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mochegato · 4 years

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Pixie Spy

Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

Marinette laid on Nino’s living room floor studying the stolen Grimoire files on her tablet. She had been staring at the same page for the last two hours, making little progress. Just because she could translate the ancient text, it didn’t mean it was easy or quick. In fact, it was headache inducing and with Adrien focusing on keeping them caught up on homework while she and Chloe were otherwise occupied, she was translating alone. She knew there were amazing secrets held in the texts, the drawings promised amazing new powers for each of the miraculous, she just needed to decode them.

She scrunched her eyes closed and rubbed them to clear her vision that had started crossing. Now, she decided, was a perfect time to take a break. She looked around the room for a distraction. Adrien was near her on the floor, leaning against the couch and working on the physics assignment they had received that day, having already finished the calculus assignment. Alya, having already passed her research onto Chloe, was on the couch working on the French Lit homework. Nino was sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on Alya’s lap, not working on anything, staring off into space with a furrowed brow instead.

Everyone was working quietly except for Chloe who was making her discontent with her surroundings abundantly clear through her frequent huffs and exaggerated movements. She was sitting in a chair making notes in a notebook referencing her laptop occasionally. She huffed and wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, “Tell me again why we have to do this here?” Chloe demanded, not bothering to mask her disgust with the middle class surroundings.

“We can’t meet in the hotel because we can’t take the chance the Waynes would see Marinette walking in the lobby or the hallway. We can’t meet at Adrien’s place because Asshole Dad. We can’t meet at Marinette’s in case they’ve made her already. That leaves my place or here and my place has the twins who are currently both grounded and bored so… that leaves here.” Alya explained calmly, not bothering to look up from her homework.

“Yeah, yeah, but couldn’t we have met at like a nice café or pub?” Chloe whined, rubbing her arms as though contact with the chair fabric were scratching her.

“And take the texts outside?” Adrien asked with a raised brow motioning toward Marinette.

“Plus until we know how much they know, it is probably best I’m not seen out more than absolutely necessary, hence the…” she indicated the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Kim some time ago she had been wearing all day, mostly with her hood up, completely enveloping her head.

“I thought that was so you could hide from Laurence…” Alya said with a sly grin.

“Or Noelle,” Adrien threw in.

“Or Ignace…” Chloe added, keeping her focus on her laptop.

“Okay stop. Really, Chloe? Wouldn’t you much rather talk about the throngs of people throwing themselves at you?” Marinette attempted to divert her to one of her favorite topics, herself.

“Oh sweetie, we don’t have that kind of time.” Chloe said throwing her ponytail over her shoulder. “We’re just talking about the ten or twenty we know about willing to let you tie them up and beat them like a piñata then thank you for the privilege.”

“That sounds like a regular Saturday night for you, Chlo,” Alya grinned.

“I…I don’t know how to react to that.” Marinette scrunched her face in confusion. “My first inclination is to say she’s exaggerating, but it’s Chloe and if anything she would underplay it. Plus I am extremely not happy with that little insight into Chloe’s bedroom, so… I’m going to ignore this entire conversation.” Marinette said turning back to her tablet.

Adrien looked up from his notes for a few moments staring in thought at nothing, “Valid,” he nodded, turning back to his work as well.

Nino had stayed silent throughout the conversation staring instead unfocused at a spot on the floor for the past few minutes. Adrien glanced back at him with curiosity. “Hey,” he smacked his hand into Nino’s leg, “you okay there? You completely missed us teasing Marinette about her fans. That’s one of your favorite topics.”

“Ahhh, Laurence… yeah, that dude makes me nervous. Michel is cute though. I could see that.” Marinette gave an affronted squawk. Nino continued without acknowledging her, “No, I was just thinking… we know Batman’s secret identity.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said uncertainly.

“And he doesn’t know ours.” Nino continued.

“Right,” Adrien encouraged still not sure where the conversation was going.

“And we have you and Chloe, both pretty famous and could easily end up at a party or event with at least one of them…” Nino mused thinking out loud.

“True.”

“So… how much can we mess with him about it without getting killed?” Nino asked raising his brow with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Dude!” Adrien exclaimed excitedly, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“You want us to prank the Dark Knight?” Alya looked at him like he was crazy.

“Really?” Marinette deadpanned.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is potentially fraught with danger. We might need to bring Alix and Max in on this.” Nino nodded still thinking about how he could manage it.

Alya dropped her head into her hands, “Idiot.” She muttered shaking her head in her hands, not entirely sure if he was joking or not. Honestly, either option was possible.

“Well, that makes you two perfect for each other,” Chloe deadpanned still focused on writing something down in her notebook missing the withering look Alya shot her.

“Okay Kim,” Marinette rolled her eyes at Nino. She looked uncertain for a moment then pushed herself back until she was sitting on her heels and spoke hesitantly, “Or… we could discuss if we are still certain we don’t want the Batfamily here. Are we sure we don’t want their help?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Alya replied, her voice bordering on disbelief that Marinette would even ask. “We know what the Justice League is like. We know what they’ve done and we have a damn good idea what they could do given half the chance. We gave in on Constantine and look what happened. We cannot trust them.”

“Think about the last few weeks, Marinette. Think how much worse they would have been if those people had powers to begin with and understood the extent of their powers, how to push them, how to exploit them. What to ask for from Hawkmoth to do the most damage?” Nino added.

“The bats don’t have superpowers.” Marinette defended.

“But they work with people who do. They have strategized attack plans around people who have powers. They understand them and what’s most effective…” Chloe added barely looking up from her notepad.

“And they are incredibly well trained in combat and strategic planning… It would be hard enough without them having super powers. With them, we would be fucked.” Adrien added cutting in on Chloe’s statement.

“We are barely keeping up as it is. If one of the bats of Justice League were to get akumatized…” Nino let the statement trail off, allowing everyone to use their imagination to fill in the rest.

“Exactly! We are barely keeping up. Do we need to consider getting help? From someone with more experience and different skills? From someone with experience using superpowers against an opponent?” Marinette ran a hand over her face, “I’m just… I’m getting scared. And I don’t know if that is because I’m seeing a pattern or if I’m just frustrated with where we are and desperate for any change. And the more distance I have from it, the more I wonder if Constantine was right. Is it time to bring someone in, but we’re just too scared to try something different?”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by a banal, obvious statement,” she glared at Adrien, “they have a good understanding of powers, their strengths and weaknesses, and how to strategize around them, which would make them powerful akumas, or incredibly advantageous assets against an akuma.” Everyone stared at her in surprise. “Stunned looks terrible on you.” She said making clear she was directing it to all of them. “The silent awe of me is appropriate though.” She said sitting back in her chair only to immediately grunt and start squirming against the fabric again.

“It isn’t just the powers, I don’t trust them, especially Batman. If we give them half the chance, I’m afraid they will try to take the miraculous because they think they could wield them and protect them better.” Adrien admitted.

The group took a second to let both sides of the argument sink in, unsure how to move forward. Both outcomes could lead to horrific outcomes that nobody wanted to allow. They were all afraid and they knew they were, but like Marinette, they didn’t know if the fear was holding them back from making a mistake or from having a breakthrough.

After a few moments of quiet, Nino broke the quiet in a soothing voice, “We have no way to know which way things will tilt. Let’s see what we get from the files and reassess then. No reason to introduce more chaos until we know what we have to work with already. Have you found anything yet?”

“A bit. Ugh,” she said accepting the change of topic and looking at her notebook with disgust, “this would be so much easier if the kwamis could just tell us all the possible uses of the miraculous were and the ways they could be combined.”

“Yeah, but then Hawkmoth would have known too… and Mayura and Argus.” Tikki pointed out.

“That’s a horrifying thought. I don’t think we could have taken Hawkmoth and Mayura when we started if they had known all their options.” Adrien shuttered thinking about it.

“That’s why they created the rule that kwami could only tell the very basic powers and responsibilities. Anything more than that can only come from the Order, so if anyone stole a miraculous, they wouldn’t be able to effectively wield it, making it easier for trained wielders to get it back.” Trixx said.

“A bit more effective back when there was an Order and masters who actually trained wielders, but you know, times change,” Plagg shrugged with a thinly disguised disgust.

“Okay but let me just say not having known this,” Marinette turned the tablet around for them to see the image of the dragon miraculous she had been studying, “was an option is extremely upsetting.”

“Dibs!” Nino called out, jumping up from the couch before anyone else could call it.

“Fuck you, I saw it first. I’ve got dibs. I’ve got plans for it.” Marinette blew him off.

“No way, you’re going to see all of them first.” Nino pouted.

Marinette grinned at him, “Guardian” she singsonged.

Trixx floated up closer to the tablet. “Oh that one. Yeah, everyone likes that one. It’s actually just a variation of the power you know already so it is a lot easier to pick up than it looks.”

Plagg floated next to her to check it out too. “If you like that one, just wait until you find out about…” his sentence was cut off by an overflow of green bubbles falling out of his mouth, causing him to glare at nothing and everything at the same time.

“Okay enough of that. My turn.” Chloe announced turning her laptop to display pictures of each of the Waynes and their alter egos.

Adrien leaned forward to get a closer look at the images and suddenly his eyes got huge and he gasped, “Oh my God… in the name of all that is holy and good in this world, please tell me the one in the godawful, Red Skull wannabe mask is the one you were making heart eyes at all night. Please, please, please…” Adrien begged Marinette.

Marinette refused to meet his eyes and pursed her lips, focusing intently on the laptop. “No comment.”

“It is him! Can I please, please be there when you ‘discuss’ that mask with him before we kick him out?” Adrien said shaking with delight at the thought of it.

Marinette glared at him, “We are going to be focusing on getting them out of Paris without drawing further curiosity or ire, not their wardrobe.” She pointed out turning to Chloe with an expectant look trying to prompt her to continue but couldn’t stop herself from whipping back toward Adrien, “And, I don’t even know if he was even interested in me at all. It’s far more likely they are concerned about the situation than he is about getting a date.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “You’re not that stupid, Dupain-Cheng. The honeypotting wouldn’t have worked if he wasn’t interested.”

“I did NOT honeypot him…. And I still don’t know what that means!” Marinette yelled exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah. But I get to be there right?” Adrien implored ignoring her annoyance and still not giving her a definition. At this point, it was a matter of pride… or comedy. Either way, he was dedicated to never telling her what it meant.

“Oooooo and me too,” Alya jumped in.

“You should just leave your com on so we can all hear.” Chloe commented with feigned disinterest.

“We should put it on speaker. The kwamis will want to hear it too.” Nino agreed with a grin.

“I hate all of you,” Marinette grumbled crossing her arms in front of her as she pouted.

Adrien chuckled at her before putting her out of her misery, “Okay, Chlo. What did you figure out?”

“So, I focused on Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne. I couldn’t get an identity on Spoiler and there is no public information on Cassandra Cain, who is probably Batgirl, so I could only look at her vigilante work. But if Constantine is right, they are both still in Shanghai. It is unlikely they would have brought them in just to talk with us. So for tonight, they don’t matter.” Chloe explained before continuing with her analysis.

“The rest of the Wayne family are a treasure trove of insecurities, pressure points, and triggers. I’m just going to go over the biggest ones since we hopefully will only have to deal with them for a few minutes at the most. These unstable assholes are definitely Hawkmoth’s wet dream. Extremely well trained and no control over their emotions. All have extreme versions of insecurity complexes, but react differently.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne is a control freak. His public persona isn’t much help. As far as I can tell, most of it is a mask. He pretends to be a drunk, irresponsible, billionaire playboy but we know he’s Batman so all that is bullshit. What isn’t is that he is a good negotiator and actor, all of which means he can be a good manipulator and we know from his experience as Batman that he is extremely strategic. Be suspect of anything he tells you. His intentions appear to stem from a genuine concern with making lives better, but how much he is willing to listen to other people’s opinion of what constitutes better is questionable, especially after what we know of the Justice League’s actions. He has a history of enforcing his vision onto other people, whether they want it or not, of taking control. He needs to be in control, or feel like he is so he can prepare for what is coming and make sure it doesn’t turn against him.

“The oldest, Richard John Grayson, has a martyr complex. He’s so devoted to the saving people thing he became a cop in his civilian life as well, by all accounts an uncorrupt one, and that’s saying something in Gotham and Blüdhaven. Takes on too much at one time trying to fix everything and feels responsible for every bad thing that happens, even if he wasn’t there… especially if he wasn’t there, to stop it. If he only would have done whatever, then the bad thing wouldn’t have happened. If only he was better, blah, blah, blah. Sound familiar?” she looks pointedly at Marinette. “That’s his weakest spot. He takes the blame.

“The next, Jason Peter Todd has abandonment issues. He’s constantly waiting for people to walk away from him like his parents did. There is something more there, I know there is, like whatever happened when he disappeared for a few years, but we don’t have access to that information. Ridiculously protective of kids on the street, I think because he essentially grew up on them himself. But, here’s the catch, he became a crime lord in order to protect them. He is willing to go dark to protect people, so they never have to feel like he did and never have to do what he had to do. He’s straightforward and aggressive. He feels like everyone is going to walk away from him because he isn’t enough for them to stay. He’s dangerous.

“The next, Timothy Jackson Drake has inadequacy issues. Wealthy, absentee parents who likely never treated him like anything more than a business asset.” She looked sympathetically at Adrien. “He is a certified genius. Started running Wayne Enterprises a few years ago. He likes a challenge and is an incredible negotiator. He likes working things out on his own. He’s smart and curious. He knows exactly what to ask in order to get the information he needs without you even knowing that’s what he did. Be careful answering any questions or reacting to any statements from him. He is constantly trying to prove himself so people will love him. He takes any failure extremely personally because it means he doesn’t deserve love and a reminder that he isn’t who he thought he was and therefore not worthy.

“The youngest, Damian Wayne, known as the Ice Prince in Gotham, has a superiority complex. Nobody gets close to him and nobody wants to. He showed up in Gotham at age 10 with a fully-fledged attitude. Everyone and everything is beneath him. He also drives himself to extremes in order to confirm his superiority. He insults and belittles others because he believes he should be superior to everyone around him, but he is afraid he isn’t and if he isn’t better, then he is significantly worse.”

The rest of the room looked at her sympathetically. They all knew she wasn’t just talking about Damian. That was her up until a few years ago. She needed to believe she was better than everyone else and needed everyone around her to believe it too. If she was better then she deserved her parents’ love. If she had everyone else’s love, it made it easier to fool herself into believing her parents loved her as well, or blunt the feeling when she would realize just how much they didn’t. But years of therapy, a higher purpose, and real friends that truly wanted the best for her but refused to take any shit from her, made her realize she didn’t need to be that person to deserve love.

“Also keep in mind there are likely significant trust issues going on here.” Chloe continued ignoring the looks from the rest of the room. “There are a lot of reports of violence between Red Hood and Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin, Red Hood and… everyone actually, as well as Robin and Red Robin. Based on fact that violence is higher immediately after a changing of the guard, I’d say the passing of the mantle from one Robin to another has never been consensual and likely contributed to their complexes. They are held together by the thinnest of threads. We can snap that if we need to… but I don’t think we want to go that far. If we snap that… I don’t know how much damage that will do or if they will come back from it.” She cautioned hesitantly.

“Agreed. I don’t want to go there. There is plenty to use without going into the family issues, without causing irreparable damage.” Marinette concurred. They didn’t want the Bat family in Paris but they didn’t want to destroy them either. She wasn’t willing to let herself or her team become monsters in order to stop them. At the end of the day, they were ultimately all on the same team, they all wanted the same outcome, they just had different ways they wanted to get there… and different ideas about who got to decide that… and who should lead it…

“God these people need a hug not whatever that ‘family’ of theirs is providing each other.” Nino said aghast at the report.

“Marinette’s already on top of that, at least for one of them…” Alya smirked.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her.

“I’m on top of that one,” Nino grinned, raising his hand.

“Oh God. Seriously we need to investigate that brain bleach thing,” Marinette groaned squeezing her eyes shut trying to keep that image from appearing.

“Okay,” Adrien announced over everyone, “we all agree after this whole Hawkmoth thing is over, I get to kick Constantine’s ass and we all portal over to the Batcave and hug the insecure, unfairly cute, prickly, little echidnas until they feel better, right?” Adrien asked solemnly.

“Ugh, fine but I’m not hugging the gremlin. Someone else gets that one,” Chloe called out throwing out her arms.

The room stilled as everyone else looked at each other, “Not it!” they all called at almost the exact same moment.

“Damn it,” Nino cried as he realized he had been a few seconds slower than everyone else.

“That’s what you get for being a turtle. When the confrontation happens, I got the pampered rich kid.” Chloe announced. This was her area. She knew just where to push kids like that, like her. She knew exactly what to say to get them, her, to hit them at their most vulnerable. To push just enough to make an impact without breaking them.

“No, Chloe. We don’t want to tip our hand and we need you guys to stand sentry. I want you, Alya, and Nino to hang back acting as scouts. This is likely to go bad and I need you guys in a triangular formation a block out watching for akumas. Adrien and I will talk to them.”

“Alone?” Nino asked tentatively. His job was to protect. He didn’t like the idea of not being close enough to act if they should need it.

“They aren’t going to attack us, at least not physically. And we will take an extra miraculous each.” Marinette smiled gently to placate him.

“Are you sure two is enough, m’lady?” Adrien asked curiously.

“You sure you aren’t just trying to keep it a bit more intimate for you and your boy?” Alya waggled her eyebrows.

Marinette glared at her, “Two should be enough.” She said ignoring the previous statement, “Combined with your two, we should be able to cover what we need to. It’s just the Batfamily. We should be able to handle them with just one each even if they wanted to attack us.” She grinned at Adrien. “Magic, gotta love it.”

“Okay but when he calls you incompetent, which he will, you need to push back. Point out the ways he’s failed. He isn’t better than us, no matter what he thinks and the sooner you make him realize that, the sooner the real conversation can start.” Chloe warned.

“He is all of, what, 13? We are not going to try to emotionally damage a child.” Nino stated flatly.

“As long as he thinks he is better than us, he won’t take us seriously.” Chloe warned. Nino just glared back at her, not willing to give in on this. “Fine, if you don’t want to point out his failings, then point out the most impressive things we’ve done that they haven’t. That should suffice. Not as effective, but it should get you there.”

“Okay, if we’re going to start discussing strategy, we’re going to need some sustenance. Let’s get dinner ready so we can start discussing the plan for tonight,” Alya said throwing Nino’s legs off her lap. Marinette and Nino followed her to the kitchen leaving Chloe and Adrien behind.

“You know, I noticed something with your analysis, Chloe,” Adrien started quietly keeping his eyes on their friends.

“I would hope you noticed more than just one thing,” Chloe chided him.

“Cute,” he said rolling his eyes, “Jason was the only one you said was dangerous, why is that?

“I thought it was obvious? The others have a limit. I don’t know that he does. And Marinette likes him, a lot. He has a power to hurt her that the others don’t. And they are very different. They are both willing to go as far as necessary to help others, but to her that means killing herself, to him that means killing everyone else and himself,” She looked at him uncertainly, “and I’m not sure how she will react to that.”

“You think he would do that if we let him stay here?”

“I don’t know enough about him to predict what he will do. He dialed it back to work with the bats again but… There really isn’t that much on him. I can tell you what Red Hood has done and that is bad, but not Jason Todd. Since he disappeared, presumed dead, hell maybe he was, who knows what happens in Gotham, there is nothing on Jason Todd. If you want me to try to predict, you can hop on down to Africa and see if you can borrow the kwami of prediction. Until then, it’s all guesswork. I need to see him. See how he acts before I could even try.”

He stared at her for a few seconds a look of utter confusion on his face, “You think the kwami of prediction is in Africa?”

“Do you ever hear any miraculous related shit doing down in Africa?” she fixed him with a knowing stare.

“No,” he said cautiously

“Exactly, because they know what’s coming and they do their fucking jobs.” She winked at him and walked away.

<><><><><>

Bruce, Jason, Tim, and Damian sat in the living area of Bruce’s hotel room in various states of suited up for the night. They had barely had time to throw their bags in their rooms before meeting up to prepare for the night. Damian was completely dressed and ready to go on a moment’s notice, as always more than ready to focus on business. Bruce and Tim were in everything but their masks, choosing comfort until they had to leave. Jason was sitting in a large chair in just his pants and shirt, attempting to look relaxed and nonchalant about them being so close to the girl he met at the gala. They were all staring at a massive screen linking them to Dick, Alfred, and Selina in the Batcave.

“So, how’s Paris, boys?” Selina asked from her position lounging in one of the chairs. “Meet any interesting people yet? Jason?” She added with a smirk.

“You know Bruce, all work and no play. We haven’t gotten a chance to get out and meet anyone. Doing this instead.” Jason shrugged with a practiced indifference, forcing himself to recline further back into the chair in an effort to seem casual.

“Haven’t even gotten to see the Eiffel Tower yet?” She asked in mock sympathy.

“Oh, no, we saw it… from the plane.” Jason played along.

“You really should make sure to visit the Eiffel Tower while there, Master Bruce.” Alfred threw in trying to downplay his amused smile.

“It’s not as impressive as you think it will be,” Tim muttered to nobody in particular.

“We’re here for a reason, Jason. If we don’t want to lose today, we need to get started immediately…” Bruce admonished him but upon looking up and seeing Alfred’s unimpressed look added, “We can get lunch near the Eiffel Tower tomorrow. Better?” He looked to Alfred who switched to small smile instead. Taking that as approval, Bruce nodded to Tim indicating they were ready for him to start his presentation.

Tim nodded to Bruce and moved to the front of the group and pulled up an image from the Ladyblog displaying five superheroes and their names on half of the screen. “I’ve found a few local resources on the heroes we couldn’t see back home and have downloaded their contents and sent them back to you guys,” he said nodding toward the half of the screen displaying the cave, “so you can look through the information as well. I’m not sure what is preventing the data from being accessible from America, but I suspect magic.” He glared at the screen like it personally offended him, “I hate magic.

“I’ve only had about 30 minutes to prepare so this is going to be brief. I mainly focused on… well actually I mainly focused on figuring out the best resources for information, downloading copies of the site content, and sending a copy back to the batcomputer. But after that, I mainly focused on figuring out who the heroes are so we know who we might run into and who to look for tonight.

“The available information indicates a villain named Hawkmoth appeared in Paris roughly five years ago…”

“Huh. Where have I heard that before?” Jason muttered from his seat.

“… and the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared at the same time.” Tim continued a bit louder this time. “There appear to be five regular heroes and a few heroes that appear from time to time. Here are images of the heroes we know about,” he nodded to the image on the screen. He switched briefly to another image displaying the lesser known heroes before returning to the image of the main five heroes. “Not every battle is caught on camera and of the battles that are caught, most of the actual fighting is not caught, making it easy to miss heroes and villains in the fight. The resources make it clear there likely are more heroes that we don’t know about, which I would say is a definite since your girlfriend didn’t appear on any of the sites.” He nodded toward Jason who just huffed and crossed his arms in response, not willing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“The primary heroes are Ladybug and Chat Noir, with Ladybug as the leader. Those are the two we need to convince if we want any information. We know a few identities of past heroes, including a girl who lives in this hotel, Chloe Bourgeois. She was a bee themed heroine named Queen Bee. Since then another bee themed heroine has appeared and is one of the 5 regulars.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the screen, “It looks like the same person. Could it be her in a different costume?”

“I don’t think so,” Tim answered shaking his head, “When I was looking at her page on the sites I think I saw that she has been seen at the same time as the new bee hero. I can analyze it more when I get more time, but the local experts don’t appear to think they are. We don’t know the identity of the new bee.”

“You think they look similar?” Dick asked incredulously. “You’re crazy. Their costume, hair color, eye color, height, everything is different.” Jason looked between Dick and the image of the two bee wielders a few times. One of them was crazy, he just wasn’t sure which one of them it was.

“Figure out where she lives then you should arrange to run into her tomorrow.” Bruce said nodding toward Tim.

Tim gave a single nod to Bruce accepting the assignment. “There seems to have been a massive overhaul of heroes about a year into the fight. All of the heroes except Ladybug and Chat Noir were replaced with new heroes. No explanation was given… or maybe there is one I just haven’t found it yet.”

Damian scoffed, “There’s one villain and five or more heroes and they haven’t been able to take him down? Pathetic. These are the people entrusted with objects capable to destroying the world?”

“I haven’t been able to get much information yet so we don’t know exactly what is going on but it looks like there is more than just Hawkmoth. He might be a leader or mastermind behind the villains. I’ve seen at least a few other villain names mentioned when looking up the heroes.”

“Do we think they all have a miraculous as well?” Dick asked.

“Not sure. I haven’t gotten that far yet, but it stands to reason.” Tim nodded absentmindedly.

Jason moved closer to the screen staring intently at the pictures of Ladybug from different years. There was something familiar about her but there was something else sitting on the edge of his consciousness, he just needed to figure out what his subconscious was trying to tell him. His eyebrows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes trying to block out anything but the images. His eyes widened as the realization suddenly hit him, “Mother fucker!” He whipped around to Tim, “Do we have any indication of how old these heroes are? They look like babies in those older pictures.”

Tim shrugged, “Haven’t gotten that far yet so, not sure. But I glanced at a section on Ladybug and Chat Noir throughout history so at least for them, somewhere between 5 and 5000. I should have a better idea tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to read a bit more.” He squinted at the pictures, “You think they look young?”

“You don’t?” Jason asked incredulously.

Damian examined the images a bit harder as well. “They do seem around my age in the first images.”

“Really? I’m with Tim, I can’t tell either. I can’t get a good feel for age when I look at the pictures.” Dick’s voice came over the speaker. “That’s strange. Their faces are at least partially exposed. I should be able to get an idea at least.” He paused for a few seconds. “Do you think the magic is helping conceal their identities as well?”

Tim stared at the images as well, moving slowly closer to them, “Maybe,” he nodded subconsciously, “I can’t get a feel either. The longer I stare at them the harder it is to tell anything.”

“Magic.” Bruce shook his head in disgust. “Anything else to tell us tonight, Tim?”

Tim shook his head “Not today. I’ll have more tomorrow.”

Bruce nodded a thanks and switched places with Tim. Damian scowled at Tim and moved to put some distance between him and Tim. Tim fought off rolling his eyes in annoyance, but only just managed it. Bruce turned to the rest of the team, “Okay, as soon as we are done here, we’ll start scouting the city to see if we can make contact. We are not looking to be too subtle with this. We want them to know we are here. If you catch sight of them, let the rest of us know we will send someone to talk to them about a meeting later tonight or tomorrow. I want to make this very clear. Our goal today is to meet the local heroes and set up a meeting in the next few days in order to gather more information. The primary mission is recon. We have no idea what exactly is going on here or how dangerous it is. We are not engaging tonight. We want them to trust us, think we’re on their side, and get as much information out of them as we can, on the situation and the miraculous.”

“If we want them to trust us, we should leave the rabid squirrel here. Or better yet, send his petty ass home. He’s only going to cause trouble.” Jason griped, motioning toward Damian. Tim did roll his eyes this time. It was a stupid fight to pick. Damian wasn’t going anywhere. Damian wanted to come and Bruce gave in. They were just on containment duty now, trying to minimize the damage Damian would do.

“You’ve made your feelings more than abundantly clear on the matter, Little Wing, frequently. Damian is there now. Deal with it.” Dick reprimanded him, tired of this conversation. Jason hadn’t gotten his way in their discussion in the Batcave. He hadn’t gotten his way discussing it the next day. He hadn’t gotten his way in the car on the way to the airport or boarding the plane or on the plane or deplaning or while checking into the hotel, he wasn’t going to get Damian kicked off the mission now.

“Someone needs to be there to make sure you don’t tell them all our secrets trying to impress some vapid, philistine harpy.” Damian snapped turning his back to Jason.

It was a small miscalculation, but in this family that is all that is needed. By moving away from Tim, he had placed himself close to Jason and by turning, he had left himself open to Jason’s much longer arm reach. Jason grabbed Damian’s cape and yanked back sharply. “Watch your mouth, you puerile, creepy, little shit.” Damian let out a startled grunt before landing with a loud thump on the ground. He growled at Jason and tensed to pounce on him.

“Jason!” Bruce admonished moving between the two boys. “Let’s focus on the mission.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Of fucking course that would be Bruce’s reaction. “Right. Don’t want to prevent the oncoming disaster if it’s coming from inside the house.” He leaned back in the chair with a huff. “You want to focus on the mission, Old Man? Fine. Coming at them with an almost full team that includes this asshole,” he motioned toward Damian, “doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust us’, does it? Do we really want everyone to show up to this thing? Maybe one or two of you should stay in the room.”

“Considering your girlfriend threatened to leave us bloody and broken, more is probably a safer bet. We probably should have insisted on Dick coming as well, maybe have the girls meet us here too. And do you really want to leave Damian unsupervised?” Tim asked with a raised brow fully facing him. The only way to attempt to contain Damian at this point was to keep him close and Jason knew it.

“You could stay with him. We weren’t planning on actually having a discussion tonight anyway. That way you could get more research done and someone could watch the child.” Jason reasoned. Tim nodded in thought. Not a bad idea at all. He would like more time to research before they actually interacted with any of the heroes. But it came from Jason so there must be something wrong with it. He just needed to figure out what it was.

Damian growled at the description. “I am not a child.”

Jason scoffed back at him, “You act like one.”

Damian jumped at him flipping midair and unsheathing his katana, landing with it a few centimeters from Jason’s jugular, “Could a child do that?”

“One just did.” Jason glowered at him, hitting the sword away.

“Jason has a point.” Dick spoke up, breaking the tension. Damian whipped his head to Dick’s image on the screen his face giving away a flash of hurt before almost immediately schooling his expression into a blank look.

“Did that hurt to say?” Jason asked with a smirk, “It looked like it hurt. That’s okay sometimes the most satisfying things do.”

“Yeah, that’s healthy,” Tim muttered to himself.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued on, ignoring Jason, “Sending so many, especially hostile ones, looks like a power play. It looks like you’re trying to intimidate them.”

“We are,” Damian snapped at him.

“You aren’t.” Dick corrected him. “You’re trying to get them on your side. You are trying to get them to trust you. Not scare them.”

“We won’t all show up to meet them. I’ll take the lead along with Tim. Jason and Damian will hold back and watch.” Bruce clarified. “For tonight I want everyone out and about so we can cover more ground and hopefully either run into one of the heroes or make our presence known enough to get their attention for tomorrow.”

“If this” Damian indicated all of them in the room, “is all it takes to scare them, they need our help more than we thought.”

“He didn’t say it would scare them, he said it looks like we are trying to scare them.” Jason responded with a sharp edge to his voice.

“You’re welcome to stay back in the room.” Tim offered annoyed with the conversation.

“I have information I want too” Jason growled at him.

“We are not here to get information on that woman.” Tim rebuked him.

“You aren’t” Jason muttered turning away.

“Jason” Bruce said sternly, “We are here to collect data on the miraculous and the heroes and see how much danger we and the world are in and if something needs to be done.”

“Not get you a date with a girl you don’t know and don’t even know if she is interested.” Tim taunted him.

“This is not about getting a date,” Jason defended himself.

Tim, Dick, and Damian all scoffed in unison while Bruce and Alfred gave Jason a skeptical look. Selina sat in the background with an amused smile. Really, the only result she was interested in from this mission was Jason finding his girl.

Jason glared at him before turning to Bruce, “I know what we’re here for…” He wouldn’t turn a date down if it should come up and if he managed to find her, he was definitely going to ask her. But, his priority was to help her, which meant both finding her and getting information on the miraculous. If he wanted to achieve both of his goals, he first needed to focus on that the family wanted… for now, so they would be distracted and he could focus on his other mission alone. “What exactly were you thinking might need to be done?”

“Whatever we have to.” Bruce responded calmly but with steel in his eyes.

Jason furrowed his brows at Bruce. That explanation was significantly more hostile than the original mission statement. Not that he was surprised, but Bruce stating it so plainly meant he considered it a higher probability. “That’s a far cry from the ‘we’re just gathering information’ mission you extolled earlier.” Jason gritted out.

“It’s all related.” Bruce stated.

“Why do you think we’re here, Todd? We need to figure out if we need to acquire the miraculous and how to do so.” Damian snapped at him.

“You’re planning on taking the miraculous?” Tim rounded on Bruce, his confusion evident, having come to the same conclusion as Jason. “You said over and over again you didn’t think we needed to worry about the girl that broke into the cave and now you’re planning on stealing their miraculous?”

“We are not going to steal their miraculous!” Jason exclaimed. What the hell was going on? He had thought they were making progress. Bruce agreed to investigate and offer help fight Paris’ villain and now they were planning on taking out the heroes themselves.

“We are going to assess the situation.” Bruce clarified trying to pacify them and bring emotions down to a quiet rumbling rather than a full out roar. Completely content was never an option and Bruce knew it.

“We wouldn’t steal Green Lantern’s ring, we shouldn’t even be thinking about touching theirs.” Jason yelled.

“We would if he were evil.” Dick reasoned, not at all surprised by the turn of events and long past getting upset when Bruce made plans like these. Bruce liked to be prepared. The Paris heroes might not ever do anything evil. They might become allies, but that wouldn’t stop Bruce from figuring out their weaknesses and how to take them down should the need arise.

“If they were evil, Constantine wouldn’t be helping them.” Jason argued back, his face starting to turn red, “Not wanting to have you interfere doesn’t make them evil B.” Jason argued back.

“We are not planning on taking anything, but we need to be prepared if things go bad. We don’t know enough to even begin to guess what could go wrong to cause us to step in. At this stage, we are just trying to get an idea what is going on so we can get a better idea of what to ask later so we can make a plan.” Bruce started moving toward the balcony doors as he pulled on his cowl, “Now finish suiting up. Let’s go.”

“Oh this is going to go just fucking swimmingly,” Jason muttered under his breath as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his helmet. Tim hummed in agreement and started bracing for the worst, which was standard practice at this point.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@loveswifi @mystery-5-5 @dreamykitty25 @ira-sairain @wannajointhecrabcult @susiej1118 @our-preciousss @casual-darkness @ertyzeta @mandy984 @darkthunder1589 @chez-pezeater @emilytopaz @elements1999 @nik-nak-3 @mermaidreject @dramatic-squirrel @thenillabean @alysrose-starchild @phoenixperegrinebitch @nickristus-dreamer @goblinwhoships @no-username2544 @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @valeks-princess @2confused-2doanything @redscarlet95 @icebluedolphin2365 @inarachi02 @unrepentantgeek @maybe-nonsense @theymakeupfairies @smolplantmum @moongoddesskiana @thehufflepuffranger-blog @fusser90 @spyofthenightcourt @jayverca @animegirlweeb @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @consumeconstantly @lozzybowe @novicevoice @random-fandoms7 @acoolspacegirl @laurcad123 @dast218 @frieddonutsweets @maribat-is-lifeblood @g-arya @fantasiame @lilkymilky @corabeth11 @fc-studios @roselynfey @babylovebug18 @pepelachanel @atramentias @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @iloontjeboontje @spicybelladonna @kokotaru @zalladane

Note: *Sigh* I honestly thought they would meet again, kinda, in this chapter, but then they didn’t, the unruly bastards. So very sorry. Next chapter I promise! I swear it is the next scene.

#maribat #jasonette #Pixie Spy

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nsheetee · 4 years

Text

mocha | jeno

pairing: basketball player!jeno x barista!reader genre: coffee shop au | fluff, slight angst summary: you tutor star basketball player jeno when you realize he’s spending late nights studying in the cafe you work at.

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this is a part of the moonlight cafe series — please read the preface before continuing reading

he walks as if he’s in a hurry, not minding the jingling bell on the door above him and sits down at a booth in the corner of the cafe

he has a baseball cap on, and a hoodie over that; you can’t recognize who he is at all

waiting a few moments, you glance over at his table again

he has several textbooks and his laptop out, promptly putting his airpods in his ears and beginning his homework

you just write him off as any other student that comes in here at night, the only difference with him is that he doesn’t order a coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots in it

you don’t mind him, but it is a bit worrying when he spends the whole night switching between laying his head down on the table and softly thumping it against the wood, and staring blankly between his laptop and textbook

when he leaves that night at 3am, you send a silent wish after him that whatever he was studying for goes in his favor

but surprisingly, he shows up the next night as well

it’s saturday night, the evening rush ended a while ago, and the mysterious guy is once again sitting in his spot at the back corner of the cafe

he looks even more frazzled than the night before, yet he doesn’t order anything and continues to diligently work throughout the whole night

this goes on for weeks, and you begin to worry for this poor boy’s sleep schedule

but even more so, you’re curious about who he is, since he never orders anything and always has a hood or a hat on

one night, your curiosity is quenched

“who’s that?” taeil asks you; he’s normally not at the store this late, but forgot to complete taking inventory this morning and came back tonight to finish it up

he nods his head towards your mystery guy, who has slumped over his textbooks and looks to be peacefully sleeping on the table

“not sure. he always comes in and studies for almost the whole night, never orders anything, though.” you shrug at your boss and he frowns

“go give him a mocha, or something. on the house- he looks like he needs to wake up.” taeil turns back to his clipboard and you nod

carrying over a hot mocha to the intriguing character in the corner of the cafe, your heart thumps in suspense

you’ll finally be able to learn who the mystery man is, something you’ve been wondering since day one

you set the mocha down on the table carefully and sit across from him, shaking his arm to wake him up

the guy jerks out of his sleep, a flashcard sticking to his face as he looks around the cafe with lidded eyes

“sorry!” you grimace, holding out your hands in front of you “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to wake you up. my boss told me to give you this mocha on the house, and to make sure you’re okay.” the guy unsticks the flashcard from his face, and your mouth drops when you realize who the mystery man is

“lee jeno?” you ask, and his sleepy eyes widen when you recognize him

“...no? I think you have me mistaken for someone else...” he clears his throat, looking around the cafe to see if anyone has their attention turned to you two

you would believe him, if he isn’t the most well known face on campus

he’s not only the college’s basketball star who has his face plastered on every basketball-related event at the school and is dating the head cheerleader, but also the guy who sits a few rows in front of you in your calculus class

“I'm 90% sure you’re lee jeno.” you state, and he seems too tired to argue with you about his identity

“okay, yes, that’s me. can you please not tell anyone that I'm here.”

“tell what? that you, a college student, studies?” you tilt your head and cross your arms as you wait for his response

“yeah,” he becomes shy, playing with his airpods that fell out of his ears during his nap, “to be honest, I'm in a calculus class this semester and I don’t understand one bit of it. that’s why I'm here every weekend night.” he explains, not meeting your gaze yet

all of a sudden, it hits you-

he doesn’t know who you are

although your calculus class has almost 100 people in it, you would think he would’ve at least seen you walking past him every monday, wednesday, and friday to your seat behind him

but you’re not surprised that he’s struggling or that he hasn’t noticed you, since you always see him talking with his basketball friends instead of paying attention

“I can tutor you.” you shrug, and he raises his eyebrows, finally making eye contact, “I work every weekend night, and I took that class last semester.”

you don’t feel guilty about lying

if jeno doesn’t recognize you, then maybe it should stay that way

what he doesn't know won’t hurt thim

“wouldn’t that keep you away from your job...”

“it calms down after midnight around here, and I usually get bored during that time. what do you say?”

he agrees, and pretty soon you’re tutoring basketball star lee jeno

you thought that keeping your identity secret when you walk into class would be difficult, but jeno is always too busy fooling around with his friends before class starts that it’s easy to sneak past him

jeno comes in after midnight on weekends, you tutor him for about an hour (or until he understands the homework) and then he leaves to get some precious sleep

jeno might be forever thankful for you

the way you explain things makes sense to him, much more sense than any office hours or ta hours that he has been to

it’s a win-win situation for you both: you can count these hours every night as “volunteer work” and jeno soon comes back to the cafe with his midterm exam, a solid B+ labeled across the top

“good job,” you chime when you see his grade from his phone

a text message notification pops up, and although you don’t read it, you definitely saw the word “party”

“maybe we can skip the study session tonight? you’ve been doing much better lately, and it’s friday night. I bet you want to get out and go to a party, or something.” you suggest, giving jeno a perfect excuse to leave you for the night and join his friends

“nah,” jeno shrugs as he takes back his phone, “I'd much rather hang out with you.”

your heart thuds at his words and you try your hardest to control your facial expression- to somehow bite back the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks

it’s been like this for the past few weeks, ever since you saw this new side to jeno

before tutoring him, he was only the basketball player who loudly fooled around with his friends before class and seemed like he didn’t care about anything else other than basketball

but since you started to get to know him, it’s safe to say you severely misjudged him

he’s probably the most boyish guy you’ve ever met, who cracks jokes that most would cringe at but have you clutching your stomach and wheezing with laughter

the more time he spent around you, the more comfortable he became, and the more he could tell you his feelings

like how nervous he was for the exam or how scared he was for last week’s game

or how he’s determined to drink the mocha you make him every time he comes to the cafe, as an apology for all the nights he hogged a table and didn’t buy anything

he snuck into your heart, through the spaces between your ribs and planted himself there, unwilling to leave

but you know your feelings aren’t acceptable

he has a girlfriend, a very pretty and popular one that you’re almost sure he won’t leave for little old you

“seriously,” jeno notices your change in tone, “you can go out. you don’t have to stay here.”

“I'm being serious, too. let’s start on the next chapter, since you took this class last semester you’ll know how to do the equations for the next part, right?” jeno is already pulling out his textbook and his papers, determined to start working

your heart races, now for a different reason

although you’re good at calculus, you’re not that good to understand the next chapter yet

“uh...” you trail off, trying to find an excuse, “why do you even want to do math homework right now?” you ask, and jeno suddenly gets quiet

“it’s not really about math anymore, it’s about the person who’s teaching it to me...” he mumbles, but you hear him clearly

your heart is in your throat and your hands clam up from nerves

this is wrong

he has a girlfriend

his life is very different and separate from yours

this is so wrong

“we can’t.” you shake your head, and jeno’s nervous glances at you turns into a heartsick and longing look, “I- I actually haven’t taken this class. I'm taking it... right now.” you admit, the weight on your shoulders being lifted

“what?” he frowns

he doesn’t look good with a frown, his round glasses move with his face

he looks more like a confused puppy than the killer basketball player everyone knows and loves

“I'm in your class, jeno. I sit three rows behind you. I walk past you everyday to my seat.” you roll your eyes lightly

jeno just keeps getting more and more confused with every sentence

“how? how did I not notice you-”

“because you’re too busy messing around with your bros.” you roll your eyes harder this time, but when your gaze lands back on jeno, you immediately start to regret the forcefulness of your words

he looks hurt, and now angry

“so, you lied to me?” jeno looks as if the gears in his brain are running at full capacity, “what did you want from me then? some tickets to the game, maybe my phone number to sell online?” he spits out, embarrassment from you not returning his feelings fueling his harsh words

“do I look like I would do that? you know I'm not that kind of person.”

“forget it. maybe I will go to that party...” he trails off as he packs up his bag

“you act different with your friends than you do with me. you’re just trying to fit into a mold. I called you out on it and you’re mad about it.”

“no. I act different with you because I like you. liked.” he corrects himself, standing up out of the booth

your heart pinches with hurt at his words

there’s nothing like the bitterness of being so close to what you wanted, and then taking 10 steps back because you weren’t aware of how close you were to getting it

“you forgot your drink.” you say bitterly, intent on having the last word

he tucks his airpods into his ears and fixes his hood, “I hate mochas.”

the next night, the basketball team loses their first game of the season

it’s hard not to hear about it, considering the basketball team (and lee jeno) are the pride of the college

but a few more nights pass, and the team loses another game

and then they lose again, keeping them from going to regionals

even taeyong and taeil talk about it, and you couldn’t look away when they showed you the viral video of jeno’s cheerleader girlfriend breaking up with him in the middle of the court after the last game

although you haven’t talked to him since the fight, you still felt sorry for him

you felt bad, and a bit guilty

jeno hasn’t shown up to calculus since the loss, and his seat is eventually taken by one of his ex-friends

within a month, jeno turned from the campus’ golden boy to a nobody

and it didn’t matter to you

you haven’t physically seen him since the fight, making you worried about him

is he okay? physically and mentally? is he eating or sleeping?

part of you hates that you still have feelings for him, and the other part doesn’t care

you just want to know if he’s okay

and then one very early saturday morning, he walks into the cafe for the very first time since you fought

the jingle of the bells above him comfort him, they chime a good luck to him as he steps up to the counter where you’re ducked down into the pastry display case

“I'll be with you in one moment.” you say, tired dripping from your tone, and jeno realizes you’re in the last hour of your shift

“it’s no problem.” your rustling stops at the familiar voice, and your head pops up from behind the counter

lee jeno stands in front of you, his hoodie and baseball hat on, round glasses perched on his nose and his fringe tickling his eyes

“jeno.” you say, as if making sure it’s actually him and that he’s really here

“no, I think you might’ve mistaken me for someone else.” you and jeno both can’t help but let out a small laugh as you unexpectedly reenact the first time you met

“what are you doing here?” you ask, fully standing up and meeting him at the cash register

“well, I was hoping to get a mocha.”

“I thought you hate mochas.” jeno stares at you and you stare back, unwilling to move until he says something first

jeno reaches out over the cash register, his strong but gentle fingers grazing over your forehead to fix some hair that was out of place due to your movements during restocking

you subconsciously lean into his touch, and jeno brings his hand down into yours, pulling you away from the cash register and sitting down in a chair at the counter

his hands hold yours over the counter, and the fact that you haven’t pulled away gives him hope that he’s not too late

“I grew to love them because of you. I've been craving them for the past month,” he laughs sourly, “but no one makes them the way you do.”

your heart trembles at his words, and it takes everything in you to not forgive him in an instant

“I'll make you one.” you say, untangling your hands from his and moving to the espresso machine

jeno watches as you make his new favorite drink, and then place it before him as you sit down in a chair next to him

“I’m sorry.” is the first thing he says after you face him once again, “you were right. I was trying to fit into the mold of what the people around me wanted. the only time I could actually be myself is when I'm around you.”

“I'm sorry, too. this isn’t all your fault, I shouldn’t have lied to you.” jeno scoots closer, tiredness tying you together and the moonlight from outside allowing you to enjoy the company of each other

“my calculus grade is low again. I might need your big brain to help me.”

“okay, but I'll need payment this time.”

“how much?”

“one kiss.”

“one kiss for every correct problem on the final exam?”

“deal.”

jeno smiles softly, his eyes scrunching as smile lines crease his face like tangled bedsheets in the early morning

he leans in, and you kiss with only the moonlight as a witness

jeno loves the way your mouth tastes like the bitter espresso that keeps him awake, but your lips are as sweet as the mocha that he has grown to love

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

Text

Superposition

a deancas college roommate AU :)

Chapter 12 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.

yes i updated twice this week my foot is broken i can’t do anything else

The Beginning (of the End)

Three Years Earlier

“You ready?”

Dean was standing by the door with a full backpack. Cas’s own was leaning against his closet. He was sitting at his computer, manically finishing a paragraph, only half-stalling.

“One second…” Cas trailed off as he ensured his document had saved properly. “Done. Yes,” he said. Dean rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face.

Dean had just taken his last final that morning. It was nearly noon before they hit the road in the Impala, Dean’s twenty-minute tape-selection process doing nothing to hasten their departure. Eventually, he settled on Moving Pictures, and he pulled out of the parking lot with “Tom Sawyer” blaring through the speakers.

Cas learned many things on the two-and-a-half hour drive to Lawrence — that Dean knew every word to every song in his tape collection, and he was not afraid to demonstrate it; that Dean had driven through almost every town on I-35; and that he had a story for each. He learned that Dean could begrudgingly appreciate 80s pop when Cas flipped on the radio and allowed the entirety of “Heat of the Moment” to play, uninterrupted. He learned that Dean would often turn to sing his favorite lyric right at Cas, or to tell him music trivia, or just to give him a smile.

When they arrived at Bobby’s house in Lawrence, a gangly teen who Cas assumed to be Sam was waiting for them at the door. Dean had barely made it out of the car before Sam was running to him, pulling him into a hug. Dean was grumbling “I wasn’t gone that long,” but he was smiling and sniffling and hugging Sam just as hard. Cas hid his smile.

Sam introduced himself to Cas, all smiles and raw excitement. His openness was contagious. Sam insisted on hauling Cas’s backpack inside for him, to which Dean threw an apologetic look at Cas. Cas just grinned back at him.

Bobby Singer was gruff-voiced and stoic, but there were tears in his eyes as he gave Dean a quick hug. He shook Cas’s hand firmly and said it was real good to meet him, after everything he’s heard. Dean went beet-red when Cas cast him a glance.

Bobby brought beers and a coke for Sam. The four of them sat in Bobby’s living room, Dean and Cas replaying the semester’s highlights for a rapt audience. When Bobby left the room to order a pizza, he clapped Dean on the shoulder and said, in a low voice, “Real proud of you, kid.” Cas thought it might have been the happiest he’d ever seen Dean.

“Dean told me you’re a writer,” Sam said when it was just the three of them. “He said you were writing a book.”

Dean made an indignant sound. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sam retorted. “You said he —”

“I said he was majoring in creative writing,” Dean interrupted, giving Sam a look.

“I am… working on something,” Cas said to Sam. “Although, I’m not quite sure it’s a book. I’ve never tried my hand at writing novels.”

“Dean says your stories are really good,” Sam said, and Dean shot him a death glare. Cas could barely contain his laughter. “What do you usually write?”

“Before this semester, I typically wrote about my own life,” Cas said, feeling slightly self-conscious. “But one of my classes challenged me to write about other things.”

“What’s your book about?” Sam asked.

“Can you contain your nerd for, like, ten minutes?” Dean grumbled. “Dude just got here, you don’t need to scare him off.”

Sam flipped him off, and Dean muttered, “Real mature.”

Cas was considering Sam’s question, trying to come up with an answer that was both vague and satisfying. “It’s about free will,” he said finally.

“Can I read it? When you’re done, I mean,” Sam said. “I love reading. I just finished Lord of the Rings last month.”

Cas smiled. “If I ever finish it, of course,” he said. “Lord of the Rings is a fantastic book series,” he added, and Sam’s face lit up.

Dean let out a long-suffering sigh when Sam started Cas on a conversation about Tolkien, and he excused himself to get another beer. When he returned, Bobby close behind him, he threw a pillow at Sam’s head, which led to Sam throwing it back, knocking Dean’s beer to the floor, and then it was war. Bobby shot Cas an eye-roll, which only made him laugh harder.

The rest of the week passed much the same. Castiel went to bed each night with sore cheeks from smiling. On Saturday, Sam roped him into pouring toothpaste into Dean’s shampoo bottle. The roar they heard from the shower that night had them nearly on the floor laughing. Dean got his revenge on Sam moments later, barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel to give his brother a large, wet hug. Unbeknownst to Dean, his retaliation involved Cas as well; it took great effort to keep his eyes focused on anything but Dean’s bare midsection.

Dean dragged him to all of his favorite spots in Lawrence, places he remembered from early childhood and past Christmases with Bobby. Watching Dean in his element, Cas gave up. Resistance was futile. Cas didn’t fall in love with Dean in Lawrence, but he stopped trying to open a parachute against it. And while that observably changed nothing, for Cas, it changed everything. He’d already lost the game — what was the point in denying himself the consolation prize?

He leaned into the ache that came with the brilliance of Dean’s smiles. He relished the knot in his stomach when Dean spoke to everyone, but looked at Cas like it was just for him. He stole glances. He hid smiles. Dean permeated his thoughts and invaded his dreams. It hurt like hell, sleeping alone on an air mattress, wanting nothing more than to be laying next to the man in the other room. But the highs were addicting, made greater by the pain that followed them. Though he’d been down this road before, hopelessly in love with someone who would never, could never love him back, Dean felt different. Dean felt all-consuming.

Castiel had fallen, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever rise again.

Christmas with the Winchesters made every holiday celebration Cas had attended look boring. Ellen Harvelle and her daughter, Jo, arrived in the morning, each giving him a hug like they’d known him for years. The moment she walked in, Ellen was yelling at Dean to “get his ass in the kitchen.” He grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him along.

Cas spent the rest of the day watching Dean and Ellen cook, helping when he could, then having a raucous meal on the floor of the living room, A Christmas Story playing on the old TV. Bobby popped open two bottles of cheap champagne, much to the chagrin of Jo and Sam, who were provided sparkling grape juice instead. They exchanged gifts, and Dean looked at Cas like he’d just won the lottery after opening Cas’s gift to him, a limited edition copy of Houses of the Holy. When Bobby and Ellen moved to the kitchen to clean up, Dean led Cas outside to the Impala.

“It was too big to hide in there, and I’m shit at wrapping, so I just left it in the car,” Dean said, a little sheepish. He opened the trunk, and Cas gasped.

Inside sat a vintage black typewriter, an Underwood Champion. The paint was chipped everywhere, the letters on the keys nearly worn-off.

“It’s not in great shape,” Dean said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “But it was the coolest one they had at the antique shop. It’s kind of useless, since you have a laptop and all, but —”

Cas interrupted him by pulling him into a tight hug. Dean made a surprised sound, but wrapped his arms around Cas’s back.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said into his shoulder. He pulled away. “It’s perfect.”

Dean shrugged, but looked pleased all the same.

“I have something else for you, too,” Cas said before he could change his mind. Dean crossed his arms.

“Dude, you already went way too hard with the vinyl,” Dean said.

Cas rolled his eyes and started his way back to the house. Dean shut the trunk and followed.

Cas grabbed his backpack and pulled out the stack of paper, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He all but shoved it into Dean’s chest, who gave him a confused look as he took hold of the gift.

“It’s the first part of my first draft,” Cas explained as Dean read the cover page. Dean’s eyes were wide when he looked back at Cas. “It’s a selfish gift, really,” Cas said. “I want to know what you think.”

Dean broke into a slow grin. “This is awesome, Cas,” he said. “I can’t wait to read it. Thank you.”

They were supposed to leave Lawrence on New Year’s Day, but Dean and Cas were both too hungover to even think about making the trip. They stayed an extra night, much to the delight of Sam. The three of them spent New Year’s marathoning the Harry Potter movies. As usual, Dean spent most of the time reciting lines and pointing out his favorite scenes to Cas. Eventually, Sam became irritated enough that he told Dean to shove it, to which Dean responded that Cas liked hearing his thoughts, thank you very much. Dean kicked him in the ribs when Sam rolled his eyes and mumbled something like “Sorry for messing up your game.” Cas pretended not to hear that, pretended not to see Dean give Sam a glare that said, bring that up again, and I’ll kill you. All the same, he couldn’t help but wonder…

But, no. Dean wasn’t flirting with him, Cas knew that much. Sam just said the first thing he could think of to get a rise out of Dean.

They didn’t end up leaving until after dinner the next day, Sam and even Bobby pulling both of them in for hugs. Dean turned on the radio for the first half of the drive, but kept the volume low. He was quiet, and although Cas wanted to ask, he allowed Dean to sit in whatever he was feeling, watching the flat landscape pass outside the passenger window.

Dean had forgotten to tank up in Lawrence, so they stopped for gas in Emporia. It was dark by then, the unnatural white fluorescents shining starkly against the night sky. Cas stayed in the passenger seat as Dean pumped the gas. Cas watched him intently from the safety of the cab, another stolen moment wherein he allowed the full depth of his feelings to overcome him. It hurt, as it always did, but he thought the pain of wanting what he could never have was becoming softer, more bearable, like he might be able to live with it.

Dean opened the car door, and a rush of cold air assaulted the cab. “It’s nice out tonight,” Dean said. Cas hummed in agreement, contemplating Dean’s languid movements as he pulled his hoodie over his head. It was torturous, the way his shirt rode up to reveal a torso chiseled like marble, dusted with freckles. It was impossible not to stare. He looked away just before Dean looked at him again.

“I’m gonna go grab a snack,” he said. “You want anything?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Cas said.

Dean returned momentarily with an already-half empty package of powdered donuts, grinning widely. Cas rolled his eyes as Dean reentered the cab.

“Prudent,” he deadpanned.

“These things are fucking magic,” Dean said before making a completely inappropriate noise as he popped another into his mouth. Cas averted his eyes.

“Do you eat the most unhealthy foods in existence on purpose?” Cas asked.

Dean looked at him with mock affront. “I just eat what tastes good,” he said.

The Impala roared to life. Dean opened the window to toss the empty package into a nearby trash can, dusting his fingers off in the air. He turned back to Cas, the right side of his mouth covered in powdered sugar.

“Ready to go?”

Cas frowned. “You look like a small child in a donut shop,” he said.

“What?” Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, then raised his eyebrows at Cas. “Better?”

“Barely,” Cas said, his frown deepening. And then his hand was moving without his permission, reaching up to dust the remaining white from the side of Dean’s mouth. It might have been nothing, were it not for the fact that his thumb lingered just a moment too long. Cas was staring at Dean’s lips, the breath stolen from his lungs. Shit.

“Cas?” Dean said, an eyebrow cocked.

Cas pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. “What?” He croaked. His throat felt like sandpaper.

Dean was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and melancholy, and Cas was done for. After all this time, every trip to the dining hall, every movie watched on a shared beanbag, every midnight trip to Taco Bell, it was here that Cas put the final nail in the coffin. It was at a shitty gas station in the middle-of-nowhere, Kansas, that Dean discovered his secret.

“Nothing,” Dean said slowly. As they pulled out of the gas station parking lot, Dean didn’t even bother to turn on the radio. Cas only dared a single glance in Dean’s direction, but when he did, he found Dean’s eyebrows knit in concentration, his jaw set, like this drive was the most important thing he’d ever done.

The air felt like it was about to condense with the weight of the silence. That final hour of the drive had Cas fidgeting, turning his phone over and over in his hands. Dean was perfectly still, hardly moving his eyes from the road. Dean, the definition of nervous energy, wholly devoted to a single task. Cas could have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been silently begging for immediate reorganization into an inanimate object.

Because nothing in the history of unrequited love confessions could beat this. Cas didn’t have a prayer. And maybe Dean would pretend he hadn’t seen it, maybe they’d never talk about it. But everything would be different. Dean would find excuses to miss dinner, Cas would pretend to be exhausted every Tuesday night. Dean would break the news that he’d found a different roommate for the following school year. Cas would remark that they should keep in touch at the year’s end, and Dean would agree with a clap on the back, and they would never speak to each other again.

Finally, mercifully, Dean pulled into the dorm parking lot. Cas exhaled hard, as if he’d been holding his breath. Dean gave him a quizzical glance, which Castiel promptly ignored. When Dean shifted into park, Cas had his hand on the door handle immediately. He was about to open it, to take a breath of frigid, fresh air, when Dean grabbed his other wrist.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper, gravelly and sincere in a way that sent a shock through Cas’s spine.

Cas turned to face him. “What?” Cas said, trying to ignore the flames creeping up his arm.

“Thanks for, uh,” Dean started, but he cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming. To Lawrence.”

“Of course,” Cas said, and his voice sounded dead, even to him. He tried to infuse it with some vitality as he finished. “Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time.”

Dean nodded. His hand was still wrapped around Cas’s wrist, and he was looking out of the windshield.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we… Go inside?” It came out like a question.

Dean’s eyes flicked to his. “Yeah,” he said, but he still wasn’t letting go. And Cas thought he should look away, should open the door, but then the inaction lasted too long. Something about the way Dean was looking at him burned, and he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, like there was something he was trying to convince himself to say.

Cas wasn’t sure if he really whispered Dean’s name, or if he imagined it. All he knew was, one moment Dean was staring at Cas, lips parted. The next, there was a hand on the back of Cas’s neck and stubble against his cheek and a pair of lips rough against his. Dean was kissing him, and Cas had imagined it so many times he could do nothing but freeze and hope he never woke up from this dream.

Dean pulled away abruptly, too soon, and the give-or-take two feet between them might have ripped a hole in the space-time continuum, it was so cosmically wrong.

“Shit, that was — I’m so sorry, Cas I didn’t —” Dean was holding his head in his hands, but his words were taking eons to reach Cas’s ears. He just sat, staring in disbelief. Every place Dean had touched was scorched with the absence of him. “I’ll email someone — I’ll try to move out for this semester — fuck, I’m such an idiot,” Dean was saying, and those words shocked Cas back to his plane of existence.

“Move out?” He croaked, and his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. “Why?”

Dean looked at him in anguish. “I shouldn’t have — I’m an idiot.” His voice sounded broken and raspy. “I fucked up on Thanksgiving, and now, shit, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You remember Thanksgiving?” Cas blurted.

Dean tilted his head. “How could I forget that?”

Cas furrowed his brow. “What exactly was your mistake on Thanksgiving?”

Dean stared at him. “The whole damn thing, Cas,” he sputtered. “And now this, and, goddammit, you’re my best friend and I can’t control myself long enough to…” Dean trailed off, and Cas finally understood. Dean had misinterpreted his shock, felt Cas’s stiff and tardy reply and taken it to mean he wasn’t interested. A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped him at the irony.

Dean’s expression darkened. “Yeah, this is fucking hilarious, Cas —”

Cas cut him off. He closed the distance between them, and he could have laughed at the woeful inadequacy of his fantasies when compared to this. It was stilted and desperate, and the center console was digging into Cas’s knee, and an uncomfortable cold was seeping into the cab. But Dean’s fingers were tangled in his hair and he tasted like Diet Coke and cigarettes and he was muttering Cas with every breath and Cas thought he might die in that parking lot because he simply would not allow this to end.

The world had shifted when they finally parted. Dean was looking at him with wonder and confusion. Cas knew he was putting on a similar display. It was dark. Dean’s face was only half-illuminated in the parking lot, but everything about him was brilliant. It was almost too much, like maybe if Cas looked away he’d find himself blind. Cas felt the near-overwhelming urge to kiss him again, to rediscover every plane of Dean’s face he’d already committed to memory.

But he remained in his place, half twisted in the passenger’s seat, because this demanded all manner of explanation. Cas swallowed hard.

“You…” Dean’s voice was a gravelly whisper. “What?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Cas replied, breathless.

“You’re not — You’re not pissed?”

“That depends,” Cas said, his heart hammering against his chest. “What was that?”

“I —” Dean started, but stopped himself. His leg was bouncing rapidly, and he reached into the pocket of his jeans, presumably for a cigarette. Cas grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Dean,” he said in a stern voice.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Dammit, Cas,” he said. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth,” Cas said, a little taken aback.

“The truth,” Dean repeated, his eyes remaining resolutely shut. Another deep breath. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he said finally.

And, whatever Cas had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “What?”

“I was gonna — I dunno, I was gonna do it right. I’ve been meaning to do it right, ask you to fucking dinner or something, but then I thought you hated me after Thanksgiving, and you were busy all the time, and then we were in Lawrence, and —”

“We go to dinner every night,” Cas said. Dean wasn’t making sense.

Dean finally opened his eyes, only to give Cas a death-stare. “No, dumbass, something a little nicer than the friggin’ dining hall.” He sighed. “But, of course, in my car. What am I, sixteen?”

“A date,” Cas said, finally catching up. “You were going to ask me on a date.”

Dean winced a little. “Yeah.”

“But you didn’t —”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“— Because you thought I hated you.”

“A little bit.”

Cas smiled incredulously. “If this is a joke, it’s a terrible one.”

Dean glared at him. “Not a joke, Cas.”

“But you’re not — Dean, I thought you were straight.”

Cas felt bad about the statement immediately as Dean winced, but it was true. Nothing was adding up. Dean had never shown an interest in men before, at least not around Cas, and Cas didn’t think he could stand to be Dean’s experimental phase. But he reeled his insecurity back in as he added, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just… Confused.”

Dean let out a hard breath. “No, I know, I know,” Dean said. “I dunno. Guess I never really thought about it before.” He paused. “I was too scared to think about it.”

Cas felt his heart break at that. There was a story there, a million things to unpack, but it was obviously a feat for Dean to say as much as he already had. Cas left it alone.

Dean cleared his throat. “Point is,” he said, “this was a long time coming, but I’m an idiot and couldn’t work up the balls.” He was staring hard at his hands, the admission taking enormous effort.

A little nervous without the excuse of the heat of the moment, Cas put a hand on Dean’s neck and kissed him, again, short and tender. “You’re not an idiot,” Cas said.

“Guess not,” Dean said through a breathless laugh.

Cas cocked his head. “You really thought I hated you?” He asked, his eyes searching Dean’s.

“What else was I supposed to think?” Dean asked. “I thought that was it, you were done with me.” Dean furrowed his brow. “Why’d you do that?”

“Avoid you?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you didn’t — if you weren’t mad.”

Cas stared at him. “Dean, I can barely remember anything we did on Thanksgiving, much less anything I might have said.” He paused. “And then we were… I didn’t know what to think. Not to mention, up until about five minutes ago, I thought you were — that you weren’t interested.” Cas ran a hand through his hair. “I was worried I might ruin our friendship.”

Something like realization dawned on Dean’s face. He let out another laugh. “Guess we’re a couple of dumbasses.”

“Maybe,” Cas said with a small smile. “Let’s go inside.”

Dean nodded, and they exited the car and made their way upstairs. And it might have been any other night, save their shoulders touching, fingers brushing, silence charged with something new. Cas unlocked their door, letting Dean in. When he turned after shutting the door behind him, Dean was there, and Cas didn’t even have time to turn on the light before he was shoved hard against the door. Dean’s mouth was hot and his hands were desperate. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cas thought they should probably talk about this, about them, but then Dean’s breathing hitched as Cas caught his bottom lip between his teeth, and the thoughts stopped coming.

Cas’s bare back was cold against the linoleum floor, but Dean was warm against his chest. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, his mind scrambled from pleasure and the shock of being wanted.

“Cas,” Dean said against his chest. Cas threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yes?”

Dean shifted, perching on his arm, looking down at Cas. “You — you want this?” He said.

Cas stretched his arms up and rested his head on top of his hands. “This?” He asked. Dean was being intentionally vague, but Cas couldn’t exist in limbo. He had to hear the words, as clear as Dean could make them.

Dean gave him a look for a moment, but relented. “Yeah, I know. Okay. This,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “You and me. Us. Like this.”

“Oh,” Cas said lightly. “That’s what you meant?” Dean rolled his eyes and shoved him. Cas laughed. “The answer is yes.”

A small smile, but it faltered as Dean spoke again. “Are you sure?” He said. “I don’t — I might be really shit at this, you know.”

And Cas did know. There were a million little complications, things they would have to figure out, problems he hadn’t even begun to consider. That might have been terrifying, but the prospect of never having Dean, that was worse.

“I’m sure,” he said quietly. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, no hesitation.

Cas sighed as Dean traced circles on his chest. “It’s worth it to try.”

Cas was in between sleep and consciousness when something warm shifted around his back. Whatever dream he’d been having, it felt remarkably real.

“Wake up, dumbass,” he heard Dean say affectionately. Cas didn’t want this dream to end; he could steal a few more minutes of sleep. He burrowed his head deeper into the pillow, willing the dream to continue.

But then there was a pair of lips against his ear, and they were entirely real. “C’mon,” Dean said in a low voice. “First day of class.”

For a moment, Cas was confused. Dean was in his bed. Why was Dean in his bed? But as he rubbed his eyes, the events of the night before came crashing into him.

Oh.

Nerves pooled in the pit of his stomach. He half expected Dean to rush out some kind of apology, to tell him that everything had been a big mistake. But when Cas turned to face him, Dean was beaming.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Good morning,” Cas said, awestruck. Dean needed a shave, and his hair was flat on one side from sleep, but Cas still felt his breathing hitch as he stared at Dean, unfettered for the first time. Beautiful.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Cas said with a nod. Dean moved to climb out of the bed, but he paused. He turned back toward Cas and kissed him, slow and deep. When he finally broke away, Dean was smiling even wider.

“Awesome,” he said, earning a snort from Cas.

If Cas had worried about Dean’s intentions, it was unfounded. At lunch, as Dean talked to Cas like he was the only person at the table, Meg rolled her eyes and told them to “get a room.” Dean responded by throwing an arm around Cas and saying, “Maybe later.” Meg gaped at the two of them for about ten seconds before regaining composure, shifting to more general conversation. Cas received a text from her immediately after they parted ways.

MM (1:12 p.m.)

holy shit!!!!

MM (1:13 p.m.)

ur going to tell me everything tmrw

At first, Cas wasn’t sure how to respond, because he wasn’t sure what he was allowed to say. That is, until Dean answered a call from Benny, saying, “Sorry, man, I’m not going tonight, I have a date. Yeah, with Cas. Shut up.” Cas smiled to himself as he replied to Meg.

CN (2:32 p.m.)

Absolutely.

The three weeks that followed were easily the best of Cas’s life. The rituals remained unchanged; Tuesday was movie night, dinner was at seven-p.m. in the dining hall, late nights doing homework demanded a fast food run. But little things shifted; Dean made it to his birthday without going to a single party, and his bed remained perpetually made. Cas amassed a greater collection of t-shirts that weren’t his, and he only ran when he knew Dean was in class.

Cas woke up to Dean shifting around him as he attempted to get out of bed for an early class. Cas slung an arm tightly around his midsection in protest.

“Too early,” he mumbled.

He heard Dean chuckle. “I thought class was important,” he said, but he shifted closer to Cas nonetheless.

Cas grumbled something incomprehensible as he pulled out his phone. When he saw the date, however, he shot up, suddenly wide awake.

At Dean’s look of confusion, he said, “It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah.”

Cas leaned down and kissed Dean deeply. He pulled away to mutter, “Happy birthday, Dean,” against his lips. Dean closed the small distance as soon as Cas had said the words, and this time it was decidedly heavier, hot breaths mixing and hands pulling each other closer.

They were interrupted by Dean’s second alarm. Dean scowled as he turned it off. He looked at Cas expectantly, but Cas had his arms folded against his chest.

“Class is important,” he reminded Dean.

“But it’s my birthday.”

“And?”

“Asshole,” Dean grumbled, but he kissed Cas on the jaw as he climbed down from the bed. He put on a pot of coffee as Cas followed him off the bed, wrapping his arms around Dean from the back.

“I got you something,” Cas said into Dean’s shoulder. Dean twisted around to face him.

“Cas, you didn’t have to do that. I told you, birthday’s are dumb anyway.”

Cas made a face. “I happen to be endlessly thankful for your birth.”

Dean shook his head, but he was smiling. “What is it?”

“You’ll find out on Friday when we go to Benny’s.”

“We’re going to Benny’s?”

Cas bit the inside of his cheek. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he said, “Benny and Charlie both insisted. But you once told me you have a strong aversion to surprise parties.”

“Y’all are throwing me a surprise party?”

“No,” Cas rushed. “No, that’s why I’m telling you right now.”

“But it’s a party.”

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t have told me yesterday? How long have y’all been planning this?”

“Only a week.”

“A week?” Dean paused, his eyes narrowed. “Who all’s gonna be there?” Dean grumbled, already trying to assess the threat of too much attention on him at once.

“Just Benny, Charlie, and Charlie’s girlfriend,” Cas placated.

Dean relaxed at that. “And you, right?”

“I’ll come if you want me there,” Cas said, a little sheepish. He hadn’t really planned on going, wanting to give Dean some time alone to spend with his friends. Cas felt like he’d accidentally achieved a monopoly on Dean’s attention.

Dean gaped at him. “Dude, of course I want you there.”

Cas gave him a soft smile. “Then I’ll be there.”

Dean almost convinced Cas to let him skip class — almost — but with great effort, he resolutely pushed Dean out the door.

“Damn, all right, if you want to get rid of me that bad,” Dean griped, smirking. “See you later.”

“Goodbye, Dean,” Cas said with a smile.

They didn’t make it to the party.

Friday afternoon, after spending far too long in bed, Cas was sitting on the beanbag, Dean’s head resting on his lap. They’d taped Dean’s comforter over the window, leaving the room completely dark, save for the film playing on Dean’s television.

“Fucking asshole,” Dean was saying as Neil’s father came on screen. Cas hummed in agreement, paying more attention to his fingers threading their way through Dean’s hair. Suddenly, Dean’s phone began to ring. He shifted to check the caller ID, then stood up quickly.

“Wait, pause it, I gotta take this,” he said. Cas obliged. “Hey, Bobby! How’s it goin’?”

Cas reached above his head to stretch, but he faltered when he heard Dean say, “Dad? What’s wrong?”

Cas stood abruptly as Dean’s phone slipped out of his hand, shattering upon impact with the linoleum. He was standing, his jaw clenched, staring at absolutely nothing.

“Dean?”

Dean remained silent, no indication that he had heard Cas. Cas placed a hand on his left shoulder, prompting Dean into movement.

Still saying nothing, Dean dumped the contents of his backpack onto the floor, filling it with things from his wardrobe. Cas followed him, frantic.

“What are you doing? Dean, talk to me,” he said. But Dean was on a mission, it seemed. After stuffing his feet into unlaced boots, he threw the door open and stalked out.

At a complete loss, Cas pulled on his own shoes and followed, making sure to grab his key as he shut the door to their room behind him. Dean was already halfway to the stairs, and Castiel ran to catch up with him. Dean let the door to the stairs shut in Cas’s face.

“Dean!” Cas called. Dean was fleeing down the stairs like his life depended on it. Cas only barely caught up to him as they reached the ground floor and exited to the parking lot.

Finally within reach, Cas grabbed Dean’s shoulder, hard. Dean slowed, but didn’t stop.

“Dean,” Cas started. Still no response. “Dean! What happened?”

They had reached the Impala. Dean unlocked the car and threw his bag haphazardly in the front seat. He stared resolutely at the ground.

“I gotta go, Cas. I’ll explain everything later.” The first words Dean had spoken to Cas in nearly ten minutes. His voice was thick.

“Dean, where are you going?” Cas asked, desperate. “The party — there’s class on Monday!”

Dean looked up at him then, and Cas was struck by the mixture of fury and sadness in his eyes. “Screw the party and screw class. Family emergency.”

Cas watched helplessly as Dean sped out of the parking lot, taking the turn so fast the back end of the Impala swayed a little. He stood in the middle of the parking lot for what felt like an eternity, the cold January air seeping into his bones. Eventually, he made his way back to the dorms, sighing in relief as the warm air of the hallway hit him.

When Cas reentered the room, he stared at Dean’s shattered cell phone. He didn’t even bother to clean up the mess, just let out a choked sigh. Cas fell into the beanbag, his head in his hands.

——

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 3 years

Text

Left Undone

Ted didn’t want to babysit Bill’s daughter. He didn’t like Bill, and Bill didn’t like him. Why did he have to be the only one in the office who was free for the weekend? Alice didn’t exactly want to be babysat either. She’s too old for that!

Little did Ted and Alice know how much fun they were going to have.

(AU wherein Alice has not dated Deb yet, Bill hasn’t divorced yet either; MASSIVE SPOILERS for BoJack Horseman Season 3 and Moulin Rouge! are discussed)

Friday Prologue | Saturday Chapter | Sunday Chapter | Monday Epilogue

Alice woke up fairly well-rested Saturday morning, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t in her own house.

Ted Spankoffski’s house had 3 bedrooms. One was a master bedroom where Ted slept and also did any other non-CCRP related work. Another was a room where Ted’s nerdy brother stayed for the Summer; ever since Ted got himself a house, his younger brother would stay over at his place during holidays and academic breaks.

Then there was the spare guest bedroom Alice was in where Ted had to set up for her the previous evening. It was very plain.

She went downstairs, explored a little, then found no one. She went back up, knocking on Ted’s bedroom door. No response.

Alice then decided to wash up instead, to feel fresh in the morning. She did all the work in the downstairs bathroom (Ted specifically told her to use that particular bathroom), leaving it as neat as it was before she came to the house.

She tried to knock on the door again, the increased strength of her rapping revealing to her that the room had not been locked, or closed properly for that matter.

She peeked in to find Ted who was still asleep, clutching a laptop like a stuffed toy. His shirt, boxers, and socks tied together with his slumped figure, which also seemed intertwined with the bedsheets. There were used tissues all over the bed, some on the floor making a trail to a semi-used paper towel roll. There were an empty bowl and two empty beer bottles on the bedside table. It reeked of Corona and clearly imported Honey Butter Chips.

Alice stepped in to try to wake Ted up, but the floor creaking below her was enough to make him jolt awake.

“Who the fu-“ Ted calmed down from the shock of waking up so suddenly, “A-Alice?! Shit, I forgot you’re here,”

“I-Is there anything I can eat?”

Ted rose from his position, sitting upward on his bed, “...are you allergic to eggs? Milk?”

“No, I’m not allergic to either.”

“Good,” Ted yawned, getting up and stretching, “because my fridge is fucking empty.”

“I noticed.”

That was hyperbole...sort of. The only breakfast that could be made from Ted’s pantry was egg toast and cereal. There was enough for both of them to finish all of said egg toast and cereal.

“What were you watching last night?” Alice asked Ted, playing with her fruit loops a little.

“Hm?” He swallowed the last bite of his toast with instant coffee.

“You were crying for about thirty minutes; I couldn't sleep-”

“I-It was a sad episode, alright?!” Ted was slightly embarrassed, hesitating to take another sip of coffee, “That fucking baby seahorse will never know...”

Alice raised a brow, unaware of the reference. She ate some more cereal.

“Don’t give me that look, Alice!” That was Bill’s glare, alright, “BoJack Horseman is a very good show!”

“And you binged the whole thing last night?”

“It’s the new season. I’ve got two episodes left before I finish.” Ted then proceeded to chug down what was left of his coffee.

“My laptop died during my binge but it was late and I was just,” He blew a raspberry, “...I needed to sleep.”

“I’ve done that before, not gonna lie,” Alice place down the spoon, done with her breakfast, “Though, the show I watched was kinda...yeah, it was kinda shitty,”

“Let me guess: you’ve watched it because someone hot’s in it,”

Alice blushed, “I-It’s not just that!”

“Hey hey hey,” Ted chuckled, “I’m guilty of that, I ain’t judging.”

Alice hmphed, “Should I watch that—what’s that show?”

“BoJack Horseman?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Ted then began cleaning up by taking Alice’s utensils, stacking them with his, “it starts weak but gets so much better, like real fucking better. Dunno if you’re old enough to watch it though,”

“I’ve seen some pretty adult stuff! Mom makes me watch Tarantino movies with her, at least whenever Dad's not around sometimes,"

Ted nodded at Alice’s mother’s taste in film, “Aight, but that show just...it just hits somewhere really hard when you’re in your early thirties full of regret and with no discernible life direction but, hey! If you can take it, I’d be impressed.”

Alice blinked, “What? Is it like, psychological horror? The kind rooted in some comedically timed socio-political commentary?”

“Well, arguably.” Ted then got up to bring the dishes in his hands into the kitchen.

“...where can I find it?” She asked with mild interest.

“Netflix,” The sound of dishes landing in a sink was heard from Alice’s seat, “It’s a cartoon too, and like, about a bunch of animals, if those kinds of things float your boat.”

Alice never made it past Episode 1 when she tried to watch it herself, convinced Ted’s taste was shit. Personally, she will regret that.

The rest of that morning left Alice and Ted to their own individual devices. Alice typed away some interesting plots and ideas on her phone. Ted went to finish the last episodes of that sad horse show.

An hour before the time Alice would usually eat lunch, she had been cycling around various plotlines for a potential...well, something. Alice knew she just had to write something.

She was in the living area of the house when she heard Ted sloppily walk down the stairs. His eyes were teary.

"Are you alright, Mr. Spankoffski?" She looked at him with concern.

Ted shakily neared her, hesitating to sit on the couch next to her. He instead placed a languid hand on one of the couch's armrests.

"Please don't die on me, Alice, oh my God..."

He broke into sobs. Alice could only stare at this behavior in confusion.

"Did something bad happen in the show, or...?"

"Fuck, it got worse!" He sniffled, "A-And not, like, n-not in a bad writing context--that show's writing is the shit, Alice! But fuck! F-Fuck!"

Sarah Lynn was not supposed to die, but she did die and the fact left Ted devastated. A part of him knew it was gonna happen as he saw the old man, er, horse, and the poor girl in the motel, missing the Oscars. (Then again, that show had a penchant for hollowing, tragic endings per episode.)

Even in entertainment, in his favorite shows to watch, Ted Spankoffski knew better than to hope. It was more realistic for him.

"You can sit down," Alice moved aside to give Ted space to sit.

Ted cried as he sat next to her, "God, I'm sorry y-you had to see me like this,"

"I've...I-I've had worse breakdowns over a show. I-It's all good."

TV and Movie homophobia still haunted the teenage girl.

It's things like that, whether extravagant or subtle in delivery, that prompted her to write and clarify in any way that she could if only to fight. Alice Woodward was the kind of girl who refused to despair.

"Yeah, A-Alice?"

"Mhm," She nodded, quickly writing "character gets sucked into a tv show???" in her phone's Notes app.

"What if we watched something less depressing instead? You can watch it with me, Alice!" Ted breathed, "You're not bored, are you?"

She added "literally? figuratively? ehhh let the watchers decide??? kshfukdhivg" then kept her phone.

"No! N-No, I know how to keep myself, um, b-busy," Alice then shifted herself into a more comfortable position, "What movies do you have?"

Ted paused before answering, realizing he was hungry.

“You pick,” He said, getting up, “You want pizza with that?”

Alice nodded eagerly, watching Ted head for his phone.

“Wait, what am I supposed to pick?”

“There’s a bunch of CD cases in the drawer under the center table—it’s right in front of you!” Ted's voice decrescendoed as he headed upstairs.

“Drawer?” Alice wondered to herself, bending down to inspect the described center table. There was in fact a drawer.

She pulled it open to find bunches of CD cases, charging wires, and what clearly seemed to be unusable gadgets or “e-junk” as her father would, in a terribly corny way, put it.

Alice noticed a notable amount of movie musicals in one bundle of CD cases. The one that got her attention was Moulin Rouge!, unfamiliar with the title and very taken by the red-haired beauty printed on the cover. There was Jesus Christ Superstar, West Side Story, Rocky Horror Picture Show, and a bunch of Disney Princess movies. Upon further inspection of the non-musical movies, Ted had a diverse taste in film, though it was primarily pretty basic in Alice's opinion, minus a few exceptions.

She closed the drawer, further inspecting the Moulin Rouge CD cover by reading the synopsis on the back. An aspiring writer falls in love with a courtesan but other things get in the way? Alice could not blame the writer, in fact, she was quick to identify with him, even if she had not seen the movie yet.

“Alice?” Ted called from upstairs, “Are you allergic to anything I should know?”

“No,” She called back, playing with the CD cover.

“Good! I’m getting us a Bacon Surprise,”

“Alright,” Apparently Ted chose to order from that Witchwood Ovens Shop downtown.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” Ted asked as he went back down. Alice showed him the CD cover.

“Moulin Rouge?” He mispronounced, “I actually have that in there?”

Alice handed the cover to Ted as he approached her, “I don’t think I’ve seen this one,”

“No shit, Alice. This movie’s got prostitution; if I know your Dad enough,” He stared at the cover, trying to remember when he got it, "he would make sure you'd never see it. God, I remember seeing this in the theater, like, when I was about your—h-how old are you again?"

"Fifteen, but I'll be sixteen later this year,"

"Eh, close enough," Ted then placed the CD cover down, ready to set up the television set in the living room.

"Nicole Kidman, man..." Ted dusted the CD player, plugging the TV into it, "She was the fucking best in that thing."

"Do you even know what happens in it?" Alice asked as she watched Ted at work, "Or were you just hoping Nicole Kidman would step on you?"

"Don't you fucking shame me, Alice!" Ted gasped back as he blushed, "If you had any taste in women, you'd want the same Goddamn thing."

Ted guessed correctly, keeping the girl from returning his snark.

It was around the Elephant Love Medley when the pizza arrived. Ted was kind enough to pause for Alice as he went to get the pizza. Alice was still recovering from the exhilaration of the past few songs, overwhelmed with the crowd-like effect of the cheesy-Jukebox mashups that introduced Christian to that infamous dancehall, the gratuitous use of slow-mo effects, and the ridiculous use of that Can-Can. It was "Spectacular Spectacular" indeed!

Alice almost choked on her pizza during the Like A Virgin scene. It was also very clear to her, as they watched, that Ted must've forgotten a lot of what had happened in the film given some of his reactions. Ted cursed The Duke repeatedly, particularly at that scene when he found out about the true nature of Christian's play.

Ted believed that he should've seen Satine dying coming. He saw this movie before. The movie literally said so right at the start!

Why, as he watched, did he want that happy ending when the opposite was inevitably going to happen?!

Something about Satine charmed Ted, in a particularly nightmarish way. The idea of further thinking about it was repressed repeatedly, refusing to confront the roots of it all. Surely it was just him being a horny bastard, right? Right?

This totally had nothing to do with the fact that Satine had vibrant red hair, cerulean eyes, polished milky skin, and a beautiful figure.

This totally had nothing to do with how familiar this fictional character seemed to be, resembling someone Ted remembered with intense, bittersweet longing.

This totally had nothing to do with the sight of Satine breathing her last breath on a bed of roses reminding Ted of a memory that he swore hadn't happened yet.

Or it did happen?

Why debate when it happened when it shouldn't have happened at all? It wasn't supposed to happen, whatever that thing was that Ted didn't need to remember at the moment. And yet...

She didn't make a sound. Heartbreak was never so loud.

Alice's sniffling brought Ted back to reality. Ted put a hand on her shoulder.

"God, I-I look so stupid," Alice chuckled out from her tears, rubbing her teary eyes, "they literally say it in the beginning, ugh!"

Ted coddled her closer to him so he could hug her but Alice recoiled back.

"T-Thanks, but we both smell like pizza," Ted nodded back in response.

As he cleaned up the living area, he asked Alice, "How was the movie?"

"It was pretty cheesy," She pulled out her phone again, inspired to write, "but kinda fun? Like, you don't get fun movies with this much energy, at least, when I try to compare, well. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Ted replied absent-mindedly, "It certainly brings back memories of, well, certain times."

"I think it kinda comes off as an epic-like piece,"

"No need to wax academic, Alice,"

"You asked for it!"

"I asked about how it was, not for an essay about its themes and shit!" Ted straightened himself up with a chuckle, "It's just a movie, after all."

"It hits different though," She spat back, focused now on her phone.

Witchwood Oven Shop pizzas were notably heavier on the stomach compared to their competitors. Any leftover pizza the two had for lunch that day, Ted proceeded to reheat for dinner. He scavenged his refrigerator for any packs of instant lemonade, which were thankfully there, and prepared two glasses for the two of them.

It was a shitty excuse for dinner, but Alice didn't seem to mind. She was very concentrated on her phone.

"What'cha writing about?"

Alice tilted her phone as to hide it, "It's not really much yet. It's all a bunch of prompts so far."

"You can pitch me stuff," He swallowed a bite, "Which ones really get to you?"

"Well," She hesitated.

"Well?"

"I-I've got a traveling adventure in a fancy, cultured but mysterious new town..."

"Anything else?"

"Still deciding whether I should make it a horror or a comedy. Besides that, it's all gonna rest on a foundation of romance between our main character, and, well..."

"Who?"

"I don't know! It's all I got so far!"

"Hey, it's not bad," Ted sipped his lemonade, "You know, I bet with enough time, it can become something really fucking great. I'd be invested if this was a movie or a staged production of sorts, I don't know,"

"Y-You think it's good, Mr. Spankoffski?"

"Oh hell yeah," He placed the glass down, "Not to be cheesy, but romance really gets me."

"Yeah, same."

"Have you considered making it some sort of horror-comedy romance? I would love it if you could pull it off."

#eternal reverie #left undone #kim whalen would make such a great satine #starkid #team starkid #starkid fanfic #starkid au #nightmare time spoilers #ted spankoffski #alice woodward

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adolanables · 5 years

Text

INLFUENCED - PART 3 (GD)

A/N: Sorry again about the spacing I really don’t know why that’s happening... I’m on mobile bc my laptop is RIPed so no keep reading. Sorry !!!

The rest of your evening was spent wondering how badly you’d embarrassed yourself at the party, slowly losing the effects of the champagne. Honestly, you barely remembered anyone you’d met –your attention firmly on Grayson for most of the night. You were still a bit unsettled at all of the beautiful women he was constantly around –it was intimidating. He could have anyone he wanted –at least you thought so. Charlotte had made it pretty obvious that the twins’ skills with the ladies were a bit lack-luster. Something you actually appreciated. It wasn’t normal for 19 year olds to be absolute gods with dating or anything related.

You smiled softly to yourself as you washed the remaining makeup off of your face in your sink. He was so painfully awkward trying to flirt with you. Maybe he just hadn’t been as into you the first few times he met you, because tonight was the first time you noticed how BAD it was.

*sorry again about the cupcake : (*

Your phone lit up with a message from the man of the hour, a small giggle leaving your lips.*sorry for getting drunk : )* you shot back, letting him know the cupcake really wasn’t a concern.

*the drunk giggles are pretty cute*

His message made your face turn red and you were very grateful you weren’t anywhere near Charlotte.

—-

The next few days were relatively boring compared to the exciting Saturday evening you’d had. Grayson had texted you into the wee hours of the morning, quizzing you about everything under the sun. He claimed he wanted to know all of your answers to the world’s most important questions.

You only had class two days a week; Monday and Tuesday. The rest of the week was free for you to do homework, relax, and do some occasional free-lance reporting or journaling work. This week it just happened to be the first football game of the season for UCLA –your favorite season of the year. Professor Martin had given you the opportunity to be on the sidelines for the first half of the game and you were unbearably excited.

“Are you going to come up into the stands after half-time?” Charlotte questioned you as she tied her hair up into a ponytail, grabbing a baby blue ribbon to tie around the band.

“Duh.” You rolled your eyes at her, a bit jealous she was able to attend the game in a pair of denim shorts and a jersey.

Due to the possibility of being on camera, your professor had insisted you and the other student dress very professionally. “Stop doubting your outfit, Y/N. You look killer.” Charlotte assured you, noticing you stare just a bit too long at yourself in the full-length mirror in the living room.

Her comment made you feel at least a little better. You were wearing a pair of baby blue pumps, skin-tight leather pants and a tight white blouse with frills on the front. Your hair was beautifully curled, falling down your back smoothly. You liked your outfit, but you hadn’t been this dressed up in public –ever.

—-

“Great job you two!” Professor Martin grinned at you and Mike –the other student who had been selected to participate on the sidelines. “Feel free to head up into the stands!”

You handed your media pass to the professor and headed up towards the student section. The experience had been great –a little less thrilling than you’d expected, but you had taken a few photos and gotten some good notes for an article you could write up next week.

“Y/N!” Charlotte’s voice sounded over the crowd, the student section calm for the time being as the game wasn’t going on currently. Her little blonde head popped up, shooting you a smile and you grinned back at her, heading towards where she was sitting.“Hey lady, you looked good out there!” Charlotte hugged you as you sat down next to her, the smell of beer and popcorn overwhelming you.

“Thanks, Char.” You grinned, glancing around at the crew she was sitting with. The usual gang all said hi and your friend Wes sat down on the other side of you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Long time no see Y/L/N.” He smiled down at you, his arm falling off your shoulders and resting behind your lower back. “You look great!”

“Thanks, Wes.” You smiled softly, leaning into him to rest your pained back.

Admittedly, you and Wes had tried out being more than just friends –more than a few times. It never got past some intense make outs, the forced dates were awkward and uncomfortable. There were never any hard feelings, always having a soft spot for each other. If Wes was somewhere, you were bound to be by his side, a bit of a comfort blanket for you in any situation. Soon, the second half started and the entire section stood back up, a groan escaping your mouth as your feet ached from the tall heels. Wes’s long arm wrapped around your waist, hiking you up into his side a bit to take some pressure off your feet.

“Thanks Weswey.” You smiled up at him, his head shaking in embarrassment as you called him his nickname.

——-

At the end of the fourth quarter, the group of you decided to head out seeing the Bruins were up by a healthy margin. You followed Charlotte out of the stadium, Wes and a few of your other friends close behind. A wince escaped your mouth as you nearly twisted your ankle.

“Get on.” Wes rolled his eyes, crouching down in front of you –willing you to get on his back.

You were not going to argue, slipping your heels off into your left hand and hopping up onto his back, your free arm tightening around his shoulders.

The group of you made it about halfway to the parking lot before you heard Charlotte’s friendly voice shriek “Oh hey!”

You didn’t bother to lift your head from Wes’s neck,extremely tired and just ready to be home.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice spoke your name and you shot your head up, your face losing all color as your eyes connected with Grayson’s.

“Grayson, hey!” You smiled at him, hoping to defer any discomfort in the very uncomfortable situation. Charlotte’s eyes were wide and panicked behind you, desperately trying to find a way to help you. “Were you at the game?”

“Uh, yeah –I texted you at halftime.” He furrowed his brow, digging his hands into his pockets. You wanted to hop off of Wes’s back so badly and explain he was just trying to help your poor feet. Ethan and a crew of guys stood behind Charlotte, a look of discontent on Ethan’s face made your stomach flip.

“Oh, sorry, I haven’t checked my phone.” You laughed, wiggling your heels in the air. “Nearly broke my ankle so just needed a ride.”

Grayson squinted at you, still really confused why you were monkeyed onto some guy’s back. You understood why he was upset, but at the same time it wasn’t like you two were dating or anything. You had barely heard from him all week.

“Ah, well –good to see you.” He nodded, backing away from you, towards Ethan. “You too Charlotte.” He smiled down at your small friend, turning on his heel to stand beside Ethan who patted his brother's back assuringly.

“Fuck, Y/N. I should’ve warned you or something.” Charlotte groaned, the group continuing your walk to the parking lot.

“Who was that guy?” Wes questioned beneath you, his lanky legs blurring in your vision. Truly, you wanted to just fall off his back and curl up in a ball and die.

“Someone tripping over his feet for our sweet baby angel Y/N.” Charlotte teased, unlocking her car from a few feet away. Wes set you down and let you slide into the passenger seat, his arms wrapping around you for a quick hug.

“Well, I’m sorry if I caused any problem...” He apologized, his face sinking slightly.

“Don’t apologize Wes, thank you for carrying me –I'll see you soon!” You grinned up at him, shutting the door and sinking into Charlotte’s seat. A frustrated groan leaving your lips as she started to pull out of her parking spot.

—--

“Y/N you have to text him.” Charlotte nudged your knee with her socked foot, pausing the episode of Grey’s Anatomy on the TV. You looked at her and rolled your eyes, throwing your head back on the couch to let out a groan. “You probably hurt his feelings sooo much, you have to at least say something. It’s been an entire week.”

“He probably wants nothing to do with me, Char.” You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You had typed out a million messages to send Grayson after the game that day, but none of them could express what you wanted to say just right. He hadn’t reached out to you –understandably. For the first time in your life, you found yourself obsessively checking Instagram to see if he had pulled the trigger and unfollowed you. Surprisingly, he hadn’t yet, but you figured it would be coming soon…

“Well you can find out -” Charlotte snatched your phone out of your hand and shoved it in your face. “TEXT. HIM.”

“Ugh, FINE!” You screamed, throwing your hands up in frustration before gripping the phone and going to Grayson’s message thread. Geez, you really had no idea what to say –not only did you need to apologize for the Wes situation, but now you needed to apologize for how long it took you to say anything. Charlotte eyed you out of the side of her eye, pressing play on the TV, but making sure you actually followed through. About fifteen attempts later, you finally pressed send.

*Hey... I’m really sorry it took me this long to say something, but I really want to explain what happened last weekend.*

He responded rather quickly, making Charlotte smirk at you –like she knew he was just waiting to hear from you.

*Yeah I’d like to hear that explanation...*

A simple response, but enough to make you feel uneasy.*Can I call? It’s a lot to type out..*

The absolute last thing you wanted to do was stumble over your apology on a phone call, but you were having such a hard time finding the words to send to him in a text message.

*How about I come by? Be there in an hour?*

“Charlotte, he’s coming HERE-” You shrieked, burying your head into the pillow next to you. “I just wanted a phone call!”

“Looks like I’ll be spending the rest of the evening in my room...” She giggled, standing upto gather her things. “Be NICE, Y/N.”

—-

“Hey.” Grayson’s voice was quiet and deep as he stood on your front porch. Hands tucked deep into the pockets of his gray sweatpants, a simple white t-shirt clinging to his upper body. His hair was a bit damp -like he had just showered.

“Hi.” You muttered, stepping back from the door so he could step inside. Your socked feet lead him into your small bedroom, a small smile played on his lips as he looked around at your space.

“Cute posters.” He teased, nodding towards the decades old Jonas Brothers’ posters accompanied by new and improved ones. He sunk down onto the edge of your bed, kicking his shoes off and getting himself comfortable.“So...”

The nerves were racking your body, finding it extremely difficult to speak. The Bruins hoodie you wore just barely covered your upper thighs, a pair of Nike spandex shorts on underneath. “Last weekend.” You brought up the dreaded topic and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Yea... last weekend.” He glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in thought. “I’m sorry I made that so awkward.”

You shook your head, staring down at your hands. “Wes is just a friend –honestly –I just didn’t know how to explain that to you when I was glued to his back...”

“It didn’t really look like you two were just friends?” He turned to face you a little more directly, his jaw clenching and unclenching with every breath.

“Long-term best friends.” You assured him, pulling your knees to your chest. Yes, you were lying a little bit, but trying to explain to Grayson that you’d ever been more with Wes didn’t seem like a good idea for the current moment. “I didn’t text sooner because I didn’t know what to say... you seemed really upset with me.”

“Well... yeah.” He rolled his eyes at you, inching away from you slightly –he was clearly still irritated. “That’s my bad though, I think I just got a little ahead of myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like we are dating or anything.” He shrugged, connecting his hazel eyes to your y/e/c ones. “We’re just friends too. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous.” His voice was cold and serious, it sent chills down your spine. For a moment, you felt your face fall –showing your emotion. Quickly, you pulled the corners of your mouth up into a small smile, hopeful Grayson didn’t see the quick falter.

“Right -yea.” You nodded at him confidently. He smiled at you widely, his eyes crinkling up in amusement as he patted his knees, standing up off your bed. Honestly, you were confused. Why had he driven all the way here to just... tell you that you two were just friends?

“Well, now that we got that worked out...” he stood up and slipped his shoes back on, his hands tucked back into his pockets. “I’m gonna head out.” He wasn’t making eye contact with you, but you weren’t really sure what to say. You almost felt as if he was being... mean to you?

“Oh, um –yeah.” You muttered awkwardly, standing up next to him, nearly jogging behind him down the hallway. “Bye?”

He stepped out the door and waved behind his back quickly, sliding in his car and taking off. Scattered thoughts flew across your mind as he drove away. What had just happened? Honestly, in the short few weeks you’d known this guy it was like you’d met three different versions of him. Nice, cookie-cutter, standard Youtube boy you expected. Shy, painfully awkward, expected 19 year old. Then this one –mean, cold, and sarcastic definitely unexpected. You shook your head, heading back towards your room.

As you laid down for the night, your fingers quickly tapped your phone screen –a nightly habit you were slowly forming. As you clicked on your list of followers and searched Grayson’s name, you couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes as you realized he no longer followed you. Angrily, you went to his page and unfollowed him, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of you being another fangirl.

——-

“He isn’t going to be there, Y/N.” Charlotte assured you, rummaging through your closet to find you a cute outfit for the night. “He was at ONE party.”

“But what if he is?!”You groaned, still tucked firmly under your covers –convinced you were not going to this massive party.

“Well, then you’re gonna look good as hell so he regrets how he treated you!” Charlotte tossed a few pieces of clothing at you and pointed towards your bathroom. “Get dressed –it's almost 9!”

As Charlotte did your hair and makeup, you tried to calm down the nerves racing through your body. After you unfollowed Grayson, you hadn’t heard from him –not that you expected to. He was active on Instagram, posting stories daily, but you resisted watching them. Honestly, you were still pissed off. You had taken down the picture he took of you and made your Instagram private again. At one point this week you had even deleted the app off your phone.

——

Your tall black wedges clicked on the pavement as you walked arm in arm with Charlotte towards the large house. She had curled your hair, pinning a few pieces back from your face. The black leather shorts and long-sleeved white body suit showed off all of your curves and accentuated your skin-tone. As much as you hoped Grayson wasn’t anywhere near this party, part of you wished he would be, so you could ignore him and show him what he’s missing.

——-

“Woah, woah, Y/N -slow down.” Charlotte hissed as you downed your sixth shot of the night. You could feel the effects already, but at this point you really didn’t' want to feel anything.

As soon as you walked into the party you immediately made eye contact with Grayson –you knew he saw the startled look in your eyes when he leaned over to whisper to his brother, a laugh falling from his lips. Since then, you and Charlotte had been in the kitchen playing a game with a few others –you were losing on purpose so you could drink as much as possible.

“Come on, grumpy –let's dance.” You yanked Charlotte behind you, heading back into the main room where you knew Grayson was. Your body intertwined with Charlotte’s the two of you slowly moving your bodies back and forth to the song blaring through the house. The euphoria of feeling slightly out of your mind and dancing to a loud song soon hit you, all thoughts of Grayson leaving your mind.

—-

“There’s no way in hell I’m jumping in the pool.” Charlotte backed away from the group of you playing truth or dare –shaking her head vigorously. Most of the party had moved outside as it was getting a bit too steamy in the confined space. You and about ten other people were playing truth or dare and Charlotte had just been dared to jump into the pool.

At this point you weren’t really sure how much you had had to drink –watching Grayson talk to a beautiful blonde girl in the corner had made you take at least 6 more shots. She was exactly the type of girl you had pictured him with, so you were trying your best to not be able to remember any of this tomorrow. Charlotte continued screeching about how unfair this dare was for a few seconds before her small body was suddenly being shoved into the illuminated pool by a red-headed guy in a snapback.

“What is wrong with you?” You shouted at him, looking frantically at the pool as Charlotte thankfully had resurfaced. Her eyes were shooting daggers at the kid who thought this was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

As you leaned down to help her out of the pool, the jerk placed his hands on your upper back firmly and shoved. Soon your entire body was engulfed by cool water, anger raging through you as you swam up to the top and gripped the edge of the pool next to Charlotte.

“Dude, what the hell?” A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the pool, his jaw was locked, eyes glued to the red-head. Ethan stood next to him, fists clenched as he followed his younger brother around the edge of the pool. Soon they were standing face to face with the red-head –both more than a few inches taller than him.

“You think that’s funny? Harassing women?”

“It was a joke man, relax.” The kid held his hands up in defense, scurrying away quickly before either of them had a chance to act further. While this was happening, Charlotte had managed to pull herself out of the pool, her small black dress clinging to her body, but mostly unharmed. As she held her hand out to help you, you shook your head at her, motioning down to your soaked –now see-through –white body-suit. She gasped, burying her face in her hands as she realized you weren’t wearing a bra either. Grayson soon turned his attention to the two soaked women next to him –Charlotte crouched down next to you.

He furrowed his brow at you, motioning around with his hand -“Y/N get out of the pool?” Ethan stood behind his brother, making sure the rest of the party went back to their business.

“She can’t.” Charlotte glared up at him.

“And why can’t she?” Grayson shot back at her, frustration evident in his voice.

“My shirt is seeee through.” You rolled your eyes at him, the liquid courage making your words a little slower and your confidence sky-rocket.

Honestly at this point you really would have just gotten out of the pool, not really caring that you were practically naked. Thankfully, Charlotte knew this and was holding your shoulder down in the water so you couldn’t hop out.

“Oh.” Grayson muttered, his eyes going straight to the ground –clearly unsure what to do.

“Here.” Ethan spoke up behind him, stepping forward to hand Charlotte his denim jacket that was once on his shoulders. Charlotte grinned up at him softly as the two boys stepped away, turning their backs to you as Charlotte helped you out of the pool and wrapped the jacket around you –successfully covering you up.

“Thank you.” You shouted at Ethan, making them both turn around to look at you. Charlotte was busy untying your shoes as they walked back over to where you stood. Ethan just nodded at you, as if he would have given the clothes off his back for anyone.

“Yea thanks.” Charlotte confirmed, standing up next to you –a firm arm around your waist as she noticed your unsteadiness. “We should probably head home... come on Y/N.”

She attempted to tug you along with her towards the back gate, but you stomped your bare feet into the grass. “No, wait!” You slurred, pointing a finger at Grayson. “Why Grayson?”

“Why?” He shot at you, confused.

“Why’d you lead me on –when you know you don’t like girls like me –why?” Your voice trailed off at the end of your rant, your confidence faltering and lower lip trembling as he looked at you incredulously. Never in your life would you have yelled at a man like this - drunk or not.

“What are you talking about?” He spoke quietly, his voice deep and serious. Ethan stood facing away from the three of you, truly minding his business until he was needed. “I didn’t lead you on, Y/N.”

You felt your lower lip tremble more aggressively, tears welling up in your eyes and spilling onto your cheeks as Charlotte comfortingly gripped your wrist. Sobs escaped your lips and even drunk you knew how much you were embarrassing yourself.

“Bye guys...” Charlotte muttered, tugging you along with her –you fully complying this time as Grayson watched you walk away sobbing, not stopping you once.

#grayson dolan #adolanables #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #grayson #grayson dolan fanfic #ethan #influenced!grayson #influenced #grayson imagine #dolan fanfic

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levucky · 4 years

Text

the time between inconsequence and tomorrow

I always thought we’d have more time. Of course I did, a silly child of the past, always expecting tomorrow to be the same as today. I always thought you’d be there to lazily gaze at in our environmental science class when things got boring. I thought of asking you out to go get ramen in February, March, inviting you over to meet my cat in April, going to the beach for Memorial Day Weekend...

But the thing is, no one can predict mass events of death. And you’re still alive, shit, I think I just made it sound like you died. Our generation is traumatized. I feel like I’m some Victorian woman writing a letter to my husband in the military. I’m afraid to show my ankles like it’s the Industrial Revolution. You’re beautiful. Your eyes are so blue. I love texting you during our online classes. I love watching you try not to laugh.

I don’t know how you could even consider me beautiful, sitting there in a sweatshirt from a college that rejected me, eating Cocoa Pebbles out of a glass, playing some Flash game in another tab. I look at the Smiths poster behind you.

A couple years ago, I thought you were cool. I sent you a link to “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” in sophomore year after we hit it off in the locker room after field hockey practice. The next day, I told you how much I loved London Calling. A few months ago in public speaking, you recited “Lost in the Supermarket” as your poetic piece. Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I get the hint? Why are we still hinting after all this time?

“Car Seat Headrest?” You stand over my desk, running a finger over my laptop stickers.

“They’re a band,” I look up, grinning, “I think you’d like them.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I’ll make you a playlist.”

We’re so stupid. I love you. I love you, my favorite anarchist, my dearest stereotype rebel in a YA novel. I still haven’t sent that playlist. I promise I will, I really do, I do, I love you...

—

“You’re coming to the party tonight?” I looked up. She towered over me in heels.

“I don’t feel like it,” she sighed. She wanted to go home and sleep.

“You never do.”

“I know, but...”

“Please, it’ll be fun; I can drive you home...”

“Limassol, I told you I don’t want to go.”

“Saturday,” I beg, feeling pathetic, “let’s hang out on Saturday.”

But we never did, and we left for winter break.

SOL: hey still wanna hang?

REN: I can’t sorry

REN: I have a midterm on Monday and my mom’s not letting me go out

SOL: that sucks

SOL: I miss you

REN: school starts in like two days Lim

SOL: that’s fair

I felt stupid. I still feel stupid when I think about the last time I saw her, sitting next to me in class like nothing was about to change. We never ended up going out, because we always assumed we’d have tomorrow.

REN: I love how your cat keeps jumping onto your desk

SOL: isn’t she cute??

REN: I want to come over and meet her once this is all done

SOL: you should

I can’t stop thinking about her, how bad I want to be driving around with the windows down, listening to the Smiths or Car Seat Headrest or some shitty deep-cut Irish postpunk band. I want to stay out late and stop at a park and have our first kiss under the stars. I want her to meet my cat. Is that too much to ask? Can I even ask? I’m straight, arent I? Why am I even feeling like this? Can she please come over to meet my cat? Can I rest my head on her shoulder? Can we speak softly to each other? Can I borrow one of her sweatshirts?

It’s such a silly thing, I wrote in my journal, I Twin Fantasy-ed myself again for the second time this year because my crush and I were both too shy to ever make real plans. We’re so stupid. We pine too much. We’re both too afraid to admit we’re in love, I guess, this love. I’m always too slow. I have all the love in the world and no one to give it to. I’m scared that I’ll be too scared and never commit to a relationship. I’m going to college. Who will I fall in love with there? Who will fall in love with me? Will I miss her? I’m flirting with like, every boy I meet. They’re all nice Jewish boys. My mom would love them. I’m not ready for this. I want to be in love with everyone. There are a million what-ifs every time I think of being with one individual person. I want to be a collective sort of love, something loved by many, loving many. I don’t know. Shit, I sound weird.

There are only so many things you can be at a time, I think. I can be a writer, and a student, and a daughter, and a sister, but I cannot be my parents’ daughter if I am in love with another girl. I hate saying that. It’s 2020. They should grow up. I should grow up. I’m eighteen now. I think I’m just scared of the actual committed relationship that comes with being in love with a boy, I think to myself, and that is very true. There’s something about girls that feels less consequential. I don’t have to tell anyone. She can sleep over. We can tell the world we’re friends. I don’t have to break my parents’ hearts. I’m bisexual, aren’t I? Couldn’t I just as well marry a man and settle down and have three beautiful children in the same suburbs I grew up in and never tell a soul my secret? I don’t know.

I committed to college today. There are still tomorrows, but they are numbered, and no one has any clue when they’re going to start. All I know is that one day, we’ll be going out for Korean barbecue in Philly, or getting dinner close by in town, or sitting in some empty college campus on a warm summer night, and everything will be alright.

—

thank you @thegharden for inspiring me to pick this little series back up again! this piece is actually about someone different from the original pain star piece but the original pain star subject will definitely make another appearance at some point. you can listen to a version of the playlist I made for Ren here. it’s real!!

#narrative nonsense #the pain star #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #writing #when sleeper agent happened i didnt feel for this girl as strongly but now that sleeper ghosted me im back #this should be enough evidence that im bisexual but my brain still thinks im straight huh #comphet and internalized homophobia really do be ganging up on me #feelin like a victorian lady afraid to show her ankle #narrative

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sunflowerstrays · 5 years

Text

starry night ➳ l.f

lee felix x kim seungmin x reader.

words: 3.5k.

genre: fluff.

---

“So, I’ve had a lot of roommates,” you say, pushing your glasses up your nose as you sit opposite Felix and Seungmin, “and a lot of people applied to be my roommate. I’ve known both of you for a sum total of… three days? And you guys have already won me over.”

“Hell yes!” Felix shouts, fist pumping the air as he launches himself towards you for a hug. Crushed beneath him, you barely hear Seungmin thank you repeatedly in his soft voice. The contrast between these two boys was almost the deal breaker for you. They were perfect friends to have; loud and quiet, outgoing and introverted, bold and soft. Polar opposites attract.

According to their story, Felix and Seungmin knew each other last year at the creative arts school the three of you attended. They were roommates before, but applied for accommodation too late this year and this was their last option. School starts again tomorrow, and you’d be back to your art course all guns ablazing, whilst Felix was continuing his musical theatre course and Seungmin his creative writing course. You wondered how you’d never bumped into either of them before.

Felix, with his ever changing hair colour, was pretty unmissable after all, and you worked with the creative writing team last year in designing the stage that the theatre students performed on in last year’s play.

“This is incredible news,” Felix finally says, wedging himself between you and the rest of the small sofa in the tiny apartment you were now sharing with these two boys. You smile, pressed up besides him as he continues chattering about how excited he is. “Just wonderful.”

“It’s going to be a bit… loud, with him around,” Seungmin sighs, making you giggle. “Trust me, an average of three hours of sleep a night is good with Felix.”

You soon learnt this to be true. Later that evening, after the three of you had gone out for dinner at the nearby fried chicken restaurant, you were curling up on the sofa sketching in a rough book and enjoying the last evening of summer. Seungmin was sat at your feet, mirroring your position with his feet resting on top of your fluffy socks, sharing a blanket with you whilst he was working on something on his laptop. Normally, this would be the perfect scenario for you to fall asleep in.

Only Felix was chatting away to himself through some rehearsal notes he had for plays that he had coming up this year. You didn’t mind, as you could see how passionate he was for the subject, and sometimes the random lines he would say would make you and Seungmin giggle. But every time you felt yourself beginning to nod off, Felix would announce a passionate love line from something that sounded Shakespearean, and you were jerked awake again.

You understood Seungmin’s complaints, but found Felix’s outbursts cuter rather than annoying. Finally Felix retreated to shower and bed, and as you could faintly hear him singing in the shower, Seungmin seem to relax.

“Felix may be older but boy is he chaotic to look after,” Seungmin says to fill the silent air between you, making you burst out laughing. You never imagined living with two boys to be quite this loud - you knew it would be loud, granted, but not this much noise from one person. “But I love him a lot so… These things happen.”

“You guys have such a cute bond,” you grin, putting down your book and smiling at Seungmin. “And to have stuck together all this time? I had eight different friendship circles last year alone. And now, they all hate me.”

Seungmin laughs, but is wary of whether you meant it as a joke or not. When questioned on it you explain that the situation was funny rather than sad, and in retrospective was quite ridiculous. Most of the friends you ended up falling out with was because their course was very dissimilar to yours, and they didn’t understand why you spent all your time painting or drawing or taking photos. That, or they were jealous that you were so open and friendly to everyone, they wouldn’t trust you.

“Well, now you’ve got us,” Seungmin says with a bright smile, “and we aren’t like that. Felix generates enough energy for himself and both of us, I don’t have enough friends to ditch you two and you are housing us so… I think we will get on quite well.”

Seungmin wasn’t wrong. The three of you got on like a house on fire. On Tuesday night’s when you had a yoga class, Seungmin and Felix would meet you afterwards for Takeout Tuesdays and to make sure you were safe. When Felix would have swimming classes during lunch hours, you’d always bring the food that Seungmin bought him during lunch to ensure he ate well. If Seungmin visited home any weekends, you and Felix would spend all of Friday night and Saturday together, watching movie marathons and waiting for your best friend to return.

And you couldn’t be happier. In fact, everything was perfect. For a few smooth months you grew especially close with the two boys, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Everything fell in place like you wanted it to; school was going well, you were feeling happier about life, and you had two friends who meant the world to you, and who you meant the world to.

That was until one Tuesday, it was only Felix waiting for you on the purple plastic chairs in the foyer of the gym where your yoga classes were held. The smile on his face was as bright as ever, but didn’t meet his eyes like it usually did. Confusion had grabbed at you as you approached the currently red headed boy.

“Where’s Seungmin? Did something happen?” You ask worriedly, waiting for Felix to stand up. His face is sad, soft at the edges and the smile has completely disappeared now. “Felix?” You call after a long period of silence.

“He’s on a date with someone else, y/n,” Felix shrugs as he offers you a hand. “I’m really sorry.”

You take his fist but raise a confused eyebrow. “Why are you sorry? That’s good for him! He shouldn’t have to feel bad about dating other people because of us, should he?”

“I thought- but- what?” The Australian boy lets your hand drop and stops just outside of the gym. People from your class bustle past, tutting at the obstruction that the small Australian boy had caused. You take his elbow and lead his confused figure to the side, where you were hidden in the darkness of the night and not at risk of being run over by a gym hulk.

“What’s wrong Felix?” You ask, dropping his elbow now.

“I thought you liked Seungmin,” he says, pouting. “Like, fancied him. Wanted to go out with him. I don’t know how you say it.”

“Seungmin? Oh, dear no,” you say, bursting into giggles in front of the confused boy. “No, what gave you that impression?”

Felix takes your hand again and begins leading you to your local restaurant. He explains his thoughts, and most of them make you laugh. The fact that Seungmin and you would stay up to chat about philosophical things that Felix didn’t care for, or that you’d always sketch him if bored, or that whenever he went away at the weekends you’d be forlorn until he returned Sunday night.

“Oh,” you say when Felix says that he thought there may have been something between the two of you that he didn’t know about. “I mean, there clearly isn’t if he is dating someone else. I- I didn’t realise that is what you thought.”

You and Felix manage to laugh off Felix’s poor judgement of your relationship with Seungmin. After the giggles have passed and you are both tucking in to your food from your favourite take-out on the couch, you forget all about the conversation. The remainder of the evening is spent on Minecraft with Felix, who was insistent he had something cool to show you. Instead the two of you end up designing a huge castle that you leave him to build when there is knocking at the door.

“Seungmin?” You ask, confused, when he knocks on the door later that evening. He stands, cheeks flushed and smile bright when you answer.

“Forgot my keys when I left early. Glad you guys were still awake, I thought I was going to have to holler at the door until someone answered,” he grins as you step aside and let him through. “Minecraft again, Felix?”

“Well, seeing as you ditched us for Takeout Tuesday’s, y/n said they would play with me,” Felix says rather sulkishly that makes you giggle. Seungmin doesn’t seem to notice his tone though as he glides through the apartment on cloud nine, a grin on his soft cheeks and a happy haze in his eyes.

“That was today? You guys should’ve said,” he replies, oblivious to Felix’s apparent sadness. You take a seat beside the blond boy again as Seungmin leaves for his bedroom in a daze. Saddened, Felix drops the controller for Minecraft and turns off the games console.

“I don’t like it, y/n,” Felix says, letting his head drop on your shoulder. “Seungmin has always been… mine. And, in the most selfish way possible, I don’t want him to find someone else. Because who will love me?”

“First of all, Felix,” you say, taking his hand and interlocking your fingers with him, “Seungmin isn’t going to leave you. You know what he is like; he’s very loyal, and wouldn’t just ditch you for someone who he may or may not be romantically involved with,” you choose your words carefully as you try to comfort the boy, not wanting to do more harm than good. “Also, you’ve got me! And seeing as you are living in my apartment for the next year, I don’t think I’m going to be leaving anytime soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Felix says, although he doesn’t sound convinced. Seungmin returns from his room ten minutes later in his pyjamas, ready to talk all about his date, but Felix remains curled in your side as the two of you watch the television show, letting Seungmin talk himself into a daze.

This is what your life had become all of a sudden. From blissful friendship dates out with your two best friends, to it being just you and Felix and Seungmin coming home with more fantastic news about his wonderful partner. You were happy for him; he deserved someone who could love him after all, but what upset you was that he had no regard for Felix’s feelings. Whether it was that he didn’t notice, or didn't care, you weren't sure. But you knew that you didn’t want Felix to feel even worse about the situation than he already did, so you made an effort to cheer him up whenever possible.

That meant you’d sit with him through all of his swimming classes, eating your lunch and quietly drawing at the side of the pool whilst he stormed through the water. Soon after you began attending him at the pool, he joined your yoga class, and whilst he was nowhere near as flexible and calm as you were, he enjoyed them a lot; and would tell you this frequently, although you were sure he just liked your instructor more than the class itself.

The weekends when Seungmin was away were even better now that Felix and you were used to being alone; each weekend one of you would have to find something new to do in the city that the pair of you could do. This resulted in some really successful trips, such as the art museum that you took Felix too and he loved, and the theatre that Felix brought you to that was showing his favourite musical, with a comedy twist to it.

Between the good weekends, there were some that were less fortunate; for example, when you took Felix to a food market, but he had been stung by a bee and had a bad reaction to the insect, or the time when Felix had decided to take you to a cinema showing, left the tickets in the taxi the two of you took to get to the cinema, and couldn’t get into the screen.

Despite the good and bad times, you loved hanging out with Felix. Spending all of your time around the boy that reminded you of the sun and the stars was quickly becoming your favourite thing to do. Whether it was the silly trips the two of you would take, or the yoga classes, or even lounging around in your lazy clothes in your apartment, you loved it.

It was why you were sitting on your couch at the minute, Felix’s head in your lap whilst the two of you curled up for a Christmas movie. Felix would be travelling back to Australia for two weeks, and you were visiting your family for a short time as well. You knew you were going to miss the boy incredibly over Christmas, and so was aiming to spend as much time with him as possible. Seungmin was also spending Christmas with his family, yet you weren’t sure whether he was going to join you and Felix for your last few days together.

Regardless of that, Felix was planning you an Australian style Christmas dinner, which you were incredibly nervous for because you had no idea what to expect. The young boy was interesting when he was cooking anyway, so a meal entirely prepared by himself was something you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

“Hey guys,” Seungmin says as he walks through the door. “Did you not go to yoga class tonight, y/n?”

“It’s finished until after Christmas,” Felix answers, making Seungmin raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, we started going together seeing as I didn’t have anything else to do on a Tuesday night.” You place a hand on Felix’s soft hair, the other locking his fingers with yours. You are subtly telling him to go easy on Seungmin; you had noticed a change in his demeanour immediately, and wanted to make sure the red haired boy was okay.

“How was your evening, Seungmin?” You ask, and he frowns.

“Well, I think I got stood up. But I’m not sure. Hyunjin said that he was going to be late to the dinner reservation, but he never showed up,” Seungmin shrugs as he drops into the empty seat. “Do you think he hates me guys?”

Hyunjin was the boy Seungmin had been seeing for months now. They had been dating for a little over a month, but you hadn’t expected bad news to come so soon. You’d only met the boy a handful of times, but he seemed very sweet; tall, quiet but had the most beautiful laugh, and made Seungmin. As long as he made Seungmin happy, you were happy.

“Of course not,” you said with a smile. “Try calling him later. Maybe something came up?” Seungmin makes a ‘hmm’ sound, pulling out his phone and beginning to scroll through it. “There is some food left in the fridge from the takeout if you didn’t eat, by the way.”

“Oh you guys are the best!” Seungmin says, his voice happy. The divided attention from the Hyunjin situation has him looking at you and Felix properly. “Wait- Felix?”

“Wassup?” Felix says, not taking his eyes from the movie in front of you. “I promise I didn’t eat all the chicken.”

“That’s not- never mind,” Seungmin says, giving you a raised eyebrow. You mouth that you’ll explain later, and with that Seungmin goes for his food. Felix finally turns his attention up to you, staring at you with beautiful, star filled eyes that are look so sad you want to weep for him.

“I don’t want him here,” Felix says quietly, squeezing your hand with his. With his soft hair between your fingers, you smile sadly at him, understanding how he feels. You were hoping that you were going to be able to enjoy the rest of the evening with Felix alone, because that was the company you had grown to love the most.

“You don't mean that Felix,” you feel compelled to say it, just for your own conscience. “It's been a while. Give it a minute and it'll be just like it used to be.”

Seungmin returns to the living room with food in hand, taking a seat and chatting with you quietly about the movie thus far. He finally catches up with the plans for Christmas, and for a short few hours, it feels like it did at the start. Eventually though Felix grows fed up of the interaction, wishes you a goodnight and drags himself off to bed. You are left in silence with Seungmin, unsure what to say to fill that void in your friendship.

“So you and Felix..?”

“Nothing like that,” you state, although your voice shakes as you say it. “He just… He misses his best friend, Seungmin, and I’ve had to fill that gap.”

“Misses me?” Seungmin’s voice is pure confusion; he has no concept of how much he has ignored his responsibilities as a friend recently. You feel bad for thinking so, but that was how you felt; whilst you loved Seungmin, he had been very distant recently, and that was beginning to wear on both Felix and you.

“You do spend all your time with Hyunjin,” you shrug, picking at the blanket you had been sharing with Felix. “Which is great, because he makes you happy and that makes me happy, Felix as well. But we just miss you hanging around with us; Takeout Tuesday’s and movie marathons and those stupid board games we would stay up all night to finish.”

Seungmin looks truly distraught, which makes the situation even worse. He hadn’t realised how much he had neglected Felix and you, and you could see that burden taking him on suddenly. His red head drops into his hands as he looks at the floor, reminding you of a child that had been scolded.

He begins apologising, but you shrug it off, explaining that it didn’t bother you. It was Felix he ought to apologise to, but the blond boy was too upset with it all still to speak with him. You suggest that it is probably best if the two friends take a few days out to hang out and sort any disagreements between them, before resorting to bed yourself.

What you didn’t expect to see lounging in your bed was Felix, stretched all across the sheets with the moonlight highlighting the beautiful features of his face. He was fast asleep, small snores fanning the hair that had fallen over his eyes gently with each shallow breath. Seeing him like this, this vulnerable and calm, made you happy; all you wanted was for him to be happy, you realised, and this was one of those moments you wanted to treasure forever.

After changing quickly in the bathroom you curl up in your bed beside Felix. Without waking him you roll on your side and watch him sleep peacefully, mind racing too fast to think about anything else. What Seungmin had said tonight brought you back to that first conversation Felix had had with you a few months ago regarding you and Seungmin.

He had suspected Seungmin and you had some secret relationship that he wasn’t aware about, yet it had turned out Seungmin was seeing Hyunjin, the boy from his creative writing course. However you had never given Felix reason for him to think Seungmin and you were in any sort of relationship, and Seungmin had never given that impression either. But now, Seungmin was wondering the same thing about Felix and you; and as a result, you were starting to think about that too.

All of the countless hours you had spent with Felix in the last few months must have counted towards something, you were sure. There was nothing else that would explain that fluttery feeling in your stomach whenever you hung out with him; it was so often now that it had become a part of you. The thought of being away from him for two weeks was making you so sad that you figured that must have been it.

That night, you didn’t sleep. When Felix woke up the next morning and saw you awake, he questioned whether you had slept as well. You had lied easily, and laid with him until it was time for you to leave for your art class in the morning. Felix and Seungmin were going to spend the day together, rebonding the friendship that had faded with time, and you were terrified about what you would come home to.

---

so i’ve had exams at school and i’m writing to relax. this was something i had in my drafts for months and now i’m finishing it. might have part two up sometime this weekend, and if not definitely some time next week :)

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soundofseventeen · 6 years

Text

Drama Buddy (Boo Seungkwan)

Hi everyone! It’s Erin here. I came home sick from school today (Nothing serious, should be on the way to normal tomorrow!) so here’s an update! I don’t even know where this idea came from but the vocal unit needed some love today, so Boo!!

“Is this seat taken?” You perked your head up at the blonde boy standing in front of you. You were sitting at a table at your university, attempting to work on homework lmao you’re watching a kdrama don’t kid yourself. You blinked at him a few times, then shook your head.

“Thanks. I can’t find a seat anywhere and I really need to finish this before my next class.” He took a seat across from you, pulling out a notebook and textbook. You looked up and saw him putting his own headphones in, causing you to shrug and go back to your video.

About an hour later, he packed up his stuff and got up, leaving a piece of paper on the table. You noticed it as he walked away, about to call out to him when you read the paper.

‘Thanks for sharing the table :)’

The next day, you found yourself at the same table (you may have made a mistake with your schedule and accidentally given yourself a 4 hour break between two of your classes… every day.) You were actually working on homework this time when you saw someone sit across from you.

“Do you sit here everyday, or is this just a coincidence?” You looked up to see the same blond boy from the day before.

“I like this booth. It has a nice view of the outside world without actually having to go into the outside world.” You said, turning back to your homework.

“True…” You heard him mutter. “Do you mind sharing some days? I have an hour between classes and never know where to go.” You just shrugged at him.

“Sure, I guess.” He nodded at you.

“My name is Seungkwan.” He said, holding out a hand. You looked at it for a second, then slowly extended your hand to shake his.

“Y/N.” You said, and Seungkwan nodded.

“Yeah I know.” He grinned, and you gave him a look. “We had a class together last semester. Biology? You watched videos on your computer almost every day.”

“How… How do you remember that?”

“I sat like, 2 rows behind you. It was nice on days when the topic was exceptionally boring. I don’t understand how you stayed straightfaced through some of those vine complilations though. My friend Vernon was dying in his seat during those.”

“Oh…” You said, turning back to your homework. “I’m sorry, I really can’t talk now. I have a lot to do before my next class…” He put both his hands up.

“Say no more. I’ll just do my own thing.” He puts in his headphones and starts writing in a notebook, and you turned back to your homework. A couple of times through the next hour, you could almost feel Seungkwan looking at you, but you never looked up to confirm it. Once again, he packed up his things and left, leaving a note behind on the table.

‘Sorry if that was weird, it’s the only way I remembered who you were’

You chuckled at the note which Seungkwan totally didn’t turn around just in time to see nope not at all.

The next day you walked up to your booth, confused to see the now familiar blond head already sitting down. You almost turned around, but then walked forward and took a seat.

“You’re early today.” You said, pulling out your laptop. Seungkwan just nodded at you, eating a bag of gummy worms.

“Class got out early, want one?” He held out the bag to you, which you stared at for a second. After he shook the bag a couple times, you reached out and took some of the candy. “So, aside from your disinterest in biology, your interest in 6 second videos and basic sit coms, what else do you like?”

“What do you mean?” You asked after popping one of the candies in your mouth.

“Like, what kind of things make you happy?” You thought about it for a second.

“I like movies. I’m a film major, so it’s kind of a requirement.” You shrugged, and he just raised an eyebrow at you.

“That’s the most basic answer ever. Everyone likes movies.”

“But like, I like movies. They make you feel things. If you watch a good movie, even a bad movie, it can make you feel emotions you hadn’t thought about in forever. It’s a great relief. Last week I watched a movie that made me sob for 2 hours, and I didn’t realize how much I needed to let that out.”

“What was the movie?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time you spoke.

“WHat, oh uhm… It was nothing.”

“C’mon, what was it?” He grinned.

“...Inside Out.”

“The one with the emotions?” Seungkwan snorted, trying not to laugh.

“Yes okay, it gets me every time.” You shrugged, turning to your computer, pulling up Netflix. You looked at Seungkwan over your screen. “What about you?”

“I haven’t sobbed in a while, thank you very much.” He mumbled while looking at something on his phone.

“No, what makes you happy?” He looked up at you. He thought about for a second, then smiled.

“I like to sing.” He said plainly, and you rolled your eyes.

“And you said my answer was basic.”

“It’s only fair. Singing makes me happy. I sing with some of my friends every once in a while, and it’s just fun. We sometimes just sing at the top of our lungs, or try to see who can hit the highest note.” You nodded at him, a slight grin on your face. You made your lips fall once you realized you were smiling at him.

“Okay, that does sound nice.” You admitted, eating another gummy worm. “These suck, by the way.” He looked at the bag.

“Yeah, Vernon got them somewhere, I think they’re knock-offs.” He laughed, and you shook your head. “I honestly prefer m&ms. What about you?”

“I basically live off those little gummy peaches.” You smiled, and he nodded. Neither of you said anything for a couple seconds, so you assumed the conversation was done. You put one of your headphones in when Seungkwan looked up again.

“What are you watching?” You felt your face blush a little bit.

“It’s a… It’s just a KDrama.” You muttered, and to your surprise, he smiled.

“Which one?”

“Boys Over Flowers?” He gave you a look, then got up, scooting next to you.

“Hand over a headphone.” He held out a hand, but you just looked at him in confusion. “One of my sisters made me watch this with her. I got hooked okay. Headphone.” You slowly handed him the other earbud, and went to go click on the show. “What episode are you on… OH! This is a good one!” He said excitedly, then sat silently watching the screen as you pressed play, starting the episode.

This became a tradition for you two. Every day between classes, he would meet you at your table and you would watch an episode of a KDrama. Every day he would come with new little questions to ask you, and you would always ask him the same question back. It was a nice little friendship you had going. The more you learned about him the more you liked him, and eventually you found yourself looking forward to seeing Seungkwan every day. You even found yourself disappointed when there were days he couldn’t make it.

It warmed your heart thought, on days he couldn’t come there was always a note and a small bag of gummy peaches left for you on the table.

One day while watching an episode, you couldn’t help but notice Seungkwan was distracted, constantly looking at his phone. You clicked your space bar, pausing the episode.

“Are you alright?” You asked, and he looked at you, then back to his phone, nodding.

“Wha- yeah .Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” He started then took a deep breath. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Come on, what’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything.” He looked at you again, then once again went back to his phone.

“My friends kind of… set me up with someone. I guess I’m just nervous, I haven’t been on a date in a while and I just want this to go well.” He admitted, and you felt your heart drop for some reason cmon y/n you know what’s up.

“Oh…” You said, and faced forward again. “Well, you’re a sweet guy. I’m sure the date will go perfectly.”

“You think?” He asked, looking at you one more time. You nodded your head, but didn’t look back at him.

“I know. Now c’mon, I think shit’s about to go down in this show.” You said, turning the attention back to the screen. You pressed play, but you could still feel Seungkwan taking glances at you.

The next day you approached your table to see another boy sitting at the table. You groaned to yourself, starting to walk past it when the boy looked up at you.

“Are you Y/N?” He asked, and you stopped.

“Yeah?” He took something out of his backpack and handed you a little paper bag.

“Seungkwan’s sick. I’m Vernon, his roommate. He wanted to make sure you got this.” You opened up the bag to see a note and a bag of gummy peaches.

“He didn’t have to do this...” You sighed, then looked at the boy. “He’s sick? Is he okay?” Vernon nodded.

“Yeah, mostly a head cold. He’s going to try and just sleep it off day and hope it’s better for his date tomorrow night.” He shrugged. “Okay, see you around.” He waved and walked away, leaving you at the table. You sat down, pulling out your laptop again. For some reason, gummy peaches didn’t sound that good right now.

Why you were at school on a Saturday night, you will never know. You came down for a meeting for a group project, but the rest of your group must have forgotten, since you were the only one that showed up. You found your booth and curled up, sweatpants and sweatshirt keeping you warm. You were watching an episode of the show you and Seungkwan were watching, officially having given up on your classmates. You were about to pack up your stuff and go home when you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N?” You looked up to see Seungkwan. He was standing in front of you, hair brushed back and in nice clothing. He must be heading to his date. “What are you doing here?” He asked, an amused expression on his face.

“Oh… I uh… I had a meeting with a group for a class, but I guess they all forgot…” You mumbled, putting your notebook back in your bag. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be heading to your date?” You asked, in what you hoped was a casual voice. He blushed a little, then scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I’m actually just getting back from it.” You furrowed your eyebrows looking at the time on your laptop.

“It’s only 7:45?” You said, looking back at him. He just shrugged at you.

“You were wrong. It didn’t go that well. She kind of… got really drunk really fast.” He sat down in the booth next to you, just like he does every day. “We went to this bar, and she had more interest in the people there than in me. I thought they were her friends, but when I asked her about it she said she just met them that night. I told her I wasn’t feeling that well and walked home.” He said, and you sighed.

“Oh Seungkwan I’m sorry.” You said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright. I think… I think I’ve got a crush on someone else anyway.” He muttered, then looked at your screen. “So what are we watching… You continued without me?!” He looked at you wide eyed. You blinked at him for a second, trying to process all the words he just said, then came back to reality.

“Sorry… I couldn’t help it! It was such a cliffhanger!” You defended, and he shook his head.

“Well, we’re starting over. Go back so I can see what happened!” He laughed, and you shook your head, starting the episode over. Even though you knew what was coming, you still felt your heart racing in your chest.

Of course, that could have to do with Seungkwan reaching his hand over and linking it with yours.

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irvinislost-blog · 5 years

Text

Chapter One

I just deleted my old tumblr account. I created that account around three and a half years ago and I saw one picture and thought “absolutely fucking not”. So I deleted it. Took me fucking years to sort out my emails because I hardly ever use my laptop anymore out of sheer laziness. I literally cannot be arsed pressing the on button. But tonight, it’s 1:14am and I thought it'd be a good idea to log into this. It wasn’t. Now I’m using actual grammar and typing up a shit tonne for no one in particular. I don’t even remember the last time I used capitals on the internet lol. Sack it. i usually just use caps when i email my old swimming coach because like professional shit, ygm? i’m still gonna use punctuation tho. i’m the only person who will read this and it'll be in like a year and i’ll look back and gag on this lol soz.

anywayz, hiya kiddos. i got bored, i’ve been playing the same shitty app thing for the past hour to try and get a level above my boyfriend even tho he went to sleep like three hours ago because he’s a pussy and thinks i’m some abnormal nocturnal being. this is fun. i’m enjoying this more than i should. i’m probably just gonna use this to write about shit that i’ve done and talk about my weird theories that my friends don’t listen to because they think i’m just a bit dim.

idk what you’d call it but the profile picture thing for this makes me giggle so much because it’s like a stereotypical cringey tumblr picture but i used it because the first ecig i ever bought-vape nation, amirite bois-had that pattern on it because i was like 13 and in love with matty healy, still am in love with matty healy but i’m now 15. it was a really shitty ecig too. like a pen that didn't really work and cost a fiver off some website that was like vapingisthebomb.com idfk. i was actually such a little cretin. so that’s why i used that image. funny little anecdote for you there.

gonna try not to turn this into a weird online diary thing. currently i’m sat at my new desk, my room is currently clean because i become productive at night and clean and do homework. it’s a friday so i had school today. well it’s now saturday but it doesn't really count so i’m gonna say it’s friday. it’s my six month anniversary with my boyfriend. we didn’t do anything because i have 43p in my bank account. currently listening to never enough by rex orange county, highly recommend, he's such a legend imo. only thing keeping me sane. i’ve had a shite week. that’s probably why i’m doing this. my favourite teacher is leaving. he’s been like a best friend to me for four and a half years lol i’m actually gutted. i was the first person he told and he came into my photography class and i burst into tears and cried to him for about ten minutes whilst i shouted at him for abandoning me. also found out my nan might be dying. wow. feels good to get that out. i’ve only told like two of my friends. one of my best friends has been off all week because she couldn't get out of her bed because she feels so awful. she’s never been like this before. a support teacher even turned up at her house to chat to her but she’s only told me. i am very worried lol. i got zero homework this week which is fun. bit weird tho. not something that usually happens, especially since i’m in my last year of high school. i’m british btw, if you couldn't tell lol. england born and bred. pretty shit place if you ask me. it’s hyped up way too much.

i’ll stop this now. this is why i stopped writing cards to people. i go off on a fat tangent and fill up every side of the card. my best friend gets angry tho because i’ve never given her a card, for this reason. she wrote christmas cards for everyone this year. it’s the funniest shit, it’s like being back in year 3. her and this girl that worships her went to their history teacher who i’ve never spoken to and they were too pussy to knock on the door to give him a christmas card and these two 11 year olds were pissing themselves with laughter because of how pathetic it was. highlight of my week.

okay, i’m done now. fuck i’m cringing so much lol soz about it.

goodnight;

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glitterrhowell · 6 years

Text

Chapter 17

Title: Seized

Co-author: fadingcrystalvoid

Pairing: Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan

Word count: 3k

Warning/Genre: Rape/extreme violence/ depression/PTSD/Degradation/torture/ Non-consensual pretty much everything/Little!Dan/Daddy!Phil/Kidnapping

Summary: What starts out as a day in the Park for Little Dan and Daddy Phil turns into something terrifying when Dan is suddenly kidnapped. Will Phil be able to find and save him before it’s too late? Heavy trigger warning

Read on Ao3

Read on Wattpad

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A huge thank you to my beta Alyssa (phan-of-the_pen) for putting up with my sloppy messy writing and helping me turn it into something readable

When Dan had first got to the psychiatric ward he was miserable and he hated it. But after the first couple of days, he realized maybe it wasn’t so bad. Every day was the same, yes, but after everything he had been through the routine was nice.

6:00 A.M. Wake up

7:00 A.M Breakfast

7:30 A.M. Shower

8:00 A.M. Downtime (Where nurses tended to his wounds)

9:00 A.M. Group therapy

12:00 P.M. Lunch

1:00 P.M Downtime

2:00 P.M Individual therapy

4:00 P.M Group therapy

6:00 P.M Dinner

7:30 until 10:00 P.M. Downtime (Where his wounds were tended to again)

10:30 P.M. Lights Out

To some people, this might sound boring, but to Dan, it was the normalcy he needed in his life at the moment.

On the third day he found out Phil had woken up, but when he asked to see him he was told Phil would be in the hospital for the next few days, as well as the fact that Dan had to earn visitation privileges.

He spent his downtime with Eric and Kate—he had actually grown to become really good friends with the both of them. When he had let it slip he was a Youtuber neither of them looked at him any different than before. They did, however, make jokes and thinly veiled innuendos about him making videos in his bedroom. It was the first time he had laughed since everything had happened.

He never talked during group therapy—he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened in front of people yet. But during group therapy, he had learned the reasons why Eric and Kate were in the psych ward.

Eric had grown up with this alcoholic father, his mother having died when she had him. His dad would beat him daily and starve him, telling him he was “just a stupid fat fag who had killed his own mother.” The only reason he was even in the hospital was that he had passed out one day while at work. They had called an ambulance and once he was admitted to the ER he was diagnosed with anorexia. Later after therapy, he had also learned he had PTSD and body dysmorphia. He had been here for five months.

Kate had been here less time, only two months, but her story couldn’t have been any more different to Eric’s. She had grown up in the perfect family. Her parents were rich and always spending money on her so she could succeed in everything she did. But the pressure from her family to be perfect had been too much to handle and she had begun self-harming at a very young age. She had been top of her class in high school and had been accepted into one of the top schools in England. But during her first year of college, finally being free from her parents, she started partying and doing drugs. She had wound up in here after a four-day long bender. She had overdosed on some drug she couldn’t remember, and when the ER saw her fresh self-harm cuts they admitted her instantly.

Although he didn’t speak during group therapy, he did start talking in his individual therapy sessions. He was working with Lela, who had apparently been his therapist before Dan had been admitted to the hospital. He was told that when he's seen her he had been stuck in little space, but he didn’t really remember. In fact, most of his time while kidnapped, and in little space once he returned home was somewhat of a blur. He could remember bits and pieces, and of course, and he could remember the stuff that occurred the last few days after he had been able to regress out of little space, but that was it.

There was a large part of him that was glad that he couldn't remember.

“So Dan, how are you feeling today?” Lela smiled brightly at him.

“I’m fine, I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I hear you have yet to open up in group therapy. Can I ask why?”

Dan fidgeted in his seat, ”I don’t know.” He cast his eyes down to the floor, avoiding her gaze.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of Dan. But if you want to start getting better, then you going to have to start opening up. Keeping everything inside only ends up hurting you, in the end”

Looking back up, he noticed her concerned smile. She hadn’t pushed him so hard the last couple of sessions, and he wondered why she was pushing the topic so hard now.

“I’m just not ready. I mean, I don’t even remember much other than the last few days.”

He was getting frustrated; he was here, wasn’t he? He was trying to get better. So what if he didn’t want to talk in front of a bunch of people.

Lela sighed. “Dan, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you're really close to having enough points to allow visitors. I know Phil has just been released, and he really wants to visit you.”

His head shot up and the mention of Phil. “Really? Phil can come to visit me?” His heart hurt at the news; he hadn’t seen him in over a week and the last time he did, Phil had been rushed out of the room, unresponsive.

“Yes, but you have to start opening up in group therapy as well as here with me- “

Dan cut her off. “I promise I will start sharing, can I please see Phil?” His eyes shone with hope Lela had never seen in him before.

She took several minutes to answer but finally, she said, “Alright. I really shouldn't be doing this, but if you promise me you're going to start sharing and working harder, I will approve you.”

“Thank you so much!” He nearly jumped out of his chair with excitement, a grin wide on his face, dimples in full effect.

The rest of the session was spent on an exercise designed to bring his memory back. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to remember, but he would do anything to see Phil.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan left her office, Lela sank down and put her head in her hands. This was a lot more difficult than she thought it would be. She had grown quite attached to Dan during their sessions when he was a little, and that attachment had only gotten stronger the more they worked together. It had been a debate about whether she should continue to treat Dan after she was the one to find him and Phil. The board of the hospital tried getting her to take some time off, claiming she was too close to the situation, but she had insisted that she be the only one to treat Dan. The board wasn’t happy, but they approved her to continue to treat him.

She had been there when the rescue and ambulance team had wheeled the boys out of their apartment. She had never seen anything like it in her twenty years of work. The words that had littered Dan’s body were vulgar and disgusting. Dan was hesitant to talk about them and she didn’t understand why that, in particular, was a tough subject for him as he had already started to open up about the rape, but he would not talk about the words. She didn’t want to push him too hard too fast, however, because she was afraid he may slip back into his little space, so she refrained from asking too many questions. After last time, when he had regressed for weeks, it would not be a good idea and would hinder his progress.

Lela felt her hands were sopping wet—she hadn’t even realized she had been crying. Maybe she should have taken a few days off like the board suggested. But she knew she had to be there for Dan. No matter what she was feeling right now, she had to focus on him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Phil was standing in the doorway of their apartment, or what was once their apartment. The police had completely ransacked the entire place, leaving nothing unturned as they looked for evidence. He began to shake as he entered the apartment. He stopped halfway into the kitchen. He couldn't do this, he couldn’t be here after what happened, and what about Dan? He isn’t going to want to be here when he comes home either. He made a decision he grabbed his wallet of the kitchen counter and got out of there as fast as he could.

He ended up getting a hotel room—nothing fancy but a place they could both be comfortable until they decided what they were going to do. His parents had ended up going to get a few things from the apartment for him. Just the essentials, really. A few changes of clothes, both his and Dan’s laptops and phones, a few other things. He felt bad making his parents do it even though they insisted that they didn’t mind, but he just couldn’t face that place, not yet.

His parents were staying in the same hotel, and he was supposed to meet them downstairs for dinner ten minutes ago, but he had been held up on the phone with Dan’s parents. They refused to come down and see him—they were still mad about what happened last time they had been there. Phil couldn't understand how they could let that stand in the way of seeing their own son. He nearly died—not once, but twice—and all they could think about was their own pride. When Phil had started telling them this, they had rudely hung up on him. He threw his phone down on the bed. He was more than just a little bit angry, he was outraged. But he would have to worry about that later because he was now fifteen minutes late for dinner. However, he made sure he told both his parents that night how much he loved and appreciated them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Saturday—finally the day Phil was coming to visit. He had been so nervous and excited he hadn’t slept all night.

“Will you stop pacing? You're driving me crazy.” Eric whined from his side of the room.

“I can’t help it, Phil is coming today.”

“Really he is? It’s not like it’s the only thing you’ve been talking about for the past two days,” he teased.

“Oh shut up,” Dan said, maybe a bit too harshly, but Eric didn’t seem affected.

“So, do I get to meet this amazing Phil?” he chuckled at his own joke.

Dan just rolled his eyes.

The nurse on duty stuck her head in the door. “Daniel, your visitor is here.”

He took a deep breath and followed her out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil was beyond excited when he had gotten the phone telling him he could finally see Dan. He couldn’t believe it! His parents had wanted to come too, but Dan was only allowed one visitor, so they stayed behind at the hotel.

Phil was sat in a cramped room that had nothing but a table and two chairs. There was barely even enough room to move. He tapped his fingers on the table; he was starting to feel claustrophobic in the tiny room, but he instantly forgot all about that the moment the door opened.

Dan stood in front of him. He was looking a lot better than last time he had seen him—the bruises on his face were almost entirely healed and he had a boot on his foot instead of having to be in a wheelchair. He was wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt so Phil wasn’t able to see his stomach, but he was almost glad he couldn’t. His own stomach turned at the thought that he had been the one to carve the vile things into and all over Dan.

“Phil,” Dan whispered, bringing him out of his thoughts. The moment their eyes met Dan flung himself into Phil's arms. They were these two giants sitting on the floor of this tiny room, clinging on to each other like their lives depended on it, crying their eyes out, reunited at last.

Eventually, their sobs stopped and they just sat, holding each other. It was Phil who spoke first. “God am I happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Phil,” Dan sighed and pulled Phil closer, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

They didn’t talk much, but what they did talk about strictly avoided anything that had happened. Instead, Phil told him how his family was doing and how they hoped to visit him soon. He didn’t say anything about the apartment, but he did mention that he was staying in a hotel at the moment even though they both knew why. Dan talked about Eric and Kate, telling him some funny stories about them. Phil told him he was happy that he had made some friends here.

They eventually moved off of the floor and sat across the table from each other, but had their hands stretched across it so they could still be touching.

“Dan, I talked to one of the doctors here and they said you could leave anytime you want, so I was thinking...how about we get you out of here?” he looked at Dan hopefully.

He had expected Dan to be elated and happy, not upset like he looked.

“What’s wrong?"

“Phil I...I don’t think I want to leave.” he pulled his hand away from Phil's and set it in front of himself.

“What do you mean you don’t want to leave?” Phil asked him, confused.

Dan was silent a moment before he answered. “Phil, I don’t think I’m ready to leave yet. I’m not ready to face everything yet. Please don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded.

Of course, Phil wasn’t mad at him—he could never be mad at him. Dan even made a good point. Phil had been avoiding everything since he was discharged from the hospital. Dodging the press and not even having the courage to open social media, leaving his friends to deal with everything. He didn’t want Dan to have to deal with that as well.

Phil was pulled out of his thoughts by a whimper. He looked over and saw Dan crying. He rushed over and wrapped his arms around Dan, all of his thoughts flying from his mind. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok. I’m not mad at you.” He wrapped his arm tighter around Dan's shoulders.

“You're not mad, you promise?” he sniffled into Phil’s shirt.

It broke his heart that Dan thought he would be mad at him. He rubbed Dan's back. “Hey, I promise, alright, love?”

They didn’t have much time after that since Dan only got an hour for a visit, but they spent the rest of the time cuddling and just talking. Once it was time to say goodbye, neither of them wanted to be the first one to let go.

“You promise you’ll come back next week right?”

Phil chuckled “I promise, love.”

It was Phil who pulled away first; both of them had tears in their eyes again.

“I love you, alright?”

“I love you too, Phil,” he said before finally turning around and leaving the room, heart heavy at having to willingly walk away from the man he loved.

Phil sat back down at the table and just cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan was so emotionally exhausted when he got to his room that he decided to take a nap. He was awoken a few hours later by Eric.

“Hey, sleepyhead, how did visitation go?”

He blinked a few times before he sat up, still tired. “What?”

“I asked how your visitation went,” he chuckled.

Dan filled Eric in on his visit and before he knew it, it was time for the last group therapy session for the day.

They were walking to the common room together when he was stopped by Lela.

“Hi, Dan! I hear you had your visitation today with Phil, how did it go?”

“It was good! Thank you so much for approving it!”

She smiled, ”That’s good. I’m glad it went well.” She paused for a moment, “So, on your way to group therapy then?”

“Yep.” he smiled at her.

“You know, you have another visitation next week, it would look really good if you started opening up in group therapy now. I could approve you without any worries.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asked confused.

“Oh it’s nothing, but there have been talks of bringing in another doctor. They're afraid I might be too close to you and the, ah, situation. ’’

She gave him a smile and bid him farewell, telling him to get a move on to therapy.

He was quiet during therapy, and when it came to his time to talk he froze up.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat.

Kate grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just do what you can, ok?”

He nervously shook his head.

He started to explain how he had been kidnapped, or at least what he remembered of it.

“Ok, Dan that’s a good start. But can you explain why you got in the van with them?”

He didn’t want to tell them he was a little. He didn’t want to admit that he had been stupid and naive enough to trust strangers. With the promise of a puppy at that, I mean, that was the oldest trick in the book and he had bought it.

“I will….sometimes I will... umm... so sometimes...”

He didn’t even feel himself slip, too concerned with how everyone would react to his words. His lip quivered and his eyes began to water. “I want my daddy,” he sobbed. “Where my daddy?” His bottom lip trembled, tears spilling down his face now.

The room was crazy with everyone talking over each other trying to figure out what was going on with him. No one had bothered to inform the attending doctor that Dan could regress, so she wasn’t quite sure what to do. She tried to calm the rest of the patients while also trying to calm Dan down, who was now sitting on the floor sobbing, repeating “Daddy” “Daddy” “Daddy” over and over. She pressed the call button on the wall, overwhelmed with the situation and needing extra support.

“Get Daniel Howell’s therapist down here now!”

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theres-no-paradise · 6 years

Text

Sorry not Sorry

Chapter 9

Summary: A random number wakes you up early on a Saturday morning. But it doesn't stop there. The stranger keeps on sending messages, and you have no idea what is happening, when you start to develop feelings for the unknown person.

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader [submit your name: How it works]

Y/N your Name

Word Count: 1415

Warnings: none

A/N: Sorry for the late update. This is more like a filler chapter, with the next one, the main part of the story will start, so we are working ourselves into the plot now! I hope you still like this little short update. :)

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 Chapter 10

A few days have passed since Tom had left the country and you were sitting on your sofa, home alone, staring at the little rectangular device on your table. You knew, he was busy filming this new film he had mentioned before during one of your conversations. It excited you a lot, thinking about it but there was also this weird longing inside you. A little twitch in your chest, that always appeared when you thought about Montreal and how far it was away from London. How far away he was. You grabbed your phone and opened the messenger, typing in a quick message for Tom.

You: How’s Montreal?

Once you pressed the send button, you stared a little while on the screen until it automatically turned black. A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you threw yourself backwards on the sofa. It was late in London so it must've been sometime after Lunch in Canada. Maybe Tom had a little break or day off, who knew but you hoped for an answer soon.

It felt like ages and it was close to midnight when your smartphone vibrated and indicated a new message. Tired and a little groggy you got hold of the device and checked out the message, that was shown on the screen. You sighed and rubbed your eyes from the bright light that was irritating your them before you got to read the message.

The Spiderman: Really loving it so far. How have you been?

You: Glad to hear! I’m tired. And drowning in paperwork. I’d love to burn down my office at some point.

That was true. Work has been very exhausting the past few days and you had to work overtime most days. It was good on one side because it made you think less about Tom. On the other it still didn't matter because even if you had one single thought about him, you knew you missed him. A lot. It was too early to admit though, so you kept quiet about it and tried to avoid this topic at any cost.

The Spiderman: Someone needs holidays

You: not affordable lol

The Spiderman: You can have Tessa. She’s a great Stress relief and that's basically like holidays too :)

Did he really just write that? Did Thomas Stanley Holland offer you to have his dog for stress relief? You sat up in your bed as your re-read the message out loud. You weren't imagining this message but yet you still repeated what he wrote, just in case there could be a misunderstanding.

You: You'd actually allow me to have Tess? Like for real?

The Spiderman: I saw you two together. I trust you with her.

You: You're crazy!

The Spiderman: Well, I tried to help

It seemed that he really meant it but you didn't feel comfortable, having a dog in your apartment that you only met once. It was also unclear if there were dogs allowed on this property anyway, you needed to check that out for sure.

You: If my stress level rises even more, I’ll get back at your offer

The Spiderman: Sure thing! Any Plans tonight?

You laughed at his question as you made yourself comfortable on your bed once again.

You: Nah, just staying in, binge watching Stranger Things

‘And thinking about you’, you thought, but didn't write. It was awful how fast this boy had you curled around his finger even though you tried to tell yourself, that it needed to develop slowly. That was definitely the opposite of careful and slow but whenever you talked to him, you couldn't care less.

The Spiderman: Sounds fun. I’d love to join

And there it was again. The little attempt of Tom flirting with you.

You: I don't think you'd enjoy watching with me

The Spiderman: aww don't say that. I bet I would!

You: I’ll let you try it once

The Spiderman: Promise?

You: Promise.

And after that, you fell asleep peacefully in your sheets, the TV still on in the background.

The Spiderman: I’m bored. Entertain me

You were surprised when you heard your phone buzz as Toms message appeared on the Screen. You didn't expect him to message you so quick after the other night, since its only been a couple of days. Of course your exchange of messages got less than in the beginning but that was only because the two of you were busy working and the time difference didnt make it easy on you either.

You: Got nothing to do?

You messaged back, as you got into the train that’d take you back home from work.

The Spiderman: Sitting around and getting makeup done

You: lol your ugly ass needs makeup

You imagined Tom sitting still in a chair with a woman standing next to him, plastering all kinds of colour on his face to make him look suitable for his role. You giggled at the thought and reacted to the next message, that came in just before arriving at your destination.

The Spiderman: I need to look beat up lmao

You: Don't you always look like that?

There was no response until you got home. At first you thought he might be mad at you but his countermessage made you laugh out loud and you were pretty sure, that Tom was smiling as well.

The Spiderman: Well, I might look beat up but at least I'm no babyface grandma!

You: But even when I'm 50 I’ll still look like 30, So i've got that goin’ for me

The Spiderman: True though. A real keeper

You: Go away

The Spiderman: :)

Groaning, you put your phone back on the table. How was it even possible, that this guy made you laugh so easy? You shook your head in disbelief about Tom's words. Keeper. He said you’re a keeper but did he really mean it that way? ‘Stop Overthinking!’, you scolded yourself but it didn't help. You got this warm fuzzy feeling inside of you and liked it. You started to like the way Tom made you feel and the anxiety about the thought of you two dating started to fade.

It was the middle of the week and you were utterly bored when you arrived back home from work. Not knowing what to do with your time, you grabbed your laptop and started to surf the internet. You went from News sites to Facebook, checked out Twitter and at last you found yourself checking out videos on Youtube. Then something kinda hit you and you typed in Toms Name in the Search bar. ‘Okay, lets see what happens’ you thought, as you pressed the enter tab on your keyboard.

Many videos of Tom in different interviews popped up and you watched through some of them, smiling like a donkey in love. After you’ve seen a few, something else popped into your eyes and with a curious look you clicked the video. You had no idea what would come up next.

You: You have my heart and we'll never be worlds apart

The Spiderman: ??

You: Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star

The Spiderman: Oh no …

You: Baby, 'cause in the dark

The Spiderman: Stop

You: You can't see shiny cars

The Spiderman: I got it

You: And that's when you need me there

The Spiderman: This is hilarious

You: With you I'll always share BECAUSE

The Spiderman: I'm gonna block your number lol

You: When the sun shines, we shine together Told you I'll be here forever Said I'll always be your friend Took an oath that I'm a stick it out till the end

The Spiderman: You've seen the lip sync … I got it

You: You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella, EH, EH, EH

The Spiderman: Are you finished?

You: I pissed myself watching it

The Spiderman: Would've loved to see your reaction :D

You: How did you do that?

The Spiderman: What do you mean?

You: The dancing!! Where did you learn to perform like that??

The Spiderman: Uhh, I went to classes and been in a musical? Lmao

You: What are you even??

The Spiderman: :D

You: No seriously. You're unreal. Some Alien or what not

The Spiderman: I can teach you some stuff if you want

You: Nah, I'm a potato. I'm not even able to stand next to you without tripping.

The Spiderman: Noo you’d do great. I'm a good teacher

You: I bet you are

The Spiderman: ;)

Taglist: @hollandorks @beardedsteveslut @ilivefortomholland @casualprincess77 @agirlwithpointlessideas @isabellamozarella03 @MENDES-HOLLAND @thiswildfire @wastedheartnat @hollandbaby @moonofmy-life @smileylaurens @random-fandom-lady @heartoftheadventure @blackazkaban @augurydemon @homecomjng @punkass-potato @unfoldingdaydreams @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey @rivedale @tiffanypooh@claraholland

#sorry not sorry #sns #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader

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ghostbustermelanieking · 6 years

Text

locking out the ghosts (chapter 2 of six)

chapter one

s5 fic: spoilers for schizogeny, chinga and kill switch, part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

the chapter count changed mostly bc this is getting too long for its own good. it might be subject to change again! this is turning into a little monster

Skinner keeps Mulder late after their meeting the next day. Scully waits for him outside the office, and he still won't look at her when he exits. He hasn't really looked at her since last night at the warehouse. He walks right past her. Scully sighs, goes to Skinner's door and taps on the door. “Sir? Could I have a quick word?”

Skinner adjusts his glasses and motions her in. “What is it?”

She folds her hands in front of her formally. “I'd like to request some vacation time, actually. A couple days off before the weekend after next. Thursday and Friday.”

Approval flickers over Skinner's face. “I think we could arrange that. You could use it after… after everything that's happened. You must have nearly a month of vacation time saved up.”

“Not based on recent circumstances,” she says quietly, thinking of her time off after her remission and the two days after Emily.

Skinner looks her in the eye. “Medical leave is different from vacation time. Take the extra days, Agent. You deserve it. Do you think you'll be able to stick out the next couple of weeks?”

She clenches and unclenches her jaw, tries not to growl her reply of, “I'll be fine.”

Skinner nods, picking up his pen. “You're dismissed, Agent. Keep an eye on Mulder. I'm worried about him.”

---

By all outside appearances, though, Skinner has no cause for worry. They are both pretending they're fine. Like Scully's daughter didn't just die. Like Mulder didn't watch his partner die and almost kill her. They work on paperwork. Mulder goes out to pick up lunch, Scully eats a salad and a little container of yogurt. They talk to each other only when they have to, and even then it's overly polite. They're hiding from each other, the psychologist in Mulder points out. He ignores it.

Days later, there is a case in Michigan with an apple orchard, with living trees. They go on pretending everything is fine. He flirts with her—just a little, no more than he usually would if it was before Florida—and she doesn't comment, doesn't protest, just rolls her eyes a little. It feels almost like before, like normal. If he ignores the nightmares, it almost is. (Her dead. The things he's said to her, the things she's said to him. Emily with blue, blank, unseeing eyes, the same as Scully's. The nightmares are the worst part.) It feels like if they don't confront the problem, it doesn't exist. But then again, that's the way it's always been with them.

The case closes, Scully digs him out of the mud he finds himself trapped in up to his chest. He can't stop looking at the dirt trapped beneath her fingernails as they drive back to the hotel. She'd brushed her hands over him when he'd crawled out, brushed his hair back and smudged mud across his face like war paint, asked if he was okay in a hushed voice. He shivers now, turning up the heat. He wants to say that he that is is not hers to comfort, but he will always be hers. If she wants him.

They pull into the motel parking lot and climb out of their car. Scully pulls at her jacket with frustration. “I can't wait to take a shower,” she groans. “Next time, Mulder, warn me so I can wear some old clothes.”

“You'd think you'd have learned that by now, Scully,” he says. She smiles, bending her head, hair hiding her face. He smiles a little, too. “Hey, thanks for… pulling me out of the mud earlier,” he adds, touching her gently on the shoulder.

Her shoulders scrunch up under his fingers. “Of course, Mulder,” she says. “We're partners.”

He swallows uncomfortably. “Right.” He brushes a hand down her elbow before turning away and inserting his room key. “G’night, Scully.”

“Good night, Mulder,” she replies quietly.

Later, he wakes up from a nightmare (Scully not breathing, bleeding, gun in his hand), shoving at blankets, reaching for someone who isn't there. Scully was crying out, in his dream, and that was what woke him up. Scully is crying out, he realizes, kicking the blankets away and rolling out of bed, and he's halfway across the room before he hears what she is saying. “No, please… please don't take her,” she is saying furiously, tearfully.

Tears spring to Mulder's eyes as he stands on the rug, sheets tangled around his leg. In other circumstances, he might go through the conjoining door and wake her up, but he's not sure if that's what Scully wants now. Instead, he stumbles across the room, yanks open the closet and slams it hard.

Scully yelps on the other side of the wall as she wakes up. Mulder runs his hand over his face, pulls the sheets away and walks back to bed. “Mulder, are you okay?” Scully calls back through the door, her voice thick with tears.

“Yeah,” he calls back, voice just as thick. “Tripped over something.”

Quiet on the other side of the wall—or maybe she's being too quiet for him to hear. He pulls the mounds of covers over himself and doesn't think.

---

The Michigan case happens over a weekend, and the next weekend is the weekend Scully asked for days off on. She warns Mulder that she is planning to be out of town that Thursday and Friday the Wednesday beforehand so that he has less time to try and talk her out of it. She doesn't tell him she asked for those days off weeks ago; she makes it sound like she just thought of it, like he should do it, too. “I think we could both use some time to ourselves,” she says. “Why not take the weekend for some recuperation?”

Mulder seems to be considering, tapping a pen against the table. “You're going out of town this weekend?”

“Yes, I'm flying up to Maine,” Scully says matter-of-factly. Melissa told her once that it's beautiful up there.

He considers further, staring at the table top, rolling the pen back and forth between his hands. “I think it's a good idea, Scully,” he says finally. “I think you could use a vacation.”

He calls her the very next day, when she's arriving in Maine. She should've known. She should've known it wouldn't last. He calls under the guise of wanting to talk about a “classic” X-File, but he's clearly bored, goading her into talking about the statistics of decapitation while talking on the phone while driving, and she politely hangs up on him. And runs straight into an X-File of her own. (Of course she does; she is turning into the woman from Murder, She Wrote. Her life is like a bad TV show.)

She calls Mulder the second time, to ask about the phenomenon she's seeing. He's startlingly unhelpful, outside of asking her to marry him in a breathy tone. She blinks, says, “I was hoping for something a little more helpful,” and pretends she didn’t consider saying yes for a millisecond. Half of a millisecond. She's used to the flirting, but it stings a little now. She regrets breaking up with him sometimes, misses him sometimes.

And definitely doesn't other times. She ends up deeper and deeper into the X-File, to her ultimate irritation aside. Mulder calls twice, and each time is vastly more unhelpful than the last. Between the doll case (an evil doll, really?) and Mulder's annoying phone calls punctuating the hours, she barely gets any actual time to relax. The one bright side (sort of) is Captain Jack Bonsaint, her temporary colleague, who is tripping over his own feet in attempts to be sweet, flirting just a little. It feels almost nice.

She sets a doll on fire on Friday. The mother goes to the hospital, the daughter refusing to leave her side, and Scully heads back to her hotel. She tries not to think about Melissa and Polly Turner and does anyway, thinks about how the little girl forgot her doll as soon as she saw her mother hurt, yelled, “I want to stay with Mommy!” at all the paramedics. Melissa. Mommy.

Scully downs two sleeping pills and goes to bed.

Saturday, Jack calls her up and asks her to dinner. She twirls the cord around her finger, considers it for a second. It might be nice. Jack is sweet. He's not Mulder, but they did manage to solve this case. She had a nice time with him. But that wasn't her intention in coming up here. She’s not looking for a relationship, especially not with random people she met in Maine. (Besides, she’ll never see him again after this weekend.) “I'm sorry, Jack, but I really need some time to myself,” she says. He's nice about it, telling her to let him know if she wanted someone to show her around. She thanks him and hangs up the phone, unplugs it so it is silent from there on out. She spends the rest of the weekend in the blissful silence she'd pictured, takes long baths and reads books and tries to forget.

---

After Maine, it's easier to pretend the things that haunt her dreams at night aren't real during the day. She keeps Emily’s picture in her wallet but almost never takes it out. She throws herself in work (distractions, anything for a distraction) and doesn't think of her sister or her daughter who looks like her sister. She doesn't think about it; she's getting good at that. And Mulder doesn't mention it, or their failed attempt at a relationship.

There's a shootout in a diner. Scully gets the call sometime after midnight, pulls on a wool coat and treks out into the chilled February air. It's just as well; she wasn't getting any sleep anyway.

Among the dead, Mulder identifies Donald Gelman, Silicon Valley folk hero. His theory is that the shootout was a staged hit, steals Gelman's laptop and finds a CD of Twilight Time inside. Scully follows him to the Gunmen, where they find the shipping container in Gelman's email, where they find Invisigoth. A supposed artificial intelligence blows the storage container. Invisigoth—or more accurately, Esther Nairn—claims that Twilight Time is the kill switch that will make sure the AI will deactivate. Scully thinks it's a load of horseshit. Mulder and the Gunmen latch onto the story eagerly, of course, and Mulder runs off to find the home base of the AI. Scully stays back with Esther and the Gunmen.

She makes the mistake of falling asleep on the couch and wakes up to Esther gone, Esther right around the corner with a gun. Being essentially kidnapped by a snarky computer geek isn't the worst of her problems at the moment, but it's still pretty irritating. Esther handcuffs her to the steering wheel and directs her to David Markham’s residence. Esther doesn't particularly strike her as malicious, so she's more annoyed than worried. Esther clearly doesn't know anything about this; she leaves the handcuff key in her coat slung across the car seat while she goes to check out the rubble of David’s house. Amatuer. Scully manages to get the key and unlock the cuffs just before Esther gets back to the car, sobbing into her hands. Meticulously, Scully begins to reach for the gun.

Esther snatches it and turns to point it at her. “Go ahead! Put me out of my misery!” she sobs. Scully is briefly surprised, sympathy coming in underneath it. “Take it!” Esther insists.

Scully takes the gun before putting a hand on her shoulder. “It's okay,” she tries, a little stiffly.

Esther sniffles, wiping her eyes. “Not to point out the obvious, but I don't think any of this is very okay,” she says bitterly, waving her hand at the ruins.

Scully squeezes her shoulder, sliding the gun into her holster with her free hand. Esther sniffles again, takes a shaky breath before holding out her wrists. “I guess I'm under arrest again,” she mutters. “Doesn't matter now, if David’s…”

Scully considers this for half a minute. Reconsiders. “I think we can be done with the… handcuffing,” she replies. “I think we have a similar goal at this point. But I'm keeping the gun.”

Esther takes another deep breath, meets her eyes and gives her a grateful nod. Then she turns and gets out of the car. Scully opens the door and follows her to the edge of the rubble.

“I lied to you,” Esther says as they walk. “I wasn’t working with Donald. I mean, I was, and then he found out about us.”

“About you and who?” Scully asks.

“David,” Esther says, still sniffling a little. “About our plans.”

“What plans did he find out?”

“Uploading,” Esther says miserably. Her black eyeshadow is smeared around her eyes like a bruise, the sunlight casting her face in gold. “Transfer of memory, of consciousness to the distributed system maintained by the AI. Imagine being mingled so completely with another, you no longer need your physical self—you’re one.”

It sounds like something out of a bad romantic sci-fi novel. “So you were going to—”

“Enter the AI,” Esther clarifies sadly. “Give up our inefficient bodies so that our consciousness could live together forever.”

She watches Esther a little sadly herself. The idea of never losing your loved one… she can't say that's not appealing. She'd do anything to never lose anyone ever again. But still, the idea of losing all physical aspects of life to live on in a computer… “But Donald Gelman forbade it,” she says, assuming he must've had the same doubts she does.

Esther kneels by the remnants of the house. “He was afraid of his creation. He was afraid of what would happen if other people followed us,” she says confirming Scully's suspicions. She pulls a burned picture out of the rubble. Scully catches a flash of a man's face next to Esther’s through the ashes. “I loved him so much,” she sniffles.

Scully has heard the longing, the worry, in Esther’s voice all too many times. Echoing in her own head. She understands. “Well, maybe he wasn’t here when this happened. Maybe he’s somewhere else,” she offers, an attempt at comfort. At hope.

Esther looks wistfully back at the photo. “I just… can't bear the thought of never seeing him again,” she says, turning to Scully and motioning with her free hand. “You know?”

Her hand doesn't still, fluttering nervously through the air. Scully reaches out and stills it, clasping Esther’s fingers in hers. She thinks about all the times she'd thought Mulder dead. “I know,” she says.

---

After hours of searching and attempting to reach Mulder, Scully realizes that she and Esther might have more in common than she'd hoped. “I can't get through to Mulder,” she says to Esther, trying to ignore the churning in her belly, immediately dialing again.

“It's the AI,” Esther says, and somehow, considering the explosion in the storage facility and the ruins of David Markham’s house, this statement doesn't comfort her.

They decide to follow Mulder to the chicken farm he'd said he was at when he called earlier, trying to cut off the AI’s communication in the process. It tracks them to a bridge, and Esther flings her computer into a river. It explodes in the air. They duck, Scully's hand shooting out to Esther’s arm. When she looks up, she sees the churning water and smoke rising.

Esther is breathing hard, picking herself up from the gritty ground. “Hell of a night, baby,” she says, and Scully huffs out a laugh. “C’mon,” Esther says, tugging at her sleeve. “We have shit to do.”

In the car, on the way to Fairfax, Esther finally asks the question Scully has heard entirely too many times: “So what's the deal between you and Mulder?”

Scully gazes at Esther out of the corner of her eye. She's got her feet up on the dash (which drives Scully absolutely mad) and her hands tangled in her lap. There are still worried lines drawn on her face, tenseness in her shoulders. She's worried, expecting the worse—Scully suspects they both are. She also suspects Esther is looking for a distraction in this conversation. But she needs a distraction, too, and this is exactly how not to do it. “We're partners,” she says sternly.

Esther laughs. “Trust me, I know when two coworkers are engaged in a forbidden romance.” She waggles her fingers dramatically on the word forbidden. “And you seem real worried about this Mulder guy for him to just be a colleague.”

“He's my friend,” Scully says, smacking the wheel a little. “We're partners. We're supposed to protect each other.” She is not going to go through the entire complicated spectrum of her relationship with Mulder with a woman who handcuffed her to a steering wheel today.

Esther’s feet hit the floorboard with a thunk. “We have more in common than I thought, I guess,” she says quietly. “Except it's more likely that your boyfriend is still alive.”

Scully's fingers clench around the steering wheel. God, she can't think about the possibility of Mulder dying or she'll fall apart right here. “He's not my boyfriend,” she says firmly.

“Maybe not.” Esther crosses her arms, resting her head against the window. Black is still smeared around her eyes like a bruise; it's impossible to look away from. “But that doesn't mean you don't care.”

Scully swallows harshly and says nothing. The car rattles down the Virginia road. Esther whistles the theme of some TV show as she watches the landscape go by. Snow starts to fall.

---

They pull up to the farm under the cover of darkness, right behind Mulder’s car. Getting out, Scully moves her flashlight beam over the windows and sees that it is empty. Esther moves ahead of her, muttering something in a singsong voice. Scully follows, flashlight in hand.

They move through a wooded area to a rundown trailer in a clearing. As soon as they exit the copse of trees, a siren wails, a light coming on out of nowhere. They both cover their ears, Scully’s flashlight hitting the ground wetly. She locates the source of the shrill sound and fumbles for her gun, shoots out the light on the trailer. It explodes in a wave of sparks, the sound ceasing on her second shot. There, in the new silence, she can hear it: Mulder calling her name.

“Mulder?” she calls back. “Mulder, are you all right?”

Faintly, she hears him saying something back, but she can’t understand it. “Mulder?” she calls again, approaching the trailer, Esther at her side. “Mulder, can you hear me?” She starts for the door, but Esther shakes her head, face serious, motions underneath the trailer. Understanding, Scully crouches on the frost-crunchy grass and crawls underneath the trailer. There is an open hatch. “Mulder?” she calls again, positioning herself and moving up through it.

A little robot-like thing whirs towards her. She ducks, raising her gun through the hole and shooting four times. She hears the crackling of sparks and raises her head again warily. All clear, in a matter of speaking. She climbs through the hatch, getting to her feet and moving through the trailer. “Mulder?”

Empty but for wires and computers. “Help me out here, Esther,” she says, surveying the space. “What’s its next move? What is it thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Esther says, nervous.

“Who built this?”

“It did.” She points ahead of them, to a large surface with what looks like a human sticking out from it. “There.”

The hand looks largely lifeless. Scully’s heart thumps loudly in her chest as she approaches. She can’t see who it is until Esther’s flashlight lands on the body. Not Mulder. A man, decomposing, covered in electrical burns. “David,” Esther says with defeat, astonishment. Grief. “Oh, god.”

Nervousness building, Scully looks away, towards another harness across from them. Fear fills her as she sees who is in it. “Mulder?” she half-gasps, moving towards him.

His face is mostly covered with some kind of headpiece that looks like it belongs in a bad sci-fi movie. He’s strapped in with some kind of restraints, trapped in place. She can’t see his face. “Mulder?” she whispers again, lifting the headpiece. His eyes are held open, almost lifeless. “Mulder, can you hear me?” His mouth moves, phantom words. “Mulder, talk to me,” she says firmly, near pleading.

She jolts at a thrumming sound behind her, turns and points her gun at an ejecting CD ROM drive. “It wants the Kill Switch,” says Esther.

“Well, we don’t have it,” Scully says. “You threw it in the water with the computer.”

Esther shakes her head, takes the disc out of her pocket. She goes to the open drive, but stops, hesitating. “But that’s going to kill it, right?” Scully asks.

“Not if it can learn the program and vaccinate itself against it.”

The sound of electrical jolts behind them. Scully turns and sees Mulder’s body contorting, his fingers splayed in pain. She can’t breathe. “Give it what it wants, Esther.”

Mulder shakes as the electricity contorts through him again. God, they are going to do this until he is dead, like David. “Put it in, Esther!” she says.

The computer beeps, the familiar map coming up on its screen. “It’s targeting us,” Esther says.

Panic rising, she almost shouts, “Put it in!” Esther doesn’t move, eyes on the screen. Desperate, Scully snatches the disc herself and shoves it into place.

Twilight Time begins playing. Behind them, Mulder’s restraints come loose with a whoosh, and he slumps forward. Scully crosses to him, whispering, “You’re going to be okay.” She pulls the headgear off. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Mulder doesn’t say anything. She wants to burn this machine to the ground. “Okay,” she says, pulling at the eye restraints. She can hear Esther typing madly behind them. “It’s okay.”

He stumbles forward, nearly landing on top of her as he’s released, holding onto her like she is his life preserver. She leans into him, supports him with an arm hard around his waist and begins moving towards the hatch. He keeps his arms around her outside of using his hands to push off of the sides of the trailer as they stumble towards the exit. When they reach it, Scully realizes that Esther is not with them. She lets go of Mulder as he begins to lower himself out of the trailer and turns. “What are you doing, Esther?”

“Get out of here,” she says, not looking away from the computer.

“What are you doing?” Scully prods. She refuses to leave someone else behind. She won’t.

“Go!” Esther says firmly, sparing her a brief look.

They don’t have time to argue. Scully ducks out of the trailer and helps Mulder crawl out from under it, leans him against one of the wheels before going back under, up and through the hatch. Twilight Time is still echoing, incessantly. She might’ve liked that song a long time ago. When she gets back in the trailer, she can’t see Esther anymore. “Esther?” she calls out, panicked.

“You don’t listen, do you?” Esther calls back from some unknown place.

“Where are you?” Scully scans the trailer.

“Get out of here now!”

“Oh, God,” Scully whispers, realizing. Esther won’t leave David. She doesn’t have time to try and convince her; maybe if it was just her, but Mulder… She ducks out of the trailer and claws her way across the cold ground. Mulder is slumped where she left him, still conscious, thankfully; she wraps her arm around his waist, helping him to his feet, and moves them towards the woods. She pulls him through the trees in a clumsy near-run until she hears the explosion behind her. She turns in time to see the inferno, the fire.

She swallows dryly, pressing her hand into Mulder’s chest to steady him. There is no time to mourn or to be relieved they escaped; they have to get out of here before the woods catch on fire. They turn, walking towards where she parked the car.

Scully fumbles for the keys, unlocks the passenger side and lowers Mulder into the seat. “Mulder, can you hear me?” Her hand pushes the hair off his forehead as she checks for a fever, checks his pulse. Steady, thank god. Normal heart rate. “How do you feel?”

His eyes half-closed, he mutters, “Scully?”

“It’s me.” Her fingers move over the places where he was strapped to the machine, the electrical burns. “We need to get you to a hospital,” she whispers.

“No!” The force of his words surprise her, and she lifts her head to meet his eyes. He looks uncertain, frightened. “Can’t go back…”

“Mulder, you’re burned,” she says, pressing her cold hand flat against his cheek. “You need medical attention.”

“You’re my doctor.” He catches her free wrist, fluttering over his burns up and down his arms, and holds her hand against his chest. “You… you fix me. Not them. You.”

“Okay, okay. No hospital.”

She's stroking the side of his jaw a little with her thumb and he turns into her hand, kisses the center of her palm and presses her other hand harder against his chest. “I'm glad it's really you,” he mumbles, eyelids drooping low. “Not it. Just you. The real you.”

She has no idea what he means but the fear from when he was trapped there, being electrocuted, is still hot under her skin. She can still feel it. And Esther is dead and they almost, they almost, he almost…

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hugs him. He presses his face into her stomach. She smooths his hair, overwhelmed, before pulling away. “I have to call the local police,” she says. “Hang on, Mulder. You're okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

He mumbles something indecipherable. She ducks out of the car, leans against the side and calls 9-1-1. Some of the trees have caught on fire. She watches and thinks of Esther. She hopes she isn't really gone, that she was telling the truth. About being uploaded. About never dying, immortality. Her fingers are cold.

The police come, and the fire department, and she tells them that she is taking Mulder home to rest. After she agrees to come back in the morning and give a statement, they let her. Mulder has dozed off by the time she gets in the car; she suspects the AI gave him something to make him docile. She drives back to Alexandria and tries not to think.

In Mulder's apartment, she rinses the burns and bandages them at his kitchen table. “Tomorrow, we need to stop by the doctor's,” she says.

He closes his eyes and leans his head forward, resting his chin on the top of hers. “Okay.”

Her hand is on his knee. She squeezes it, leaning into him. Unthinking. Her eyes close as her nose brushes against his collarbone. He's holding her loosely, clumsily. She breathes in, out, her head tucked into the hollow of his neck. Pulls back, squeezing his knee again, and says, “You should get some rest, Mulder.”

His eyes still closed, he nods. She helps him up and goes to support him, but he steps away, walking towards the couch. Scully's stomach knots as she hears the jolts of electricity, again. She swallows hard and follows him.

He's curled into the back of the couch, a tiny bit of space left on the cushions. She crawls in beside him, slinging an arm over his side and leaning into his warmth. They fit, barely; he has to hold her against him to keep her from falling off. “Scully?” he whispers, uncertain, eyes huge and dark. A question.

They'd slept here only once in their brief relationship; he'd fallen off the couch with a hard thump and she couldn't stop laughing. They'd ended up sitting side by side on the floor, backs against the couch, watching TV. He held her hand, fingers tracing the softest spots of her wrist and arm. She fell asleep bonelessly against his shoulder. They'd both ached like crazy in the morning.

Scully crawls closer, wrapping herself around him and pulling the Navajo blanket slung over the back of his couch over them. “It's okay,” she says. “I'm here. It's okay.”

He's looking at her warily but says nothing more; he buries his head into the cool skin of her shoulder, where her shirt slips to the side. She can feel his hot breaths on her skin.

They've shared beds before, before they ever became a couple, and this isn't the most abnormal thing in the world, and oh fuck, he almost died. Another one lost on Dana Scully's watch, and fuck, he loves her. And she… maybe she's destined to lose everyone she loves, through death or emotional distance. She holds Mulder closer, fingers against his wrist to check his pulse. She falls asleep with her chin on his shoulder, still counting.

---

It had snowed in Virginia two nights before Scully went to San Diego. It was freezing. Mulder had used the cold as an excuse to hold Scully's hand, even though she had a rule about affection at work. “Frostbite kills, Scully,” he said seriously, locating her hand in the pockets of her trench coat. She rolled her eyes but didn't pull away, let him sleep his cold fingers through hers.

They'd gone to Scully's house because it was closer and cranked up the heat. Mulder opened the blinds in her bedroom so they could watch the snow fall. “It's pretty, huh?” he offered, crawling in beside her.

“Mm-hmm.” Scully leaned into him and he was suddenly warm all over. “Too bad I won't get a white Christmas.”

“If it snows here, I'll take pictures for you,” said Mulder.

“That's sweet.” Her cold feet brushed against his legs; she hid her smile against his shoulder. “What do you have planned for Christmas? Are you going to go up and visit your mother?”

“Actually, I thought I'd go find the Abominable Snowman,” he joked. She lifted her head to fix him with a look and he shrugged. “Haven't decided yet.”

“You could always come with me,” she said in a slow molasses voice, and even though he was sure she'd agree if he said he wanted to, they both knew she was kidding.

“I think I'll pass,” he said just as slowly. His hand traveled up and down Scully's arm and she shuddered with chilled pleasure, burrowing against him. “I'll miss you, though.”

“Mmm.” She was smiling against his shoulder again, wider; she kissed the curve of it through the cotton of his shirt. “I'll miss you, too.” He smiled, too, at the ceiling, his fingers traveling down her arm again to take her hand. “I think I'll be back for New Year's actually,” she added.

“Really.” He squeezed her hand. “I think I can cancel my standing appointment with the Gunmen to spend it with you.”

“How generous.” She rested her chin on his shoulder, kissing his cheek. “Sounds nice. I can't wait.” Her voice was thick with genuine affection, and he turned to face her, their noses nearly brushing. She was grinning softly.

“Hey, Scully,” he whispered confidentially. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” she whispered back.

“It's midnight,” he whispered. He leaned forward, his mouth colliding with hers.

They'd never made it to New Year's; Scully spent the holiday by her dying daughter's hospital bed. That was the last time they shared a bed as well. (In San Diego, he'd accepted Bill's head-jerk motion towards the couch without question; better not to arouse the wrath of Scully's brother.) The last time until that night. That morning.

Mulder wakes up warm all over, with Scully lying half on top of him, her bare feet sticking off the couch. His nose is pressed against the side of her neck, breathing in her scent. Her hair is brushing over his face. Confused, he wraps his arms around her waist. She murmurs something, nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

The events of the night unevenly rattle through his head. Hallucinations. Computer nurses and amputated arms. Scully comforting him. Scully crawling in beside him on the couch. The inferno in the forest. “Scully,” he whispers. “Scully?”

“Mmm.” She shifts against him. “Mulder?”

“Yeah.” He loosens his hold on her and waits for her to wake up. “What happened?”

Scully's eyes flutter open. Brief confusion, then panic, then something that might fall somewhere between embarrassment and a resigned acceptance. She rolls off of him and sits on the edge of the couch, rubbing her eyes. “How do you feel, Mulder?”

“Fine,” he says. “A little sore, maybe, but… why were you…”

A faint blush spreads over Scully's cheekbones. She shrugs. “I was worried about you. I didn't want to leave you alone.”

Mulder drags his teeth over his lower lips, considering. He doesn't mind sharing his makeshift bed with her—quite the opposite, actually—but somehow, he doesn't think this is a segue into getting back together. If Scully's face provides any clue, it definitely isn't. She looks guilty and embarrassed. “Scully…” he starts, uncertain.

“I need to check on your burns,” she says determinedly, turning to face him. Their eyes meet, and she looks completely professional now. As if crawling in and sleeping beside your patient/partner is totally normal behavior. “And then, if you're feeling up to it, we need to go back to Fairfax. The local police and firemen handled the explosion sight, but they'd like our side of things.”

“Sure,” Mulder says with a sigh, shifting into a sitting position on the couch.

There's blisters up and down his arms, but no signs of infection. Scully washes and rebandages the wounds before heading into the bathroom to freshen up. Mulder downs two painkillers and changes into a clean suit in his room. They leave about a half hour later, Scully driving, Mulder rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to pick absently at his bandages.

He knows little to nothing about medical jargon, but he knows you're not supposed to break open blisters, or else you risk infection. He feels like Scully staying with him the night before was the equivalent of breaking open a blister. Now they're risking infection.

#i feel like the metaphor at the end of this chapter is a little gross #xf fanfic #i wrote this #xf rewatch

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aquariuswannabe · 4 years

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Life is boring so I decided to stay up late for the 1 millionth time in my life. To be more sustainable, from now on I’m keeping my laptop on my desk and not on the floor or my bed incase it overheats or gets stepped on again. From now on, I’m trying my hardest to keep my room clean. I can’t say so about my shelf... it’s not particularly messy since there's not much stuff there but its not particularly... clean either. About a week ago when my mum cleaned my room she found my library card and I thought that I lost it because I was too lazy find it again after I hid underneath my bed to try and cover up the fact that I overslept. (didn’t work, hasn’t the past 4 times) So basically now, I’m writing this while watching YouTube on my iPad because sleep doesn’t exist anymore. You can already tell by my blue ass dark circles around my eyes. But that doesn’t really matter anymore. Since it’s a Friday, (more like a Saturday very early in the morning) I can sleep in all I want. But for now, I just want to stay up. I found two pictures of reallllly fucking good looking food on Pinterest! It reminds me that I’m hungry, but I can’t really eat now. That’s fine. Watching the “Z e l d a w a v e I I” video on YouTube made me remember how good all of the multiple versions of Fairy Fountain are. The original is good, so is the vaporware version, the piano version is AMAZING, but the slowed version is just the chefs kiss. It makes me feel like I’m slowly drifting away from life in my lovers arms, safely and happily and a finally dying world. Do you get what I mean? It’s so oddly and eerily satisfying to think of that. But the song itself is sooo calming. Personally for me I prefer slow reverb versions because they either have a calmer and more relaxed vibe or a sexier vibe and I like both of those, plus they always make the songs sound so much better imo. But that’s just me!! Plus, it’s my cat’s birthday today. Fun fact: I used to not count 12:00 as the next day because it wasn’t a restarting number!! How silly is that... but yes. 12:00AM is officially the 19th of September 2020, my cat’s 14th birthday. My mum wants to make him a tuna cake. I really like the dark. It’s so relaxing at night time... with the warm weather but nice cool breeze blowing on you, exactly ideal for me. Plus, it always feels better after you have a shower. I have to admit my hygiene has been lacking for a while. I PROMISE!! that I’ll do something to change that. It’s really not healthy. I know, I’m shitty at remembering a lot! Don’t worry babe <3 I’ll get to things eventually. OH and btw, if it wasn’t obvious, I’m a Hufflepuff. Maybe it WASN’T obvious. I honestly don't know if I’m like the stereotype... I hope I’m not, but I do believe I’m most like Hufflepuff out of all the Harry Potter Houses, and I don’t even like harry potter or spend any time of day researching it. I must remind myself to stop eating btw, before I had a series of throwing up for 3 full days and diarrhea for 5 whole days, I was gaining weight. So from now on, I’ll try my best NOT to be lazy and to actually have the motivation to walk to school. Anyways, I feel like it’s time to stop writing. At this point I’m just full on rambling!! Like what’s the point! Plus, I’m getting impatient for something I forgot I was going to do! Oh right, it was put my empty plate in the kitchen. And yes, there are different time zones. So it is currently 12:27am for me. Oh and one quick fact before I go: my favorite animals are frogs, ducks, turtles and cats. Enjoy Lauren as your leaving present!

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denimwrites-archive · 6 years

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Friends? (Part 2)

Prompt: Not a request - I couldn’t just leave it as a cliffhanger, so I continued it. The last part will come out next week.

Fandom: Newsies (2017) - Modern College AU

Pairing: Davey Jacobs X Male Reader

Summary: Jack’s plan for getting you to confess is a little unorthodox, and leads to some new problems, but it’s done with good intentions so can it be that bad? The answer is… probably?

Word Count: 3,107

Warnings: Bars (no alcohol consumption though), food, angst, idk

A/N: I tried to make this just a two parter, but looks like this will be three parts but like I said previously in this fic Jack is bi, Davey is gay, and the reader’s sexuality is left ambiguous. He/him pronouns are used for the reader and I apologize if I don’t write a male reader very well, but I’m trying. Any tips or recommendations would be greatly appreciated! The plan Jack has is probably not that obvious, but it’ll be better explained in the next (and final) part.

Friends? Series - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

~~~

You were not expecting to see Jack Kelly on your doorstep when you answered the heavy pounding on your door. Furrowing a brow as he pushed past you and into your apartment, you closed the door and waited expectantly for him to spill about his newest scheme. “So, (Y/N), how’s the dating game going for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him and head to the kitchen for a snack. There is no way you’re having this conversation with Jack, especially without something to stop yourself from talking. You hear him follow behind you and you grab some chips before turning back to the artist with a dead expression on your face.

He gives you a look, which you don’t acknowledge and he shrugs before continuing. “I was just thinkin’ that maybe if you got yourself somebody then I wouldn’t have to keep setting up people on blind dates. There’s only so many people I can introduce my friends to, y’know?” he lets out a light chuckle and you just raise your eyebrow at him incredulously.

“Well then, Mr. Love Guru, what was your idea? Set me up on a dating website?” Laughing at the idea of it, you take a bite of chips. However you almost choke on those chips when Jack just sheepishly smiles and shrugs his shoulders. Swallowing thickly, you immediately start to protest. “No. No way in hell, Kelly. I don’t have time to deal with all the shitheads who are on the internet. I have school, and work, and too much stuff to focus on my love life.”

“That’s the beauty of my plan!” Jack says, holding up a placating hand. “I would check it out for you. You would only have to fill out the profile and I’d set up everything. If you match with someone I can scope ‘em out and see if they’re who they say, then bring you on the double date. If you don’t like ‘em then it’s no harm no foul or whatever the stupid saying is.”

He’s looking at you imploringly and you take a deep breath, considering it. It is different than all the other times people have tried to get you to try online dating. And you know that Jack’s probably desperate enough to find you an actually pleasant date. You bob your head thinking about the possible outcomes, Jack looking at you expectantly.

Finally, you let out a sigh and nod your head. Jack pumps the air with his fist in triumph, but you hold up a hand and he pauses. “One condition: I am allowed to back out of pre-planned double dates if school or work comes up.” You see Jack start to protest, but you level him with a look and he sighs in defeat.

Sticking out a hand to shake, he grasps your hand firmly and pumps it a few times, face serious, and the deal is made. Jack’s smile immediately returns and he then moves to your couch where you left your laptop and pulls up the website. Fortunately it was free, so you at least wouldn’t waste any money if this venture didn’t work out.

You spend the next half an hour filling out the different boxes with information. By the end of it you’re really tired of talking about yourself and your ‘ideal’ partner. Jack knows your login information, but you trust him not to do anything too stupid. He leaves with a promise to only use this information for good, and you make sure he keeps that promise with a threat to expose his amazing singing voice.

His face paled and you knew he would definitely behave himself now. You always pulled that card when you needed Jack to be serious. Everyone always bugs him since he’s an artist, but if they knew how well he could sing too, he would be tortured with requests and people asking for proof and such.

Finding yourself alone in your apartment once again, you decide to try and get some homework done before your shift in two hours. Making more progress than you thought possible, you head to work content that you can somewhat relax when you get back to your apartment.

The next few days go by without much difference, class is boring, and work isn’t better, but life continues on. Until you get a text from Jack saying he might have found someone for you. ‘I’m meeting them at the bar two blocks down if you want to come spy and see how they look’ he texts you. Checking the clock, you see it’s about seven and that you could just scout them out and be home at a reasonable hour.

‘Be there in a few’ you reply, before grabbing a jacket and making your way down the street. Your mind wanders to who they could be. Sure you trusted Jack’s judgement, but that didn’t mean you were any less nervous. Stepping through the door, you see that the bar is pretty well packed, but not completely crowded.

You scan the room, but don’t spot Jack. You quickly decide to take one of the few open seats at the bar instead of possibly drawing unwanted attention. You order some water, not really in the mood for alcohol, and try looking for Jack again.

Still unable to find him, you slowly sip on your water and scroll through your phone. Sending Jack a quick text of, ‘I’m here, where are you?’ but not getting any response, you let out a sigh and start to get up, leaving the bartender a tip for their time.

However, your attempt to leave is foiled when you bump into a very solid mass. Taking in the person in front of you, you’re struck speechless for a second at their sheer radiance. They smile and you can feel your cheeks heat up and you stutter out an apology. They apologize too and then you’re both just standing there looking at each other.

They clear their throat, breaking you out of your daze. “I’m Devin,” they say, sticking out a hand.

“(Y/N),” you reply, shaking their hand. “Um…” you trail off, unsure what to do. The same thought seems to be going through their head as they glance over to the bar and then back at you. They take in the fact that you seemed to be leaving and go with it.

“Do you want to go on a walk?” they ask, gesturing towards the door. You contemplate it and decide that it’s still early enough that people would still be walking down the street and would see you. Giving a small nod, you both make your way towards the door.

After you step out into the evening air though, you spot a familiar face making their way towards you. “Oh, hey, Davey!” you say. He glances up to you and seems to freeze when he sees the person next to you.

“O-oh. Hey, (Y/N)! How are you?” he asks, obviously nervous.

“I’m alright. Are you okay? Is Jack trying to set you up too?” At the mention of Jack, Davey seems to pale but he plays it off with a crooked smile.

“Uh, yeah, y’know Jack. I was just about to go meet them. My ‘date’. In there.” He gestures towards the bar. “Guess I should head in then. Um… Have a good night.” And then he disappears inside. You give a small wave after him before turning back to Devin.

“Shall we?” they ask, offering you an arm. You gently take it and follow their lead as they head in the direction of the nearby park. They start the conversation with easy topics, but then you discover your similar taste in music and you both light up and eagerly chat. Time flies and soon enough it’s heading towards eleven o’clock and you are the last people in the park.

Deciding you should probably get home you start to say your goodbyes, but Devin gives you their number and so you give yours as well. Waving goodbye, a smile stays on your face well into the next morning.

When you see Davey in class you ask him how his date went. At first you’re met with a confused stare, but then it comes back to him. Davey lies and says it was alright, but they didn’t really hit it off in just the right way. Nodding your head in understanding, you don’t notice his sigh of relief when you don’t prod further.

“So, how was yours? That person seemed nice.” You can’t fight the smile that makes its way to your face again and you eagerly tell him about your awesome conversation. You talk until class starts, but you notice how Davey kind of deflates more as the class goes on.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” He brushes you off saying he was just tired before leaving and heading straight to his next class, rather than talk with you like he normally does. You worry for a little bit, but ultimately decide to just let it go. If he wasn’t feeling the best, bugging him about it wouldn’t help any. Plus you could always have another movie night to help him feel better.

And that’s exactly what you did. That Saturday you invited him over for a marathon and you provided snacks and ice cream. Davey seemed happier when you invited him over and you could see him relax more and more as the night wore on. Soon enough his eyes started to get heavy and then he was leaning on you.

Well isn’t this ironic, you thought as you realize this is the reverse of what happened last time. Davey shifts and ends up with his head on your lap. At least he didn’t wake up like I did, you chuckle to yourself. The movie continues to play and you find yourself absentmindedly running your hand through Davey’s hair. His breathing gets deeper and you know that he’s fast asleep.

Letting out a sigh, you can’t help but wish this was a more common occurrence. The rhythm of his deep breathing soon lulls you to sleep and the next thing you know your neck is screaming in pain. Groaning you attempt to move it and hiss as it burns slightly before your muscles loosen up. Blearily wiping your eyes you look around before focusing on the weight in your lap.

You see that Davey is still resting in your lap, blissfully unaware of neck pain. You glance at the clock to see that it wasn’t too early in the morning. Ruffling Davey’s hair he lets out a little whine before snuggling into you, causing you to freeze and focus on anything other than his proximity.

Then you hear him mumble something. Furrowing your brow you try to concentrate on what he’s saying. However, when you realize what he’s saying you have to try and contain your laughter. Well now we’re even on the whole weird dream business, you think as Davey continues to mutter about a hippo following him.

“Go away, Huntington. No one needs your celery.” And with that you can’t hold in your chuckles. Your shaking body wakes Davey up slightly, but he lifts his head to look at the time before letting out a grumble and attempts to go back to sleep, still on your lap.

“Davey,” you whisper. He groans in response. “I’ll make you coffee if you let me up.”

Your proposal is met with silence until you try to get up on your own. “Noooo,” Davey whines and wraps an arm awkwardly around your leg. Rolling your eyes at him, you remain in place. Good thing neither of us has work today.

Another hour goes by and you’re lightly dozing again when you feel Davey stir. This time when he looks at the clock, he actually gets up, and tries not to disturb you as he makes his way to the kitchen for coffee. He gets everything ready and looks through your cupboards for some actual food before settling on some plain cereal to snack on.

Davey can’t help but look back at you still asleep on the couch with a smile on his face. Sure he still hadn’t confessed his feelings to you yet, and been caught totally off guard when he saw you with that person at the bar, but he actually felt hopeful about getting it off of his chest soon. And he was almost confident that you felt the same way. Or at least, he did until you decided to answer your phone.

You groaned as your phone went off, pulling you from your slumber. Rubbing your eyes and checking the number, you answered with a gruff, “Hello?” voice thick with sleep. “Oh, hey, Devin.” You yawned. “How are you?” … Checking the clock you saw that it was around ten in the morning, “Uh… Yeah sure. I could use some food. Meet you at Hawkins’ Diner in ten?” … “See you then. Bye.”

Davey felt as if he had been socked in the gut, but plastered a smile on his face when you made your way to the kitchen. Taking a quick sip of the coffee he handed you, you gave Davey a pat on the back. “Thanks, man. I gotta get ready, but I promise to grab you a slice of the blueberry pie you love so much.”

“No problem,” he replied as you headed to your room to change. You didn’t see the way his face fell, and Dave didn’t see the way you heaved in a hard breath. Devin was a nice person, one that you knew had an interest in you. Rather than possibly ruin your friendship with Davey, one of the best humans on the planet, you had decided to try and forge on with new possible relationships despite the pain at doing so.

When you were ready to go, you gave Davey a hug and invited him to stay for as long as he wanted, then headed out the door. After you were gone he let out a frustrated groan and threw himself back onto the couch, cereal and coffee long forgotten. Dave decided that he had someone to blame for this turn of events, and he wasn’t going to let them off easy.

Dialling Jack’s number, Davey hyped himself up to give him a real talking to over his “brilliant plan”. But of course, Jack didn’t pick up. Leaving a short and sweet voicemail of, “Great idea for getting (Y/N) and I together Jack. Right now he’s off getting breakfast with someone he met at the bar the other night. I guess there are no second chances.”

What Davey didn’t know however, was that over the course of breakfast with Devin you realized that you didn’t have that spark. The ‘wow how did I live without you’ type feeling that you had when you looked at a certain someone else. Bringing it up gently, Devin felt the same way, but you two made plans to go see a movie that Wednesday, as friends.

Grabbing a slice of pie to go, and waving goodbye to Devin, you made your way back to your apartment. Seeing Davey lying facedown on the couch, you put the pie on the counter and put away the leftover cereal and coffee. He must have heard you moving around the kitchen though, since he gets up and grabs his jacket in quite the hurry.

Saying a quick goodbye, he leaves the pie on the counter and he’s gone. You realize he left it, and send him a quick text saying you’ll drop it off at his place later. After some time doing random stuff around your apartment, you make your way to his apartment, pie in hand.

As you knock on the door, you bounce on the balls of your feet, trying to let out some nervous energy. You’re surprised to see Jack answer the door, and immediately become suspicious of his too-wide grin and Davey’s frozen look of shock. It’s obvious that they were talking about something important. Raising a brow at them, you lift the pie as an explanation and Jack motions you in.

Putting the pie in the fridge, you turn back to the two to see them having a conversation with their eyes. “Well, I just came by to give Davey the pie I promised him. I’m going to head to the grocery store, then home. See you guys later.”

But as you turn to leave, Jack places a hand on your shoulder, rotating you back around. “Aw, c’mon (Y/N), the night’s still young! Why not head out with ol’ Davey and me? We’ll have a grand old time.”

“The night’s still young because the sun’s still up, Jack. What’re we going to do, go out to a bar in the afternoon? We’re not that desperate for things to do,” Davey says, making a good point. Giving Jack a look, you and Davey are able to convince him to do something other than drink. Surprising the two of you though, Jack immediately comes up with a backup plan that interests all of you: the art museum in town.

Jack gets you a ride and leads you two on an all encompassing tour since he interned there last spring. You discuss the different pieces and soon enough it’s closing time and you have to leave. As you’re walking down the steps, Jack says he has a date with Katherine, and splits off without much hesitation.

You offer to share a ride with Davey and you sit in content silence as you make your way to your respective homes. Dave is dropped off first and you wave as he walks inside. Settling back in the car’s seats and letting out a heavy sigh you can’t help but feel like you’re back to square one.

“Your boyfriend seems nice,” your driver pulls you from your thoughts. Cheeks heating up at the thought you stutter out that you’re only friends. “Oh, well you two would make a cute couple, but that’s just my two cents.”

Mind racing as you enter your apartment, the driver’s words echoing in your head. Maybe you should try to tell Davey how you feel? But then what would happen to your relationship if it didn’t work out, or if he didn’t feel the same at all?

Sleep that night is fitful for you and Davey, but Jack is already planning another attempt to get you two together, and this time it was bound to work.

#davey jacobs x reader #davey jacobs fanfiction #davey jacobs x male reader #male reader insert #reader insert #newsies x reader #newsies fanfiction #newsies reader insert #Friends?#Friends? Series #musical x reader #musical fanfiction #musical reader insert #my writing #not a request

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