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batarella · 4 years ago

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3 birds 1 stone - chapter 13

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: Last chapter until the pre-finale!! I can’t believe we made it this far. This might be the series I’m most proud of! I love you guys so much. HAPPY NEW YEAR

WORDS: 10,448 WARNINGS: mentions of trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

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Tim:

Perhaps it wasn’t best that he asked her to come over, instead of it being the other way around. But what good were customs when it meant seeing that very smile he’d grown to work for tirelessly, the same when she’d be stricken with the best, most pleasant surprises? She did love surprises, as he’d learned to know. Whatever it was he’d give her, whatever the gift, her eyes shone just a bit brighter when she hadn’t expected what he brought her, whether it be just a cup of her favorite drink he’d stopped to get along the way or a client that wanted to pay her five times her usual price.

But maybe he should have at least sent for a car to pick her up, with his many drivers and a limo that would have made the trip more convenient, instead of having to hail for some stinky cab and go through the horrors of Gotham traffic, but he wanted nothing more than for this to catch her when she least expected it, never mind how it was on that very day itself, and how calling her this day asking to spend it together would have been a dead giveaway, but he’d prepared for that. He’d asked her to come over to the office more times over the past month for the most stupid reasons not even he would have come up with, but she never grew irritated. She just went with it, without much question, as if she truly did enjoy his company. Every day for the past week. Hopefully, today, she’d think nothing of it and that it was, in actuality, just like any other day.

He looked like a creep as well, looking over the large, glass window behind his desk. He fixed his suit, tightened the tie around his neck, and made sure his hair was combed over the back of his head. His hands turned for each other for some comfort, something to hold onto, when he watched every taxi that drove by hoping it was hers, hoping that it’d stop in front of the building and put an end to this torturous waiting. When was the last time they spent Valentine’s day together? Years, at least. Of course, this made him more nervous than when he had to face a whole conference room full of people, if they even were to be called that, from the likes of Lex Luthor and Maxwell Lord and even Roman Sionis. That didn’t even do so much as raise a hair at the back of his neck.

This, on the other hand, made his hands shake so much, his palms sweaty and uneasy.

Tim looked out the window and he didn’t even give his work a glance of attention until he saw that cab, which he knew just had to be hers, that stopped right in front of the building’s entrance.

Y/N walked out of the car, and the wind decided to be nice to her and her hair, her flowy blouse, her pants that flared to her feet, and her graceful demeanor.

Tim loosened his tie. It had gone too tight. And he never allowed himself a second away from watching her look around the street, at the people that were nothing more than ants to him at that point when all he could look at was her, and he didn’t even have a lot of time to enjoy that view when Y/N walked into the building and disappeared. That’s when Tim realized he had his hands pressed up against the glass window trying to look past the corners just to have her in his sight.

A few minutes after, there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Wayne, Ms. L/N is here to see you.”

His throat had clogged up and he had to take a few seconds just to clear it. “O-of course. Bring her in.”

His secretary shut the door, and he tidied himself as if he hadn’t already done enough of that the whole morning. Did he look too groomed? Would that give it away?

Too late. She was here. Even more beautiful up close, as she often is. He quickly took his seat and pretended to be so invested in whatever tab was open on his laptop, which was nothing more than the Google homepage.

“Mornin’, Drake.”

“Morning, L/N.”

He sounded casual enough, didn’t even look up from the screen to greet her, but when she walked closer to where he was sitting, not even a Kryptonian would have the strength not to look up and get lost in this seemingly infinite depth of a gaze.

Tim almost jumped out of his seat when Y/N leaned over to kiss his cheek, then she pressed her back against his table to rest. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N,” he sighed, then he relaxed and sat back against his chair. Idiot must have been smiling his face muscles off.

“Are you really gonna spend the day strapped to your desk?”

“It’s not like it’s Christmas.”

“And are you absolutely sure everyone in this building is as bitter as you?”

“Offices don’t celebrate Valentine’s.”

“You could have at least pasted cut-out hearts over at the hallway.”

He snorted. “Cut-out hearts?”

“Doesn’t match the boring gray?”

Tim playfully rocked her leg over to her side. “No. It doesn’t.”

She stood up from his desk, went over to the window to watch the streets, and Tim could look at her from the reflection of his laptop screen.

“So this is all you got planned for yourself today?”

“Pretty much,” he lied.

“You’re lucky you have me then,” she said. “Sorry I was late. I sent three commissions over to my clients so I won't have to work all day.”

“What were they?”

“Gifts. As usual. For their spouses.”

“Good for you.”

11:30 AM. Should be the right time now. Fuck, what did he just spend the whole morning rehearsing over and over again?

“Fine. Y/N. You got me.”

“I got you?”

Shit. Reverse. Reverse.

“I, uh, meant maybe I should take a breather. Just for today. Wanna go up to the balcony? I have one of your sketchbooks you left. We can spend a few minutes up there.”

She shrugged. Yes. “Sure.”

He pretended to spend just a few more minutes on his laptop, then he stood from his desk. She smiled at him and right then he knew she wasn’t expecting anything at all.

Oh, man. Oh, man. The veins in his neck should have popped out bleeding by now. Even the ride up the elevator felt too tight, tight, whatever the hell that meant. He just knew it was true, like some unknowable force had their hands all over his throat and there was no easing it until this whole thing blows over, which he definitely didn’t want to happen so soon. Even when he knew the longer this lasted, the more chance of him screwing up, even when this shook every core and nerve in him so much he had to be so cautious of everything he said and did, he wanted to drag this on so it lasted for so long as he was awake.

When the elevator doors parted, he couldn’t bring himself not to hold her hand, as he often couldn’t, and she welcomed it so naturally, too naturally, the kind of comfort that was none he could find in another. They walked down the halls, and when they reached the end of it, he held his breath.

He let her open the door, still holding her one hand, and when she did, he couldn’t miss a detail on her face even if he tried. The soft smile that immediately dropped, her mouth parting without her knowing, her eyes so wide they were wonderous and unreal, and the light that touched her face, the light he’d strategically placed just for that consequence, it made all else stop the way he knew it would.

He prepared for it all night, told her it was all for work when really, he wouldn’t trust any of his employees to do it the way he specifically wanted it to be. And it had to be perfect.

It would have been a lot better at dusk when the sun would have set so perfectly on the horizon before them, but that noontime light didn’t exactly do much to diminish its beauty. It was simple, really, with it just being one small table set at the center, two chairs laced with white and red cloth, flower petals on its surface, trays of food waiting for them on opposite ends. And outside of it, four poles on four different corners, with a vine of roses suspended from each end, forming a square that housed their space much like a little escape from all else around them, even the winds and the rushing sounds were to no effect. It was peace, beauty, and it was all so simple but it was that simplicity that made it so breathtaking.

At least, from what he could see out of her, it did take her breath away.

She let go of his hand and stepped under that archway, head up so one of the petals would fall onto her nose. He wanted to remember this picture of her until the end of time.

She whispered. “You did this?”

Tim’s head was bashfully held down, he couldn’t bring himself to be so smug when he should be proud of all this, but he kept his hands deep into his suit pockets, and still that itch in his throat no amount of tie loosening would fix wasn’t much he could ignore, but none of that mattered. All he could stare at was her, and that smile, that same when he catches her off guard of the many surprises he’s given her, it will forever make his day for every day he was awake. Because one day, the start of many days, this one might be all he’ll have.

Every day might be the day she makes her choice, and when she does, he’ll never have this again. He’ll never have her again, and be able to just call her into his office or visit her at home without it bearing so much more meaning than it should. And as much as it broke his heart, he distracted himself with his own efforts. He had to make this count. And perhaps, it already did.

He wanted to kiss her, right then, in the middle of her marveling over the tables and the flowers and everything. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

But he could hold her hand. He went up to her and took both of them, and the way she welcomed them was incomparable.

And the way she looked at him, even more so.

“Is this alright with you?”

She smiled so brightly. Nothing has ever felt warmer. “Alright?”

“It’s not weird?” He held her hands tighter. “Or uncomfortable?”

“Tim, this is…”

She looked at the flowers, the table, the view that was just made for them, just for that moment. “This is everything…”

“Good. I was nervous.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not. I am.”

The way she swayed their arms together like nothing could ever pull them apart, not the sun’s hot rays nor the winds that wanted them to part, she was right. He couldn’t remember what he was so nervous about.

“You know you never have to be afraid of anything with me.”

“I know.”

Y/N had on the kind of smile that would have cured the Black Plague, as it cured every bit of doubt and darkness that had been left over in him that he didn’t even think to fix himself. Tim couldn’t fight it, even when he probably should, but he brought her hands up to his lips, and that smile grew even brighter. He wanted to whine when she let go of his fingers only to lean in even more when she had them holding the sides of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He wanted to kiss her, again, but it wasn’t as if the warmth of her embrace was any worse. In fact, it grounded him.

Nothing he could ever think to accomplish could haul him up to the top of the world, no well-doings well enough that would make him soar to such great heights, as much as having her so close to him that he could feel her hair within his fingers, face to his shoulder. And he’d give up everything, the whole company even, if it meant having this kind of contentment for every day he was alive.

He didn’t let his mind trail off to even more buts and what-ifs. He just took this moment for the whole of what it was. And it was perfect. He didn’t even have to try. She was there. He was there. Tim could have this day and make it last for as long as he wanted it to, even when it wasn’t possible.

“So,” she loosened her hold around him and went over to the table, arm around his waist. “What do you have for me?”

“Pasta. Roast beef. And whatever side dish you want.”

He took the two lids off their plates and her face lit up even more as if it were possible.

“You’re a saint.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled her seat for her to take, and he sat down across from her. Even if she weren’t prepared, still she looked so radiant and perfect, and not even the flowers could grow into such bloom, going against the lights like she were a reflection from every bit of serenity there was to be seen, a mirror to the world.

He had to stop staring. He was starving.

Tim poured her a glass, then they clinked their glasses together at the brim.

“You know,” she took a sip. “I don’t remember you doing anything like this when we were together.”

He started slicing his beef, but he knew he was in for a whole day barely getting a bite out of their plate. “Come on. I wasn’t that bad.”

“I didn’t say you were. Just that it wasn’t anything like this at all.” She held her hands holding her knife and fork up to point at the flowers. “And it’s highly unlike you.”

He shrugged. “You welcome to change?”

“Oh, I do.”

He wanted so badly to reach for her hand over the table. “So what did I do for you all those years ago?”

“Mmm,” she chewed on her pasta and swallowed. “Let’s see. We were together for two years, but we made it through three Valentine’s days.”

“The first one?”

“The first one you took me to the zoo.”

“Ah.”

“We spent the whole day there. And in the petting area, you almost got mauled by a kangaroo.”

“Kangaroos are assholes.”

She laughed and took a bite out from her fork. Her hair fell to the side of her cheek. He resisted pulling it behind her ear.

“I loved that day,” she sighed, eyes on her plate. “It was my first Valentine’s day with someone else.”

“Mine, too.”

She twirled her fork around her pasta. “I remember it started to rain, and you gave me your jacket even when I told you it wasn’t cold. It was our first month together.”

“I was nervous.”

Her smile grew wider.

“Then we spent almost an hour under that shed. It rained pretty hard, but we didn’t even care. We just sat there and waited until it stopped, and after that, we kept walking around even with our shoes wet.”

He could think about that day until it grows dark. They were still so young, yet he never could say he was any less in love with her now, maybe even more.

Tim swallowed.

“The second year was that time we went to New York.”

She sighed as if looking back to a time so light and free, which it certainly was. The amount of begging he had to go through with Bruce. It was immaculate. Just to have a day in New York, to an art gallery that went on that didn’t often happen in Gotham, and so many other places after that.

“Not gonna lie, you surprised me with that.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. And compared to the results it yielded, it really was. “New York always has been so romantic.”

“I loved it. So much.”

He drank half his glass just to ease that pain that eventually faded away, and it was easier when he had her to look at.

It was nothing more than a few seconds, maybe even less than that, but when Y/N pulled a strand of her hair behind her back, pulled it up so no longer would it frame her face and instead, expose her skin and the radiance of her cheeks, her eyes now shown under so much light, the amount it truly deserves so not a speck of it wouldn’t be shown, Tim almost dropped his knife on the ceramic plate, and that would have stopped her tracks. But, thankfully, he didn’t, and he got to watch her fix her hair, eyes down on her food, and when she looked up, her smile completely destroyed him.

Fuck everything. He can't hold back from this.

“You look beautiful.”

So many times, he’s said that, but never enough. Never as often as it was true. Because if he were to say it as often as he’d like to, he’d say it every hour of every day. He’d say it when she was fresh out of bed, a bed they’ve slept in together and her skin would be dry and itchy, hair messed up in all places. He’d say it in the middle of a conversation and it would be so out of nothing that it would surprise even her, perhaps make it weird even when it never was when it came to her. He’d say it to her in a million circumstances a million times, and not one of them would be from a lie.

She reacted the same way she always does, with a bashful grin, soft, proud, but not smug about it, and with her head down as she’d instinctively look at her feet. Y/N coughed. “Thank you.”

Maybe it had been too much.

But what was so wrong about telling someone so beautiful that they were just that, other than to make the world an even more wonderful place with the smile it would cause?

“Uh,” she gulped. “The third year.”

“Right.” He forced his attention back on his plate. “The helicopter ride.”

“Yeah…”

That Valentine’s day was just three weeks before he’d break it off, which was why it wasn’t often what they talk about, even when it was all the more something to remember.

“That day was…” she smiled looking down at the table like it was anything to smile about. “That day was something else.”

“It was…”

He wasn’t in the best place that day.

He didn’t know how many calls of hers he hadn’t returned because of work, because of Bruce and his place in the company they had to cover up and explain after his disappearance. There was so much to do, and every day the work just never seemed to end, and there won't be an end for a long time.

But that day, he remembered, he told himself he would have that day just for her, even when it hurt the company and possibly lose them a few thousand just for leaving the building. But he forced himself not to care, told himself she deserved this so much more than he had.

A few hours with their helicopter going a few rounds around Gotham, with her in his hands strapped to their seats, looking out their windows much like they used to, at the top of the world. Just how they’re meant to be.

The last day, in fact, that was the happiest in their relationship that still could have been salvaged if he was strong enough.

Like a shard lodged up his throat, he didn’t know if it was something he should be asking. Yet, he did.

“We could do that again sometime. Whenever you're free. If you want.”

Whenever she’s free. When he still could. When she still hadn’t chosen someone else and forever change what they have, which he’ll ultimately accept for so long as it’s what she truly wants.

“I would love that.”

“Great,” he smiled. “It’s a lot easier now. Since I have, you know, my own helicopter.”

She snorted.

The smile she had on, the longing in her eyes, the sheer appreciation she showed just to have him for herself that one day out of many when she didn’t, it haunted him for years. It haunts him until now.

When he looked up from his plate, he thought he’d catch her wiping a tear, or frowning at him for bringing up such a memory.

Still, with the softness that glowed, she smiled, because as Tim should as well, she appreciated every bit of time she had with him no matter what surrounded them, no matter the history of hurt and whatever happened next. She didn’t see it as a day to dread or a day to despise. She saw it as a day to look back to when she wanted to remember what it was like to be content.

So suddenly, it was what he felt, too.

Y/N looked up at him, caught his eyes, but she didn’t say anything. He didn’t have anything to say either. But they locked eyes longer than any two normal friends should, with that subtle burning in his chest that wasn’t something to physically feel, yet still know that the flames went on, scorching his flesh. Her eyes were longing, knowing, and he looked back at her wanting so badly to take her hand.

Who were they kidding, calling themselves best friends for so many years, when in fact they were two people who used to be so in love and definitely still are? Two exes who couldn’t move on, two halves of a relationship that had the strength to last forever but didn’t.

And it still possibly could, if it’s what makes her happy. It might.

All those years, they weren’t best friends. They were two people holding onto what they used to have in a form of another, masking it over with another type of bond when they just wanted each other’s presence the way it used to be, even when it couldn’t.

Tim didn’t take her hand, and it added one to the many regrets that’ll continue to despise himself for.

They spent the whole of the afternoon that day up on that balcony, and he didn’t even care if there were mounds of work to be done just waiting for him at his table. And when the sun started to set, when he realized that time was tapping onto his shoulder telling him that there was, in fact, an end to this day, he never thought he’d accepted it the way he did.

Outside the elevator doors on the floor of his office, it took a while for them to wait.

But that while was all he had.

He had to make it count.

Once again, possibly for the last time, Tim took both her hands and looked into her eyes like he was purposefully trying to get lost.

“Y/N…”

It was in his bag. He held off too long. He should have given it at the balcony while he still could, while he still had even more time to watch how she’d react instead of going out the coward’s way and hide behind what he thought to have been safe, even when it clearly wouldn’t be worth missing out. The elevator was coming up to their floor.

“I have something for you…”

She didn’t look surprised, but was skeptical, though that wasn’t what he was trying to do anymore.

He took a mustard-colored sketchbook from the sling bag over his shoulder. She looked confused when he handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

He just shrugged. Her eyes were so soft and yet so enticing it burned him in the chest.

Y/N opened the first page of the sketchbook and he saw her visibly catch her breath. For the second time that day, she couldn’t speak.

“I know I’m not usually there with you when you paint and draw…” He gulped. “But I thought, if I learned how to draw myself, even when I’m not so good at it, I’ll be a lot closer to you. We’d have one more thing in common.”

His drawings.

Most of them were of her, her face, her lying on the couch, painting on an easel, smiling at the flowers, or of them both with their arms around each other. Some of her favorite flowers, her favorite spots at the manor, scenes from her favorite movies, her favorite skyscrapers around the city.

Everything was about her, everything he could ever draw was about her, because, as he’d realized, he never could draw anything if it wasn’t.

She was his muse, just as he had been hers for a time.

He had his time with her, and even with the chance that that’s all that it will eventually be, his time with her, he’d grown to appreciate it more than if there wasn’t a time at all, just to ease the pain.

“Tim…” she choked.

Her embrace was that peace he will forever miss, and without wasting so much time he pushed his face into her shoulder so he could take in every bit of her depth, every bit of her scent, her form. She was here. She was here.

“Thank you so much…”

“You don’t have to thank me…”

“I do...” she breathed. He couldn’t even look at her face. “I do…”

This wasn’t nearly enough time for him to be with her. Nothing could be enough time when it comes to her. How could this day, as something he didn’t always come to appreciate, pass by so quickly, quicker than a rabbit’s thump of its foot, and without anything he could do about it?

Nothing, nothing else in his whole life, will be a bigger mistake than when he left. Now, he pays the price. This might be the last day he gets to hold her like this.

“Y/N…”

He loosened his embrace just to hold her cheeks, and she returned that hold by grabbing onto his wrists.

“Whatever you choose to do, promise me I’ll still be your best friend…”

She laughed through the tears, which he wiped off with his thumb. “That’s the most stupid thing you’ve ever said. Of course, I will.”

He laughed as well. Or pretended to. He wanted so much to cry.

‘No. You don’t understand. You won't want me this way any longer. Everything is going to change.’

‘But I’ll accept it. For you. It will all be worth it.’

‘Choose me, so you won't have to promise me this.’

But he didn’t say any of that. He didn’t have to.

He just held her tight, foreheads touching like a lifeline’s hold.

It was a lie telling themselves they were best friends all those years.

But it won't be from now on. They’ll be best friends, whether she chooses him or not, and he’ll hold onto that if it meant everything to her.

“I promise you. I’ll still be here, even if you don’t need me.”

“And I’ll be here for you.”

To just lean in and kiss her. It would have all been too easy.

But the elevator doors parted open, and with it, the end of his time.

He’ll accept this.

He accepted this.

He has to.

And frankly, with the smile she had on the whole day, he’d wish for nothing more than for it to last, even when it meant it wasn’t with him.

He kissed the tip of her forehead, just as she loosened her hold, and with their fingers lingering as they held onto each other’s warmth, he stepped into the elevator and their hands let go of the other.

She waved him goodbye, and just as the doors closed, he waved back.

-----

Dick:

It wasn’t the best idea he’s had.

But he wasn’t at his prime either, and neither should he even be in his prime. He shouldn’t, for all good cause, do anything that could possibly take this out of hand, far beyond what should be thought of as normal. Because as he’s sought out to remember, and remind himself for so many days and weeks and months, their friendship was what he should put before anything else.

And thus, he cannot possibly screw this up. It might be a tad more romantic than it should, but it was Valentine’s day. Of course, he was expected to be romantic at the very least, as everyone else should.

He just didn’t expect his hand to be shaking so much when he raised it against the door of her apartment to knock. He held his wrist, forced the tremors to stop before it’d possibly show. Would it even show? Would the knocking be any different if his knuckles weren’t stable?

It wouldn’t, actually, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful either.

He forced his spine straight, head held up as he shut his eyes closed hopefully to ease what was dreadfully whirring about in just about every nerve cell in his body, then he breathed.

Just before his fist hit the door, he heard her voice.

“Thanks!” Y/N called out to the cab driver, then she stepped out of the car door and immediately caught her smile. It was nighttime, the sun had just set, still, she looked as bright as day. And perfect. And beautiful.

Dick stopped shaking. He stopped moving altogether.

“Dick?” She stepped over the puddle and he immediately regretted not rushing to help her. But she didn’t seem to mind. “What are you doing here?”

He took the steps down until his feet reached the sidewalk, then she was in front of him. Oblivious. Unknowing. Happy. She was grinning so much it took every bit of breath leftover in his lungs until eventually, he’d die from suffocation without there being a physical stimulant.

Dick swallowed.

“I thought I’d… visit you. On Valentine’s day. I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Bold of him to assume she would be, of course. Judging from how she looked, where that cab came from, she was with Tim.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have. You just got home. I should be on my way-“

“No! Not at all!” She grabbed him by the jacket and he prayed to the angels above she didn’t catch how he almost choked on his own tongue. “I could use the company. Wanna stay over?”

Okay. Okay. That would be okay.

But it wasn’t what he had planned for them. At least, he could try to ask. If it was okay with her.

“I,” he started. “Actually, I had something planned for us. Tonight. If it’s alright with you, we can head out now.”

She stood there with her mouth open.

“Or not. I should have called.” Rubbing the back of his neck wouldn’t do much to ease that strain. “I’m sorry. We can-“

“No! Dick, please.” She grabbed onto his arm and led him to his car, which he’d parked over at another block. “I’d love to go with you. Take me anywhere. I promise, I’ll love it.”

He wasn’t even sure if he’d already messed up at that point and that was just her trying to salvage his own dignity or if he hadn’t done anything at all. But her smile seemed genuine. He’d know if it wasn’t.

It warmed every bit of him when they continued to walk, and he was just letting her lead the way, take him like he was made of sand stuffed into a bag or a sack. He was limp, weak. And he couldn’t have had it in another way.

Dick laughed. “Alright then.”

So lightly did it start to drizzle, and the droplets visible on their light sweaters and clothes that tickled their skin like a feather’s cold touch. He didn’t know where to start, even though, in fact, he knew exactly where to start. Is this all going to backfire?

No. It won't. Not this time. He knew what to expect, and nothing will be out of hand and nothing will have to set him back two spaces backward.

Through the sidewalks full and the lively streets, with others hand in hand with their partners and gifts being given, surprises being held and smiles and cheers for all around, it was difficult not to feel bitter being the only one who wasn’t holding a spouse or a partner.

But even if she weren’t his, she was still the woman he loved. And the fact that she was here at all, holding his arm as they turned over to the corner of the street for his car, he was the luckiest out of everyone in the block, in the whole mile’s radius. Hell, the whole city.

They got to his car and already he missed her when she let go of his arm and he stepped into the driver’s seat.

Traffic was bad, but it didn’t even matter. She was looking so brightly out the windshield, at the edge of her seat and wonderfully appreciating all else around her. It was hard not to feel the same, to be so excited for life, and even when the world had tried to pull all of her spirits down, she didn’t let it.

And he could admire all else there was if he had more time than he already had, and he had lots of time. He won't let a minute go to waste. He already had the food, the mat, the movie, everything was at the back of his car.

Thankfully, that dark, secluded spot that wasn’t exactly a hotspot for muggers in the corners of Gotham Central Plaza was still free. He had to hold back a yelp as they parked. It was perfect. Too perfect. Any sane man would suspect there possibly was something more in store than he would have hoped. But that didn’t even cross his mind.

“Alright,” he turned his car key to turn off the engine. “Close your eyes and promise me you won't open them until I say so.”

“Dick.” She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Come on. Close your eyes. Please.”

Rolling her eyes over to the other side of the window, he wanted to playfully pinch her chin. But she did as told, closed her eyes, and laid her head to the back of the car seat. He had to move fast.

He went over to the back, took everything out of the trunk, and never has he worked so fast yet so cautiously, even compared to his stealth work in the middle of a raid.

He laid out the mat and dusted the ground off of any critters that might have been littered about. He took too much time at that. A few minutes at least. He looked back at the side mirror on the passenger seat.

“I said don’t look!”

He heard her laugh so hard she had to snort, then she covered her eyes with her palms.

Okay. This should be okay. She’ll love this. He hoped. He laid out the finishing touches and turned on the projector.

He knocked on her window, then she stepped out. He put his hands on top of her eyes, as cheesy as it was, then led her over to the back. “Where are you taking me, Grayson?”

“Just trust me.”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t. But you don’t exactly have a choice.”

She snorted again, then when he stopped her in place, he walked over in front of her. “Okay. Now.”

Y/N opened her eyes.

Dick wished he had a camera to remember her face by.

Always the one to appreciate the little things, the details, every bit of effort. That night, it was no different.

The first thing she turned to was the quaint little picnic he’d set up, with a red and white plaid at laid out on the grassy floor, two cushions for them to sit on, and a basket full of their food, some of which he’d already placed in plates around the mat.

In front of that mat was the trunk of the car, on top of which he’d placed a white sheet over to cover the back, making it a flat surface where the projector, that he’d placed over behind the mat, would shine on. It played the first scene of the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.

And the final piece he hadn’t thought about until the last minute, were fairy lights in two separate strings, running from the back of the car over to the tree that stood right by the picnic mat, where it would shine for all of that night.

Dick wished it were daylight, just so he could see her a bit clearer, but he was thankful for the string lights he placed, or he wouldn’t see just how much her face lit up and her eyes widen beyond what he’d often remember.

“Dick-“

“Not like what I usually give you on Valentine’s?”

Y/N’s smile softened, and she just looked at him disbelievingly.

“I’m kidding. Come on. Food’s getting cold.”

His hands were shaking but thankfully they didn’t show. And he held it out for her to take one of the cushions. She sat down, but her neck was going to hurt soon at the way she was craning it up, mesmerized over everythin he’d set up.

“This is amazing.”

“Wait ‘till you see the movie. Again, that is. For the fifth time.”

“You know exactly how to please me.”

He does.

In every way, if only he could, he would. He’d give her everything she wants, even if it were a flower on top of a cliff.

And if only there weren’t anyone else out there who loved her just as much as he did, then the only thing that would stop him was if he’d die trying to bend the world over for her. Because then he wouldn’t be there to make sure she doesn’t prick her finger on a needle when she’ll be too old to clearly see, or that she doesn’t slip on the floor when her bones grow too weak, or when she needed someone to pick out the grey in her hair when she no longer could with her shaking hands. When they grow old, and he won't be there to make sure she’ll be okay, it’ll be the only thing that stops him.

But that wasn’t the case. There was someone out there who loved her just as much as he did. Two, in fact.

Which meant that nothing, not even his death, is going to stop him from doing whatever it took to give her what she wanted and needed. Because, even then, he was sure she’ll be okay if he was gone.

He wished he didn’t trust those two enough for it to be true, but he did.

The movie went on. Heath Ledger. Julia Stiles. The dialogue over the two’s arguments that he’s learned to memorize over the many times he’s watched it with her. He didn’t even pay much attention, not when the light from the projected screen lit up her curving lips. She didn’t even look tired.

They bit into their sandwiches and he inched himself closer to her.

“What do you like most about this movie?”

Slowly, she turned her head over to him, still with her eyes on the screen like she didn’t even want to miss a minute of it.

“I like how you’d first think it’d be centered on Bianca and the two guys, but then you’d realize the story is really about Patrick and Kat. And the fact that it’s accidental, which ends up being the better romance out of everyone else.”

He finished his sandwich, and he didn’t even pick out another. He listened as if she spoke music. Nothing felt better than that moment right then.

Except, maybe, when she leaned on his shoulder, and he realized he'd never actually felt like he’s sunken so deep into a place he could never think about escaping from, a place he dreaded himself for even thinking about escaping at all, never mind how much more pain it yields and the risks to be taken.

She shifted and he could feel her hair rub itself into a tangled mess onto his shirt. And his selfishness overtook him when he leaned his head on top of hers as well and closed his eyes.

It was a shame, truly, that movies had to end at all. If he’d known, he would have played The Ten Commandments or Cleopatra or any other movie there was that lasted five hours. He would if he had to if it meant she’d stay longer that way.

It was so magical that when he’d tidied up the place and they both got back into the car, he almost forgot his actual gift for the night.

Something he wasn’t so sure about at first. Though, if it worked, it would undoubtedly mean everything.

He shut the car door, and Y/N didn’t know that when Dick looked up the windshield, up at the cloudless sky, that he was actually checking for any signs of heavy rain. Which there was, but thankfully won't be for a few hours.

“So,” she cheerfully exclaimed. It was almost midnight, and still, she didn’t seem the least bit tired. “Are you taking me home?”

“Not yet…”

It will be worth it if it works.

Just do it.

“Y/N…” he said. “Remember that time you told me you wanted to fly again?”

Y/N, as she’d expectedly reacted, looked out her window. “Yeah?”

“I have… something planned for you. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand-“

When she turned to catch his eyes reassuring him that everything he was mumbling about could only make her smile, immediately he calmed. “What are you saying?”

“It’s in the back. Hold on-“

He moved in less than five seconds, heading over to the back seat, fumbling through his bags, then he sat back down on the driver’s.

“Here.”

He handed a bag to her, and she looked at it confused. She won't be for long.

And that theory was proven true when she unzipped the bag and saw, what was most probably facing up inside the bag, her Falcon domino mask.

Two years ago, she lost her left leg.

And with that, her wings.

She couldn’t fly for a lot of reasons. One, with her being the Falcon, nightly crime-fighting wouldn’t do her any good. The nerve endings on the one leg she had left had been burnt off, and the bionic one couldn’t even move much without it straining and pulling just about every muscle she had. It broke her heart, as if it hadn’t already broken so much of her, that she couldn’t even walk the same way as before.

The other reasons were a lot more complicated, but all the more understandable. The nightmares, traumas, everything else, it would have driven her mad if she hadn’t stopped.

She couldn’t fly anymore. At least, not by herself.

He could help her fly again.

Y/N pulled out her suit, turned, and saw Dick putting on his Nightwing gear.

“We have the whole night,” he said. “If you let me.”’

It was a risk. A dangerous one.

Which made it even more rewarding when he earned a smile from her so wide that it brought tears down her outstretched cheeks.

Yeah.

This was the right choice.

A bag of art supplies would have been plan B. Thank god, he didn’t go through with that again.

Her real Falcon suit was put on display back over at her apartment, behind a hidden door in her closet she hadn’t touched for years. This one was just a black slip-on that covered most of her skin, a hood over her head, and her domino mask. Dick took her up Queen Industries, a tower that soared up the skies rivaled only by the likes of Wayne Enterprises. She picked that tower as if none of this scared her at the very least. Even when it should. Hell, it even scared him.

This won't nearly be as freeing as her wings when she’d soar through the skies and clouds without the confines of a grappling rope tying her down to the realities of human capacity, when she truly could feel like a falcon, the one thing she loved so much about her days as a vigilante.

She was nervous, he could tell. She hadn’t jumped off a building in so long, even when she loved risking her life just about every night just for the feel of it.

But this was a scene he’d longed to see, to have her in his arms on the rooftops of skyscrapers and have her to hold on to, to hear her screams of joyous bliss not just from a safe distance away, and to only have her to himself. No one else.

This was what Tim had back then that he never did, and never will have. Perhaps, except now. It wasn’t the same. But it was all the more beautiful.

She was beautiful, up the starless sky so near to the clouds where the air was thin, the bustling noise nothing more than a distant blur, and her face lit up by the many specks of light littered about this wondrous city.

He saw her clench her fists the way she did when she was excited. Dick took it as a chance to hold it. And she welcomed him like it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.

“Ready?”

From thin air, he could make out the smoke she blew out of her chapped lips, which curved up a smile as she glanced up to his eyes, then back down on the streets that awaited them below.

“Yes…”

He didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he held it tighter.

“Jump…”

Like she didn’t even wait for his mark.

Dick has soared off buildings more times than any bird has leaped off their nests, more times than a cat has jumped off a rooftop’s ledge. Every night since he was given his first grappling gun, the rushing wind that pushes onto his face would be the most addicting experience not everyone would know about. He knew what it was like, how close it was to flying.

But he never could call it flying, never truly felt like he had wings on his own. More like barring what the winds allowed him and glide like some limp piece of paper floating about to the wind’s direction. He always thought flying was defying those rules, defying how the earth pulls them down to where humans truly belonged. On the ground.

But flying was so much more than that. And he only realized that now, now that he was with her.

He might as well be in a bubble floating across space because never has he once experienced this kind of high in his life. and it wasn’t the wind or the heights or the risks it bore. It was her.

She made him fly.

The Falcon was never known to be a great fighter. At least, within the family, everyone knew combat wasn’t her forte.

But she did love to save people.

That was what made their dynamic with Tim so perfect. Tim handled the bad guys, roughed them up, used his brute strength to take them down, all the while distracting them from Y/N saving the hostages, from a small child kidnapped to the commissioner himself.

She was an alright gymnast, and most of the time she used it to her advantage. But she wasn’t the best.

She was never the best gymnast, never the best fighter. Everyone knew that before, and only fully realized that when it was too late.

But she was, as everyone in Gotham could plead, the best savior.

She’d save everyone in the scene and wouldn’t miss so much as a cat from a burning building, make sure everyone makes it out alive from a hostage situation, and every kidnapping in Gotham could be tracked from her computer network at home. The people were her priority. And with the loss of the Falcon, the loss of her wings, with it came the loss of a savior.

At least, it should have meant the loss of a savior.

But who was to say she hadn’t stopped saving lives? Doing what she did best? Making sure every life was accounted for and saved, even for just a little girl in a burn unit?

This was flying, and it could only be with her. She saved him. And she’ll continue to save him no matter what she chooses to do, or who she chooses to have.

He heard her delightful cries, and he could thank himself later for having it in him to take a glance, take in how she looked right then, and remember it for every time he needs more saving. Her arms were up, flailing about with the air’s upward push. She could only look everywhere else but at the ground. And with the kind of beam she had on, it was apparent she hadn’t smiled like that in so long.

Yards above the floor, he took her by the waist.

Then he shot his grapple up to the building across, and she held on with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go. Forever.

She didn’t.

They shot up to the next building but he didn’t allow them to land on the roof just yet.

With an arm around her waist, the other holding both their weights as if it were nothing at all, it wasn’t him who was carrying her, holding her up to fly. It was none but the other way around.

Dick shot his grappling hook even more times, each time just before they were about to reach up a ledge. Y/N didn’t have her eyes closed for a second. He could feel her. He could feel her take in the air and the rush and everything she’s longed to miss. Everything there ever could be that used to mean so much.

It was the same music that played at the back of his ears from when they kissed up on that hill. This soft, serene piano playing without a tune he could point out but couldn’t get out of his head, that same melody so beautiful that as soft as it was, blocked out everything else within a mile’s reach.

He allowed them to reach a dome-shaped roof, and he reached down to carry her legs as well so she wouldn’t have to run or suffer the impact. Like she was made of glass, he carried her, ran across the rooftop.

She pressed her forehead tight against his cheek, and on his jaw, Dick could feel her smile. It urged him on. He leaped off that rooftop and shot up his grapple again.

Her laughter could have been heard from everyone below, and her eyes couldn’t leave the wonders that surrounded them, at the concrete jungles, the choppers in place of the birds, the beautiful noises it made from people and everything else.

Close to where they started, Dick carried her like he would if she were his bride, cradled her in his arms as he landed on a rooftop, and finally stopped. Her nerves were buzzing. It was all he could feel. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were so wide. Her hands were in tremors uncontrollable.

But she laughed so hard and never has he heard that kind of laughter out of her from anyone else. The kind of laughter he’d grown so addicted to, that he couldn’t stop but draw it out of her every chance he got.

Then she hugged him so tight, so quickly did his own nerves calm. She was so warm, he couldn’t help but feel grounded.

This.

This was what it was like to see her up close.

Years of watching, to see her soar and not be there to hold her hand as he flies with her, to see her kiss another’s lips while they stood at the literal top of the world, at a skyscraper so tall with the world under their feet, on the most gorgeous city there was, with the bustling streets and the nosy citizens and the lights that continued endlessly.

To see her this close, to be with her, and actually be with her. To have their two souls put together and have that kind of high that couldn’t possibly be gotten from another.

If Y/N chooses him, he’ll make her fly every day. He’ll never let her forget being the flying guardian angel of Gotham. He’ll never let that image of the city taken from up above the cloudy mists be rid from her mind.

And if she doesn’t choose him, he’ll make sure that whoever it was that was going to be her eternal happiness, knows all those things and more, knows how much flying meant to her. He’ll make sure they’ll take his word to heart, so he never has to doubt her contentment again.

Y/N held him in an embrace so close, the smell of her lemony scalp and her arms so perfectly warm, he held her back immediately and shut his eyes so he’d only know the feeling.

“Thank you for giving me my wings back.”

It wasn’t even about her choosing him anymore. It wouldn’t change a thing.

Whatever happens, he’ll be there making sure she’ll go on to fly, that she never forgets the rush of the wind or the mist of the clouds.

Already, he was used to that feeling, of watching her from such distance, that it won’t be such a change if it happens again. She’ll find her happiness. She’ll choose her happiness. And all the while, he’ll be there to make sure she’ll have that and more.

No longer does he hope that she chooses him, as he selfishly longed for after so many years.

He was happy. He was content. Whatever comes out of this, it’ll be for her happiness.

And that’s all there is to it.

-----

Jason:

God Almighty, this was stupid.

And he should have known that hours ago. Three hours up on that fire exit, not once did he think this through enough to escape, as he hadn’t thought since the start of the day and he just happened to pass by the many flower shops suddenly rising out of nowhere down the street where he lived.

It was three am and still, she hadn’t come home. And all those hours, instead of finally knowing the risks of all this and back up before it was too late, he impatiently waited for her, booted soles tapping onto the ground, thinking ‘where the hell is she?’ as if he had no idea at all. He did have an idea. He just didn’t think to dwell on it.

Seeing Dick’s car pull up in front of her door, he only had such a window. Everything in him shattered. His head so light. Everything so hopelessly weak. To just flee and never come back, it would all have been so easy.

But as he selfishly allowed himself that kind of hope, as no one in their right mind should if they were anywhere near his place, he stayed. Because even in the middle of such darkness from whence he’d come from, from whence he was born into this disaster of a life, he let himself, albeit unconsciously, hold onto the fact that she still hadn’t chosen either of his brothers and with that, she might choose him, like he had such a speck of a chance, one too much than what he should have.

And it was because of that selfishness, that grandeur delusion of hope proven to be such a luxury for someone from the likes of him, that brought him to this exact place on this exact night.

And seeing that she’d just spent this hell of a day with his brothers, each one with a present for her grander than the last, what he’d done was some sorry excuse of a joke even he wanted to laugh at. This was ridiculous. And humiliating.

But it was far too late, with him standing so frozen with his hood up and the rainfall stronger, he let his clothes be drenched, didn’t care for the cold, not when all he could see was her stepping into her studio and taking off her coat. She had on a smile like no other.

A year ago, he was in that very room, and did the most selfish thing he ever could do to his brothers that he yearned to be forgiven for but still did not fully regret, not when it sparked a love for what was the brightest little star in this hellish earth, not when it was a time so wonderful that none of it left his head even after such a year.

He had that time. He had his time. Which was why he shouldn’t have this kind of hope for himself, not when it was the only time he ever had, which makes all this all the more impossible to go his way. Or at least, the way he dreamed for it to be.

All that thought changed, however, when she came into her room, stopped over her desk, and saw what he’d left for her.

It was a dangerous game, breaking into her house. And if it had gone on just a bit longer, he’d have thought all this was a messy screw up no U-turn was going to fix. Maybe he’d finally did it this time, destroyed everything with these overwhelming feelings he had no idea how to control. He didn’t know how to play this game if it was even a game at all. He’s never loved before. He doesn’t know how to love. He doesn’t know what to do after he falls in love.

She was confused. Jason could tell with the way her eyebrows bunched up at the center. Then she looked out the windows. Thankfully, he was hidden too far into the dark for her to see.

But she held that rose as if it were so much more than that, and when she let her fingers draw on the edges of the petals once so fresh, everything in him ceased. He couldn’t stop watching.

It was all there is really. A white rose.

The first Valentine’s day gift he’s ever given.

He knew his brothers would go all out, give her the world, give her the whole of Gotham, show her the heights of their immense love so undeniable. It was what she deserved.

But he couldn’t let this day pass without at least giving her something.

He still loved her, after all. Even if it wouldn’t lead to anything.

Y/N’s smile made him feel like the dorky kid at school in love with a girl he’s never talked to, leaving a flower in her locker without letting her know who it was from. And he was just that, in fact. There are no inaccuracies.

And he knew, without a doubt, that she’d get his message.

As she always does, with them having this bond, this connection like no other. Jason was, after all, the one who understood her best.

He understood how the most horrific thing that could happen to someone could end up being the one thing that takes over the rest of their identity. He died, and that’s what people ended up knowing him for. The Robin who died. And Y/N, no matter how much she works or achieves, will be the girl who lost her leg. But she was so much more than that. In every way.

A white rose was what she was. This beautiful, untainted slate, fresh without a single flaw no matter how much those flaws seem to be so obvious, and she does what she makes of her identity no one will be able to dictate. She wasn’t her trauma. She wasn’t her past. She was her.

Maybe he did look into it too deep, but he couldn’t help with seeing the way she smiled and took the rose to bed, laying it beside her as she changed and got under the sheets.

Maybe he should have done more.

But not even he could help grinning his cheeks off when he finally left that place, so swiftly no one would have seen even if they tried.

It was enough. At least, for him.

More so when he felt his phone in his pocket.

Y/N: ‘Thank you for the rose. Happy Valentine’s day, Jason.’

He snorted and audibly laughed, staring at his phone reading the message five times in a few seconds. He didn’t even leave so much as a note. How was she so sure it was from him?

Because she understood him, too. More than anyone. It went both ways.

It will hurt like a bitch when she ultimately chooses another. Because as much as he hates to admit it, not to others and especially not to himself, he needed her a lot more than she needed him. Even when they only had so much time, it was that time he realized he wanted that for the rest of his life.

But he’ll get through it. Somehow. Like he always does.

-----

For so much of this love that came from the purest hearts, it never calls for what was easy.

And it wasn’t at the least.

But with difficulties and trials, the triumph will be the reward that brings all else to its place. A place of peace. Contentment.

Seven days after, the story comes to an end.

An end too long-awaited but has taken the time for it to be right.

Seven days after,

She makes her choice.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N: WHO’S READY FOR THE PRE-FINALE AND THE FINALE!!! I’M SO EXCITED AHHHHHHH

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batboys #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #reader insert #3 birds 1 stone #3 birds 1 stone series #batarella #batarella series

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kbuggg3 · 3 years ago

Text

~U m b r e l l a A c a d e m y~ FivexReader: “Stakeout” (Part 1)

IMAGINE: After discovering the apocalypse and getting transported back into the present, Five and (y/n) make it their mission to stop the doomsday clock and save not only their family, but the entirety of the world as they know it.

No ever thought anything like this would ever happen. Everyone assumed the other was content with the lives they were forced to live. Well, everyone except Five. He was very secretive or quiet with his hate for this lifestyle. It started off as a regular day in the Hargreeves residence.

Mother had just finished making breakfast as she rang the bell and all 8 of us raced down the stairs to see who could try and get to their assigned seat first. Of course we couldn’t sit down yet- we had to wait until our father sat down. He would then nod his head, giving us the green light.

Things were going as good as anything can get there. Breakfast was good. The usually smell of eggs and bacon was almost comforting. Until Five decided enough was enough. He slammed his knife into the table, causing the bottom of it to stick straight up.

All of our eyes went wide. Well, everyone’s except mine. I just slouched back in my chair and rolled my eyes. Even 15 year old me was fed up with Five’s shenanigans.

Me and Five were very close. Closer with each other than we were with anyone else in the family. Me, being Number 8, always got picked on for being the last number. But Five would always tell me I had the coolest powers to cheer me up. I had telekinetic powers.

There was this “unspoken thing” between me and Five as Klaus would call it- We were also pretty close with him.

Me and Five liked each other, as more than friends of course. But it was forbidden. It was our fathers rule to “keep it professional” even though we were only kids. That’s one reason why Allison and Luther’s relationship never went anywhere.

The other reason being they were both too shy to admit their feelings. Whereas Five, a person with no filter whatsoever, used to tell me all the time. He told me everything and anything. Five used to slip notes under my door, telling me to meet him after hours.

When everyone was asleep I would open his door to find him waiting for me on his bed, wearing a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, just like the rest of us (Father picked those outfits out as well).

We would lay on our backs side by side on his decent sized mattress and talk about anything that came to mind. Sometimes he would say to me, “I wish we could be together,” as if telling someone you liked them was as simple as telling someone about their day.

But that’s what I liked about him. He was open. Honest. Because we told each other everything, he would always rant to me about how father won’t let him time travel.

So I knew the moment he stood in front of the upright knife with his fist clenched, he was angry about just that.

“Number Five?”

“I have a question.”

Father continued to eat his breakfast as if this were a normal, everyday thing. But it wasn’t. “Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtimes. You are interrupting Herr Carlson.” Five rolled his eyes and responded sternly, “I want to time travel.”

“No.”

“But I’m ready! I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said!” Five then proceeded to teleport from his seat, over to the right side of fathers chair. “See?”

Father sighed and took the fork of eggs away from his mouth as he began to lecture Five. “A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.”

“Well I don’t get it.”

“Hence the reason you're not ready.” Father stated as he took a sip of his grape wine.

Five looked over to me, his angered look immediately going soft. I shook my head, trying to tell him not to go any further. He looked like he was actually considering it, but the moment he looked away, all considerations faded.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Fear isn’t the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable.” Father then threw his utensils onto his plate making them clatter loudly and he faced Five and yelled, “Now I forbid you to talk about this anymore!”

Five gave me one last look, almost like he was apologizing for something, and then ran off, causing all heads to turn.

“Number Five! You haven’t been excused!”

Of course Five didn’t listen. Why would he listen to our so-called father who didn’t even bother to give us real names, only numbers? But maybe he’ll listen to me. Without thinking, or waiting for consent, I got up from my seat and ran after him.

“Number 8!”

After yelling his name over and over again, Five finally turned around, his cheeks red with anger. “Five, where are you going?”

“Away.”

“What do you mean ‘away’? You're just gonna leave everything?” Five didn’t answer.

“You-“ I began to try and speak again but my voice was breaking. I can’t let him see me like this. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You’re just going to leave me?”

Five’s eyes moved from his untied shoelace to my eyes. His gaze softened again and he slowly reached out for my hand.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this.”

And then it happened. It’s kind of all a blur really. All I remember is him letting go of my hand and the blue light surrounding him.

I desperately reached out to grab his hand but all I could touch was the sleeve of his uniform. And before I knew it, I had time traveled into the future with him. Every building was crumbled and in ruins.

There were occasional fires here and there. After finding all of our family dead, the only evidence we found was an eye that Luther's dead corpse was holding in his hand. We spent 30 years together in that shithole.

At first it was hell. He was mad at me for being there because it “wasn’t safe” and “I should be at home”. I was just trying to stop him from making decisions that he insisted WEREN’T stupid. Look where that got us.

Eventually we met Dolores. She’s the only friend me and Five ever had. Especially when you grow up as a “baby superhero” as Diego would call us. We never went to school, birthday parties, play dates.

We lived a life that was far from normal, so we were very thankful for Dolores. Eventually me and Five made up, started dating even.

43 years later, Five then made an equation to help us time travel back home and even after Dolores told him a million times that his equation was inaccurate he still used it anyway, causing me and him to go back to recent times.... but in our 15 year old bodies.

After reuniting with our family and almost getting murdered by some of Five’s old co-workers, we are now trying to figure out who the eye belongs to so we can try to stop the apocalypse from destroying our world and everyone in it.

—————————————————————

“I knew this was a waste of time. I mean what did I expect her to do? Help us?” (y/n) and Five walked away from Vanya’s apartment complex.

They had tried telling her about the apocalypse and where the couple had been for the past 16 years, thinking she was the only one they could trust, but it was too much information for her to handle. She didn’t even know how to respond to them.

“Well, Five, how did you expect her to respond? Did you think she was going to understand everything immediately? We’ve been gone for the past, what, 16 years? For them at least. For us it was 43.”

“I understand that, but you’d think she would have something to say or questions at least!” (y/n) nodded in agreement. “Let’s just go to the laboratory and find out who this eye belongs to.”

Five nodded as well and grabbed her hand. He then teleported them to the front steps of the laboratory. (y/n) let go of his hand and began to walk up the steps, but he pulled her back and wrapped his hand around hers as he tried to keep his eyes forward and act normal.

Even though every touch, although some small, makes his heart beat 10 times faster and the heat to rise to his cheeks. (y/n) just giggled and kissed his cheek, that soon began to turn a slight shade of pink.

They walked through the doors, hand in hand, with hopeful smiles on their faces.

—————————————————————

“What. An. Idiot.” Five said angrily as he stomped down the steps. (y/n) and Five had attempted to ask the guy for the name of the owner of the eye, but he insisted that he could not give out that information. And when the man looked me up and down, Five got a little violent and they called security.

“Well maybe if you hadn't threatened to ram the guy's head into the wall, we probably would’ve actually gotten somewhere.” (y/n) stayed as she sat on the steps and watched as Five paced back and forth, attempting to think of another plan.

“Wha- i- He was looking at you in a way that no older man should be looking at a 15 year old!” Five shouted pointing toward the doors to the lab. He then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose instead. “Alright. Fine.

Let’s just... go with plan B.”

“Which is....?”

—————————————————————

“You want me to do what?”

“Klaus, please! This is important!” (y/n) said, folding her hands like she’s begging.

“So you want me... to go to this laboratory.... and pretend to be your dad so you can, what, find the name of the person who owns an eyeball that you found in the future?”

Five and (y/n) shared a look and shrugged. “Yes...?” After a moment of silence Klaus finally spoke up. “I’m too sober for this. I am NOT going to do this.”

—————————————————————

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Klaus said frustratedly as he, Five, and (y/n) walked down the familiar hallways of the laboratory. “You’ll do anything that involves you getting paid, won’t you?” Five snapped. “Hey 20 bucks is a great deal don’t you think?” Klaus turned to (y/n) and she shrugged then nodded her head.

They eventually made it to Mr. Big’s office, which was the same guy Five threatened. “I’m sorry but without the client’s consent, I simply can’t help you.” Five stood up and angrily responded, “Well we can’t get consent if you don’t give us a name.”

“Well that’s not my problem. Sorry now there’s really nothing I can do, so-“ Before the guy could finish, Klaus interrupted. “And what about my consent?”

“Excuse me?” My. Big’s replied confused. “Who gave you permission... to lay your hands... on my children?” He began to fake cry as me and Five looked at each other, and then at Klaus with a confused look. “Wha- I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t touch your children!”

“Oh really? Then how did my son get that swollen lip then?” Klaus stands up and faces Five. “He doesn’t have a swollen-“ Klaus brings his arm back and punches Five hard in the mouth. (y/n) gasps, but doesn’t move from her seat, trying her best to play along with whatever it was Klaus was doing.

Five touched his hand to his mouth, looking at the blood on it. He looked like he was going to kill Klaus right then and there. “And as for my daughter!” Klaus began to look at me with his arm pulled back, ready to hit, but before it reached her face (y/n) grabbed his fist and yanked it forward so his face was close to hers and she whispered, “Touch me, and I’ll kick your *ss.” Klaus just smiled and backed away.

“What about your daughter?” Klaus looked at me with a smirk and I began to fake cry. “H-He touched me! He tried to rape me!” Five smirked as well as he wrapped an arm around my waist and Klaus laughed with joy.

“You guys are crazy.”

“You have no idea.” (y/n) replied chuckling slightly. Everyone watched as Klaus picked up a snow globe that was sitting on the man's desk and he read it. “‘Peace on earth.’ That's so sweet.” He then smashed it onto his head causing it to shatter and his head to bleed. I jumped slightly at the noise and Five’s grip on my waist tightened as if to reassure me it’s ok.

“God that hurt.” Klaus groaned. When the guy reached for the phone on his desk and typed in a number, most likely security again, Klaus took it out of his hands and held it up to his ear. “There’s been an assault...” he “cried”, “in Mr. Bigs office and we need security, now. Schnell!” He yelled then threw the phone down and shook his head to try and make the blurry vision go away.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen Grant.”

“I-It’s Lance... actually.”

“In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood and a distraught little girl, and they’re gonna wonder ‘What the hell happened?’” Five looked me up and down, smirked, then looked over to the man. “And we’re gonna tell them that you... beat the shit out of us and RAPED our little girl!” Klaus continued to fake cry but it turned into a laugh when he saw the man's terrified expression.

“You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there.” Lance just gave him a weird look but Klaus continued. “Little piece of chicken like you. Oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a......” he tried to think of something to say but couldn’t do he just brushed it off.

“You’re just- you're gonna do great. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Jesus, you’re a real sick bastard.” Lance replies.

Klaus’ face went stone cold as he responded, “Thank you.” And spit a piece of glass from his mouth. (y/n) walks over to his desk and leans down close to his face, to where her slightly unbuttoned uniform shows her cleavage. She reaches her hand past him, resting her arm on his shoulder, as she tries to reach the small drawer behind him to get a lollipop.

She can hear his unsteady breathing which makes her want to throw up, because he’s actually somewhat liking this 15 year old girl seducing him, but also smirk because her plan is working.

Her fingers finally wrap around a lollipop and she whispers with a smile, “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” She pulls back, unwraps the lollipop and puts it in her mouth. She then throws the wrapper onto Lance and walks out of the room with a sway of her hips. Five stared at her in awe and Klaus winked at the guy.

Finally, Lance took them to where all of the files are. Five stood in front of the desk, Klaus sat on the other side, facing Lance and all the files, and (y/n) propped her elbows up on the end of the desk, her chin resting on one of her fists as she watched the man as he searched through the drawer.

“That’s strange.”

“What?” Five demands.

“Well, the eye hasn’t been purchased yet.”

“That is strange.” Klaus says standing up and circling Lance to make him nervous.

“This can't be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?” He asks looking up from his files and at Five.

He just shakes his head.

———————————————————��—

“Well this is not good.” (y/n) says as the three of them walk back down the steps of the lab. “I was pretty good, though, right? ‘Oh ya? What about my consent bitch?’” Klaus laughed, trying to re-enact the scene from earlier.

“Klaus, it doesn’t matter.”

He just rolls his eyes and responds, “What’s the deal with this eye anyway? Why is it so important to you?”

“Someone out there is going to lose an eye in the next seven days.” (y/n) responds as Five finishes.

“Exactly. They’re gonna bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it.”

Klaus was listening, but didn't really understand what it meant. He didn’t try to understand because he doesn’t really care. He just wants his money.

“Yeah whatever. Hey, can I just get my 20 bucks, like, now?”

“Your 20 bucks?” (y/n) asked as Five rolls his eyes.

“Yeah my 20 bucks.”

“Unbelievable. I give up.” She throws up her arms and walks back to the steps and sits down. She rests her elbows on her knees and her chin rests on one hand while the other hand holds her unfinished lollipop.

“The apocalypse is coming, and all you can think about is getting high?” Five snaps. “Well I’m also quite hungry.” Klaus rubs his stomach then makes a growling noise. “You're useless.” Five shakes his head and walks over to (y/n), sitting next to her and stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Oh come on. You need to lighten up, old man.” Five signs and grabs (y/n)’s free hand, placing their intertwined hands in his lap and gently rubbing her hand with his other. “Hey you know, I’ve just realized why you're so uptight. You must be horny as hell!” Klaus laughs as if he’s just discovered a new scientific discovery.

(y/n) and Five just look at him and then continue on with what they’re doing. “All those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head being alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I had (y/n).” (y/n) smiles a little and stares down at their hands. “Perfect! Well why don’t y’all get together and... we’ll ya know!”

“You know what? Your right Klaus.”

“I-I am?”

“He is?” (y/n) asks, standing up with Klaus. “Of course he’s right. He’s always right. Well, we best be on our way then!” Five grabs (y/n)’s hand and pulls her towards the road, leaving Klaus there with a surprised look on his face. “Hope you don’t mind if we use your bed! Thanks!”

“Wait... what?!” But before Klaus could say anything else Five teleports himself and (y/n) into a taxi. “Wait no! Not my bed! Also I need my 20 bucks!” Klaus yells, running after the car. (y/n) just rolls up the window and waves as Five pulled her into his lap and kisses her jaw, then her neck, then her collar bone, and goes back up.

“Was it true what you said?” (y/n) asked, smirking. “Not entirely.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t say that I’m not horny but....”

“Mhm. And...?”

“And that is NOT the reason why I’m ‘uptight’.” Five says pouting a little. (y/n) just laughed and they continued to kiss. When they were completely out of sight, Klaus ran his hands through his hair.

“Shit.”

#five #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five x reader #five x you #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you

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commonwealthoccurences · 3 years ago

Text

Fireflies In Spring (NickxPreston)

Request: "Late Pride request! Thank you so much for accepting me still! Could I have a Nick/Preston oneshot?? No particular idea in mind, but definitely fluff! I need some fluff for the soul 🏳️‍🌈💖"

There’s something of an unspoken understanding between Preston and Nick, hanging in the air between them, sweet and fresh like springtime rain. They’re busy individuals, with their own demanding schedules and responsibilities. They’ve got obligations to the people that look to them for guidance, and a responsibility to maintain a professional demeanor, always the strong pillars, the leaders, the emotional rocks.

But in the dead of night it’s easy to unmask and relax back into the people they are outside of their jobs, requiring them to consider everyone but themselves. Oftentimes, when the settlers have retreated back into their homes and burrowed under their blankets, Preston will finally kick up his feet on the porch of his quaint home in the back of Sanctuary. There’s such a big difference between being out and about in leader mode, he thinks, and being out and about in Sanctuary as just Preston.

It’s peaceful once he’s washed the grime and sweat of the day away and sunk into the rocking chair on his porch. There’s crickets chirping away in the fields nearby, fireflies dancing like little decorative lights in the air. It’s such a contrast from the busy ruckus of the day and Preston sighs in relief.

A quiet rapping against the wooden support of the porch startles Preston into sitting upright. A familiar, raspy chuckle matches perfectly with the dreamy night air. “Don’t go into Senior Officer mode on my account, Garvey.” Nick gives him a lopsided grin and Preston takes that as his cue to slide back down, slouching in the chair.

Preston replies with a playful scowl. “I hate when you call me that.” Another chuckle. “Get over here.”

Nick takes up the invitation gladly and crosses the creaky deck to settle into the empty chair beside Preston, a recent addition to the man’s home, and reaches out. He winds his fingers between Preston’s and lifts his hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “Busy day?” He asks, lips still brushing against Preston’s skin.

Preston nods with a light sigh. “I think I’ll have arthritis before 30.”

“Hm. Don’t you worry, I’m somewhat of an expert in being old. I can teach you.”

Preston squeezes the synth's hand when he laughs, shifting to face him. “Matter of fact,” Nick continues, “I think you’re already going gray.”

“I’ll take it, y’know. Going gray is a privilege.”

Nick can’t argue, swiping his thumb back and forth across the back of Preston’s hand. Much like going gray, being able to touch, to hold, to trust, is a privilege; it’s a privilege Nick hasn’t had in a very long time, one he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in. But Preston was something special, and he reminded the Officer every day he saw him, and even the days he didn’t over terminal messages.

The fireflies mesmerize the pair for a few moments, shifting like a miniature light show. After a beat, Nick leans closer, their shoulders touching despite the obnoxious barrier of their chairs’ armrests. “I think you were a firefly in a past life.”

This catches Preston off guard and he gives a short, choppy laugh, confused. “What?”

“My light.”

Preston groans and covers his face with his free hand. “When did you get so sappy? What has being in Sanctuary done to you?”

“Y’know, I moved to the settlement and I started spending time with this person, you might know him. He’s intelligent and compassionate and sees beauty in the world that I can’t even begin to comprehend. I’d give my limbs just to make sure I could spend another day with him.”

There’s no rebuttal in Preston’s vocabulary for this. Of course, he knows Nick is straightforward; he says what he means without beating around the bush, and it’s one of the things that first attracted Preston to him. But Preston doesn’t think he could ever be used to the way that Nick doesn’t hesitate to say how he feels. It’s poetry that he’d only seen in the remains of pre-war books, and the thing that leaves Preston in disbelief the most is the fact that Nick can come up with it just by looking at him. The synth takes advantage of the silence to speak again. “You should take a bath and soothe those old bones, grandpa.” Nick teases.

“I took a dunk in the river.” Preston shrugs.

“That’s not gonna help and you know it. Tell you what, rest and enjoy your peace while I go draw a hot bath.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d give you the moon if you asked me to.” A pause, once again. “Please don’t, I’m not great at science, to be honest. But I’d do it anyway.”

Nick’s pleased when he gets yet another laugh from Preston. The grin hasn’t left his face during their entire conversation, and he knows he’s all teeth when he leans down to catch Preston’s lips against his own, but it’s endearingly clumsy in the way one can be imperfect and unjudged around someone they’re so close to. He moves to pull away, but Preston reaches up to place a hand on the back of his neck, and pecks the corner of his mouth a few more times. “Thank you.” “Anytime, firefly.”

#Fallout 4 #Fo4 #Fanfiction #FF #Oneshot #Nick Valentine #Preston Garvey #Fluff #Pride Anon #Imagine

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rina-writes · 4 years ago

Text

A Lady Knows

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first Dolan twin fic I’m posting (if you like my work, let me know and I’ll release my drafts)! This is also my first time using this blog. I have written on Tumblr since 2009 under 10 different blogs (yikes). I wanted a fresh start, so here it is. I haven’t decided if I want to align with any fandoms, but I’m happy to write the twins for now. This was inspired by the most recent video, so I hope you all like it. Thanks x

“So, for the final test...” Ethan looks at Grayson who meets his eyes with same excited expression with a tinge of a nervous smile. “We are going to see if we can trick Grayson’s girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Whew...” Grayson exhaled theatrically as he pushed his hands forward before letting his fingers rake through his short hair. “I feel like this is testing our relationship more than anything else.”

“So, fun fact.” Ethan pivots his body toward the camera, urging Grayson to do the same. “Y/N has not mixed us up. Even if we both call her on speaker phone, she knows who’s talking. And I think she has a lot of pride in this.”

“If we can trick, Y/N, I am 110% sure we can trick all of you guys.” Grayson chimes in.

There’s a silence for about half a second before Grayson screams loudly.

“Stop yelling!” Ethan laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m so nervous.” Grayson started shaking his hands and wiggling his shoulders. “I don’t know if she’s going to get it.”

“This is actually going to be a two part test.” Ethan explained. “So, we are going to FaceTime her to invite her over. Like with everyone else, it will be Grayson calling from my phone with me talking in the background. Even if she passes the first test, she will have to past the second one. The in-person test.”

Ethan starts chuckling and Grayson grins, picking up where he left off.

“We’re going to stand back to back where she can only see us from the side. She will have 30 seconds to kiss the cheek of the one she thinks is her boyfriend.” Grayson paused for a second. “She has 30 seconds to kiss ME. On the cheek...just in case she messes up, I don’t want any sloppy seconds from my brother.”

“Oh boy...” Ethan rubbed his hands together. “This is gonna be good.”

“Alright, alright, let’s call her.” Grayson said, finally gaining the courage to do this.

You frowned as you stared at your phone. It was a FaceTime call from Ethan. You paused the movie you were watching on Netflix and sat up straighter. Ethan never FaceTimed you. He would occasionally text you, but a FaceTime call felt a bit out of the norm. You shrugged, figuring Grayson was doing something stupid and couldn’t film it himself so enlisted Ethan.

“Hey E--” You started to say, before squinting. “Gray? What the...did you cut your hair?”

“What do you mean?” Grayson...er Ethan...one of the twins asked. The person looked like Grayson, but the voice was definitely Ethan. You were confused.

“Okay, that’s trippy.” You narrowed your eyes. “I’m 100% sure you are Grayson, but you sound like Ethan...is Ethan talking behind you or something.”

“OH MY GOD!” Ethan yelled, coming into frame. “You are the only person who got it!!”

“Great job, babe. Proud of you!” Grayson laughed, giving you a thumbs up.

“Well, now we have to see if you can pass the second test.” Ethan wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh brother...” You rolled your eyes. “What stupid and vaguely intrusive thing am I going to have to do?”

Ethan started to explain, but Grayson stopped him with a wide, mischievous grin. “You’ll see. Can you come over?”

“Ugh, fine!” You said, pretending to be upset, but actually incredibly curious.

“See you soon.” Grayson said. Ethan and Grayson together then added, “Love you.”

“Ahh” You jumped, covering your moths as you spoke. “That’s so creepy, you looked so alike just now. Oh god, I hope I pass the second test.”

“Me too...” Grayson said before laughing and hanging up.

You got dressed, spending a bit more time on your makeup as you figured this was for a video. You got into your car and drove to the twins’ house, your brain unable to figure out what the two could be plotting. You parked your car in the driveway, waving to the construction workers before walking into the house. The back door was open, as per usual when they were expecting someone, and you walked in, gingerly.

Ryan popped out nearly scaring you half to death with a camera in his hand.

“Hi Y/N!” Ryan said, cheerfully.

“Jesus, Ryan, you nearly killed me.” You pressed your hand to your chest.

“Sorry, the boys wanted me to be the one to tell you the rules.” Ryan gestured toward the living room, still obscured from your view as Ryan blocked you from entering. “The boys are standing back to back in the living room. You will have 10 seconds to figure out which one is your boyfriend and you have to run up and kiss that one. Even after you get closer, you can’t change.”

“But if you think you’re wrong, don’t kiss him!” Grayson yelled from the living room. “Even if it’s me, better be safe than sorry, babe.”

You laughed loudly before nodding. “Okay, I think I got this.”

“Alright, 1...2...3...” Ryan counted you down.

You ran into the kitchen and you saw the boys back to back staring forward. You could only see their profiles and damn did they look similar.

“GO!” Ryan yelled.

Your body started moving on its own while your mind was still questioning if that was 10 seconds. Your arms hugged your chosen twin, your brains still analyzing the features, second guessing yourself. But as your lips collided with his cheek and his arm naturally lifted to wrap around your waist, you knew you had the right twin.

“Whoa!” Ethan yelled, turning to look at you both with an impressed expression.

Grayson turned to you with a wide, almost relieved smile as he kissed your forehead. “I’m happy, but also a bit disappointed I didn’t trick you.”

“What can I say,” You laughed. “I know my man...”

“It’s true, a lady always knows.” Ryan said from behind the camera.

“Well, we weren’t able to trick Grayson’s girlfriend,” Ethan said to the camera, dejectedly, “BUT, we were able to trick all of you and this is how...”

Ryan put down the camera. At this point, you recognized their video transitions and knew you could relax. Everyone seemed to let out a deep breath they didn’t know they were holding.

“I was so nervous.” You admitted to Grayson. “But my body seemed to know...”

“Hmm?” Grayson hummed, pulling you closer to him. “Of course, it did.”

“Okay, gross.” Ethan said, covering his ears. “I don’t need to hear this, especially not watching you hold Y/N while you look like me. It feels weird, I’m leaving.”

Ethan left the room with Ryan to setup for the next part of the video.

You laughed and hugged Grayson tightly. “Go finish the video, I have to finish my Netflix movie.”

“Alright, alright.” He pecked your lips softly. “But afterward it’s you, me and that tiny home.”

“Go, Gray!” You laughed with a blush.

“One more kiss for the road.” He pouted, knowing you were a sucker for needy Grayson.

“Alright fine...” You kissed him deeply, your hands naturally going through his hair. You gasped breaking the kiss. “My hands just glide through. No knots, no tangles, just whoosh.”

Grayson laughed and rested his forehead on yours. His voice got deeper and his hazel eyes darkened. “You, me, and tiny home....You’ll get to play in this hair all you want.”

You blushed deeply and pushed him away. “Go, the faster you go, the sooner you’ll come back.”

Grayson saluted you with a wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

And with that you sat down and watched Netflix, basking in your the glow of being able to call yourself the reigning champ of telling the twins apart.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan blurb #ethan dolan blurb #dolan twins blurb #r-writes-fic

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grahamcarmen · 4 years ago

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Hi, so I just finished the new season today! I have so many thoughts, the last few episodes felt kind of rushed? I wished they had gone about the whole situation between Gray and Carm at the end differently. More so on seeing them reunited. My biggest question, is why was he so quick on going back to VILE? He knew what they were capable of yes, was it to feed his criminal impulses? Why did ever want to steal in the first place? What led him to that conclusion and how did he learn of VILE? I was keen on seeing more of his backstory, and still need time to let the story simmer so I can analyze it more. It's just confusing. I guess it's just because the show ended that I feel so bittersweet y'know. What do you think Carmen would've done after they all disbanded? How could she leave them so quickly after she just got back to Team Carmen in the end? Besides wanting to see her mother. I was hoping they'd at least stay together.

i think that more than a few people feel that ( the knee jerk incredulity at her just leaving them a note and yeeting was real)

like disclaimer again: i do love carmen and this season this is just expanding on some little ??’s

on gray and “thinking gray.”: I was also feeling the lackluster on the payoff motivation wise for gray returning to VILE ( which was definitely needed as he was the secret weapon needed to finally get evil carmen back and at least partially inevitable due to ownership of the choices yadadadada )but like when he finally got his memories back he just repeated some things that i never really doubted. that gray did this of his own free will, he probably is of a lower empathy in general (which does not mean incapable of caring and doing the right thing. just that..~~~), that he regretted hurting carmen. in s1 he says his primary motivation as making more money and i was like”mmhmm fits.” being a thief and all and why not since they hadn’t introduced the big “needs to be able to tie up loose ends.” as a operative qualifier to anyone, including some of the recruits there. the only newer thing was his video that he seeked them out. which is interesting and all but sets him up as a go-getter so its so confusing that he’d choose to return to VILE ...a place where he was hurt and is so freaking selfish with what capers they choose to pursue. i kinda went on a tangent on another post that there is a theme of using a false sense of bonding to give them a little more loyalty which is like really heavy considering that means offering a “home” to what looks like operatives who might all be orphans but i don’t think it was highlighted enough to say “HEY YO” even tho GRAY LOOKS SO TIRED TO LEARN ABOUT HIS PAST WITH VILE

its really interesting because of the 3 people who had access to him/nature we got; carmen who only encouraged his desire to help (for the kiddos, for her safety, for assuring her that they were in...whatever... together, and make sure that they weren’t being secret spy jerks) ACME who got like...0 usefulness (riperonis ma guys), and VILE with maelstrom just hammering home all his shadier deeds with “YEAH THIS IS YOU.” AND HIM JUST ACCEPTING IT AFTER SITTING FOR A LONG AF TIME ALONE.

and when this was happening I was thinking about this analysis from another fandom about characters who resign to the law of the strong which could have been a reason for why gray doesn’t seem to hold the consequences for his failure against VILE even though he really should. (if they bothered but listen-)

its something that happens when characters choose to live in worlds they know are unfair, know that they choose to lie and steal and cheat, and thus should not be surprised or hurt when it happens to them in return. which of course lead to them not knowing where to draw the line on what happens to them...and i mean this in like some narratives usually go (hahaha no thats messed up please gtfo being treated like that is not ok and in allowing others to define your limits you are whittling yourself away). and they decide to live in resignation that. i am capable of bad... so i AM bad. (I am that guy. i’ve always been that guy) and makes them absolutely ripe for the (but you’ve been good . you can choose to be better. it won’t erase the wrongs of the past but it will make for a better future)

but that still leaves exploration of “WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE BY THE LAW OF THE STRONG??” and you know...not having anyone to rely on, poverty, or what was simple rebelliousness turning to darker and darker paths, are some easy reasons to put a spotlight on maybe our operatives having depth and like..arcs. especially any of those reasons combined. ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY’RE WHAT VILE CONSISTENTLY IS SHOWN OFFERING. (shadowsan really is their s-tier character huh)

which i really thought this show would go for when a shivering brunt who is loyal and protective asked if she was really going to be left behind or remember how unsympathetic most of them seemed to see carmen chloroformed because “she did interrupt our heist.” meaning that they understand this world. probably have understood it for longer than anyone should. (antonio being content as a “pawn” is the tenant in my head today) and why shouldn’t more money be important. or honestly how simple it was to accept that someone would just need more money.

with gray they introduced that he could be good and he could be bad but like leaned into “no all that niceness was fake and he’s bad.” due to the hyper specificity of the mind wipe apparently? which also leans into really flat interpretation of evil!carmen (i just mean that there is a lot there ...) meaning theres no really exploration of him and more of a judgment (even though he’s shown to be kind, snarky, and upfront, as himself without a mind wipe.) and then we wait...

the pacing of the last 2 episodes: adrenaline bebe!!! but also there were so many concepts being introduced and resolved and skimmed past so that it is a little confusing at some conclusions. like the scene you’re talking about where carmen just leaves a note and ghosts is like 30 seconds and thats a lot to unpack because ?? i’m really thinking that it might have been insinuating that carmen left them the pen specifically to give them a new home to wait for her because she was going on that little break like she planned (and they knew was the endgoal) because it was behind her note and presumably placed by her but because i was focusing on the letter goodbye like ??? i thought for some reason that it was zack saying he would now like to try ACME because HE thought of it and i was like ??when did you consider this?? and 3rd watch i was finally “ahhh ok ok i think i get it.”

another bitten off scene i think might have been when gray in his first mission is already exhibiting signs of going...”huh this is not good.”

from stopping carmen from unprofessionalism to seeing that new carmen is willing to up and leave the group for mental gymnastics instead of relying on them 100% to going to the ferris wheel where he DEFINITELY SAW HER TRYING TO KILL A CIVILIAN since it showed his reaction after ivy’s. and then it turn to team red because how they feel about it definately matters more than gray but its also so easy to miss that choosing to have gray witness that as the start of what makes him turn himself in (maybe this is just a possible interpretation and its midnight ok)

evil carmen! lost her empathy. ok. so then like thats a static judgment about how they’re gonna make her do bad stuff and she still absolutely cares about her history and VILE still needed to enforce bonding and giving her memories that they comforted her and gave her her coat so thats why she cares about it and her anger at betrayal and sense of loss that she still throws right in shadowsans face when “evil”

carmen thought she crossed a personal line?? like jeeeeeez that’s 6 months of crossing lines and the most recent and horrifying one happened like not even a minute ago and then 5 seconds later we get chief and her reconciling because yes it needed to happen so we’re not gonna address how traumatizing it was or

VILE JUST WENT ALL THE WAY DOWN HUH??

and all these things are important and have the groundwork for happening but man they just happen one after the other and its like

before moving on to the next thing and like let me breathe omg

and yeah that means that so many people were left confused because the show about family (carmen’s family that SHE built ) seemed to disband for carmen to go to see her mother at last alone, shadowsan to go to his brother and a heartbroken pair of red heads to join ACME

and we get a time gap before reuniting but only a few seconds to decide if reuniting was the plan all along(the pressure point)

and there is a lot of actual IN TIME that is broad strokes that many people have already picked whats going to haunt them that wasn’t explored more...

TLDR; i get it on both counts (gray and rushed)! glad there was some sweet in your bittersweet and since canon definitely had team red in the same place they absolutely reunited and moved back into the shop and carmen talked to them about how great her mom is and planned a dinner

#red crackle thoughts #not really red crackle but #ask #midnight me needs to learn what brevity is i swear #cs spoilers #also i am notorious at clipping my pwn thoughts #some of the context in my head didnt make it to being typed i am so sorry

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songbirdsingingthings · 5 years ago

Text

No Last Words

As the team is in the middle of an investigation, Y/N and Spencer go to investigate. But, terror strikes and hidden feelings are revealed as Y/N is in danger.

Today marked the 7th day that they were in Phoenix Arizona tracking down a deranged serial killer. His M.O. was something that the BAU had never come across - he would hijack buses full of people, drive them to a remote area, and kill them. Y/N racked her brain to try and determine what the killer’s next move would be, but she didn’t have to wait. She heard the glass doors of the room she was in fly open as Derek raced in, his breathing heavy.

“A bus has just been reported to be hijacked. It was last seen going past Agua Fria National Monument.” Derek said, looking at Y/N.

“That doesn’t make any sense - no forms public transportation even head in that direction. Not even tour guides lead trips out there.” Spencer said, sitting across the room from Y/N.

“That’s because it’s a field trip,” Derek said, causing a chill to go down Y/N’s spine, “the sick son of a bitch has hijacked a school bus full of fourth graders.” Y/N’s horrified expression was enough to make Spencer’s stomach drop. The two of them had grown to become good friends ever since Y/N had joined the BAU. They even lived one apartment building away from the other, so they would carpool to work together. To save gas. No other... hidden reason or anything. The truth was, the two had indeed developed feelings for each other, but neither of them acted on it because they were scared. Scared that the other didn’t reciprocate their feelings or that it might ruin their friendship. But, neither Y/N nor Spencer could think about those feelings at the moment, because Hotch had gathered the team in the room that the Phoenix Police Department had given them.

“Morgan and Prentiss, I need you two to canvass the elementary school. Find out if anyone hacked into their computer system or stolen files so that they could find out about the field trip. I’ve already informed Garcia, so she’ll be working closely with you. JJ, ride along with them so that you can speak to staff members, parents, or anyone who might be able to give you information. L/N and Reid, you need to drive the route that the unsub drove. This might be our only way to know what kind of roads the unsub prefers. Rossi and I will follow you, but we need to get the local police together first. Don’t engage if you find him, got it?” Spencer and Y/N nodded and gathered their things quickly. Y/N’s heart didn’t stop racing until they were about 30 minutes on the road. Thankfully, Spencer was driving.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, looking at you with concern. Pulling herself together, Y/N nodded and gave him the biggest smile she could muster.

“Yeah. I just want to find this guy before anything happens to those kids.” She said quietly. Spencer nodded and kept driving. A peaceful silence settled between the two of them, but was soon interrupted as Y/N saw something. “Spence! Stop the car!” She yelled. Spencer stopped the car, and then saw what Y/N had seen. A yellow school bus was parked at the side of the road, no one to be seen around it. Donning her bullet proof vest, Y/N unbuckled her seat belt. Just as she was about to open the door, Spencer put his hand forcefully over her’s to stop it.

“Y/N, Hotch said we weren’t supposed to engage. We can’t go blindly in there.” Spencer said firmly, giving Y/N a hard stare.

“Spence, look, there are no shadows in the windows. No one. We need to look, or we may not catch him in time. We need to save those kids, or I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself as I have to tell multiple parents that their kids were murdered.” Y/N said, fire in her voice and eyes. Relenting, Spencer buckled his own vest and stepped out of the car slowly. Motioning for Y/N, she, too, stepped out of the car and made her way over to the open doors of the bus. Just as she had thought, there were no kids on the bus.

“Okay, I’m gonna look under the seats for anything that the kids might’ve left behind.” Spencer said, crouching to see under the wrinkled gray seats. Y/N was just about to respond until she felt cold metal press against the side of her head, pinching her ear. Frozen, Y/N peered to the side and saw the sick grin of their unsub. Y/N’s breathing became shallow, but she forced herself to remain calm.

“Spencer,” she whispered, looking at the man she loved as he examined a piece of paper from his crouched position on the floor.

“Y/N, I think I found something here,” Spencer said, not looking up from the evidence he had discovered, “this address is-” Spencer cut himself off as he looked up at Y/N. His eyes grew wide with panic as he saw the man that had claimed several lives pressed a gun against his love’s head. Drawing, his own gun, Spencer started to raise it up to face the unsub.

“I wouldn’t do that. Unless, you want this pretty little lady to die.” The unsub chuckled as his grip around Y/N got tighter. “It’s a shame that, even if your little friend over there does do what I tell him, you’re still gonna end up on the floor bleeding out.” This was it, Y/N thought. This was how she was going to die. She would never get to adopt that puppy she had her eye on for weeks that was at the shelter. She would never get to pay back Penelope for that one time she covered for her when they went out for frozen yoghurt and Y/N forgot her wallet. She would never get to tell Spencer... that she loved him. No, she thought, no way would she go without telling Spencer.

“Spence...” Y/n whispered, her cheeks now drenched with tears. Spencer took his eyes off of the unsub to look at her in her helpless state. His own cheeks started to become home to his salty tears. “I love you”. BANG! The shot of a gun went off, but weirdly, Y/N didn’t feel any pain. She dared to take her eyes off of Spencer to look down at the floor and see the unsub, dead on the ground. Y/N turned around to see Rossi, still with his gun raised. Overwhelmed, Y/N collapsed to the floors. Her body was shaking, but was soon encased in warmth. Spencer’s arms were wrapped around her small frame. One of his hands held her head and the other was holding her waist.

“I love you too.” He whispered against her ear. Crying, but this time a mix of fear and happiness, Y/N pulled away from him a little, and leaned her head towards his. It was totally unprofessional, but they didn’t care. Spencer met her lips with his and kissed her softly, like she was made of glass and she would break. Pulling apart, Y/N leaned her forehead against his.

“I was scared that I was never going to be able to say that to you.” Y/N admitted.

“No last words from you yet, L/N.” Spencer said, earning a giggle from Y/N, and meeting her lips again. They pulled away which revealed a smiling Y/N.

“You wanna get coffee when we get home?” She said, quirking a small, shy smile.

“Anything your heart desires.” Spencer said, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her back to the car. Hotch did give her a good amount of scolding for going in blindly, but he was more relieved to see her safe and sound. The team flew home overnight. Y/N and Spencer curled up next to the other, which made the rest of the team grin.

“They’re something else, huh?” Morgan said, looking at JJ and Prentiss.

“They’re perfect for each other.” JJ said as Emily nodded. And perfect, they were. Of course, every couple has their scrapes and low moments, but the two were truly soulmates. Two hearts that beat as one. Perfect.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #reader x spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #y/n x spencer reid #Criminal Minds

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lakesandquarries · 4 years ago

Text

Jump the Fence Part Two: Ghost Out Of His Grave

chapter one: ghost in your house

summary: Benrey and Gordon adapt to living together. Some days are better than others.

notes: series title from “jump the fence” by mother mother. this part and the chapters within it are named after “ghosting” by mother mother. this chpater may seem familiar! i technically posted it before but i’m reuploading since it’s now part of a series.

AO3 link

It’s early when Gordon wakes up. Or late, depending on how you look at it. The sky outside is dark, with a faint glow that means the sun is about to rise. When he looks at his alarm clock it reads just past 6:30

If he really wanted, he could go back to sleep. But Benrey was acting weird last night, and Gordon was a little... concerned. Benrey had only been living with Gordon for a few days but he had gotten a decent idea of what they were like. Last night, he’d been all...jumpy, distracted, quiet. He’d barely spoken to Gordon, hadn’t eaten, didn’t even seem interested in the Mario game he was playing. Gordon had watched him fail the same stage 4 times in a row.

He’s not worried about them. It’s just, when your roommate is some kind of eldritch horror, you gotta pay attention when they seem off.

Gordon stumbles out of his room with eyes still bleary, glasses clutched in one hand, and almost walks straight into Benrey. “You’re up early,” he says, rubbing his eyes until his vision comes into focus. Benrey looks slightly dazed, standing in the middle of the living room with...hold on.

“Is that my backpack?”

“Uhhhhhhhh. Nope.”

“Don’t fuckin lie to me, man, that’s mine. What’re you doing with it?”

Benrey just keeps staring. Their pupils are huge in the dim lighting, round like a cats. They have the same weird glow, too. Gordon squints his eyes at them, folding his arms. Finally, they say, “I was just gonna leave.”

Oh, goddamnit. “Dude, it’s 6 am. Where exactly are you planning on going?”

“Uh. Y’know. Out.”

“I don’t know, actually,” Gordon says. He’s trying his best to keep his tone even, but he can’t help the bit of anger that slips out. What the fuck is Benrey playing at here?

Benrey sings a bubble of pale gray sweet voice, followed by an assortment of clear. Fuck, Gordon wishes he knew what that meant. He’ll have to ask Tommy later. Benrey is still quiet otherwise, and Gordon sighs. “Benrey,” he says, gentler. “What’s going on?”

Benrey huffs, looking away and adjusting his hat. “’m sick of waiting,” they mumble, barely intelligible.

“W - Waiting for what?”

The perpetual shadow over his eyes seems to get darker, somehow. “Y’know,” they say again, and this time Gordon explodes.

“I don’t! I don’t know fucking anything because you won’t talk to me! All you do is sit around playing video games and being fucking cryptic and now you’re trying to sneak out at 6 in the goddamn morning!” His fists have found their way into his hair, gripping tightly.

More of those clear bubbles slip out, then black to a dark red. “I’m n - I’m not supposed to be here,” Benrey says, voice flat. “I’m - you killed me.”

Gordon winces at the reminder. “Yeah, well, you got my arm chopped off, so -”

“‘m not mad,” they add quickly. “‘s just how things had to go. But, uh, I’m not…” he trails off, making an obnoxious lip smacking noise. “I don’t have my passport for this area.”

Gordon sighs. “Since when do you care?”

“Mmb,” Benrey says. “Uhhhh.” More of the red bubbles. “Why’re you so mad about this?”

“Why am I mad about you trying to leave in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah. I thought you, uh, hated me and everything.”

“I -” Gordon sighs, rubbing his temples. Yelling’s not gonna help here, if he wants to understand what the hell is happening. He forces his voice to sound calm, or at least as calm as he can manage. Deep breaths, he thinks, his new mantra when dealing with Benrey. “It’s more complicated than that, man.” Honestly, he doesn’t hate Benrey as much as he used to. He doesn’t like him, but…he’s not the worst roommate, and he’s a lot less antagonistic now. He’s followed all of Gordon’s rules and been almost a non-presence in the house. “I mean, we’ve never even talked about…everything.”

“I got your arm chopped off,” Benrey says.

“Yeah, and I’m still pissed about that. But you haven’t done anything like that here.”

“Sooo can I go now?”

“What? No!” God, he’s exhausting to talk to. “Why do you wanna leave?”

He smacks his lips again, looking at the floor. “‘s easier than waiting to get kicked out,” they say.

Gordon rubs his temples again. “I’m not gonna kick you out -”

Benrey looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “You - I - you’re the, the main character. I’m the uh…the bad guy. Duh,” and then he starts humming what Gordon thinks is supposed to be Bad Guy by Billie Eilish. “Right? You beat me. Kill the bad guy, win the game. But now, uh…shit’s all fuck. Bad guy respawned.” He shoots Gordon a wry, tired smile. “So, game’s not over, right? Game, uh….new stage. But you, you’re still the good guy. Fucking, little plumber man Mario. Princess is in another castle, gotta beat Bowser again. Just cause it’s a new stage doesn’t mean Mario and Bowser are gonna be bros. Right?”

He’s about to yell at Benrey for not making any sense when it clicks. “Are - do you think I’m gonna try to kill you again?”

Benrey shrugs, looking away, pulling his hat down over his face.

“Benrey,” Gordon says, trying his best to sound gentle. “I’m not - I only killed you cause you were trying to kill me! I said I wasn’t gonna try to kill you again!”

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” Benrey mutters. He shoves his hands in his pockets, hunching over.

“Then why the hell were you shooting at me!” Gordon yells, nearly hitting himself with his wild gesturing.

Benrey lets out a snort, almost a laugh but too…tired. Almost sad, if that’s an emotion Benrey can actually feel. “Game’s gotta have a villain,” he says.

“Stop being fucking cryptic and just say what you mean for once,” Gordon demands. “You were trying to kill me. You got my arm cut off. Why?”

Benrey sighs. “Game’s gotta have a villain,” he repeats. “Doesn’t matter if...if Bowser wants to fuckin, uh, become a chef or something. He’s gotta kidnap the princess. Even if he spends the whole game hanging out with Mario, he’s still…he’s still the bad guy.”

It’s not really any more comprehensible, but, well, that's Benrey. Gordon doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to be straightforward. The meaning is clear enough, anyway.

“”So you...didn’t wanna be the villain?”

They shrug, trying so hard to seem casual and uncaring, but their expression gives it away. There’s a glint in their eyes, a spark that’s usually missing.

“So then what was with everything else? If you didnt wanna be the villain why were you such an asshole the whole time?”

“Thought it’d be easier.” Their shoulders tense up, eyes softening. Maybe sad is an emotion Benrey feels. Maybe Gordon’s been wrong all this time. “Be hard to kill someone you like, right? You’d do something stupid.”

“So, what, you got my arm cut off so I’d be mad at you? I was pissed before that.”

“I didn’t think they were gonna fuck you up that bad. And it wasn’t - it wasn’t s’pposed to be real.” Yellow eyes dart around, looking at anything but Gordon.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It was just a game. It wasn’t real. You’re just, you were just some dude playing a video game, right? When Mario gets punched it’s like, whatever. The guy playing doesn’t care. If he gets punched enough though maybe he’ll just like...give up. Bowser gets to, uh, release the princess and go fuck around. I didn’t...'s supposed to just be a game over when Mario gets beat up. Load save.”

“And what about the boss shit at the end? Where you were, y’know, trying to kill me?”

A flicker of emotion flashes over Benrey’s face, before he goes back to his usual deadpan stare. “Uhhhhhh. Bow -”

Gordon shakes his head, “No, no more of that fucking Mario metaphor. Just - can you just talk like a normal person for five minutes?”

“Nah.”

Gordon wants to tear his hair out. He pinches his nose, taking a deep breath, and then another, until he feels like he can speak without trying to beat the shit out of Benrey. “Just. Answer the question. Why did you try to kill me?”

“I don’t remember?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No!” Benrey says, something close to offense in his voice, like he's actually hurt Gordon doesn’t believe him, but then he drops right back into that tired tone he usually has. “It was all...fuzzy. TV static, but like, in my head? And nothing, uh, nothing was like….real. I just….” he shrugs, picking at his nails. “‘I’m just vibing, bro.” Gordon takes another deep breath, cleaning his fists and preparing to say something, but Benrey presses on. “I tried to turn back. Before we went in, I told you, we had to go back. You didn’t listen.”

“Of course I didn’t listen!” He throws his arms up in the air in sheer exasperation. “You’d been saying nothing but bullshit up until then! How do I know this isn’t more bullshit, huh? How do I know you’re not just - trying to get me to let my guard down, so you can actually kill me?”

Benrey makes a low noise, accompanied by a handful of brownish-blue bubbles. “‘m not,” he mutters. “I didn’t - I don’t wanna be bad.” The shadow over his eyes is black now, the yellow of his eyes unsettlingly dim.

“Then why not fucking say something?”

“Couldn’t.”

Gordon raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“It’s like - uh -” They smack their lips again. “Like a fucking, uh, dam. The thing beavers make. Beaver can’t get through.”

At least he’s dropped the Mario metaphor. “Okay. So. Let me recap. You…didn’t want to be the villain, you were trying to get me to...quit? And when that didn’t work, you intentionally pissed me off so I’d kill you at the end ‘cause you couldn’t actually say what was going on.”

“Basically, yeah.”

Well, fuck. When Gordon says it out loud like that it’s…actually kinda sad.

No. No! He’s not gonna start feeling bad for fucking Benrey of all people. Gordon balls his fists, pushing down every stupidly sympathetic emotion he’s having. “Okay. Let’s backtrack a bit. Why are you telling me all this?”

Benrey shrugs. “Got tired of waiting for you to kill me.”

“I already said, I’m not -”

Benrey glitches. His face disappears for a second, replaced by a cracked and decayed skull, and then suddenly he’s normal again. A shriek tears its way out of Gordon as he backs away from them, almost slamming into the wall. For a second he’s back in Xen, watching Benrey’s massive form glitch and deform, and then he shakes his head and reminds himself that he’s in his apartment and Benrey is at least the size of a human being. “What the hell was that?”

“How come you don’t believe me but I’m supposed to believe you? Huh? Gordon got trust issues? Gordon skeptic man?”

“I think I’ve got more than enough reasons to have fucking trust issues, man!” He’s still pressed against the wall, hands curling into fists.

“But Benrey’s gotta trust you. Benrey’s not allowed to be scared.”

“Are you saying you’re fucking afraid of me?”

Benrey’s Sweet Voice is high pitched and vaguely dark, like a bubble made of shadows. Gordon can’t translate, but it feels like a yes.

“You know what? I think I’m okay with that.” Gordon peels himself off the wall, stepping closer to Benrey, holding out his prosthetic hand. “Now you get how I felt the entire fucking time we were in Black Mesa.”

The bubbles get darker, a deep, almost dripping black. “‘m sorry,” Benrey mumbles.

Gordon blinks. “What?”

They repeat themself, louder this time. “I’m sorry. For. Uh. Everything?”

The only thing Gordon can think to say is, “What the fuck?”

“I’m tryna be nice!” Benrey says. He’s pouting. Like a little kid or some shit. “It’s called an apology, bro.”

“I know what a fucking apology is! I just wasn’t expecting one from you, of all people!”

“I don’t wanna be bad,” Benrey says quietly. “Can I go now?”

“What?” Fuck, with everything else they’ve been...arguing about, Gordon forgot this whole thing started because Benrey was trying to leave. “No!”

Benrey opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to say something, but all that comes out is Sweet Voice. A lot of Sweet Voice. Black to red, gray to clear, dripping black, translucent dark, swirling around him until Gordon can’t even see Benrey under all the bubbles. When they fade...Benrey’s still standing there, and he’s crying.

Gordon’s never seen him cry before.

“I don’t wanna be bad,” Benrey says again. “This was supposed to be my chance to be not bad.” They scrub at their eyes, turning away from Gordon. “This - this is sucks.”

Fuck.

He doesn’t want to feel bad. He doesn’t want to feel sympathetic. Benrey spent the entire time they were in Black Mesa trying to fuck with Gordon, and a few tears don’t erase that.

But.

“I believe you,” Gordon says. Benrey turns back around.

“Wha?”

“I believe you,” Gordon says again. “That you didn’t wanna...do everything that you did.” He pauses, closing his eyes for a second. “And - I’m sorry too.”

Benrey stares. Does not blink. Continues to not blink as the silence drags on, until Gordon feels like he has to say something else.

“I kinda...assumed you were a piece of shit from the beginning. Didn’t really give you a chance, I guess. So. I’m sorry for all of that, and for the whole, killing you thing.”

“You don’t gotta apologize for that,” Benrey mumbles. He’s still not blinking, eyes wide. “Uh. Thanks.”

“And - if you really wanna leave…” Gordon sighs. He still doesn’t trust Benrey, not in the way he trusts Tommy and Dr. Coomer and even Bubby. But. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

“If I stay are you gonna…be less mad? Less Gordon Angy Momence?”

“I’ll - I’ll try.”

“I, uh. I think I’ll stay.”

“I’m gonna -” Fuck, he’d been planning on getting up before this. He’d been all ready to start his day. Yeah, fuck that. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Gordon sleepman,” Benrey says, nodding his head. He taps his fingers together. “Hey,” he says, holding his hands up. “You wanna. Uh. Hug?”

He’s not even gonna try to understand what’s happening now. “You know what? Sure.” He steps forward and lets Benrey wrap his arms around him, and after a moment, wraps his around them. It’s…not entirely unpleasant. Benrey is a good bit shorter than Gordon, so with them leaning in against his chest he ends up with his head perched on theirs, hat scratching his chin a bit. Benrey’s arms are thick and strong, and the way he’s holding Gordon should be terrifying but somehow it’s not.

He steps back after a minute, scrubbing at his face again. “Cool. Uh. Poggers,” Benrey says, and Gordon rolls his eyes but he’s smiling a little despite himself.

“Good - well, it’s not night anymore, but. You get the idea. I’m gonna go pass out.”

“Cool,” Benrey says again.

Gordon stumbles back into his room, collapsing into bed. It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had since before Black Mesa.

sweet voice translations:

gray to clear: i shouldn’t be here

black to red: i should be dead

dirty blue: i don’t wanna hurt you

dark like the shade: i’m afraid

black and tarry: i’m sorry

#half live vr but the ai is self aware #hlvrai #gordon feetman #benrey #benry #cora writes #jump the fence #ghost out of his grave

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reinahwanggg · 4 years ago

Text

SuperDad 》 Kim Taehyung

♡pairing: taehyung x oc ♡

♡word count: 1,962 words ♡

♡warnings: it's honestly too cute, taehee is a sweetheart, this isn't a warning but just an adherence to everyone the OC is a person of color, i'll probably make a part two to go about all the details of how taehyung and taehee handled the 48 hours without alyssa, OH and taehee cried seeing his mom leave, just about it. mentions of taehyung not being around as much as he wants to. mentions of what seems to be separation anxiety. ♡

♡genre: established relationship, dad au, idol!tae, fluff, taehee is a cutie you just wanna keep, Inspiration from the return of superman ♡

♡summary: taehyung's back from tour and ready to spend the next two days, with his son, taehee. without his mother there, of course because it's show protocol. ♡

♡a/n: i got inspired by the many dad aus i see and read, like omg they are honestly so cute. also got inspired by reading a fic/ one-shot of jaehyun being on the return of superman with his wife and child and that was the C U T E S T. hope you guys enjoy, also, i added gifs as dividers because i did this on my phone and this is kinda long. credits to all the owners of each gif used ♡

the camera pans in on a sort of empty living room, a wolf gray sofa sat in front of the equivalently colored wall, a small black squared table is there beside it, and along it is a picture that is covered by a cute emoticon.

littered around the vast space are various cream colored tents, with camera lenses peaking out, various fingers and hands holding them. the camera then passes over to the television, sat on a small drawer, that has glass doors, littered with many DVDs and vinyls, and the seemingly 75" television is off, unsurprisingly.

it then shows the kitchen, monochromatic colors is the aesthetic it seems, as a modern black gas stove is there, with the gray smart refrigerator alongside the counter that separates the two appliances. there is a four slot toaster and a kettle on the aforementioned counter, and a little magnetic knife strips which held all the knives, tongs and spatulas that are often used. the cabinets are a brilliant pearl color, various cute stickers decorate it, some looking old and torn and others looked like they just came out the pack.

it then shows the lounge room and a bedroom respectively, before a dark room comes into view. the emcees had already asked if there was a new superman for the show, and wondered who the new family was. they adored the little height chart on the door casing, and the little furniture and things here and there. they even tried to figure out what the shelf of things were, since it was covered with another cute emoticon.

•~•

back in the room, a little head peaks up at the sound of the doorbell ringing, looking left and right, probably trying to figure out what century it was. then the phone rang and the little human grabs the cellular device in their hands, knuckle sliding it over, and it amazes the emcees.

in the cutest voice the little human could muster, they answer the phone.

"good morning, hello?" the little guy answers in english, and the emcees are practically digging all of this up.

the voice then answers, but the words is silenced. it then shows as the hair of the tiny human bounces, the phone is dropped, footfalls are quiet, yet swift, and the door to the room opens. the tiny human can be slightly seen, and they run out, before running back to close the door.

various camera angles appear, for how fast the little one is running past everything, and the human passes the living room area, taking a left, and then a right and stands in front of the door, then he moves to the little crate beside it and sits patiently. after a few seconds, it opens, and a tall man enters the apartment with a few suitcases and a duffle bag, another cute emoticon doing it's job as it hides the man's face.

the human is practically bouncing on the crate at this point, his round, yet sharp eyes creasing up, his tiny white teeth on display as his arms frail around. the man rests down his luggage, before pretending he can't see the smaller male, and looks around for said human being.

"dad!" the small boy shouts, and the emoticon is finally off of the male's face as he smiles, the signature boxy grin his fans has come to love is on display as he picks up the little rascal, and whisper shouts a little "taehee!" just as enthusiastically as the child had to his father.

the emcees are shocked, like genuinely, you could hear it in the way they go "waaaaaa. it's bts' v!" and it switches again, showing the superstar, alongside his glowing son, and a pregnant lady beside him.

the lady is a mixture of slim and thick, her thighs all packed and gracious as it presses on the seat and shows beneath the fabric of her dress. said dress is long, with a flowy skirt and a sort of baggy top, black as the base with various flowers, colored rose pink and sky blue, along the skirt, past the waist, and some on the top. the belly she sports is a big one, and she look like she was ready to pop in no time. her hair was dark brown and kinky, with golden brown tips as the curl pattern shows perfectly, resting on her back. her light brown eyes get lost behind her lids as she smiles, her nose is scrunched up, smile lines along the eyes and her lips is outstretched, the craters in her face deepens, the dimples popping out perfectly, and the little boy shows his own.

her caramel skin glows, just like her aura is, and the boy glows equally with his honey toned skin as well, as he sits on his father's lap, both of them rubbing her stomach.

"hello everyone, i'm Kim Taehyung, aka V from BTS and this is my family."

Q: How old is your kid?

"He's two and a half years old, but if we're gonna get technical, he's 30 months."

Q: How long have you two been married?

"Four years. We've been together for five, and got married a year into the relationship because i couldn't resist her in the slightest."

"Lol, likewise."

"I told you stop saying LoL out loud lyssa. it's outdated by now."

"iT's oUtDaTeD bY nOw. i do what i want tae."

the questions and the bantering went on for another minute and a half, taehee getting in on it to, and him and his mother verbally gangs on taehyung, causing him to pout.

"we were actually kind of hesitant to be on the show. for many reasons, obviously, but mainly because we weren't sure if we wanted taehee, taesung and taeri in the public eye as yet. or at all. i wanted to show them on my own time, wanted to wait until they were old enough to understand this world to decide whether or not they wanted to be known as our children. after a while, and with the help of my hyungs, jiminie and kookie, we decided to take part in it anyways. we hope you guys take care of us."

Q: Woah, you guys are having twins?

"Haha, yes. we found out during the gender reveal that the doctor forgot to tell us we were having two babies. good thing we planned to always buy double the clothes and necessities for whenever i get pregnant. i say that because this little beast is unpredictable."

•~•

the video then switches back to the house, with taehee and taehyung sitting on the couch, the television on, with them watching a show, taehee swaying from side to side with the music, taehyung singing along quietly, and they watch the show until lyssa exits from the room and pecks both of their foreheads, before going straight to the jù,kitchen.

she tells alexa to play an older song by her husband's group, and the intro plays as soon as the show finishes, taehee immediately running into the kitchen to help and sing along to the song. meanwhile, taehyung is in the living room, his phone in front of his face as he smiles softly, both him and the person he's seemingly on the call with is silent as they listen to the two on their seemingly daily routine.

"you want to help make the pancakes dylan?" lyssa asks in english to her son, and he peeps an excited 'yes mama' over the voice of hoseok and his rap for hold me tight.

she smiles at him, and they make the pancakes from scratch, him calling out the ingredients in english, and she helps him in pronounciation and correcting his mistakes with a chuckle and a smile. while the pancakes are frying, she kindly asks taehyung to go to the store at the end of the corner to get some hershey's cookie n creme chocolate bars and a jar of dill pickles for her cravings.

she makes sure they all eat, before getting ready and going to head out for the allocated forty eight hours set. taehee follows her like a little duckling as she slightly waddles through the living room, with a purse on her shoulder, and she shoves the car keys in the bag, before turning around and ruffling his hair.

"be a good boy for mama, okay? you get to spend two whole days with papa and your uncles! isn't that fun?" taehee does seem happy, but you can tell, deep behind his nod, he is secretly praying that alyssa doesn't go. that she stays with both of them for the two days, just like old times, but she had let him watch the show, and he knows that's not the case. when she turns to leave, taehee grabs the hem of her dress, and she turns around, meeting his sharp cognac eyes, and it looks like he was trying his best not to cry.

"oh, dee, c'mere," she starts, lifting him up in her arms as the tears finally fall. she knew her taehee as a strong boy, but there are times where he can't help, but cry. dad was always to the company or on tour for as long as taehee knew him, so he built a special relationship with his mom. he knew he promised her to be strong, and to be a big boy, for when she was going to leave, but he hopes, that two days doesn't turn into a long time, like dad sometimes does.

"now what did we discuss dee?"

"th-that i w-was gonna be a b-big boy. th-that i w-was gonna stay w-with dad un-until mama g-gets back."

"right, we did agree to that, but you look like you wanna come with me. do you want to come with me, or are you gonna make me proud and spend time with papa? he misses you, you know. every day, he calls, sometimes when you're asleep and he always tells me how he can't wait to come home and have you by his side. do you wanna let papa down? let mama down? let your uncles down? or are we gonna be a big boy and be on our best behavior to make mama, papa and uncles proud?"

"i'm gonna be a big boy. i'll stay with dad and we'll have so much f-fun mama, you'll want to come back."

"i'm sure of it dee. now, papa is in the room waiting for snuggles. you know how to work the phone, so call me whenever. okay?"

"okay mama. i love you lots!"

"i love you more than lots!"

"i love you more than your lots! have fun mama, but not too much fun or i'll be mad at you."

alyssa gasps, pouting a bit, before smiling once taehee plants a big fat kiss on her cheek and smush them together like she does to him. they smile at each other, before she rests him down, and she waves at him until she is nowhere to be seen, exiting the door and off to go about her day. taehee rushes inside the room, knocking on the door, before opening it in at the sound of 'come in' and smiles at his dad, running and climbing up the bed to lay beside his dad as he talks to uncle jin.

"oh, it's little tae! how's it going buddy?" jin asks, from the other side of the phone, and taehee smiles, the dimples making another appearance, before answering his uncle. taehyung looks at his son, eyes glimmering with pure love, as he thinks that he can finally spend time with his son.

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wrightiverse · 4 years ago

Text

Hello and this is me annotating/doing director's commentary for the last chapter of Crowd as a victory lap. There's no indulgence like self-indulgence.

“I’ll just make my hot young boyfriend help me,” Robin teases. “When I’m eighty, you’ll only be sixty-nine.”

I love to take a thing from the beginning of a story/scene and revisit it at the end. In this case, 'hot young boyfriend' is a light callback to 'sexy-ass, significantly younger boyfriend' back at the beginning when Robin was sad about the empty nest situation. This is, I think, the first time we specify their exact age gap. It is also the exact age gap I have with my own partner, because I’m very lazy like that. (None of this was written with any reference to what's gone on in the podcast over the last year or so, which is good because it sounds like the whole aging thing for Glenn could have gotten really confusing. Wrightiverse Glenn came back right after Ravenloft, none of that other stuff happened to him. It's all good. Canon is optional.) * * * * *

It’s not like the men in his family have much luck in that area, anyway; Glenn never met either of his grandfathers, and Bill didn’t make it much past fifty.

I think Meryl actually lived for hundreds of years and is still alive in Faerun and they should totally meet, but Glenn doesn’t know all that. * * * * *

Aesthetics aside, it didn't seem like there was much for Glenn to look forward to in middle age and beyond. Nick would grow up and wouldn’t need his dad anymore, and Glenn would be all alone.

From Glenn’s second chapter in Crowd, when Robin is sad about Connor leaving for college:

“I want him to be independent,” Robin is trying to explain into Glenn’s knee, “but also I don’t want to be all alone.” Glenn flicks his ear reproachfully. “You're not all alone. I’m right here, dumbass.”

Sometimes what seems obvious when we're explaining it to somebody else doesn't feel as obvious when it's our turn. Admittedly, Glenn is coming to this with a different set of experiences than Robin is. More on that later. * * * * *

His career would go to shit, because getting old only works for rock stars if they’re actually bluesmen in disguise, like Keith Richards.

I think I got this theory from something Chuck Klosterman wrote, probably Fargo Rock City. * * * * *

He starts his grounding exercise without even thinking about it. Five things he can see: one, an information sign for the city park. Two, a freshly-painted bike rack. Three, some big public art sculpture that looks like a giant rusty hairbrush…

This particular grounding exercise came up earlier in Crowd. I didn't make it up for the story, it's real and many people find that it works well. Feel free to try it! The exercise he alludes to when they’re on the beach, creating ‘safe spaces’ out of vivid memories with lots of sensory details, is also based on a real thing. Lauren, his therapist, is named after the therapist who worked with me on my own PTSD and taught me that and a lot of other good stuff. At least based on my own experience, I can highly recommend EMDR if you can find a good practitioner. * * * * *

It was a hella sweet gesture from the kid.

Connor’s introduction in Name has to do with him carrying shirts past Glenn, and one of those shirts becomes important later to Robin. Given how big the GC3 actually seems to be, I don’t think Connor did the majority of their merch. I assume they used a regular printer and Connor just did small runs of fun custom stuff when he feels like it, meaning not much changed after Glenn quit. * * * * *

Of course, Robin is the only member of the family wearing the shirt right now, because Robin is the only one who doesn’t care that it isn’t cool to wear merch from the gig at the gig itself.

I have no idea how widespread the ‘no wearing merch from the gig at the gig’ thing is, but that’s the rule I learned. * * * * *

Robin is chatting away about something, but it’s hard to follow with all the noise and distraction around them. Glenn decides to let it ride, and allows himself to zone out and just watch Robin talk.

As requested by my brilliant co-author, this is a callback to when Robin spaces out watching Glenn talk on their first date. Both Robin and Glenn are consistently very prone to tuning out when the other one is talking, but neither of them particularly care. As Glenn says on their dinner date - sometimes a man just wants to think out loud for a while and get a ‘hell yeah’ in response. * * * * *

It's vastly unfair that Robin looks so good in direct sunlight, but he probably pulls it off because he's the one person in Los Angeles who isn't trying to look younger than he actually is.

Glenn should spend less time in WeHo. * * * * *

There’s already more gray in Robin’s hair than when they met, although Glenn will only accept partial blame for that. Either way, the old man’s on track to be a full-on silver fox before he even hits fifty.

It felt necessary to drop a reminder that despite how Glenn talks about him, Robin is not actually that damn old. I mean, I'm sure that sounds very old to some of you, but when you're in your mid-to-late 30s like Glenn, somebody in their late 40s is not unreasonably decrepit. I think it has more to do with their respective energies than actual birthdays. * * * * *

“What is it?” Robin has noticed Glenn’s gaze, and he touches his own face to check if there's something on it.

Glenn grins. "Nothing, just ogling."

This is another callback to their first date:

“Do I have something on my face?” Glenn asks, and rubs at his mouth.

“No, you’re good.” Robin says. “You’re great.”

Because I adore a full-circle moment, that's why. * * * * *

“Your eyes were intense," Robin laughs. "It looked like you were going to start growling redrum at me."

This is my own fault for saying in the last chapter that Glenn was rambling about Kubrick moon landing conspiracies when he comes back from his walk. I tried like seven different ways to get them on the subject. I still don’t know if it feels natural. * * * * *

Glenn stabs an accusatory finger toward Robin. “Did you suggest not doing the show because you knew I’d argue with you and talk myself into doing it?”

Can’t outro this story without at least a little argayment.

Glenn usually finds him in the bathroom at the end of the night, looking grumpy about being up past his bedtime and holding some girl’s hair back while she barfs.

With what we've learned about Robin over the course of Crowd, we now have the context to understand that for Robin, this drunk girl is very much the ghost of Christmas Past. I don't imagine he goes to many of these parties.

* * * * *

It doesn’t bother Glenn a bit. Life isn’t a movie, the cheerleader doesn’t have to put on leather pants and start smoking in order to get her bad boy and her happily ever after.

I know that there’s more going on in Grease than that, but consider: would Glenn know that?

* * * * *

He and Robin are very different people, and they always will be. They don’t make sense on the surface, but they both know who they are, and who they are fits together perfectly.

Circling back to Robin at the end of Name, expressing his anxieties:

Robin rests his forehead on the steering wheel, avoiding Glenn’s eyes. “Like I don’t make sense for you, and everybody can see it.”

Some of the circles that I closed in Crowd were ones that were opened in Crowd, but some went back further. * * * * *

Love bubbles up in Glenn like a shaken-up soda, and he finds himself standing up suddenly and grabbing Robin’s shirt collar to tug him down for a kiss.

I wanted to mirror the ‘Hot Dad surges forward to kiss him, hard’ thing from the beginning, but given the established height difference, Glenn can’t just go for it unannounced unless he’s gonna stand tippy-toe. Thank you @whotaughtyougrammar for this art of what happens when Glenn tries the collar-tug and Robin doesn't notice fast enough.

* * * * *

Robin is caught off guard and stumbles half a step back, managing at the last second not to drop his drink. “One second, sweetheart, just one second. You surprised me. What was that about?”

Glenn gives him a lopsided grin. “Luck?”

“Oh, well, then. For luck.”

Luck and how to change it is a big theme throughout the whole series, both in the sense of ‘good fortune/unearned blessings’ and ‘random, unforeseen chance.’ More later about that. * * * * *

When Glenn presses his tongue forward to slip between Robin’s lips, he tastes lemon and sugar.

Same as the first time they kissed, when he’d been drinking whiskey sours.

* * * * *

“Right, yeah,” Robin breathes, but he doesn’t let Glenn out of his arms quite yet. “You know,” Robin adds, “Nick was telling me earlier that he’s going to sleep over at Grant’s tonight.”

So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight * * * * *

She’d found him there, and she'd saved him, like she always did.

We didn’t know Morgan’s name when we first wrote the scene where they discussed her in Name, so we wrote around it as though Glenn was reluctant to name her out loud. We maintained this throughout the rest of Crowd except for the line where Glenn says that he’ll tell Robin about the phone call with Morgan. Felt right. Her presence is very much felt but Glenn, at least, is not in the habit of talking about her unless he has no other option. * * * * *

They ran out of the venue and down the street, hand in hand and giggling like kids playing hooky.

@shrack was the one who began writing our Glenn with very physical methods of showing affection. I liked it a lot as a vibe and carried on with it. He and Morgan are also very young here. Glenn would be 21 or 22 at the oldest, which is barely older than Connor is now. I've always attributed some of his immaturity to the fact that he became a parent pretty young. (Glenn is 36 when Name starts and Nick is 13, meaning Nick was born when Glenn was 23 and probably conceived when Glenn was 22.)

* * * * *

It was like falling in love with every single person in the crowd, all at once. Glenn felt like he would never be lonely again as long as he could have that feeling.

Facing twenty thousand of your friends / how can anyone feel so lonely? * * * * *

By then, the GC3 performed in venues so cavernous that Glenn couldn’t see anything outside his own spotlight. He could hear the audience roar approval at him, making a wall of sound that he could feel like a physical force. It was loud enough to drown out the screaming in his head, loud enough to let him forget that she wasn’t out there among them. It was the closest he could get to forgetting, so Glenn did it as much as he could.

Part of a success that never ends / But I’m thinking about you only... * * * * *

Slowly but surely, he’d been learning how to go through life with his mind and heart focused on someone else’s well-being. It didn’t come naturally: that wasn’t the kind of family either of them knew. Still, they’d promised each other that they could do better than how they were raised.

I am never here for iterations of this dynamic that assume Glenn is the fuck-up and Morgan was the perfect parent. They both became parents at exactly the same moment, you know? The world does not need one more story with an incompetent sitcom dad and his smoking-hot wife who does all the actual parenting. * * * * *

Nick is long since asleep, but Adele fucking Close has stayed up until these sickening hours of the early morning.

Conveniently, Glenn’s brain has overwritten all his memories with the correct name and pronouns for Nick, because writing around it is a pain in the ass otherwise. * * * * *

“Hello, Glenny.”

Bill calling Glenn “Glenny” that time at Ravenloft really stuck with me. I don’t know if they ever revisited that in the actual podcast, but it was so slimy and chilling somehow. * * * * *

“I fucked up,” Glenn says bluntly, and his mother narrows her eyes ever so slightly at his cursing.

Glenn gets in his own head early in Crowd about comparing himself to Penny, and Robin later worries about putting himself on ‘the same level’ as Morgan. Neither of them are quite galaxy-brained enough to realize that there’s more than one person in Glenn’s life who uses a lot of terms of endearment for him, considers themselves old-fashioned, and wishes everybody wouldn’t swear so much. * * * * *

“Thank you, mother,” Glenn grits out. He sounds absolutely nothing like himself, not that she minds. “I appreciate your help.”

I assume that part of the reason Glenn has such a hard time offering genuine apologies is that when he was growing up, too much of his apologizing was forced rather than sincere. * * * * *

“You are out of chances. If you continue to neglect this child, I will get the state involved, and I will take custody myself. I’ve already spoken to the Freemans, and I have their full support.”

Morgan’s parents are not mentioned very often and don’t seem to be a big part of the Close boys’ lives. I imagine that whatever tenuous relationship Glenn had forged with them post-accident was pretty much destroyed by Adele forming this alliance with them and telling Glenn about it. * * * * *

Her patient demeanor is meant to remind him that she's here to clean up his mess again, like she always does, and his proper response is humble and apologetic gratitude.

And that is why Robin being patient can set Glenn off so bad, such as after the bike accident when they were arguing:

Glenn doesn’t really hear most of what Robin’s saying. It’s all just soothing, pointless stuff in that obnoxious tone that means Robin thinks he’s the smart, calm, mature one here and Glenn’s the immature asshole who lost his temper again. He’d never say it, but Glenn can tell what he’s thinking.

I hope it came across clearly in that part that Robin doesn’t actually see the situation that way and isn’t saying or thinking anything to that effect, but Glenn feels like he is because he’s had this somatic/emotional reaction triggered. Spatially he's arguing with Robin, but his body and a lot of his brain thinks he's arguing with his mom. Trauma can be like that. * * * * *

His mother keeps talking like he didn’t say a word. “We can all stay in each others’ lives, Glenny. I’m not trying to cut you out, I’m trying to help you. I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family.”

Sometimes the monster will tell you it's not a monster. * * * * *

From that night forward, Glenn will always know that he’s not a good person, because he almost takes his mother up on the offer.

I don’t think being tempted by this offer means Glenn’s a bad person, but we write Glenn as somebody who wishes he was a good person but is really afraid that he isn’t. He was at a very low point here and he needed help. Feeling drawn to the only help on offer, even if it was from a toxic source, is pretty understandable. * * * * *

"I'll get Nicky ready for school tomorrow and you can sleep in. We’ll finish talking about this when you feel better.”

Man, I hate that abuser thing when they start being sweet as soon as you muster the energy to fight back. You get a little bit of steam built up and then they dodge you like a matador so that it dissipates again. To be clear, Nicky isn't Nick's deadname or anything, it's just the somewhat baby-ish diminutive form that Adele uses for him, like how she calls Glenn "Glenny." * * * * *

“Family is important,” his mother says sadly. Just before she closes the door, she gives him a look that’s an exquisite mix of regret, tender affection, and a tiny spark of hope. Adele would have been a great actress, but Glenn can’t imagine who that particular performance was for.

Performance skills run in the family and Adele comes by her acting chops honestly, although she doesn’t know it. I picture one of those situations where a young woman from a good background gets pregnant by some rakehell actor and her family covers up the scandal by raising the baby as a new sibling. That would mean that as long as Adele’s “older sister” never spilled the beans, nobody in their family at this point knows that they’re related to Meryl. If Nick ever decides to do one of those ancestry DNA tests, things are going to get interesting. * * * * *

He certainly didn’t find it very compelling. Family? All the family he will ever need is sleeping soundly down the hallway, tiny arms wrapped tight around a stuffed plush Babar.

I wanted Nick to have a stuffed animal that was sort of his parallel to Mr. Lion. Robin is drinking with Mr. Lion in the beginning of Crowd when he’s upset about losing Connor to college, and Mr. Lion appears again when Glenn comes in to talk to Nick and Connor after Robin’s accident.

“I… I guess I don’t know.” Nick looks down, avoiding eye contact by staring into the darkness under Connor’s bed. Mr Lion is under there in a clear plastic box, along with some other stuffed animals. Even when Nick first met Connor, the stuffed animals were already banished underneath the bed instead of on top of it. But over the years, Connor’s never thrown them away.

Mr. Lion is one of the various ways we played with the theme that Connor is, as Nick puts it, “somewhere between a kid and an adult.” Connor is a very confident and clever guy, but you don't magically get a giant box of maturity and life experience on your 18th birthday. At various points, he asks both Nick (at the campus concert) and Glenn (after Robin’s accident) to try to understand that he's still growing and figuring stuff out. Nick has definitely been deprived of some chances to be a kid, but in some ways Connor has as well. He started hanging out with Glenn after Penny and Robin split up, and although he and Nick obviously hit it off, Connor was closer to Glenn for a while. In a different universe, that might not have turned out as well - I mean, tell me you wouldn't side-eye that arrangement in real life. I sure would. Robin just sort of flings his hands up at the role Connor plays for the Close boys, but I strongly suspect that shit would not have flown on Penny’s watch.

It’s funny - he thought Connor was so grown-up when they met, but the guy was only 16 when the Wrights moved in next door. He wasn’t much older by the time he was over at the Close place almost every day, helping Nick with homework or cleaning questionable leftovers out of the fridge. It didn’t strike Nick as weird at the time, It was just another thing about his life that wasn’t like anybody else’s. He never questioned what was in it for Connor. Back then, Nick didn’t even realize how lonely he himself was - he wouldn't have figured out why a kid whose parents had just gotten divorced might want to come over to the chaotic Close apartment to get away from the quiet in his own home.

Everybody was doing their best, and everything worked out for the best, but Connor over the course of the stories is sorting out the balance that works for him in terms of responsibility and playfulness. Fortunately, now that he has less responsibility for Nick, he can enjoy Nick more as a friend and brother. In Name, Robin and Glenn both sort of assume Connor will act as a babysitter to Nick while they go off on their first date; by Crowd, Connor is hanging out playing Smash with Nick and Grant as the gents get ready for their dinner date, but he's there socially, as a peer. Him being goofier and more immature also frees up Nick to do the same, since if Connor is cool and Connor is being playful, then "it's not a little kid thing, it's a bro thing" They both get to be kids now in a way that they weren't before, and I love that for them. Anyway, the point of Mr. Lion and why I wanted to give Nick a stuffed animal as well was to draw the parallel between the sons more directly and to anchor the stuffed animal component. So far there hadn't been any moment in which an actual kid was holding an actual stuffed animal.

#to be continued #wrightiverse

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luvjoong · 5 years ago

Note

Can I please have 1 and 48 with joong

hello and thank you for requesting! i’m so so so genuinely sorry for the delay, i’m gonna be honest,, the only reason why it wasn’t up sooner was because i thought i posted it ): i obviously thought wrong because it was still in my drafts lol... but i am extremely happy with the outcome and i hope you i didn’t disappoint for such a long wait!!

butterflies and red cheeks.

✦ 1 & 48 ; fluff ; kim hongjoong

you turned your head slightly to read the time on the clock, about 1:30 in the morning, meaning you had been tossing and turning for the past two hours. your eyes were heavy, but you weren’t restless enough to sleep. the darkness swallowed every little object in your room, but it wasn’t enough to help you close your eyes and drift off into the nothingness of the night.

your eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling above you, getting lost in your thoughts. your ears were open to any little sound they heard: from an owl outside to the small, tired footsteps of your apartment neighbor’s son running to his mother and father’s room to cuddle because of a bad dream. there was an ambulance car faint in the distance, its noise getting lower and lower the farther it drove.

it was one of those nights where the hardest thing to do was to close your eyes and fall asleep.

your lips parted and you groaned, turning onto your side and began to stare at your phone wondering if you should call him. him. kim hongjoong. the kim hongjoong who made your stomach turn at any given moment with just a single smile. the kim hongjoong who always made your cheeks turn the slightest shade of red (of course, he notices and continues to make you flustered). the kim hongjoong whose laugh was contagious, making you fall even harder for him. the kim hongjoong who is extremely gentle to anyone who starts a conversation with him but still knows the right time to crack a small joke. you could talk about him forever, especially after what happened just a few hours ago.

hongjoong had asked you to keep him company while he was home alone working on his lyrics for his new song. you gladly said yes. except the night went in a different direction than planned after cracking a few light jokes to make him smile. after an hour he ended up play fighting with you multiple times, putting his note pad and computer down to squish your body into the couch with his own while you laughed and hit at him to stop. it was endless joke after joke, smile after smile, breathless laugh after laugh.

there was one minute when hongjoong and you finally calmed down, you caught him looking at you so lovingly, his eyes scanning your face with such admiration that it made your heart swell with joy. he was too stuck in his thoughts to process the fact that you were staring back at him that he didn’t realize it until minutes later. that was when hongjoong gave up on his lyrics and you both had a fun rest of the night together until you parted ways and said goodbye.

everyone knew about your heavy feelings for this boy, hongjoong himself was skeptical as well. he flirted with you once or twice, taking note of your reaction.

just thinking about him made your heart jump, and you have had enough of it. you shot up in your bed, hands bunching the sheets. i’m gonna do it. i’m gonna call him.

you stood up quickly, and turned on the lights. yielding your eyes because of the sudden bright light, you begun to pace around the foot of your bed. i’m calling him! no i’m not, what if he’s sleeping or—oh, you shitface, just do it! just call him!

you quickly picked up your phone from the side table next to your messy bed, putting in the password quickly and pressing the green icon to open your most recent calls. your heart began to race with the same questions as before, but you pushed them away and pressed hongjoong’s contact before you could decide not to.

ring

your heart stopped. the ringing disappeared and was replaced with the sound of him.

“hey, y/n, why are you up so late?” he sounded wide awake, making your heart jump. you smiled to yourself, not realizing you hadn’t answered. “y/n?”

“oh, hi sorry. i just wanted to call you because i had a really fun time tonight with you!” you said way too ecstatic.

he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “me too. i don’t think i’ve ever laughed that hard with someone before.”

you giggled and then followed silence.

“hey, you do know that it’s almost 2 in the morning, right? didn’t you say you have work early tomorrow? you should get some sleep, dummy.” your heart jumped at the sincerity in his voice.

“look, you aren’t busy right now are you?” you blurted out, scared of his response. “i know it’s kind of really late, but i really need to talk to you. plus, you know how much i love my nightly walks.”

hongjoong chuckled to himself and flipped through his notebook for a few seconds in silence, thinking of what to say. “i’m still working on these damn lyrics, but—” you smiled “—it can wait. i love being with you, even if it is...” he paused, “1:57 am. i’ll be outside of your building in 15.”

the call ended without a proper goodbye and you threw your phone on the bed, quietly squealing, knowing there were sleeping families near you.

you left your quiet apartment building to be greeted with a wide eyed, innocent smirk from hongjoong in the dark. his nose and cheeks were painted a soft red and his hair perfectly messy. his clothes were the same as when you messed around with him earlier, gray sweatpants and a white long sleeve t-shirt.

he rustled his hands through his hair, remaining eye contact with you, the slight smile still painted on his lips. your heart skipped a beat, seeing him so perfectly comfortable.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry! how long were you waiting out here?” you asked as he cleared his throat, scanning the building behind you.

“no worries, i just got here as soon as you walked out,” he slowly put his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips. “so, uh,” he tensed his shoulders and turned his gaze back to your eyes and was met with them staring back at him. “shall we walk, m’lady?” he moved his arm, motioning with his head for you to put your arm through his.

“that was disgusting, please don’t ever say that again,” you laughed and connected your arms together.

you hadn’t brought up what you planned to tell him, nor did he ask. knowing him, he probably had forgotten by now because of the corny jokes you’ve shared in the past ten minutes. there were few street lamps lit up, yet it wasn’t dark enough to be scared. the only sounds were stray cat’s footsteps and your own. a light began to flicker, causing you to jump. hongjoong laughed at you and the comfortable silence of the night continued on.

you walked through your small town for a while with little conversation and just enjoying each other’s company. you admired closed shops and listened to the sound of your footsteps in unison with your friend’s, glancing over at him only to lock eyes his that must have already have been looking you.

a small car drove quickly by, lighting up the area and catching hongjoong’s attention. he made a questionable noise, “is that some of the boys? why are they out this late?” you slapped his arm, trying to get his attention before he could call them over— “mingi! wooyoung!” you slapped his arm again, this time earning his attention.

one of the tall, lanky figures turned to your side of the street giving death stares at the both of you. he held a lit cigarette in his hand, inhaling the smoke and passing it off to one of the men next to him. “what did you say to me?” the three others near him turned around to face you two, your heart beginning to race. you had never seen them in this quiet, peaceful neighborhood before. they all looked tall but boney with angry expression. hongjoong obviously upset them, especially the strange man with the up-to-no-good voice.

you told hongjoong to not respond, getting worried that they would kill you both right then and there. you had never experienced anything like this, not even any conversations during the night with strangers. everyone minded their own business. hongjoong agreed and you both started walking again, but you turned your head and the same four men started to walk across the street towards you. you tugged onto hongjoong’s sleeve for him to get the hint that you both should leave.

“y/n, i’m so sorry! i never meant to—”

“it’s okay, but we need to run. now.” you grabbed his hand and took off, hongjoong following close behind you and you both heard the men’s footsteps increase in speed. shit, they’re following you now.

you ran in every possible turn you saw, hoping to lose them but one of them always found you out in the open side walk. they hollered and growled for the both of you to just give up and let them talk to you. your knees were getting extremely weak, hongjoong was panting heavily behind you, and your heart was terrified. that’s when you sped up. something must help you out soon right

just as you turned another corner and they weren’t as close anymore, a small alleyway caught your eye through the darkness because of the glimpse of a cat’s eye sitting right. you hurriedly shooed the cat away quickly, took of your shoe and threw it in a random direction so the men would go chasing after it once they heard the slight sound.

“over there!” you heard one of them groan, and hongjoong pulled you in the small alley with him, chest up against your chest. his eyes grew wide as he looked down at you. they quickly scanned every part of your face once more, eventually returning to meet your gaze. his stare fluttered between your lips and your sparkling eyes as he swallowed and panted. you rested your head on his chest for a brief second, feeling relieved before hearing footsteps again. the way you looked up at him made his knees weak, his eyes softened the longer he looked at you and ignored the current situation you were in.

“no one’s down there, go the other way!” one of them called out dangerously close, hongjoong put his hand over your mouth and you did the same to him. you both remained eye contact, still feeling his chest rise and fall.

once the footsteps died down, he let his hand down slowly, the both of you still slightly gasping for air, neither you or him moving from your current position (not that you could move very much). his eyes stared at your lips this time, not caring that you’ve surely noticed by now.

“so... uh, what did you need to tell me?” his eyes stayed wide, hands pinning yours next to your waist at the brick wall behind you. something in his eyes changed so slightly and you were close enough to see it. he stared at your red nose and puffy cheeks, gulping as he kept fixed his gaze to your slightly parted lips once more. you were pressed against him so tight that he could smell the faint fragrance of your freshly bought perfume that you had sprayed on yourself earlier that day, unfamiliar with the scent. you made his heart flutter all too much.

“fuck it,” he said quietly yo himself yet loud enough for you to hear. you tilted in your head in confusion, but before you could question there were a pair of lips on yours. you immediately recognized the situation and his thought process as he said those words, feeling your heart swell up with love. it happened in slow motion, as if your whole chest swelled up right then and there. you have kissed past lovers before, familiar with the feeling of lips on lips, but this was different and, frankly, confusing.

hongjoong’s lips were heavenly. he tasted of mint and so softly moved his mouth against your patient lips. time felt like it stopped as he wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you even closer than you already were, his other warm hand going to the back of your neck. you felt genuine love run through your every vein and you hoped it wouldn’t leave any time soon. you broke apart to breathe, missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“you wanted that too, right?” he mumbled while barely parting away from your lips, your foreheads pressed together. you left a soft and short kiss on his lips and nodded instead of responding verbally, earning a shy smile from him. “fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

he laughed against your lips at the sight of how red you had become, you laughing in return and keeping the eye contact you’ve held. he pulled away and ran his small hands through his messy pink hair. “this is not the way i’d hoped to tell you that i have feelings for you,” he chuckled and you smiled at his effort to stop smiling.

you only got two hours of sleep that night, but it was all worth it.

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embeanwrites · 4 years ago

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Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

I woke up thankful I had only had two drinks the previous night. I looked at my clock, 9 am. I groaned and got up to shower and get ready. Today I wanted to be in my office before Nines arrived. Maybe I could find some of my old papers and get his opinion on them.

I made it to my office at 10:30, with no sign of Nines. I unlocked my office and began logging onto my computer. I had set my phone facing down and sighed. I had already finished my first five power points for the class and what readings I was going to assign. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep working on power points so it’s less to do later on.

Time seemed to fly by until I heard a knock on the door. Startled, I jumped up.

“Jumpy much, pipsqueak?” I looked back and forth between Gavin and Nines. Why were they both here? Before I could even ask they both sat down and Gavin tossed me a brown paper bag filled with fast food. Nines sat straight up in his chair while Gavin lounged and put his feet on my desk while taking a bit of his burger. “Figured if Nines was gonna be bothering you during lunch the least I could do is get you some food for dealing with him.”

“Well, thank you for the food,” I said as a I began to sit back down and emptied the contents of the bag. It was my go-to order from (favorite fast food place). How did he know? “But Nines isn’t bothering me. I enjoy talking about my research.” Nines gave Gavin a side glance.

“Detective Reed, it’s impolite to put your feet on (Y/n)’s desk.”

“Oh, you two are on a first name basis?” Gavin asked as he settled his feet on the ground. I rolled my eyes.

“Detective Reed, you can call me (Y/n) too.”

“Call me Gavin.”

“How did you know what to get me?” I asked, taking a bite.

“Connor told me.” He grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wall. I couldn’t help but smile. He went through the trouble of asking Connor?

“So, Nines what did you want to discuss today?” I said, taking my eyes off of Gavin and looking at Nines.

“I was curious about what your class will be covering, SOC 345: Android and Human Relationships. It’s new, correct?”

“Yes, it is new. I’ve been working on material and the syllabus all summer. It’s been difficult finding different readings that I didn’t write. The point of the class is to show the changing relationship between androids and humans and where it can go. We’ll probably cover news stories as they come up as well. If we have time, I may cover some of the laws, but I’m still unsure.”

“If you don’t have a lot of readings what are you going to do?” Gavin asked through a mouthful of food.

“I still have some contacts who used to work at Cyberlife, so maybe they’ll be able to come speak to the class. It’s a Tuesday and Thursday class, so at least I don’t have to plan something for everyday. Maybe you guys or my dad and Connor could talk to my class.” I let out a short laugh. The idea of my dad trying to answer college kids questions about how he feels about androids sounded hilarious.

“I’m down.” Nines and I gave Gavin a bewilderment look.

“Detective Reed, I have never seen you go out of your way to help others in a way that doesn’t directly benefit yourself.” Gavin gave Nines a sharp glare.

“I do things for other people all the time! Besides, I’m pretty sure I could get Fowler to give me the day off for something like that.”

“Ah, there’s the benefit.” I said with a laugh. “But I would appreciate it. I’m not sure if that’s the way I’m going to go, but I’ll let you two know.” I took a couple bites of the food Gavin brought me. “Do you have any other questions?” I asked Nines through a mouthful of food. His LED flashed yellow for a second.

“I believe it’s your turn.”

“Oh yeah, let’s see… what’s something you think I should cover in my class?” Nines paused before answering me.

“I do not know what all you’re specifically covering, but I think it may be worth spending time on Markus.” Nines suggested, as Gavin tensed.

“Of course we’re going to talk about Markus! Actually, one of my Cyberlife contacts made him as a gift for Carl Manfred. I’ve always suspected he put something different in Markus’ code, but he’s never admitted to it.” I looked over at Gavin, he was glaring down at the ground with his lips tightly placed together. Did I say something that made him upset?

“We should head back to the precinct, Nines.” Gavin abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and started gathering the trash from lunch.

“Detective Reed, it is only 11:30, we have at least twenty minutes before we should head back. We have time to continue this conversation.” Nines said as he stood up slowly and looked intently at Gavin.

“We have cases to work on. You’re always on my back to get my work done and now you’re giving me shit for trying to do my work!”

“Gavin, I’m sorry if I said something that upset you. I honestly didn’t mean to. Please you guys can stay, we can talk about something else.” I tried and for a second, he looked back at me and I sensed he wanted to stay.

“I have work to do.” He murmured and left my office. Nines quickly looked back at me.

“I will not be able to visit tomorrow. Goodbye Dr. (L/n).” Nines quickly left my office and followed Gavin. I sighed and sat back down. I looked at the food Gavin had brought me, suddenly not hungry. I thought I was making progress with Nines, only to lose it almost immediately and I had no idea what was going on with Gavin. Did he have problems with Markus? Maybe he knew my Cyberlife contact.

I picked up my phone looking to see if I had any messages. I didn’t. Maybe I should text Elijah to see if he knew Gavin, but by the way Gavin reacted I don’t want to accidentally burn my bridge with my best Cyberlife contact. I decided to send Tina a text to see if she wanted to come over tonight, maybe I could get some answers out of her.

Hey, you wanna come over tonight? Pizza and drinks?

Oh hell yeah, I get off at 6. Send me your address and I’ll be there. I’ll get the drinks, you get the pizza?

You know it! See ya then.

After getting home, I placed an order for a large cheese pizza and straightened up my apartment waiting for Tina. Honestly there wasn’t much to clean, but I felt too nervous to just sit and do nothing. When the pizza came it gave me something to do. I placed it on the coffee table and turned on something random for background noise. Finally there was a knock at the door and I raced over and opened it.

“Hey you! I brought hard cider, that okay?” I gestured for Tina to come inside. Her long black hair was pulled into a ponytail and she was wearing a gray flannel with cuffed jeans.

“Of course that’s okay! The pizza’s on the table, let me go grab some plates and a bottle opener.” I walked over to my small kitchen. Tina let out a low whistle.

“Dang this place is small.”

“I know, but it’s just me here. Here’s a plate.” Tina took the plate and we both grabbed two slices of pizza. We sat on the couch across from each other with our legs intertwined.

“Man, I’ve missed you. It’s not every day that your best friend finally moves back home.” Tina said through a mouthful of pizza. I opened one of the apple ciders and took a swig.

“I know, it’s long overdue. I just needed time to figure life out I guess.” I mused.

“And yeah? What did you learn?”

“That grad school is expensive.” I laughed and Tina snorted.

“Okay, smartass. I wanted to ask you yesterday, but why did you come back now? I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re back, but it seems so sudden.” Tina set down her plate and looked at me intently. I sighed and set my plate down too. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“It’s a combination of things, I guess. I’m excited to have my own course at WSU, it was the best offer I received. I miss my mom and my best memories of her are in Detroit. My dad is the only family I have left now.” I sat back up and looked at Tina, she had a sad look in her eyes. “I want to give Detroit another chance.” I gave her a small smile.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Tina bumped her leg into mine.

“I’m glad to be back.” I took a sip of the cider, Gavin’s little outburst in my office still on my mind. “Hey, I have a question.” Tina cocked a brow at me.

“Shoot.”

“Does Gavin have some weird beef with Cyberlife?”

“I mean, he doesn’t really talk about his past. I know he hates androids. He’s warmed up to Nines, but even then, he’s still rude to him. Why?”

“He came to my office today with Nines. He even brought me lunch. I thought the conversation was going well, but when Nines asked about Markus he got really tense and then left.” Tina looked at me with a small smile. “What?”

“You like him, and from the sound of it, he likes you too.” I scoffed.

“Just because I care about someone’s feelings doesn’t mean I like them and I literally told him off in front of the whole precinct, I highly doubt he likes me.” Tina jumped up and started dancing.

“(Y/n) and Gavin sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” I laughed as she pulled me up to dance with her.

“I’ve known him for two days and all my interactions with him have kind of sucked.” Tina stopped dancing and grabbed my face.

“(Y/n), Gavin doesn’t talk to new people. Let alone bring them food for lunch and take drink recommendations.” I laughed.

“Alright, alright. I’m not saying I don’t like him, but I don’t know him enough. Besides, he seems to have…baggage.” Tina’s hands left my face and sat on my shoulders.

“Give him a chance (Y/n). You have to have a date for my wedding!” Tina stuck out her bottom lip and I laughed.

“We’ll see, come on let’s eat that pizza before it gets cold.” We both sat back on the couch and continued catching up. I had forgotten how much I missed being around Tina. I added her to my list of reasons to be happy about coming back to Detroit.

#gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #dbh nines #detroit become human #dbh #RK900 #Tina chen #fan fiction

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acraftedmistake · 5 years ago

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A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 8

This chapter was a TRIP to write I have been so excited to write this chapter for a lil while now fnbdgsf

Hope you guys enjoy!!

It was mainly Aiden and Cassie Rose who told Radar everything that had happened since they left The Shrine Of Eyes; Radar listened keenly and wrote down as much as he possibly could. He’d ask questions along the way and Aiden tried to answer them the best he could or would outright admit he didn’t know yet.

Once Radar had been filled in on everything he wondered if he could be of any use to them. Everyone was on board except for Cassie Rose, who was the most hesitant of the bunch, but Aiden told her they needed all the help they could get, and a friend like Radar with his knowledge being a part of their team would certainly be useful.

After their discussion, Gill made dinner for everybody--though Radar declined--and they all sat around tossing suggestions for what their next course of action should be. Most were picked apart or retracted, no one was certain on what to do. They had ideas such as going to Petra and seeing if she had any items related to portals, but they needed to know what they wanted. Cassie did mention Petra trades items with other people; since the portal had been activated recently, she could have interacted with someone who took part in said-activation. It was definitely worth checking out.

Aiden said they shouldn’t let the books from the library sit around; they could read some before going to bed to spark ideas. While they were all grabbing a book Aiden also suggested they go to bed early. He was met with a few moans.

“I know we all like to stay up late,” Aiden started, “but we’re gonna be busy tomorrow. Plus I’ll be waking you all early.” Aiden grabbed the small journal from Hadrian’s sitting on the kitchen table.

“Come on, Aiden!” Cassie pleaded, “It’s only 8 AM...ish.”

Radar jumped out of his seat, “Have I really been here for nearly 4 hours?!”

He collected his clipboard and pen and held them tightly, hurriedly making his way to the door.

“I apologize for taking so much of your time. I didn’t intend on staying for so long.”

“Radar, don’t apologize.” Aiden said, catching up with his finely suited friend and placed his hand on the door’s knob. “If we didn’t want you here, we would’ve said something.”

Radar glanced at Aiden, who wore a reassuring smile, then to the group behind him. He caught glimpses of Cassie’s look of annoyance before Stella stepped in the way,

“You asked for information and we provided. I believe that’s time well spent!” Stella chimed with certainty. Aiden nodded along to her statement.

“Time flies when you’re having a crisis.” Maya commented, her arms crossed as she leaned against the couch.

Radar nodded and took a deep breath. Aiden opened the door, letting in the crisp air that the early morning offered into their stuffy house. The sky was a calming light blue, not nearly as intense as it’d get in the early afternoon. Radar stepped a foot through the doorway and was about to bid the group farewell when Gill abruptly asked, “Will we see ya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Radar adjusted his glasses, “I’ll be coming over at roughly 7:30.”

“Sounds good.” Aiden said as he watched Radar make his way outside, “Have a good one, Radar.”

“Good day.” Radar did a small bow and began his walk home.

Aiden closed the door and everyone stood still for a few moments listening to Radar’s steps get quieter and quieter till nothing but silence remained.

“Okay. Bed.” Aiden said. Everyone groaned.

Gill, Stella, and Cassie began making their way to their rooms, each with a book in one hand. They talked amongst themselves as Aiden watched them until they were no longer in his field of view. He wasn’t expecting them to fall asleep the second their faces touched a pillow, he was okay with them staying up an extra hour if they wanted to, or if they needed to read.

Ever since Jesse had nearly destroyed Cavern City and escaped prison, no one’s been able to get a goodnight’s sleep. The group would split up and search every building, corner, alleyway, and even checked the nearby forests surrounding Obsidian Town. They’d search while the Sun was high in the sky all the way until it dipped into the east horizon. They’ve asked anybody and everybody if they’ve seen any sign of Jesse and got nothing. Though Aiden and his friends knew there were always liars amongst the crowd, you could never tell who was speaking the truth.

The past several days have been rather… Stressful. And sleepless. Heck, maybe their sleep schedule’s been butchered long before Cavern city. When’s the last time any of them slept well?

They needed the energy for tomorrow.

They couldn’t afford dozing off, getting distracted, nor getting grouchy all because they didn’t want to go to bed at an earlier time. Aiden knew he was guilty of acting in such a manner when he was sleep deprived.

“I’m gonna stay down here for a little.” Maya said to Aiden.

She went over to a chest beside the bookshelf in the living room, took out a couple of swords, an axe, and took them over to the kitchen table.

“Just gonna polish these. Maybe sharpen ‘em.”

She pulled open a drawer in the kitchen, grabbed a thick cloth--roughly the size of her hand--and sat back down. “I’ll go to bed soon. Try to read some as well.”

Aiden nodded before going upstairs.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Radar walked through the barren streets of Obsidian Town, his oxford shoes making small tapping sounds with each step he took. He had started creating his schedule for tomorrow; helping Aiden and doing a tour all in one day would be no easy feat, but nothing a little planning and organization couldn’t fix.

Radar read what he had written down aloud, “At 5:30 I’ll wake up, I should be cleaned and dressed by 6:00… I’d have enough time to have a proper breakfast before meeting with Aiden...”

His voice dwindled and he began tapping the pen against his chin, resisting the urge to chew on the end of it like he usually did. He couldn’t recall what Aiden, Stella, or anybody had planned for tomorrow. Was their next step even decided?

He continued to stare intensely at the unfinished list, walking aimlessly as he thought to himself, ‘They did mention going to Petra’s… Her place is rather far from the town but if our time is used wisely, we should be left with enough time for the tour.’

Radar had never been to Petra’s home before, he only knew it was a distance away when Petra told him herself while visiting a few months ago. If he recalled correctly, her house was in the northwest forest by the mountains. Shouldn’t be too long of a walk.

Hopefully they’d only be going to Petra’s tomorrow. He wouldn’t be able to save the tour for another day if Aiden and his friends decide to pile on more trips. Jesse and Olivia need to get home, after all.

Radar began clicking his pen at a steady pace, ‘Back to their universe…’

Seeing the two of them was a shock; he was amazed to see a deceased friend back in tip-top shape. Maya, Stella, Cassie, Gill, and Aiden all spoke of how they felt dissociated with Olivia and--as bitter of a taste it left in his mouth--he had to agree. The Olivia he saw back at the house was more like a stranger who looked identical to their Olivia. Of course, seeing her and knowing she’s from another universe fascinated him nonetheless.

His encounter with Jesse? A near heart attack experience, to put it nicely.

To see someone share the appearance with such a… Such a despicable man, while wearing a genuine, welcoming smile sat terribly with him. A part of his brain was shouting this was deception, yet no alarms went off.

But he was still Jesse. Radar knew he wasn’t the Jesse he knew but he was still Jesse. Running into him like that… Running…

Radar’s hands started becoming clammy.

‘Stop thinking about it.’ He told himself. He held his breath and gripped the clipboard tightly, hoping it wouldn’t slip from his grasp as he forced his mind to search for another subject.

A question popped up: ‘What would the tour consist of?’

Radar’s eyes brightened and he unclenched his jaw. He took a moment to observe the area around him for a spark of inspiration, Obsidian Town was the home to many and contained a rich history of their world. St. Stephen’s Library would be a wonderful place to start off! On their way there, they could stop at some of the monuments scattered throughout the town and he could explain what they represented!

His eyes drifted to the left where the town’s park entrance stood; a wide arch made of cool gray bricks which were cracked and moss covered. Perhaps he, Olivia, and Jesse could stroll through and he could answer whatever questions they had.

Nobody was at the park. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the place completely empty.

He looked around the rest of the town and realized he was the only one outside, though deep down inside, he knew he was never alone. Everyone else was closing their stores for the day, finishing their dinners, getting ready for bed… The world was a much different place under the Sun and it’s plain sky compared to the lively, colorful evenings.

A bird flying by caught his attention, his eyes followed and watched the creature as it sat in its nest on top of the roof of one of the many stores, singing its song.

Everyone was ready to sleep yet the rest of the world’s creatures seemed wide awake.

‘You should be going home.’ A voice in his head said.

He should. He can plan the rest of the tour before bed, or--worst case--tomorrow.

Regret filled his mind when he started walking as the thoughts of Jesse and his universe were starting to come back. It wasn’t the… ‘Good’ Jesse he was worried about, but his mind would go from that Jesse to theirs and he didn’t want to work himself up over nothing.

Radar forced his hand to write whatever gibberish came to him, his pen was getting coated with sweat. Why did he have to remind himself of Jesse?

He kept walking. The world was becoming noisier. The pen would scrape the paper as he wrote nonsense, the light breeze which swayed the trees started sounding like a windstorm, the chirps of bugs and birds blared in his ears, even the tapping of his own shoes were getting distracting.

Radar tried to block out the noise but then he noticed… The tapping didn’t sync up with his steps.

Was he hearing things incorrectly?

He began walking faster. So did the tapping. It still didn’t sync.

Something was wrong.

Radar held his breath and gripped his clipboard.

He spun around and let out a cry, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest.

Jesse jumped as well, taken aback by Radar’s reaction.

“OH MY--” Radar held the board to his chest and shut his eyes tightly, “You scared me!”

He took in mouthfuls of air, trying to settle his pounding heart down.

And he thought the first encounter with Jesse was terrifying.

“One moment. One moment.” He told the brunet, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

Jesse stood perfectly still, his hands held behind his back as if patiently waiting for Radar to collect himself.

Radar opened his eyes, pushed up his glasses, and took one more deep breath.

“I apologize,” He started with a shaky voice, “I didn’t--I thought Aiden said… He said…”

Radar found himself stumbling over his own words. He attempted to rephrase the sentence, but all he could manage to do was repeat “I… I-I…” over and over again.

He was waiting to calm down again, for his heart to beat regularly, for his voice to return to it’s usual flatness. But it didn’t.

Something is wrong.

Beads of sweat formed on his face and his body began to tremble as if freezing.

As realization seeped into Radar, Jesse’s mouth curled. His smile got bigger and bigger as he peered into Radar’s fear-filled eyes.

“What did Aiden say about me?” Jesse asked in a curious tone with the mocking smile. He leaned forward while remaining in place, hands still behind back.

“N…” Radar struggled to speak, “Nothing--None of your concern!”

He should run. He needs to run. Aiden’s would be the safest. But Jesse’s right there. Right in front of him. Radar couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He can’t.

“Really?” Jesse clutched at his chest, “I’ve been gone for a whole week and Aiden hasn’t said anything about me?” He said in that sham of a sad tone Radar was all too familiar with.

Stop looking at him. Stop looking at him. Think straight. Do something. Look away. Do something.

Radar forced his head to the right, facing away from him, but he could still see the vibrant red straps of Jesse’s suspenders out of the corner of his eye, tempting him to look back.

Jesse brushed aside a long curl of hair in his face, “What were you doing at Aiden’s? Must’ve been important. Or maybe!” He recreated Radar’s pose; pretending to clutch a board and looked in another direction with a terrified expression, “It’s the only place you feel ‘safe’ in! The big, strong heroes will protect you from all the eyes!”

“I don’t--I--” Radar pushed past the ridicule, “How do you know I was with them? Were you watching us?” He tried to steady his voice.

Jesse’s faced him again, “Not this time.”

Radar flinched and covered his face with the board on command.

Jesse stepped closer, Radar stepped back.

“I could hear your shrieky voice from across the town,” Jesse’s once mocking--though still expressive--tone had been dropped. “You could put it to use and tell me what you were doing.”

“If you… If you’re so interested,” Radar tried to gather as much courage as he could from his quivering body, “Why do--Why don’t you ask Aiden yourself?!”

“Hm.” Jesse took a step back and thought to himself. “Not a bad idea.” He shrugged and spun around, slowly walking away.

Radar’s hands clutched onto the clipboard so tightly he was afraid it’d snap in two. He was surprised to see Jesse on board with the idea. When he’d get there, Maya, Aiden, Gill, Stella, Cassie Rose, they could all deal with him. Yes, yes. They wouldn’t have to stress over finding Jesse if he was right in front of them! Perfect! Brilliant! No one would get hurt. No one. Not his friends, not him, not… Olivia and Jesse.

The other Jesse and Oliva.

Their Jesse couldn’t see them.

No, no, no. If he saw either one of them--No, no, he couldn’t let that happen. And it’d be Radar’s fault. His fault. Maya. Aiden. Cassie--they would get hurt or taken or killed, this town would be destroyed and it’d all be his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault--

Jesse’s distanting steps were nearly drowned out by Radar’s pounding heart. He bursted into a panic-fueled sprint.

“NO--!” He reached for the man’s arm to stop him, but Jesse whipped back around and grabbed Radar’s wrist with a crushing grip. Radar recoiled from the pain and immediately attempted to wriggle his way out of the grasp of Jesse’s… Disgusting hand… The filth on his hands traveled up his once clean white sleeves which were decorated with strange, washed out, brown stains. Some reached the shirt itself.

“Stop dragging this out, quitter.” Anger was becoming more and more detectable in Jesse’s voice. Radar squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel tears forming. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to cry. Not now. Don’t let Jesse see. Things will only get worse. Hold it in. Jesse will get upset and leave. He should.

“If you…” Radar was caught off guard by how brittle his voice was but he trudged on, “If your plan is to c… Call me n-names and invade my personal s… Space…” He swallowed, “Th-then you’re in for a disappointment.”

Jesse was about to speak but stopped to eye Radar, whose eyes were welling with tears and mouth stuck open, struggling to say another word. He could feel Radar’s arm shaking intensely in his hand. His eyes trailed down to the clipboard, where he saw snippets of words. A small smile appeared.

Without warning, Jesse snatched the board out of Radar’s hand. Radar gasped and shot his other arm towards it only for Jesse to crush his wrist harder.

Radar needed that. He needed that. Jesse couldn’t take it--couldn’t let him see it.

“Last chance.”

“You…” Radar stuttered as he glared at Jesse, “You don’t scare me.”

Radar’s words were met with a painful punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him. He let go of Radar’s wrist and watched him stumble back.

“Not what I wanted to hear.” Jesse said as Radar gasped for air, hunched over and clutching his stomach. Jesse threw the clipboard to the ground and walked towards Radar as he gripped the fabric of his pants tightly.

Radar saw tears stream down his face and hit the ground. He kept staring at the ground. He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t. He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and tried to control his breathing with no luck.

“Are you crying?” Jesse’s face scrunched.

He came closer, “You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be. You have no reason to cry!” His voice was rising.

Radar didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Jesse dug at his legs then grabbed both of Radar’s arms, yanking him forward so they were face to face. He stared at the teary eyed mess whose body trembled terribly.

“You used to talk so much.” Jesse said calmly with a look of concern he struggled to maintain. “What happened?” Looking at Radar’s face started to boil an intense bitterness within him. He was the weakest person Jesse knew yet he was making everything difficult. This shouldn’t have gone on for so long. He should be with the others already. But he wasn’t.

And that fact alone angered him.

He didn’t give Radar the chance to stop crying--let alone respond. His dirtied fingers dug into his arms more and more with each sob let out. Jesse was sick of them. Sick of the cries. He threw Radar’s body down, sat on his legs and lifted up the top half of his body by the shoulders.

“Can’t you do anything besides crying and running away?!” He shouted, shaking the mess that was Radar violently.

Radar tried to say something back but it was all incoherent. He shook his head intensely.

Jesse couldn’t take this. He couldn’t. How incompetent can a person be? How useless can someone be? Wasted his time. His damn time. And for what? Listening to a quitter’s cries and staring at its pitiful face?

“Come on then! Do something!” He grabbed Radar’s head, nails jabbing into his face, and bashed it into the cold, concrete road.

Radar heard a cracking sound--praying it was his glasses--followed by a flash of colors. The colors came and went, everything became blurry and right before he regained his vision, Jesse slammed him into the ground again.

The pain wasn’t instant. For the first several seconds, he didn’t feel anything, and what a blissful several seconds they were. The pain started out small and more of an annoyance before it flared up, took over his head, and made its way down his spine.

‘Is he trying to knock me out?’ Radar thought hazily. His head was pounding. Half of it felt like it had been set on fire. Jesse held Radar by his hair and shouted at him. He couldn’t make out whatever he was saying. His glasses had fallen off. Radar could vaguely make out Jesse’s bloodshot eyes.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Jesse would never.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Maybe he wasn’t.

‘He’s going to kill me.’

Those were the only words booming in Radar’s head. Don’t take any chances. Do something. Anything.

Radar felt his head being lifted up again.

‘Scream.’

The instant his head made contact with the ground he screamed at the top of his lungs. He hated screaming. He hated it as much as crying. But he screamed. He thought his voice box would explode, that his tonsils would fly out and his lungs would shrivel.

Jesse’s body jolted and he froze.

Radar kept screaming.

Jesse shook off the surprise and immediately locked his hands around Radar’s throat,

“Shut up. Shut up.” He ordered through gritted teeth.

The screaming was replaced by gurgled attempts at gasping. Radar grabbed Jesse’s arm with his shaking hand, trying to get him off, but Radar couldn’t muster enough force. He could only hold onto the arm with a barely detectable grip as tears began mixing with his saliva.

Jesse heard a door open in the distance with voices accompanying it. Someone was coming. Even if they weren’t heading to them specifically, he wasn’t going to risk being seen.

Jesse dropped Radar and said something indecipherable before he ran off, leaving a pitiful Radar to lay on the empty streets of the town.

Radar was motionless. His hair was sprawled everywhere similarly to his body. He so desperately wanted to get up or find his glasses, but the thought of moving made his head pound harder.

The tears had slowed.

He heard footsteps approaching. He couldn’t see, but maybe that was a good thing. It’d save him further humiliation.

Radar laid still. He should stay here. Here is safe. Jesse’s gone. He’s safe. Here is safe. Only here.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Maya stared at all the weapons she had polished and sharpened. She wasn’t originally going to sharpen them, but she found herself restless and had hoped this would tire her out. When she found herself still wide awake, she decided to spiffy up her friends’ weapons, she even made Stella an extra set of arrows to pass the time.

Maya wished she could’ve done something with Cassie’s axes, but Cassie always carried them around with her and insisted she could take care of them herself.

At the end of the line of weapons was the book she had picked from earlier. The book was a really pale red with a title whose words were nearly scratched off. Aiden had asked them to read; she could’ve spent her spare time doing so. She’s known Aiden long enough, he wouldn’t get upset over her not reading, but she’d feel a little bad if she didn’t do so much as peek inside of it.

Maya sighed, pushed herself out of the chair and was about to grab the book… But then she heard a sound. It was faint but noticeable. It sounded human. She listened to the sound for a moment longer until her heart came to a screeching halt and her body became cold.

‘Radar.’

She threw the door open and ran. Her shoes hit the ground and burned her feet as she ran faster and faster.

Anything in her path--people, signs, stands--was avoided on command. The layout of this town was ingrained into her brain, she didn’t need directions. Her legs would take sharp turns with only one goal in mind: Find Radar.

He couldn’t have gone too fair if she was able to hear his scream.

Maya took another right turn and saw multiple people standing and staring at a shaking figure on the floor, several feet from the park entrance. An older woman looked like she was trying to talk to it.

The first thing to grab Maya’s attention was the figure’s green suit. Her eyes widened. When she got close enough, she slid on her knees and yielded before the quivering figure which was Radar.

“What happened?” She asked as she grabbed Radar’s glasses and clipboard, her voice remained its gruffness but worry could be heard.

Radar carefully lifted his hand and placed it over his chest, his breaths started out slow and unsteady but soon sped up.

“Je--” Radar hiccuped, “Jes… Je… He- He wa… Jess--” Tears welled up and gushed down his face.

He couldn’t finish a single sentence. He didn’t need to. Maya heard enough. Her mouth hung open for a moment before rage filled her; she clenched her jaw and grinded her teeth. Jesse was out there. He was here. He could be close. Maybe she could run after him and knock him cold.

Radar’s stifled sobs washed away the red she saw, and brought her mind back to what was important.

“Radar, I need you to take deep breaths.” She said.

He shook his head recklessly, “I c… I can… ca… Can’t…”

Maya started biting the inside of her cheek. She needed to bring him back home, but he was in awful condition. There’s no way he could walk, let alone stand.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Olivia and Jesse rushed downstairs. When they reached the bottom they saw Stella and Aiden standing by the open door, talking.

“What happened?” Jesse asked.

Jesse had no idea how long he had been asleep. He was surprised to have even slept at all. One second the world was dark and restless, the next second a loud sound had awoken the both of them and the sun was shining.

Aiden turned towards them, “Maya ran out. I’m gonna look for her. You guys stay here and--”

Stella shook Aiden’s arm and directed his attention to the outside.

Maya came running in carrying Radar, his arms dangled and his face was stained with dirt and tear streaks. Jesse only caught a glimpse of the state Radar was in, but it was all he needed to see. He couldn’t believe that sobbing man was the same person they saw hours ago.

Jesse was about to ask a question but Maya ran up the stairs, shoving past him and Olivia with little acknowledgement, and went down the hallway before running into her room slamming the door behind her.

Jesse ran after her--with Olivia behind--and pressed his face against the door. He could hear Radar sobbing and Maya saying something to him, but her words were muffled.

He knocked, “Is everything alright?”

He began opening the door only for Maya to stop it with her foot. The door was cracked open enough for Maya’s face to peek through.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said coldly.

“Wh--” Jesse sputtered, “But Radar’s hurt and I wanna--”

“I know you mean well,” Maya’s voice softened, “but you’d make things worse if he saw you.”

Jesse didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t argue with Maya, she probably knew him better than he did, but seeing Radar in such a state--even if it wasn’t the Radar he knew--without knowing what had happened was going to haunt him.

Olivia heard the rushing footsteps of Stella and Aiden nearing and signaled Jesse to step back.

They both pressed themselves against the walls of the cramped hallway as Aiden and Stella skid to a stop at Maya’s door.

“Maya, what happened?” Aiden asked, looking through the crack.

“Jesse.” She answered in a whisper.

Everyone froze. Jesse’s entire body stiffened and his pupils shrunk.

He instantly zipped his head to Stella and Aiden, who were already looking at him, “I didn’t--This wasn’t me! I was asleep this whole time! I swear I would NEVER do this--”

Jesse didn’t even know what had happened, but he didn’t give either of them a chance to speak. Based on Stella’s look of absolute revulsion, he already had an idea on what they were thinking.

“It’s true!” Olivia confirmed, “He never left the bed! He only woke up when Maya ran out!”

Stella put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, ready to go off on Jesse when--

“They’re telling the truth.” Maya said.

She shifted her head to the two of them, “I was downstairs the whole time. I didn’t see or hear any signs of Jesse breaking out. This was our Jesse.”

Maya closed the door and locked it.

No one said anything for a minute.

Stella turned to Aiden, the two were frantically discussing what must’ve happened and what to do next. Jesse struggled to swallow; his mouth was dry. He held his hands together tightly and took deep, steady breaths to calm himself down; Olivia saw the fear in his eyes.

Olivia carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, “What should we do?”

Aiden and Stella faced her with equally distraught expressions.

“We should--” Aiden paused. “We need to go back to bed. When everyone’s up we’ll tell them what happened. We can’t do this now. Not now.”

Olivia wanted to argue that it was morning, they should be figuring this situation out now. However, the desperation in Aiden’s voice told her to listen to him. She didn’t want to, but maybe it was for the best.

Olivia shook Jesse lightly, “You heard him, Jesse?”

“Mhm.” His response was rigid and barely audible.

Olivia began walking back to the guest room, dragging Jesse behind. They probably wouldn’t be able to sleep again, but they could use the time to think about what’s happened. Maybe Jesse needed the time to collect his thoughts on this situation.

When they entered their room neither of them said a word to each other, but shared the same question: How horrible is the other Jesse?

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #mcsm aiden #mcsm olivia #mcsm radar #mcsm stella #mcsm cassie #mcsm cassie rose #mcsm gill #mcsm maya #this chapter!!!#AAAH it was great to write #i dummy HOPE #you guys enjoy #hjgmfthdrgesfwar #hhhhhhhh #APWHNPMCSMWASAMCSM #AU fic

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trulymadlysydney · 5 years ago

Text

Somewhere In Time: One

“Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires.”

-- Charles Caleb Colton.

**Please do not repost without permission***

4:37pm, December 31st, 1999

“Thank you so much for coming in, and happy new year!”

The bells above the door of the book shop jingle as the last of the day’s customers exit, simultaneously allowing a gust of cold wind to fill the front of the small building. Twenty-six year old Roni Elliot smiles cheerfully until the customer has disappeared out of sight, at which point she lets out a long, labored sigh. “That’s the last of ‘em, Eileen.”

An older woman appears from around the corner of a row of bookshelves, carrying a stack of books in her arms that she had been in the process of returning to their rightful spots. “Finally. Thought they’d never leave. It’s New Years Eve, for heaven’s sake, what are they doing here?” The look on her face makes Roni giggle, but Eileen means every word that comes out of her mouth.

Roni knows the closing routine well, and immediately goes to lock up the shop without even being asked. “We could ask ourselves the same question, you know.”

Eileen scoffs, scanning the title of the top book in her arms and placing it on a shelf. She doesn’t say anything, but the smile on her face informs Roni that she’s not as grumpy as she seems. She never is really, and at this point, Roni is used to her moods.

Roni adores Eileen. Her bark is worse than her bite, and Roni has become well acquainted with said bark. But Eileen loves Roni just as much, and although she struggles to express it, Roni knows Eileen would do anything for her.

The quiet doesn’t last long, as Roni knew it wouldn’t. Eileen is immediately launching into a story about her younger sister and how careless she is. Roni offers what little advice she can give on the situation while she sits and sorts through the box of used book donations, piling them all into different categories so they’ll be easier to place on the shelves.

“I’ve told her several times, ‘you can’t keep putting this off, Debby’ but she never listens to me. And I said to her, ‘Debby,’ I said, ‘what are you going to do when Richard passes?’ But she insists she’s too young to think about that just yet.” Eileen laughs. “I’m sixty-nine years old but at least I’ve got this store to my name. And what does Debby have?”

“You’re sixty-nine?” Roni teases. “Eileen, why didn’t you tell me? You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Oh stop that. I’m being genuine, Veronica.”

Roni loves working in the bookshop. She finds comfort among the used books; the smell of old pages strangely familiar and welcoming. She’s been at this job since 1995, and she can’t seem to pull herself away from it all these years later. She’s grown too attached to Eileen, to the old books with the ripped spines and the dog-eared pages. It’s a family owned shop, opened in 1920 by Eileen’s grandmother, Louise. Eileen had grown up in this shop, eventually taking it over when her own mother passed, and in a way Roni feels as though she also grew up here.

Yellowing photographs cover the walls, some dating all the way back to the shop’s opening. Pictures of Louise with early patrons, pictures of past employees, and even a few family pictures that have nothing to do with the shop are all lined along the walls, yellowing with age and curling at the corners. Louise was a beautiful woman, and some of her photos look eerily like young photos of Eileen. Roni often finds herself scanning the pictures on the walls, asking Eileen to tell her about some of the people photographed. But Roni’s favorite picture is one that hangs in the back corner of the shop.

The photo is dated 1965, and features a freckle-faced little twelve year old girl with pigtails, standing beside her bicycle--the basket of said bicycle filled to the brim with science books. The little girl was none other than Roni’s own mother, Tanya, and Roni gets a pang of both joy and sadness every time she looks at it. According to Eileen, who was thirty-five at the time of the photograph, Tanya used to ride her bike to the shop every Friday-- because Friday was when she got her weekly allowance-- and purchase as many books as she could carry. It’s a story Roni’s heard thousands of times, but one she never gets tired of hearing.

“And of course her children will never come in here to see me.” Roni is only half-heartedly listening to Eileen, who is still ranting about Debby. “I helped her raise those kids when Richard was away and, and for what? They’re all grown now and all they care about are those darn computers.”

Eileen had never had children of her own, but she’d grown fond of Tanya and her frequent visits. She was one of the first to hear about Tanya’s pregnancy with Roni, and one of the first to offer up help when Roni’s father left without a word. When Tanya had passed, Roni had gone to live with her own grandmother, but she’d always considered Eileen a grandmother as well. It was an unspoken bond between the two of them; one that even Roni sometimes struggled finding the words to explain.

“It’s a shame,” Eileen’s voice brings Roni out of her own head once again, and she feels bad for zoning out. “Nowadays the young folks just don’t appreciate books like they used to.”

Roni sighs, feeling an almost pang of guilt at Eileen’s words. It’s a conversation they’ve had multiple times, and no matter what, Roni is never quite sure how to respond. She speaks up, placing a donated book into the “romance” pile. “There are still kids out there who love books.”

“Have you seen one person in here under the age of 30 today, Veronica?”

Eileen makes a point, but Roni is nothing if she isn’t positive. “They’re just busy preparing for their New Years Eve parties tonight.”

“And then after the parties, where will they be?”

Roni smirks, thumbing mindlessly through an autobiography before throwing it into its own pile. “Hungover.”

Eileen shakes her head, but Roni’s words coax a smile onto her face. “I don’t know, honey. It just doesn’t seem promising.”

Roni halts her movements, glancing over to where Eileen sits. Eiileen looks sad, and it weighs heavy on Roni’s heart. So roni sighs, offering a warm smile. “Heyyy,” she says softly. “You’ll see. 2000 is going to be a good year. I’ll make sure of it. I have plans for this place!”

“I’ve had plans for this place since I was six years old!. But everything keeps changing, and kids don’t care.”

“You’ve got to work on being more positive, girl.” Roni rises to her feet and gathers the pile of romance books. “Maybe this Y2K nonsense will only wipe out all the kids obsessed with technology. And then the only people left will be all the young people with old souls like you and me.”

Eileen laughs again. “Ohh stop that,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Speaking of all that, shouldn’t you be home getting ready? I’m sure you’ve got some exciting plans tonight.”

Roni raises her voice to be heard better, now speaking from the back corner of the shop where the romance section is located. “Oliver and I are having a party. Couple of friends. Nothing special.”

“Oliver,” Eileen repeats, as if trying to jog her memory as to who Oliver is. “That boyfriend of yours still treating you well?”

Roni has been with Oliver since she was sixteen years old, ten years ago, and in the entire five years she’s worked here, Eileen has asked that same question at least once a week. “Yeah, he’s totally great. We’re still like, really happy.”

“Well, good. You make sure he puts a ring on your finger before any funny business though. You don’t want any babies you aren’t ready for.”

Roni snorts quietly to herself. “Don’t worry, Eileen. There won’t be any of that any time soon.”

“See to it that there isn’t.”

It’s quiet for the next few moments, with Eileen closing down the cash register and Roni placing books back on their shelves. She glances up at the pictures that she’s grown so familiar with on the walls. Sometimes she likes to make up stories for each, imagining their entire family line, what they do for work, where they’re from.

There’s the larger woman in the picture dated 1987, smiling and laughing with her eyes closed beside a man with a thick gray mustache. There’s the picture of the boy in the newsboy cap, dated 1924, standing beside a stack of books that’s taller than him, grinning at the camera with a dimpled smirk. And then there’s a picture of Roni and Eileen, dated 1996- just one year after Roni started working here. Eileen is giving Roni a stern yet amused look, with a hint of a smile tugging on her cheeks, while Roni is giving the camera a goofy, mid-laugh smile. It’s one of Roni’s favorite pictures ever, and one of these days she swears she’ll get a copy of her own to frame.

“Veronica, dear.” Roni doesn’t know how much time has passed when Eileen catches her attention once more. “Why don’t you go on ahead and get out of here? I can finish this up.”

“What? No, I’m not gonna leave you--”

“Oh, honey. You know I can handle this on my own. You go on home, get your party all set up for tonight. Don’t worry about me.”

Roni appears from around the shelves, subconsciously playing with the rings on her fingers. “But don’t you need to get out of here, too? You’ve gotta have some party plans tonight.”

Eileen laughs “The only plans I’ve got for tonight are to go home, cook myself some dinner, go to bed, and wake up in a brand new millennium.”

“If we make it that long!” Roni teases, eyes widening in a jokingly scared face. “You know Y2K is gonna take us all out.”

“Oh Veronica,” Eileen scoffs, “stop with that nonsense.” She swats at Roni’s behind as she passes, and Roni giggles. “You and I both know we’re going to wake up tomorrow and everything is going to be completely normal. We’re going to get one day to relax and then it’s back to work. Within a week no one will even remember any of this.”

Roni glances down at the mood ring on her finger, chewing absentmindedly at her chapped lips. She knows Eileen is probably right, but there’s a part of her that hopes she isn’t.

Still, this is not the time or the place to get into all of that. So she brushes it aside with a giggle. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve been around sixty-nine years, dear. They’ve predicted this more times than I can count on all my fingers and toes. If the world is going to end, I just hope she gets on with it. I’m tired.”

This time Roni laughs out loud. “Word,” she replies, beginning her final go-round of the little shop, making sure each aisle is neat and tidy. “But really, you sure you’re gonna be okay alone here?”

Roni hardly hears Eileen’s answer when she stops in the sci-fi section. She scans the book titles briefly before finding exactly what she’s looking for; the over-used copy of Black Holes and Time Warps: Einstein’s Outrageous Legacy by Kip S. Thorne.

With slow fingers, Roni gently slides the book from the shelf and runs her hand over the cover. She’s borrowed this book countless times, read it cover to cover so many times she could potentially recite it, and filled at least a hundred pages in her journal with notes not only from this novel, but several others as well. Some part of her mind tells her that it’s pointless to borrow this book yet again, as if she’s going to find something she hasn’t already seen. But the other part of her mind, the much louder and more prominent part, tells her to read it just one more time.

Just in case.

Roni takes a deep breath and walks up to where Eileen still stands closing the register. “Hey, Eileen?”

“Hm?” Eileen hardly even glances up at Roni from over her glasses.

“Would it be okay if I borrowed this book?”

This time, Eileen does look up, squinting over her glasses to read the title of the book before shooting Roni an incredulous look. “Again?”

“It’s my favorite!” It’s only partly a lie. “I just find it like, super fascinating, you know?”

“What exactly are you expecting to get from reading it hundreds of times?”

Roni bites her tongue, not daring to allow herself to tell Eileen what she really wants. “I’m not… expecting anything,” she lies. “I just think it’s dope.”

“Dope,” Eileen mocks, shaking her head with a laugh. She eyes Roni carefully, then lets out a sigh. “Alright, love, of course you can take it.”

Roni beams, surprisingly relieved although she’d known the entire time that Eileen would say yes. Eileen continues speaking as Roni heads towards the back room. “And stop using those slang words on me, Veronica, you know I don’t understand them.” Despite her words, she smiles, nodding her head towards the ‘Employees Only’ door. “Go on and get out of here, now. You’ve got a party to set up.”

“Eileen, you’re the bomb.” Now Roni’s just teasing her, and she blows Eileen a kiss that has her giggling.

It’s about ten minutes later when Roni is waving her final goodbye to Eileen and slipping out the door. It is windier than usual outside, and she pulls her jacket tightly around her shoulders, not at all looking forward to walking home in this cold. She glances up at the cloudy sky, which looks like it could snow at any moment, and lets out a sigh. As much as she loves her friends, she really hopes they don’t all get snowed in at her and Oliver’s house tonight.

Roni is so distracted by the sky and her own thoughts that she shrieks when she feels herself bump straight into another person. She blinks as she regains her balance, trying to make out the person in front of her.

It’s an old man she’s seen before on this street. Roni has never been sure if he’s homeless or crazy, but he’s always out here holding his signs and shouting about ‘the inevitable doom that will come if you don’t repent!” His current sign reads “Y2K: The End Is Near” in dripping red paint made to look-- very inaccurately-- like blood.

Roni lets out a sigh once her initial shock wears off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“The end is near!” The man shouts in Roni’s face, getting so close she can practically smell his breath. “We have hours to go, do you have a plan?”

Roni grimaces before sliding past the man to continue on her walk home. “Sorry, dude. My plan is to get shitfaced and fall asleep with my friends. Good luck with the protesting though.”

Although he makes no effort to chase after her, he continues yelling; the further Roni gets away the louder he becomes. “You’ll be sorry! When the world comes to complete and utter chaos and you’ve got nowhere to go, see if I help you!! The end is nearer than you think, and you will suffer the consequences, do you hear me?”

He continues yelling for what feels like an eternity, and when Roni is finally out of earshot she rolls her eyes. “Fuckin’ weirdo,” she mutters under her breath. With that, she walks a little bit faster, tucking her house key between her pointer and middle finger in order to feel a bit more safe.

----------

9:31pm, December 31st, 1924

“Styles! Get over here.”

Twenty-five year old Harry Styles groans, wiping his hands on the rag hanging from the back of his pants. He brushes his sweaty brow with the back of his wrist as he walks towards his supervisor, Frank Milton. “Sir?”

“What is this?” Frank shoves a leather shoe into Harry’s chest, and Harry has to take a moment to readjust himself so as to not fall over.

He glances down at the shoe, trying his hardest to find a problem with it. He sees his own reflection, a bit distorted in the shiny leather of the shoe. He flips it around to look at the sole-- perfectly in tact, and finally gives up, shrugging. “It’s a shoe.”

Frank scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. “You’re joking. You’re absolutely joking.”

Harry glances around the factory. A few of his friends are keeping an eye on the situation, but for the most part, no one is paying much attention to him. He clears his throat. “It’s proper to my eyes, sir.”

“Proper.” Frank scoffs again, suddenly yanking the shoe from Harry’s hand and shoving it in his face. “Does this seem proper to you, Styles?”

The shoe almost hits Harry’s nose, and he can smell the fresh leather from how close Frank is holding it to his face. Harry squints, tilting his head back a bit so he can try and get a better idea as to what Frank could possibly be referring to. He scans the shoe once more, shaking his head slowly when he once again comes up short handed. “I don’t--”

“The throat line!” Frank throws the shoe with all of his might this time, and it lands harshly against Harry’s chest before plopping to the ground with a dull “plap” noise. Harry wants to reach up and rub at the spot on his chest that the shoe impacted, but now Frank has nearly everyone’s attention, and Harry doesn’t so much as dare to move. Frank takes a step closer to Harry, shoving his finger against the center of his chest. He’s so close now that Harry can feel his spit when he talks. “How many times have I told you to watch what you’re doing, Styles? Hm? How many?”

Harry can’t think of a proper answer, and he’s not sure whether or not this is a rhetorical question. More than anything, he wants to shove Frank’s finger off of his chest and show him exactly what he thinks of him. He could tell Frank off right here and now, in front of everyone, once and for all. Too many times has Frank gotten in Harry’s face over the most minuscule and trivial things. Too many times has Frank gotten too big for his britches and abused the power he had over these men in this factory. It drives Harry to near insanity, especially knowing that he could easily flip Frank over his shoulder and send him crashing to the ground (likely knocking him unconscious considering the concrete floor), without so much as breaking a sweat.

But Harry is one late bill away from having the power in his apartment completely shut off. Harry is one blanket short of being completely warm in his bed at night, especially come this time of year. And Harry only has about one meal left in his fridge to get him through till next payday. Which means he can’t afford to give Frank a piece of his mind.

So Harry clears his throat and gives him an answer. “Several.”

“Several times, Styles, and for what? For the throat line of our shoes to look like this?!” Frank gestures angrily at the shoe, now lying abandoned on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh? How do we get it through your skull to watch what the fuck you’re doing?”

Harry won’t meet Frank’s eyes, and he’s certain that if he did he’d lose all control. The fact that every pair of eyes in the factory is on him has become painfully obvious, and Harry can feel the tips of his ears turning red. With every ounce of courage Harry can muster, he swallows his pride and bends down to retrieve the shoe. “I’m sorry, sir. If you’ll just give me another chance--”

Frank cuts him off with a jab of his knee into Harry’s side, successfully knocking off Harry’s balance and sending him to the ground. “Does the integrity of this brand mean nothing to you? Do deadlines just not matter in your world?”

On the one hand, Harry wants one of his mates to stand up for him. But on the other, he hates that they’re all there watching this happen. “Mr. Milton, I--”

“I have given you more than enough chances, Styles. And this?” He kicks the shoe towards Harry. “This is the way you repay me?”

“Mr. Milton--”

“I’ve had it, Styles. You’re finished here.”

The entire factory seems to fall silent at Frank’s words, and Harry lets out all of his breath in disbelief. The silence feels stuffy and hot, and Harry scans the entire room before glancing back up at Frank. Everything moves in slow motion, and not a single person in the room knows how to react.

Finally, Harry scoffs, shaking his head, and a bitter smile teases at the corners of his lips. Harry isn’t one to beg, especially not when he’s down on the ground like this, and as desperate as he is for money, there’s a small part of him that’s relieved. Harry closes his mouth, opens it again, glances around the room once more, and then smile’s a tongue-in-cheek smile up at Frank. “I don’t… know what to say, sir.”

“Get your things. I have nothing more to say to you.”

All eyes are on Harry when he lets out a long nasally sigh. He nods his head slowly before rising to his feet, taking the previously discarded shoe in his hand. Frank turns to walk away, but stops dead in his tracks when he hears Harry’s voice.

“I’m sure you don’t, Frank.”

Harry doesn’t move. He soaks up every ounce of the thickness in the room and uses it to fuel himself even more. When Frank finally does turn around on his heels, the look on his beet red face is almost enough to send Harry into a fit of laughter.

Almost, but not quite.

Frank takes a step towards Harry, intended to make him back down. Instead he only grins, causing Frank to raise his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well,” Harry says, nonchalantly turning the shoe in his hands, “Frank. It’s unfortunate you feel that way.” He glances up from under his lashes, completely unable to contain the smirk on his face. “Because I’ve got an awful lot to say to you.”

Harry steps forward, shoving the shoe right back into Frank’s chest before walking completely past him. He walks further into the factory, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “You think I’m going to lose any sleep over quitting this fuckin’ dump?”

“You watch your mouth, Styles.”

“The way you watch yours?” Harry raises his eyebrows challengingly, continuing his walk around the room. “The way you treat me--the way you’ve treated every single one of us for the last two years warrants no amount of respect from me, sir.”

Harry arrives at the machine of a coworker and pats him on the back. “Eddie, how long have you been here?”

Eddie hesitates, eyes darting nervously between Frank and Harry. “Uh,” he stammers. “Three… three years…”

Harry gasps, feigning shock. “Three years, huh? And in the amount of time that ol’ Frank has been in charge of this place, have you been acknowledged for your efforts and your devotion to this company? Even once?”

Eddie glances back at Frank, completely frozen and unsure of how to go about this situation. “Harry--”

Frank takes a step forward. “Mr. Styles, I will ask you one last time--”

“And you!” Harry walks over to another coworker, James, and nods his head at him. “Mr. Harrison, is your wife not, what, eight months pregnant?”

James clears his throat. “Nine.”

“Nine! Nine months pregnant! Well, congrats, old man. And over the last nine months, how many times has Frank allowed you to go home and be with your wife as she’s about to pop?”

“Styles, that is enough!” Frank’s voice is raised now, and Harry swears he sees steam rising from the old man’s bald head.

“It isn’t enough!” Harry shouts back. “It will never be enough, Frank, until you understand that what you’re doing is wrong. It’s slave labor, and its cruel. Have you offered Bill over there any compensation for the time he nearly sliced his finger clean off?”

“Harry--”

“Do you know why that happened? It’s because you had him here at four in the morning after you’d worked him till eleven at night the night before. It’s because you see your employees as money makers, not as people. It’s because Mr. Frank fucking Milton doesn’t have a single bone of compassion in his old, tired body. And everyone here knows I’m right.”

Frank now stands a few mere inches in front of Harry, but Harry doesn’t budge. He only grins. “And if you think that I’m not going to the proper authorities to report your sorry ass now that I don’t work for you anymore, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Frank lunges for Harry then, wrapping his arms around his torso and sending both of them toppling to the ground. He swings punches left and right with no proper aim, and although he does get a few good jabs in, Harry is stronger.

Harry grunts, rolling over so that Frank is the one on the ground. Frank is quick, however, blocking a few of Harry’s punches to his face. He’s spewing curse words that Harry’s not even sure he’s heard before, and the blind rage inside of Harry takes over his body completely. A year of being treated this poorly has done him in, he thinks, and he swears he could kill Frank if given the chance.

Harry hardly notices the complete chaos taking place around them as he and Frank rise to their feet to continue their brawl. Some of the men are cheering, others are trying to pull the men apart. Harry receives a solid sock to the eye that has him stumbling backwards, which he retaliates with a swift knee to Frank’s stomach. Frank groans, hunching over briefly, and Harry swears he’s got him now. He lunges forward, sending them both to the ground once again, and just begins swinging.

Harry feels he’s just getting warmed up, when he feels two pairs of arms grab him from behind to pull him away.

Harry tastes blood, and he reaches up to wipe at his now swollen eye, that he’s sure is going to be black and blue come morning. His absolute rage still hasn’t died down yet, although he’s fighting a losing battle now He kicks and wiggles, but his captors are stronger than him, dragging him towards the exit doors.

The last thing Harry sees before reaching the doors are a few of the men helping Frank stand upright. “Fuck you!” Harry spits. “And fuck this place! You’ll all be sorry, this place is going to crash and burn and I’ll be laughing while it happens! You’ll be begging me to come back, and--”

He’s cut off when he’s practically thrown out the front door. The two men responsible shake their heads with disapproving glares. “Good luck with that attitude in the real world, Styles,” one of them laughs before slamming the door.

But Harry isn’t finished. “Yeah, fuck you, too actually! I quit!”

Harry is met only with the sound of the wind, which feels surprisingly good against his hot body. He reaches up to wipe at mouth, cursing when he sees the amount of blood on his hands. He glances around him at the almost empty streets of New York, admittedly thankful that of the small handful of people around, not one really seems to acknowledge him.

“Bloody New York,” he mumbles under his breath before rising to his feet.

He lets out a somewhat injured sniff, wiping at his throbbing nose. His head hurts, and more than anything all he wants right now is to crawl into his bed and sleep for the next three days. He knows he can’t, however, because the bills are going to need to get paid one way or another. And he’s got to start job hunting the moment his eyes open in the morning.

However, he figures he’s allowed to feel a bit sorry for himself for the time being.

Harry wraps his coat further around himself, shivering when another gust of wind comes his way. Damn this cold. Damn winter. Damn the bills. Damn New York.

Up ahead, Harry makes out a figure. He assumes it’s a woman or a child, because the figure is much smaller than he is, but it’s stumbling around as if it’s had far too much to drink. Harry squints against the dim light, trying to make out what’s going on.

The figure seems to be walking in his direction, and Harry slows his steps ever so slightly until he can figure out the appropriate course of action. Most likely it’s a drunk-- this area is swimming with them, especially around this time of night-- and he hopes he’ll be able to pass by without any sort of hassle. Sometimes drunk men try to heckle him, or drunk women twice his age try to seduce him. He always politely declines, but it’s awkward nonetheless.

But when Harry gets a bit closer, he realizes that the figure is neither of those things.

It’s a young woman, yes, and she is stumbling, but it isn’t the stumble of a drunkard. It’s the stumble of someone who’s lost, dazed, or even perhaps sick. Harry stops in his tracks.

“Miss, are you alright?”

Harry’s voice seems to fall on deaf ears. Although very few people are around, no one acknowledges the girl, and she stumbles again, nearly slamming herself into the brick building.

Why is no one helping her? Harry takes a step forward, then stops himself again when she glances around, as if she can hardly see two feet in front of her.

“Miss?” He calls again, softer, as if afraid to startle her.

This time she does acknowledge him, taking a shaky step towards him and nearly toppling over once again. Harry wastes no time in rushing over to her, slightly annoyed that he’s the only one who seems to even realize this is going on. She stumbles towards him and he lengthens his strides so as to close the distance between them as quickly as possible.

He reaches her just in time, and the moment he’s close enough to get a decent look at her face, she collapses in his arms. “Miss!”

She blinks sleepily up at him with furrowed brow and open mouth. Her breathing is heavy, and Harry struggles to keep her somewhat upright as he watches her.

“Are you alright?” He asks, breathless. He shakes her a bit, trying to get her to come to. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on? Are you alright?”

The girl in his arms struggles to keep her eyes opened, but she gulps in a breath of air and reaches up for Harrys’ face with a shaky hand. She runs a weak finger across his cheekbone, down his cheek, and to his jaw, as if she’s trying to recognize him. Harry doesn’t understand, but something tells him he needs to hold still in this moment. So he holds his breath as she traces his features.

“Miss,” he says slowly, “what happened to you?”

Finally dropping her hand, she continues to blink sleepily up at him, confusion never once leaving her face. She looks like she’s struggling to speak, and Harry shakes her again ever so slightly to keep her conscious.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and Harry waits with bated breath for her to be able to get a clear thought out. But when she does, it takes him completely by surprise.

“Mom?”

Harry scoffs. He doesn’t mean to, but it comes out the second she says it. “Well, how do you like that,” he says to himself. “Save a damsel in distress and she thinks you’re her damn mother.”

But Harry doesn’t get the snarky response he’s expecting. When he glances back down at her, her eyes are almost fully fluttered closed, and her head finally lulls to the side in complete relaxation. She's passed out in his arms now, and he has absolutely no idea what to do in this situation.

“Shit,” he says quietly, shaking her a bit more in an attempt to wake her. “Please wake up, I didn’t mean it.”

She’s completely unresponsive now, and Harry is not fully convinced she’s even alive anymore. He reaches up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, contemplating how on earth he’s supposed to go about dealing with this. Should he call the police? Should he take her to a hospital? What happens if they blame him? The black eye certainly isn’t going to bode well for him.

He uses his hand to fan her face, even going so far to blow a little as if that’s going to do any good. The panic is setting in, and it’s almost far too much for him to take when she stirs ever so slightly.

“Yes! Yes, wake up, there’s a good girl…” Harry brushes a bit of her hair off of her forehead, shifting her a bit more so that she’s propped up. When she opens her eyes, he beams, even though she looks just as confused as before-- if not more.

“Hello!” Harry says quickly, “Good evening! Yes, hi, I think you may have just passed away in my arms and then risen from the dead, and I want to help you but I’m genuinely not even sure where to begin so please stay awake and tell me what happened to you because--

“Wait,” she says slowly, lifting her head a bit to look around. As confused as she still seems, this is the most cognizant she’s been this entire time. Harry waits impatiently for her to say something, slowly becoming aware of the fact that he’s still holding her in his arms.

Finally, she looks up at him with an unreadable expression. She’s not particularly concerned, not scared and not excited-- but something tells Harry that the question she asks is urgent.

“What year is it?”

#i don't know why im so nervous but here she is #this story has been swimming in my head for like.... the majority of this year #this is my pride and joy and im so excited to share the rest with you guys #Harry Styles #Harry #One Direction #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #One Direction fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #One Direction AU #AU

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bapyess1r · 4 years ago

Text

PuNK

WARNINGS: cursing

Pairings: Rafe Adler x OC, Sam Drake x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch, @tiecladartist, @courtenbae

Chapter 3

Lyric’s POV

There I was. Up at 6 in the morning. Standing in line. At Starbucks. For overpriced coffee. That he probably wouldn’t even finish. My eyes were dried out and my neck hurt a little this morning. ‘I gotta cool it on the head bangin’ tonight…’ I thought.

It was cold as hell and the street walkers of New York seemed ruder than normal. I somehow managed to get up and dress myself; a powder blue collared shirt tucked into a light gray pencil skirt with a well fitted blazer to match. My trench coat was thick enough to keep me warm but still I shivered. I was tired. I had just done a show last night and it was only the beginning. I sang and screamed my heart out and the audience felt my dedication. That was all I asked for. As good as we played, I should’ve been partying with the band. But here I was. Up at 6 in the morning. Standing in a goddamn line. At goddamn Starbucks. Waiting for overpriced goddamn coffee. That he probably wouldn’t even goddamn finish goddammit… “Order for Rafe Adler!” the barista called out. I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes as I went to retrieve the coffee.

When I arrived at work, I greeted the receptionist as I always did, said my what’s ups to the coworkers I was cool with, and entered the conference room to set up the stupid little snack plate and pitcher of ice cold cucumber water. Usually I would set up contracts and paperwork and files on opposite ends of the table but there was nothing like that for this meeting. He’d mentioned a couple times to me last week that the meeting today would be a little unorthodox. So I did the bare minimum and sat waiting. I snuck a few pieces of fruit while I did.

Some time had passed and I checked my watch to make sure I wasn’t crazy. My boss was usually no more than 10 minutes late if anything. I picked up my phone to call him. We told the Drake brothers to be here at 8:30. The first try, it went straight to voicemail at which I hung up and tried again. When he didn’t answer the second time, I left a very stressed out and slightly mouthy message. Then I went to the front desk to ask the receptionist if she’d heard from him. When she said no, I placed my hands on my hips and groaned. I went back to the conference room and sat down to wait a little longer, stress eating the fruit plate. The third time, he answered surprisingly. I gasped audibly in relief.

“What the hell, Rafe?!” I snapped. “It is now going on 8:20 and you are nowhere to be found! Where the hell are you?!” It was silent on the other end until he gave a tired groan.

“Shit…. the meeting.” He said.

“Yeah! ‘Shit! The meeting!’” I exclaimed. He sighed and I heard some rustling on the other end before he finally spoke.

“Are they there yet?”

“No not yet.”

“Good. Then I may have some time. I’ll be there soon. Get them whatever they want.” He ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Ms. Lewis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If you ever talk to me like that again, I will have you fired before you even think about having breakfast.” He told me. My heart stopped for a moment. Maybe I was a little too mouthy in my voicemail.

“Yes. Sorry, sir.” I apologized awkwardly before hanging up.

I stayed put and sat resting my head in my arms, staring at my watch. It was now 9:15. Neither Rafe nor the brothers had shown up yet. ‘This is fucking ridiculous…’ I thought. How was it that I was ordered to be present early and I ended up being the only one on time? I groaned loudly, rubbing my fingers against my temples. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. When it opened, a man’s head popped out rather curiously and obviously very lost. He was a little older than myself. Longish curly brown hair pushed back off of his ruggedly charming face. His thick salt and pepper brows raised above his bright hazel eyes almost like a puppy.

“Sorry to bother ya, sweetheart. I was told this was the conference room?” He asked, his voice sounding with a very distinct Boston accent. I made a face and pointed to the words on the door.

“It’s literally marked ‘conference room’...” I said with a bit of attitude. I couldn’t deal with riff raff this early in the morning. He looked at the door and chuckled.

“Ha! So it does. Guess I’m gonna need to invest in a pair of glasses soon, huh?” He said with a handsome grin. A small smile pulled at my lips and I found myself adjusting my hair like a teenager. He was a good looking guy. “Sorry, I’m a little late. Traffic is a bitch here. I’m Sam Drake. I was supposed to be meeting with Rafe here in his…..palace.” He smirked, walking out from behind the door. His little jab at my boss made me chuckle a little but still my stomach flipped at the mention of his name. However, I liked what I saw when he entered the room.

Rafe never mentioned that the Drake Brothers were this handsome. I quite literally had to look up at this man. He was freakishly tall. He wore a denim jacket with the fleece inside, a grey thermal, and dirty jeans with equally dirty work boots. And he had a tattoo of a flock of birds on the left side of his neck. In his long arms he carried a map and a few folders, a backpack slung over his wide shoulders. He put his things down on the table and extended a large rough hand to me. I barely met his chest and I was in heels. When I stood, I awkwardly pushed my hair behind my ear and took his hand to shake it firmly. I was a bit embarrassed that I’d been a little snippy with him.

“Lyric Lewis. Mr. Adler’s Assistant. I’m sorry for my mouth…” I said like an idiot. I hung my head and he chuckled. “I mean, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you when you came in.” I rephrased, suddenly getting lost in his honey colored eyes. I couldn’t stop looking at them. And the worse part of all, was that I was still holding his hand. I giggled nervously, pulling my hand away and taking a step back from him.

“Ah, it's alright. Rafe runnin’ you ragged I see?” He asked as he began to set up whatever he brought with him.

“Tell me about it.” I grumbled and he just smiled.

“Speaking of your boss, he’s not here yet is he?” He asked me.

“No, sir, he’s a little late himself.” I answered. His ears turned a little red when I addressed him that way but it was my job to be polite where Rafe tended to… well not.

“Well good. Maybe we can keep my being late just between us, heh?” He winked at me and it was like I’d been shot with an arrow. He had trouble written all over him and like the dummy I was, I’d fallen for it. I grinned stupidly and nodded. If this was one of the brothers, I couldn’t even imagine what the other was like.

“He doesn’t even have to know, sir.” I smirked. When he finished setting up what looked to be like a couple of maps and tools, he leaned over the table to look inside the water pitcher as the cucumber slices floated about and frowned.

“You got anything other than Rafe’s tears to drink?” He asked me as he sat down in a chair and kicked his large boots up on the table. I tried my best to suppress a laugh and answered his question.

“We have a soda machine…. and coffee from the break room.” I said.

“Regular coffee, right? Not that milky shit people are drinkin’ nowadays?” He asked brashly. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst into laughter and he grinned from ear to ear, obviously scanning my body from head to toe. I placed a hand on my hip and eyed him just as he did me.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just regular shitty office coffee.” I responded, trying to compose myself but I had a smile on my face for once.

“Perfect. That’s all I need.” He said, taking off his heavy denim jacket to reveal an upper body swollen with muscle. I cried inside a little. Just a little.

Just then, the door opened and Rafe came barging in, a cloud of stress looming over him. You could feel it in the room, how he was going to be today, and it wasn’t a very positive vibe. He groaned, sitting his suitcase on the floor next to his chair and shrugged off his pea coat as he sat down in front of his coffee (which was now cold). Before I had the chance to warn him, he’d already taken a sip and he spat it out immediately. Just all over the table, dramatic as hell. I noticed Sam roll his eyes as I sighed. Today was not going to be my day. I didn’t really know what to do at that moment. I just kind of… stared. In surprise.

“This is disgusting!” He snapped, throwing a fit. “Jesus, Lyric, I asked you to do one thing!” He then glanced at the table, looking around. “Where’s my croissant?” He asked me and a light bulb went off so hard in my head that it was visible on my face.

“I completely forgot! I’m so sorry, sir! I can uh…. I can run to the snack machine and get you a Honey Bun or something.” I was rather serious about my answer but clearly he was not amused. He narrowed his eyes at me in annoyance and confusion.

“What the hell is a Honey Bun?” The look on his face was as if he’d just heard a really bad joke. As the words left his mouth, I hung my head. Sam scoffed aloud.

“Sorry, sir. It was a suggestion. But I can order you something small from a restaurant if you’d like.” I mumbled.

“That’s more like it. And when you speak, Lyric, use volume. I can’t hear you for the life of me.” This was all a bit much for first thing in the morning. I could only imagine what got him so pissed off. He rubbed his hands over his face, blinking repeatedly as if he were trying to wake up still.

“Of course, sir.” I replied, pulling out my phone to have food delivered to the building.

“Honestly, Lyric. Your work performance has been going downhill the past two weeks.” He mumbled in irritation. He was right. Ever since Floral and Fading wrote a slew of new songs, we were playing more than just the usual weekend gigs. We’d done a rock festival just last week, several rehearsals on my days off and playing shows… I had been running on fumes for a while now. But I had a feeling that it would be worth it soon. I just had to keep it up a little longer.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Adler. I’ll clean up my act. I promise.” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed that he just chewed me out in front of Sam, who still sat with his legs crossed on the table. After a moment of silence, I could sense Sam’s need to break it.

“Christ, Adler. How bougie can you be?” He said to him, fiddling with the skin on his fingers.

“Good morning to you, too, Samuel.” Rafe sighed, tiredly as he pulled a few things from his suitcase and sat them on the table. “I trust Lyric didn’t give you too much trouble.” He glanced at me for only a second before flipping through the papers he had gathered together. Sam looked at me and smirked.

“Not at all. Your darling assistant has been nothing but helpful to me.” He said, giving me a thumbs up as he made a goofy face.

“That makes one of us.” He snipped, marking notes on a few pieces of paper. I rolled my eyes and looked to Sam, placing my hands behind my back.

“I’ll be right back with your coffee.” I told him politely.

“Thank you, beautiful...” He smirked, admiring my ass as I turned on my heel. I grinned as I put a little extra sway in my hips to give a little show as I left.

Rafe’s POV

I heard Sam wolf whistle as the door closed and I looked up at him a moment as he opened his folders.

“She’s a good lookin’ girl, ay?” He nodded, smiling like a desperate dirty old dog. My eyes never left the paper.

“Who?” I asked, not really caring about the answer.

“Lyric!” He reiterated. My brows furrowed as I looked at him then back to my notes.

“Hmph… I never noticed.” It was true that I hadn’t really paid any attention to my assistant. But then again, I hadn’t paid many women much attention to begin with. Every now and then, if I wanted a good lay, I’d suck it up and socialize for a bit but other than that, I was focused on business. And treasure hunting.

“Oh bullshit, Rafe. You mean to tell me you got a girl like that workin’ for you and you never once took a look at how great her ass is?” He asked me. I shook my head as I continued to look over a few things.

“Not once.” I answered simply.

“Why?!” He exclaimed.

“Because looking at the rear ends of less than average women doesn’t make this company money.” I said. He flexed his lip and nodded.

“Fair enough but I’d say she’s above average. Which you’d know if you took a second to actually look at her when you talk.” I knew exactly what he was getting at.

“I’m not going to sleep with my assistant, Samuel.” I groaned in annoyance.

“I’m not sayin’ you should (even though you should or I will). I’m sayin’ just look at her. Having a beautiful woman like that workin’ for you, that’s a view to take the edge off!” He said. In an idiotic way, I sorta of understood what he meant. But I grunted and changed the subject.

“Where’s Nathan? He didn’t come to lunch yesterday.” I asked and he looked down, biting the skin off his lip.

“Listen, about my brother… I don’t think he’s comin’...” he told me. A bit of anger began to boil in me.

“He what?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“I called around and from everyone is tellin’ me… he’s out. He’s got a wife and all that. Nice job, nice house, the works. I don’t wanna pull him from that if I don’t have to.” He said. I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Nate’s out?” I asked.

“Nate’s out…” He mumbled in confirmation. I nodded, trying to accept the small change. I wasn’t happy about not having my full team but Samuel was the expert on the subject of Henry Avery. We were in a search for his lost treasure. But first we needed to track down a clue. The same clue that got this man locked up in a Panamanian jail for what was almost life. The broken, hollow Saint Dismas cross we found 15 years ago had a second. This one was still intact. We just needed to get a hold of it. Whatever was in the other cross was definitely still inside this one. So I bought up all the land around the St. Dismas cathedral in Scotland and sent people to scavenge the area. The problem was that I kept running into all these dead ends. But I could feel it in my bones. We were going to find it no matter the cost.

After a few minutes, Lyric had returned with Samuel’s coffee in hand and she strutted over to sit in front of him. His hand graced over hers a moment as he gave her a smile and a wink. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He said to her before sipping on his drink. Then she turned to me.

“Mr. Adler, I ordered for you a French toast with fruit and a latte.” She told me and I waved her off.

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine….” I mumbled. Suddenly I thought about what Samuel told me. And I don’t know why but the words “look at her” kept ringing in my ears. So I looked up, only to be met with a lovely set of brown eyes. Her dark curls framed her face in the most flattering was; her lashes were long and her makeup was fresh, her lips were perfectly curved and plush. Even with the exhaustion played out on her face, she was still a rather beautiful woman. “Thank you… Ms. Lewis, that’ll be all for now…” I managed to say. She walked over to me and picked up the coffee she brought me and leaned over to clean up the mess I made. I may have caught a glimpse of cleavage as she did but I quickly averted my attention back to the papers and blueprints before me.

“If you need anything…” she glanced at Samuel and they exchanged a cheeky smirk before returning her eyes to me. “I’ll be at my desk. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork I need to get started on.” She said. “I will bring you your breakfast when it arrives, sir.” I nodded as my eyes ran over her features. When she smiled, a pair of dimples imprinted into the skin of her round cheeks. ‘Cute.’ I thought simply. Not really thinking much of it. When she turned to leave, I found myself staring after her, admiring her backside. I hated to admit it but Samuel was right. She had a pretty great ass. I sighed tiredly as he looked over at me, wiggling his thick brows at me with a cheesy grin.

“I saw that, Rafe.” He said as he turned in his seat to face me. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“We have work to do.” I said, changing the subject immediately. Today was going to be a long one….

#uncharted #uncharted 4 #rafe adler x oc #rafe adler #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted smut

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