any more time.

I guess you’ll have to do then, Dan.

END

#phanfic #phanfiction #oneshot #fluff #phanfichallenge #myfic

80 notes · View notes