#so uh i wrote when he found Gordon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluejaysandblackbats · 2 months

Text

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Two: The Dewey Decimal System

Jason got out of bed early in the morning, looking for Jim. After a few minutes of looking around, he knocked on Barbara's bedroom door. Barbara opened her door and put on her glasses. "Where's your dad?" Jason asked.

"Good morning," Barbara mumbled. Jason stood there for a while, trying to figure out what he wanted. "He didn't change his mind. You can still stay here... But I think you should come into work with me."

"On the motorcycle?" Jason asked. Barbara laughed and shook her head.

"We're taking a cab," Barbara explained. Jason pushed a hand through his hair, and Barbara noticed a few circular-shaped burns on the back of Jason's hand and on his arms. Some were old, some were new. "Hey, where'd you get those burns?"

Jason shoved his hand into the pocket of his pajama pants. "Don't worry about it," Jason mumbled as he turned and rushed back to his room and shut the door. Barbara's shoulders dropped, and she cursed under her breath. Barbara was hoping that he'd just tell her. She took her shower and got dressed for work, and by the time she was ready, Jason was in the kitchen making breakfast as if nothing happened.

Jason poured himself a glass of orange juice. "Your dad is gonna lose it when he finds out how many days of school I've missed," Jason mumbled.

"Well, that gives you something to do this summer while I'm at work. You'll get caught up soon enough," Barbara replied. Jason put half of his bagel on her plate. "Thanks."

"It's the last one. I just didn't want to be a jerk," Jason replied. Barbara took a bite and smiled at him. He wore a striped sweatshirt that he found in the closet. It was far too big, but he liked it.

After Barbara finished eating breakfast, she went through the fridge and prepared lunch for both of them. Jason washed his hands and sat on the couch. "Want some eggs?" Barbara asked. Jason shook his head and turned the tv on. "So, just half of a bagel?"

"I'm full. Hey, what do I call you? Do I just call you Babs?" Jason asked.

"Or Barbara. You can call me Barbara," she answered, and Jason nodded.

"Barbara," Jason repeated to himself. She plopped down next to him on the couch, and Jason glanced over at her. He could still see glimpses of his mother in her, and it made him a little bit sad. He took a deep breath and lay his head on her shoulder.

"Did you sleep?" Barbara asked, her voice soft.

"Nope," Jason mumbled. She looked over at him.

"You know it's okay for you to go to sleep here," Barbara whispered. Jason nodded. "I'm serious, Jason."

"Yeah... It's one thing to say that. I've tried staying with people before, and it just doesn't work," Jason whispered.

"Well, you've never stayed with us... It'll be different," Barbara reassured him, "Come on, I'll call a cab when we get outside."

Barbara put her shoes on and grabbed their lunches. Jason followed her outside, and by the time they got to the library, Jason was half-asleep. Barbara nudged him.

"Do you know how the Dewey decimal system works?" Barbara asked. Jason shrugged, and Barbara went behind the desk and wrote a list. "Do you have a library card?"

"Nuh-uh..." Jason answered. Barbara shook her head and clocked in. She got him signed up for a library card and gave him a login for the computers. "Barbara?"

"When you find those books, you can come back here and read down here," Barbara whispered. Jason cocked his head. "There's a bean bag chair down here."

Jason nodded and waved before wandering the library. Jason hated to admit it, but he liked having someone care about him. He found the books in a short amount of time and joined Barbara behind the counter. As people came in and asked questions, Jason would playfully nudge her. Barbara kept her composure, only allowing herself to laugh when it was just the two of them. "Jason, stop," she chuckled as she playfully kicked at him.

Jason grinned and went back to reading. After a while, Jason grew silent, and Barbara almost forgot that he was there. She nearly tripped over him on her way to the book chute. Barbara opened her mouth to apologize, and he lay fast asleep in the bean bag chair. She took off her sweater and draped it over him. She continued to work as Jason slept, and when lunchtime came around, she crouched down and nudged Jason. He covered his mouth and yawned. "What happened?" Jason mumbled.

Barbara took her sweater and helped him up. "You fell asleep. It's time for lunch. Wanna come outside with me?" she asked. He nodded and let her lead him outside. Barbara carried their lunches in her other hand.

They sat on the benches behind the library, and Jason started eating his sandwich. "Barbara?" Jason asked.

"Hm?" she replied as she took a bite of her boiled egg. "What's wrong?"

Jason didn't say anything. Barbara chewed her lip. He finished eating the first half of his sandwich, and he sighed. "They're cigarette burns," Jason mumbled, "So, yeah."

"Did your parents do—?"

"My mom would never—." Jason paused to lower his voice. "My mom would never hurt me... I don't want to talk about that. I just didn't want you making stuff up in your head."

"It must be hard to talk about people who've hurt you—."

"It's not just—. It's not—. I did some of them," Jason whispered, "I don't want you to think I'm weird."

"I don't think you're weird. I mean, I look at you and I just sort of see a kid... I don't really know you yet. I do know that there's something special about you," Barbara answered, "I don't know what it is, and I don't really care at this point. Just know that I like you... And that I'm gonna look after you." She reached to touch Jason's wrist, and he pulled away.

"People promise things all the time, Barbara... But, it doesn't mean you'll keep your word. People change their minds," Jason whispered. Barbara didn't argue with him. She just nodded and went back to eating.

Jason put his food away and went back inside. She didn't follow him. After Barbara finished eating, she went back inside to look for him. Barbara nudged her coworker and asked, "Max, have you seen a little boy with dark hair and blue eyes?"

"YA. Are you babysitting?" Max questioned in return. Barbara shook her head and went back to looking for Jason.

He sat on the floor reading, and she looked down at him. "Mad at me?" Barbara asked. Jason shook his head. "I hope you stick around long enough for me to make good on my promise."

Jason wanted to smile, and he wanted to believe her, but he just couldn't. He wouldn't look at her. Barbara crouched down in front of him and tapped him on the nose. She knew it'd take a while to earn his trust, but she was willing to wait. "Thank you for telling me. You didn't have to, but I'm glad you did," she softly thanked him, opening her arms. Jason embraced her, and she sat across from him.

Jason showed her the inside of the book in an attempt to change the subject. "The Statue of Liberty was a gift from the French?" Jason asked.

"Cool, huh?" Barbara replied.

"It's all ancient history to me," he joked. Barbara shook her head and messed up his hair.

"Wanna come back behind the desk? Max is harmless," Barbara offered. Jason hesitated before joining Barbara on her way back to the desk. "Max, this is Jason. Jason, this is Max... No personal questions Max, just know that he'll be coming to work with me sometimes." Jason shook Max's hand and plopped back down on the bean bag chair.

Barbara clocked back in and worked the front desk while Max put books back. Jason tugged her pant leg and asked her for a bookmark. "Going back to sleep?" Barbara asked. Jason nodded.

"I mean... if that's okay," Jason mumbled. Barbara nodded.

Jason drifted off to sleep quickly after their conversation ended, and he slept until the end of her shift. "Do you want me—?"

"Don't wake him up yet. I'm just gonna check out his books, and I'll get him. Don't worry," Barbara whispered, "Um, Max... Remember you told me about your girlfriend's little brother?"

"Is that who this is? Dick doesn't have a little brother, though. Unless," Max turned around to look at Jason, and Jason took a sharp inhale of breath and woke up.

"He's not Dick's little brother... He's um... He's my—. Jason, do you wanna check out your books so we can go?" Barbara asked just as her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. "Sorry, Max, I gotta take this. It's my dad." She told Jason she'd be out front, and she stepped outside to answer her phone. "Hey, Dad."

"Is Jason with you?" Jim asked.

"Uh... Yeah, he went to work with me. I just didn't want to leave him alone. Why? Is something wrong?" Barbara responded.

"To get guardianship of him, I would have to notify his parents—."

"His parents aren't alive. He told me himself last night—."

"But that's just it. I think Jason believes that. I did a little digging, and I found out I did take his father in a few times, and during that time, Jason was in the care of Catherine Todd. She legally adopted him when he was an infant, but his birth mother's been missing since shortly after he was born," Jim explained.

"What do you mean birth mother?" Barbara asked. Jason came outside carrying a stack of books. "Dad, we'll be home in a little bit. I'll talk to you then... Bye." She hung up and took a few of Jason's books from him.

"Is he mad at me?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head. "I can't stay there anymore, can I?"

"Jason, you can stay with us as long as you want," Barbara reassured, "It's nothing like that..."

33 notes · View notes

maddipoof · 3 months

Text

It would appear that I've had this posted to AO3 for 5 months but I just forgot to post it here. Part 2 to Smile

CW: Swearing, almost kidnapping but she changes her mind and goes with them anyway even though they tell her she can go. I dont know man, i wrote this in the summer, the heat was getting to me But i think its good so have fun

You’d been driving for longer than you cared to realize with Tangerine’s foot pressed all the way to the floor. Lemon seemed much friendlier without the mask, and when he wasn’t trying to restrain you for your kidnapping on behalf of your ill-begotten best friend. And Tangerine seemed…much more attractive under that mask.

It was strange, looking out the window, far enough from the city that the stars had finally started to return. You’d been in a very stolen car, for what was about to become a very long time, with two very strange men. Not to mention you had at least 15 million on you in jewelry alone, and the fact that your father had no limit to what he would pay to get you back. All things considered, it made for a very interesting impromptu trip into the countryside, especially since you had a strange respect for them, though it seemed undeserved.

You looked out at the stretch of road ahead of you, then at the fuel gauge. You pushed up using the front seats and the corners of your lips betrayed you when you were closer to Tangerine than you anticipated. You took a second to compose yourself, a second longer than you would have liked and one he absolutely noticed. “You can get off at that exit.”

“As you wish, love.”

You smiled on purpose this time and flicked his earring as you lowered yourself back into your seat. Lemon looked at you then nodded up. “You’re a James, maybe a Thomas, but I’m thinking James. What’you think, mate?”

“Definitely a James,” Tangerine nodded like he’s been considering it thoroughly the whole drive.

“Is this some type of code or something?”

“Nah, you know Thomas the Tank Engine?” Lemon reached into his jacket to get something.

“I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

He pulled out a book of stickers and found the first one of a smiling red train. “You’re a James.”

Tangerine made a train sound from the front, “Hoot Hoot.”

Lemon stuck it on your chest and you had to laugh at the juxtaposition. “Hmmm, Lemon, you’re an Aquarius. Tangerine, you’re a Scorpio.”

“So certain.” Tangerine scoffed in front.

“Ahhh, that’s where you’re wrong, bruv. Close, but we’re twins.”

“I’m sorry?” You looked back and forth between them.

“You got something to say about it?” Tangerine asked.

“No, not at all. Just, surprising.”

“Is it?” Lemon leaned back with his arms crossed.

“You don’t look very…twinish.”

“Semantics, luv.”

“Try not to get too caught up in it. But I’m an Edward, Tan’s a Gordon.”

“What does that mean?”

“Edwards, kind, wise. Gordon here, strongest, most important, but doesn’t listen to others.”

“Not true, I’m takin directions right now. Turn where, darling?”

“Left. So I’m a James, he’s a Gordon, you’re an Edward? And you’re twins.”

“Right-o.”

“Exactly, and care to tell us where we’re going?”

“We’ll see.”

“You don’t know where we’re fuckin going?”

“I know where, I just don’t know if it’s still open.”

“This it?” You were nearing the end of the road and had to crane your neck up to see the top of the building. The light pouring out of every window was almost blinding.

“Huh, they must’ve expanded.”

“Clearly.” Tangerine huffed then drove around to the side to park.

“Right then, let’s go.” You went to open your door before Lemon grabbed your other wrist and Tangerine looked back aghast.

“You’re going in like that?!” He looked down at your dress.

“I don’t have many options.”

“Fucking-uh,” Tangerine looked around like he’d be able to find something in the impromptu getaway car. “Lemon,” he hit his seat with the back of his hand, “give her your jacket.”

“What?”

“It’ll be like a dress. People do that.”

“‘People’ yes. Me, no.”

“You’re really fuckin doin this now.”

“Not much of a choice, mon ami. Allons-y.” You got out and had to spin to get the last of your skirts out the door before you slammed it.

“She’s fuckin French.” Tangerine raised an exhausted hand towards your closed door.

“Her doll house as a child was a mansion, bruv. Of course, she speaks French. Let’s go.”

Tangerine slapped his hands on the steering wheel as soon as Lemon got out. He pushed his hair back then followed you in.

You got a few looks once the doorman let you in, Lemon and Tangerine caught up to you sooner than expected since they jogged to catch up. More concern was raised at the blood and bruises rather than anything else, but the Twins looking even more disheveled did not help your case.

“Bonsoir, madame,” you spoke to the woman at the front desk, asking for 3 rooms just for the night.

“Je suis desolée, madame. Il y a une chambre libre. Cela vous dérangerait-il d'en partager un?”

“Euh, un moment, si-vous-plait.” You turned back to the Twins, “I asked for 3 rooms, but there’s only one available.”

“So we…”

“We can share, or we can keep looking.”

“Ask her if there’s somewhere else we can look.”

“C'est le seul hôtel de la région. Mais il y a une auberge de jeunesse à environ une demi-heure au sud.” The only other option being a hostel, a half hour back towards the city.

“Merci, nous prendrons la chambre. Euh, c'est peut-être une demande étrange, mais puis-je payer avec…” You took off your other teardrop diamond earring, the largest in the center being the size of your thumb nail. “Ça? Et Nous gardons cela secret?”

She stared down at the gleaming diamond staring back at her. “Euuhhhh, oui, absolument.”

She gave you the key and told you the room number.

“This was the only option.” You led them to the elevators and took it up to the top floor.

You pushed the key in, the thick metal kind with the wooden tag on the end, and didn’t bother looking around before you went right into the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower!”

It took you 5 minutes of struggling with the back of your dress before you went back out to get one of them to help you.

Lemon had already passed out on the couch, flat on his back with his mouth open and one ankle thrown over the armrest.

Tangerine had his back to the headboard of one of the two double beds and was trying to find an English channel on the TV.

“Tangerine?”

“Yea?”

“Could you help me with the back?”

He nodded and you turned around, standing in front of the bathroom door. Your necklace, rings, and bracelets on the counter, obnoxiously catching the warm yellow light. It seemed like he was confused by the ties, either that or he was taking longer on purpose.

“You put yourself in a dress you couldn’t get out of?”

“I didn’t do it myself, I had a whole fuckin team. It was ridiculous.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything else, love?”

“No, thank you.” You held the dress up to your chest when you turned to face him. “Actually, could you call the front desk and ask for extra blankets?”

“How many?”

You shrugged, “As many as you think.” He nodded and you stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door.

During your shower, you were only focused on the absolute insanity of your situation and the growing aches in every place you were struck. You couldn’t bring yourself to mind that you were in a room with two complete strangers who just tried to kidnap you a few hours earlier. You were fully aware that they could still do so and get the very same ransom from your family, or save themselves the trouble and kill you anyway. They have the 10 million dollar necklace and who knows how many thousands of dollars of other jewelry in the same room, what more would they need. You lost focus and got soap in one of your cuts. “MMMmmph!” you bit your lip to keep quiet. “Holy fuck.” It didn’t help much.

You realized as soon as you shut off the water that you had nothing to wear. After wrapping yourself in the fluffy white towel hanging on the other side of the glass door, you crossed your fingers and hoped there was a robe in the closet. Opening it, you found nothing so you tucked the towel tighter and tried the one right outside the bathroom. Right as you turned the corner, your eye was caught by Tangerine again. Laying right where he was before, but this time looking much more comfortable and much more shirtless.

Your hands reached for the big white robe but your eyes kept straying to him. He wasn’t what you were expecting, thinking most men in his line of work were all dark and mysterious, lithe and acrobatic, thin and scarred. He was no such thing.

“You alright, love?”

“I’m not your ‘love.’”

“It’s just a phrase. But still–”

“I’m fine, just getting a robe.”

“Right.”

You went back into the bathroom to try and fix your hair into something reasonable and get yourself ready for bed with your currently limited means.

“You’re wearing that?”

You pulled the covers back on your bed. “You forget that I showed up here in a full ballgown.”

“That you did.” You laid down and tried to relax. “We can get you something tomorrow, if you want.”

“Like to wear?”

“Yea, so we can get out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever you like.”

“No, it’s your turn.”

“Italy then. Fake names, sell off all your shit,” he waved a hand in the direction of the bathroom. “Buy a farm or something.”

“A tiny little island.”

“Exactly. And you probably speak Italian.”

“Not fluently, but I could learn.”

“Perfect. We’ll get you something to wear, head there right after.”

“If,” he turned to you again. “You pinky promise not to kill me.”

“That’s what you’re counting on? A pinky promise?”

“I find them sacred.”

“And if I break it?”

“I’ll kill you.”

“But you’d be dead if I killed you.”

“Only if I say so.”

He rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand to you. You linked your pinky with his and shook it.

“I promise not to kill you if you don’t kill me.”

“I promise. You sure you’re comfortable in that?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s soft enough. You’re fine sleeping in slacks?”

“Don’t worry about me, love. Good night.”

“Good night.”

***The next morning***

You woke up to an empty room, windows open letting the air in and fluttering the curtains.

There was a striped cotton wrap dress laying on the end of your bed. Tags and hanger still on, with another note on top of it.

We left the necklace and the dress, but we needed the bracelet for cab fare. Find us in Italy, you know where we’ll be.

From the shadow on the other side, it looked like there was something else written on the back.

Tangerine thought you’d guess, but we have a friend in Linosa, I’m sure you’ll find us there. Easy.

(pssssttt, please comment and reblog so I don't keep writing just for no one to tell me what they like about it. I'm also open to all sorts of feed back so if your fingers are itching to say something just go for it babes)

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train x reader #mara's fics

24 notes · View notes

circusgoth-dotcom · 10 months

Text

Welcome Home, Tommy Boy

Ship: Tommy Callahan (III) x Gabriel Hunt

Word Count: 1967

Summary: I did not expect this to get this long whoops. Anywho yes I've decided to ship with Tommy. 💕 Takes place after Tommy returns to Sandusky but before his dad dies, Tommy reunites with an old classmate. CWs for food mentions, alcohol mentions, smoking. I wrote this at nearly 2am so let me know if there's anything else I could tag. Also points to you if you get the reference at the very end LOL.

Tag List: @canongf @rexscanonwife @futurewife

Thomas Callahan II’s son was finally back from 7 years of college, which of course meant a big celebration for the workers at Callahan’s factory and Tommy’s high school friends. However, there was one guest at the “Welcome Home” party who was sure Tommy would not remember them. And yet, they turned up anyway, and almost immediately bumped into the man.

“Woah- sorry there, buddy!” Tommy was all buzzed-smiles and rosy cheeks. The sight made Gabriel’s stomach do flip-flops, even when Tommy’s brow furrowed in unrecognition. “Hey, uh, forgive me but, do I… know you? Are you a new worker or…?”

Gabriel forced out a breathy laugh. “Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. I don’t work for your dad’s company, however.” With that, he pushed forth into the noisy party, pulling his jean jacket closer to his body and hearing Tommy’s calls over his shoulder.

“Hey, wait! At least let me guess!”

He found his way to the kitchen and scanned the drink selection for something non-alcoholic, frowning to himself when he found his options limited. He could hear Tommy huffing his way toward him.

“So I’m guessing we went to high school together, right?” Tommy insisted as he got closer.

“Yes, Tommy. One question down, nineteen more to go,” Gabriel quipped as he picked up a bottle of ginger ale. “Boylan Ginger Ale? Wow, you guys really are rich.”

“What classes did we have together??” He asked as he followed them through the crowds and out into the yard.

“Tommy, I doubt you’ll remember me, even if I tell you. English and American History.”

Tommy’s face screwed up in thought while Gabriel busied himself with picking up a roasting stick and fastening a marshmallow to its pointed end.

“Can’t you just tell me your name? Argh… when’s your birthday?”

“December 24th.”

“Ooh! Do you get extra presents?”

“When people can afford it.” Gabriel hummed as he lightly toasted his marshmallow over the firepit.

“O-kay… where did you sit in those classes?” Tommy picked up his own stick and followed Gabriel’s lead, making them tilt their head slightly at his actions.

“Usually in the back.”

“What? Food helps me think-- ah!” Tommy yelped as his marshmallow caught on fire, quickly pulling it away from the pit and desperately blowing on it. Gabriel stifled a giggle, taking his evenly roasted treat out of the fire and inspecting it for burns.

“Damn!” Tommy swore at his blackened marshmallow. Then, without much hesitation, he bit into its crackly shell, making Gabriel wrinkle its nose.

“How can you stand the taste of burnt food?”

“I don’t like to waste things!” He responded through a mouthful of white fluff before swallowing thickly. “Who were you friends with, man? I’m wracking my brain here…”

Gabriel hummed again as he ate his own marshmallow and opened his ginger ale, taking a quick swig to clear his throat. “I wasn’t. Best I had were close acquaintances. I think… Elaine Enberg, Debbie Perkett, and some kid named Gordon sat with me at lunch sometimes.”

“Oh, oh, I remember Debbie! Alright, that narrows it down somewhat…”

Gabriel’s heartbeat hastened as he munched on some raw marshmallows and continued to drink his soda. Ears burning as he chugged the last of the carbonated beverage, he opened his mouth to speak and instead released a thick and hearty belch. As he closed his mouth in embarrassment, swearing everyone had turned to look at him, Tommy began to laugh, slapping his knees.

“Holy schnikes! Whew, that was a good one, dude! Didn’t think a little guy like you had it in ya!”

“Listen, Tommy, if you really want to know who I am, let’s ditch this crowd,” Gabriel spoke quickly, grabbing Tommy’s arm and leading him back into the house.

“It should be quiet upstairs! I’m going to get to the bottom of this!” Tommy announced, quickly taking charge and practically dragging Gabriel upstairs, eventually bringing him to a balcony facing the front of the house. It was much quieter here, with only the faint sounds of music from the floor below and the occasional car passing by to interrupt the silence. Gabriel sighed, feeling sweat trickling down his back as his hands began to shake.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked softly.

“Be my guest,” Tommy swept his arm out graciously as he leaned against the balcony railing. “Who are you??”

Retrieving a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, along with a lighter with a faded picture of Jesus on it, Gabriel took a deep breath. “Tommy… can I ask you some things first? I know I said I’d tell you who I am, and I will, but…”

As if sensing his anxiety, Tommy’s party energy turned to genuine concern for whatever was bothering his guest. “Go ahead, man, what’s up?”

“How do you feel about men who like men?”

Tommy scratched the back of his neck. “I… I dunno, I’ve never really thought about it before.” He shrugged, leaving it at that.

Gabriel opened the box of cigarettes, tracing his finger over the deathsticks, deciding which one he would smoke tonight despite them being all the same. “Alright. And what do you think of women who, deep down inside, know they’re really men? Or men who know they’re really women?”

Tommy’s expression continued to morph into one of confusion. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel selected a cigarette. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Tommy, do you remember a quiet, dark-haired girl with glasses who sometimes got partnered with you for history projects because… she didn’t seem to know how to make friends all that well?” It stumbled with the pronoun that brought it such disgust and self-loathing and lit the cigarette.

Tommy thought for a long moment before his eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, yeah I think I do! Are you her brother? I haven’t seen her in ages! Alli-”

“Don’t!” Even Gabriel flinched as he said it, his voice sounding like the yelp of a wounded dog. “Tommy, please don’t say that name.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” He suddenly gasped. “Did she die? Oh my God, I’m so sorry--”

“No, Tommy, that-that girl didn’t…” Gabriel turned away slightly as he puffed on his cigarette, feeling himself grow weaker as the conversation went on longer. “Well. I guess she kind of did.” They softly groaned to themself as they debated on letting Tommy believe they were the girl’s sibling and that the girl had died, or telling him the truth. “Last question. Please… promise me you won’t freak out over what I’m going to say next, or at least, as close to a promise as you can muster…”

Tommy swallowed, shook himself, and stood tall, as if bracing himself for a physical attack. “Sure, go ahead.”

Gabriel looked at him for a moment and couldn’t help but smile sadly at his stance, smoke curling around his mouth before taking another drag and blowing it out his nose. “Tommy… I was that girl. Tommy, I was a girl who knew deep, deep down that that wasn’t my truth. I’ve pretty much always knew I was meant to be a guy, but for some reason I was… born with the traits that make society say you’re a girl. I lived in pain for a long time. Once I graduated high school, I knew I couldn’t survive that way… so I cut and dyed my hair, got a new wardrobe, started wearing sports bras to flatten my chest… I don’t know how I did it but I even got my name legally changed. So… hi Tommy, my name’s Gabriel. I’m happy to see you again.”

Gabriel offered a shaking hand, tapping his ash over the railing with the other. There was a long pause that made him want to run away, but before he could, Tommy had enthusiastically grabbed his hand and shook it.

“I’m happy to see you, too, Gabriel! It’s been too long, what happened to you?” He exclaimed gleefully, reducing Gabriel to a shocked, mouth-half-open expression. As tears pricked his eyes, he let Tommy pull him into a tight bro hug, thumping his back.

“Ha--! Quite a lot Tommy, quite… a… lot,” Gabriel choked out, hiding his tears in the shoulder of his varsity jacket. He was sure Tommy didn’t quite understand what he had been talking about, but the fact he called him by the name he chose spoke volumes. They spent the rest of the night sitting on the balcony, catching up on each other’s lives. Gabriel had been working in retail for the past three years, and before that they had done two years of college before dropping out, bouncing between jobs as they tried to figure things out. They were very proud of Tommy for graduating at all, no matter how long it took him… he was obviously doing better than they were, after all. Tommy told them wild college stories, mostly filled with drunk and/or high shenanigans and rugby games. They talked so long, they didn’t even notice the party winding down below them until Tommy’s father came up and found them.

“There you are, Tommy boy! People have been asking for you, why’d you disappear up here?”

Tommy hopped up, helping Gabriel onto his feet. “Oh, dad, you’re never going to believe this! This is Gabriel, one of my high school classmates, I can’t believe I forgot about this dude!” He clapped them on the shoulder and they flushed slightly, feeling eternally relieved that Tommy didn’t start telling his dad what they had told him.

Gabriel offered his hand. “Mr. Callahan, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Thomas shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too! You must be a rather interesting fellow to steal Tommy away from the party like this.”

“We had a lot of catching up to do…” Gabriel yawned then. “I-I should be heading home, thank you for having me, sir.”

“It’s no trouble at all, in fact,” Thomas then went back to the top of the stairs to call down, “Richard! Are you still here?”

There was a pause. “Yes, sir.”

“I know it’s late, but can I ask you a favour?” Thomas waved for Gabriel to come closer. “This fine young friend of Tommy’s needs a ride home, if you’d be so kind, you’d have our utmost appreciation.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to interfere if this man needs to get home himself…” Gabriel spoke sheepishly as he came to look down at this “Richard;” a thin and generally good-looking man standing at the base of the stairs in a sharp suit, his coat draped over his arm.

“Like I said, no trouble!” Thomas insisted.

“Yes, very well… I can drive you home…”

“Gabriel.”

Richard nodded, though he looked less than pleased about the task ahead. Gabriel shrugged to himself and said his goodbyes before joining Richard in his vehicle.

Bonus: Richard-Gabriel interaction

“You know, I’m only doing this because my boss asked me to,” Richard spoke with some snark as he drove Gabriel home. Gabriel arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to get snappy about it, I’m not him. You very easily could’ve refused, I could’ve hailed a cab.”

Richard glanced him up and down and he instinctively shrunk into the seat a bit, his hair standing on end. “At this hour? You’d more likely be picked up by some stranger than a legitimate cab.”

“Aren’t all cab drivers strangers? Well, unless you’re friends with one, I suppose…”

“You know what I meant, are you as thick as Tommy?”

“I don’t like your tone, Richard.”

“Well you should because you could’ve ridden with a murderer tonight instead!”

Gabriel blinked, completely bewildered. Do you care or not care that I’m your passenger tonight??

“You are a sad, strange little man and you have my pity, Richard.”

#self insert #self insert x canon #self shipping #self shipping community #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #🚬🎃.s/i #🍬Tommy Baby🍺#circus scripts

23 notes · View notes

cosmic-hoboandthehighlander · 6 days

Note

Please tell me more about tedmort as teens if you could!

Play along with my wip ask game here!

Hi Babs! I would LOVE to!

So I was going through my drafts a few weeks back and found this silly idea I had years ago for that scene in My Girl where Thomas Jay and Vada are practicing kissing on their arms that I wrote for another fandom. I really liked the idea but wanted it Tedmort, so I wrote it….

And somehow it went from two shy eleven year olds to 17 year olds spending their last summer together before senior year. This really jump started a lot of my headcanons and ideas for a full-blown high school au (which is kind of in the works, in a variety of ways!) in which Teddy and Mort grew up together and went to school with Bob and Linda. Had to fiddle with ages a little for that one but eh, I don’t really mind!

So this is just a little oneshot, where Teddy asks Mort with help with his budding relationship with Denise by giving him some very platonic, not at all weird kissing lessons. Where he gets the idea that Mort, the weird goth kid who’s never had a girlfriend in his life, who plans pretend funerals for fun, would have any sort of experience with this, nobody knows. But it kind of turns into a whole thing; Teddy sharing a bit about his home life and how he’d like to go into the Navy after school and Mort having a hard time articulating how much he’ll actually miss Teddy if he does. Plus, there’s a bit of a coming out scene (Mort) and it’s very sweet.

The thing is, this au sort of contradicts with a few of my previous headcanons for the characters and their lives but to tell an interesting story, I think it’s alright. It’s an AU after all. I could probably ramble on all day (and I have rambled on for…probably 17 minutes in a voice memo?) on my version of Teddy in this AU and his relationship to his parents, specifically his dad. It’s not necessarily how I think his childhood went in canon, but it’s been fun!

Here’s a teaser because I have no self-control with not sharing things I’m excited about writing:

Teddy didn’t know what else to say, so he cracked a joke, “So what I’m hearing is…I’ve kissed more girls than you.”

Mort rolled his eyes, reaching over to shove Teddy’s shoulder, “You kissed the Genarro sisters.”

“You kissed Gordon Bosco!” Teddy exclaimed and Mort wrapped his arms protectively around his knees, looking very small.

“So?” He mumbled, finally catching Teddy’s eyes. He held his gaze for a long time, before asking quietly, “Does that bother you?”

“No, of course not,” Teddy said honestly, shaking his head. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because…”

“Come on, Mort, you know me better than that. So what, you kissed Gordy. Was he any good?”

“I dunno, I guess.” Mort shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. Teddy nodded, unsure what to say now. He wanted to ask when, how it happened…why. Had Mort started it or did Bosco? Was Mort…like that or was he just messing around.

He couldn’t help his curiosity, though he didn’t want to offend Mort. Touching a hand to Mort’s arm, he flashed Mort a small grin. ��You kissed more boys than me.”

“What?” Mort said incredulously, leaning away from Teddy. “What is wrong with you?”

Teddy could tell he was holding back a grin and he chuckled, “It’s true! I’ve never kissed any boys. And you’ve kissed one…I mean, just one, right?”

“Uh…” Mort blushed and Teddy’s eyes went wide.

“You’re holding out on me, Mort! Guess I really did pick the right guy for kissing practice.”

#weeks months who knows #when I say ‘a few weeks ago’ or ‘the other day’ there’s really no telling how long ago that was #but anyway yes this has been so fun to write!#thanks for asking about it!!#caboose writes wip #caboose writes #tedmort #bob's burgers #this really needs another readthrough and some edits though gahhh dont look too close it’s not ready yet!#long post #because I don’t know how to keep things concise sorry!

5 notes · View notes

ryan1014n2 · 2 years

Note

Do you have any other ships besides Rusty x Duncan, and would you care explaining some of them if you're comfortable. :>

Oh boy, ships! Yeah there's uhhh quite a lot of others that I enjoy. I'll list some of them out, but I don't think there's much explanation to be found honestly 😅 (excluding the two I have written little essays for)

(Haphazard bullet point list below cut)

Thomas x Ryan!!! Have you seen Sodor's Legend of the Lost Treasure??? I don't talk about it a lot because I'm living that Skarloey life but I love them!!!

I've given some thought towards Thomas x Luke because they have the sweetest little friendship in Blue Mountain Mystery. That movie just makes my heart melt.

I can see Thomas x Percy but it depends on my mood honestly.

I'm a Luke x Millie enjoyer! Tiny bf and gf. The Switch is a good episode. I don't know why I like this pair only that I very much do. Oh and they seem so excited to see each other at the start of Runaway Engine too! They're just very cute.

Stephen x Glynn. I don't know how to explain this other than to say just watch them interact with each other. How could I not ship them?

Toby x Henrietta since it's like, practically canon already? No super strong feelings on them, it just makes sense.

I've seen Peter Sam x Rusty mentioned a couple of times and while I probably never would've considered it myself, I think they're nice together. 💖

Okay. Uh. Skarloey x Culdee. I forget when I first considered this (I just checked and it was January apparently) or even why, but I wrote a little personal essay that is not at all compatible with canon (I wrote it before I read Mountian Engines) but I was quite entertained by the idea? Essentially how it went was that they met when they were both in for repairs at the same time. "While they’re in for repairs, they get to chatting and are soon good friends. When Skarloey is back on his home railway, he ends up talking endlessly to Rheneas about Culdee. It’s Rheneas who puts the idea in his head that he’s in love (it goes exactly like this)." He receives a "brutal bout of teasing" from Rheneas. (Also, while not exactly relevant, I NEED to share this paragraph because it delighted me to re-read: "Rheneas, in his hubris, repeatedly said things along the lines of “you’ll never see me falling in love,” and indeed to this day he hasn’t. Skarloey remembers this very well and is ready to turn his words back on him if the day should ever come.") Pretty much how this ends is just with Skarloey being a complete mess when it comes to Feelings and kinda dreading the day they interact one-on-one again.

*sighs and buries my head in my hands* next on the list is Rheneas x Culdee. LISTEN. Some of us have favorite characters and would like them to fall in love with other characters, okay? This post is what did it for me for this ship and you know what? I wrote a thing for this too. Let me pull it out of the archives real quick. "I think that Rheneas and Culdee having a little letter correspondence through their crews (which at first felt a bit odd, but now the crews find it very sweet and like to help them write the letters) is quite nice. Rheneas would like to meet Cathrine because of how highly Culdee speaks of her (he loves his coach of course ❤). She sometimes writes, but finds the thing a bit silly. She loves how fond Culdee is of his little pen pal though."

Oh yeah and Culdee x Cathrine for the same reasons as Toby x Henrietta.

Also Harvey x Daisy. Because dangit I really like A Most Singular Engine (even though I admittedly don't actually know that much about Harvey 😅).

I like the idea of Thomas x Ashima and I don't know how controversial that is (if at all)? He acts like he's got a crush on her in some parts if The Great Race and I find that very entertaining.

I'm almost certainly leaving some out but I think this post is long enough as is. Most ships I'm just kind of indifferent on? I'll see stuff like Percy x Harold, Edward x Henry, and James x Gordon and such and just go "yeah sounds great you guys have fun and keep doing what you're doing 👍."

There's also the fact that there's honestly quite a bit of the show that I don't remember seeing (and need to get around to) so some haven't even occurred to me because I haven't really met the characters yet.

#you can see this spiral further as I remember ships that I don’t usually think about #there's no WAY I'm tagging all of these characters #tysm for the ask!!#ask #ttte shipping #ttte #my post

17 notes · View notes

heroesriseandfall · 1 year

Text

Okay so. Writing update, I did end up committing all the way to NaNoWriMo this year, but the breakdown of my miscellaneous mostly Batfam writing project is hilarious to me, so if you are interested in what my DC writing looked like in November, I did silly math.

The 50,500 words for my project this year was basically whatever writing of my own that I did in November and that I considered enough effort/part of a dedicated something (so not, like, text messages or whatever random thing) to “count” for the project. Most of it was various DC fanfics or casual comics analysis.

Out of the 50k words written for the goal (non-bolded percents are sections included within the percent group right before them):

52% was for my still in progress “miles apart” long fic (basically a canon divergent “what if a lonely place of dying but earlier and no Jason death and lots of early batbros + NTT and also stuff that I want to see more of from that era” fanfic)

But only 37% of my writing was the actual fanfic content.

15% was just me plotting that fanfic (canon divergent long fics take so much to plan ok) and also my in-text notes

Those notes include me wondering/asking future me editing questions such as “check Who’s Who on DCUI to see how tall Victor Stone is compared to Kory” (6’6” vs. 6’4” btw) and “should Gar really be sitting on people as an elephant, how much restraint does he need to have to not kill people??” (maybe he shouldn’t sit on non-invulnerable assassins when he weighs 2-7 tons?) and also “does Dick have a car in NTTv2?” (…I think so??? I would assume? but he seems to take a lot of taxis/fly with Kory instead??)

29% was just me rambling/writing analysis about some of the Batkids. Unsurprising but amusing that I was just rambling about them for 15k.

As part of that rambling, 13% was me figuring out a post-Crisis age timeline for Babs based on comics. Fun and necessary but sometimes agonizing because I have to cite comics I do not like...

More rambling, 10% was me analyzing comics for what pre-Robin Tim’s Batfam obsession looked like based on post-Crisis. It’s relevant to my fanfic, okay!

8% was another (TimBern) fanfic I started because I got stuck on a plot point in the long fic and needed something less plot-heavy.

4% another (WIP) fanfic mostly about Tim & Bruce. unfinished. idk where it is going.

3% writing for college assignments. RIP finals.

2% potentially finishing up a one shot about pre-Robin Jason that I don’t know what to do with (it doesn’t feel done...).

1% possibly finishing the draft of another Dick & Tim fanfic (an angst-heavy Red Robin-era canon divergence).

1% starting a Robin Jason & Dick fanfic that I’m also not sure where to go with (pls I just want them to be cute first brothers).

I must also note that during all of this I was going slightly nuts not having any current projects to write about the women in the Batfam...downside of setting my current main fic smackdab in one of the least gender-diverse era of Batfam (in between Babs retiring Batgirl & becoming Oracle, no less!). Which is how I ended up writing 6.5k of Barbara Gordon timeline. I only lasted that long because I had Donna & Kory for the New Titans parts <3 (I need to add more of them I have another short scene planned)

Anyway. I just found it fun to look at how much I wrote of what in this jumble of a project. I have done NaNoWriMo previously but it had been a while since I really committed to it, so it was fun to actually write this much again. Even if I, uh, probably neglected some schoolwork for it. oops?

None of these fanfics are ready to be posted btw, they are a mess, but progress is progress, and if I do some editing in December, maybe a few will be :)

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2022 #my fanfics #batfam #heroesriseandfall #ID in alt text #fanfic #my writing #nano 2022 #fic: miles apart #fic: i will (not) always catch you #fic: rusted #dc

3 notes · View notes

castle-dominion · 1 year

Text

c3x20 a slice of death

I love this episode already. I've worked in family owned diners with rivalries, I love stories about italian new yorkers & I've definitely seen goncharov (tho that also had russian mafia).

Poor alexis, that is humiliating! This is so sad! Who has a live band playing? She's 17 cool. She was 15 in s1e1 & she's 17 near the end of s3. Cool

I love all the nicks & their names this is the life. It reminds me of that steven universe episode with the fry shop & pizza shop.

Not super funny, either of you. Nick Jr. Uh, authentic, not terrific. I love the new york pizza scene & how everyone knows who is whom but it's so confusing & I loved this episode so much when I first watched it

Oh but I kept her number! I don't think there's going to be a second date. So new york. So italian. This Is The Best Episode Ever. Exactly! Who wrote this episode??? It is amazing!

Maybe they did get it from a medical school, you don't know beckett!

They used the same audio already. I mean it's not a big deal.

Costumes: Rick: brown coat (gasp browncoat?) & violet/blue shirt Ryan: tbh he looks like he did in s1 a bit. idk why. So what looks like an aviator jacket, nice dark brown, leather looking, has the fuzz in the hood/collar, no lapels, dark brown tie, actually a good brown, & a plaid-type dress shirt (purple, maybe another shade of purple idk, probs black & white in there too, maybe grey & blue & pink... idk I'm not good with this... I think it's brown actually) Espt: Leather jacket & normal collared shirt underneath. It's like, safari style almost. Collared so it is fancy enough for work, but the put-together of the blocks is odd. Beckett: Detective coat. (double breasted light grey trench coat looking thing)

Castle: We should talk to the other Nicks. Ryan: He's right. Pizza is serious business in this town. (Remember that mafia family who used the pizza shop as a front but then became legitimate bc the pizza was so good?) Beckett: Ok you can talk to them. Ryan: wait; Me? no; why? (why is he upset at this...? I'm also rly sad castle didn't go with him)

Pottery kiln? Like Joy from the The Cat Who series! She made red ceramics & when I say she MADE red ceramics...

RM: I heard you found a body in the oven at terrific nick's KB: Authentic nick's RM: OH THANK GOD, the wife loves terrific nick's lmao full bodied flavour (btw yes I do indeed love his jacket)

Castle that's a heck of a leap & the audio reflecting the mood XD Gordon BURNS??? b'y the pic would have also been melted.

Oh. Poor man. Hugs to him. Oh not the pizza wars XD.

Terrific, authentic, & otherwise.

Sounds like u'r talking from experience espt. Did you survive firefights with gangbangers & then got killed doing a speeding ticket? & then came back to life to join homicide so u could investigat ur own death?

Nice handkerchief, murdoch vibes. KB: U ok? RC: Yeah no yeah... I wonder if he ever did that with alexis, had her colouring while he was signing books. Espt had that much information thrown at him in that short amount of time he was gone? Poor ryan, exiled to work talking to all the other nicks, & then exiled again to work computer stuff Wrong nick bro XD I thought he meant nick jr.

Hold the extra cheese wasn't funny.

Oh def steal the oven. Ah yes italian new york mobster money laundering in a pizza place? So the captions are willing to put nada in the captions here but put "speaking spanish" last episode when esposito said it? Seriously? Seriously?? You couldn't write "nada"? Like at this point it's a loanword & everyone knows what it means, but even so you should still write down everything that is said. Not translated, not "speaking [language]" but the actual words.

Like how he says "luds" for L.U.D.s I love his fake little accent he does "i'll kill ye"

True. You can't threaten to kill someone, it is not covered in free speech. It's the fat isn't it.

You can find out where things are from a phone call on a cell? That's sus af.

Tips the concierge even tho u'r not really here. Love it. Rick speedreading moments. Who would write nicely like that & then spend an entire page of notebook on two lines of writing? RC: *sees a cool new app* KB: no RC: Fine but you don't get to play my angry birds! Ok that was the funny one, the only funny one. I wonder if they had pizza!

Still do! (he's literally an author)

So WHEN were u in a relationship? fate <3 (except he withheld the information abt the story he was working on for a reason, if you've seen it before like me u can see why.)

Ryan with the financials! How big are new york blocks?

Woah a nice transition! Cool!

Nice heck yeah party crasher!

Woah language but martha is right. She's totally allowed to swear in this situation. It's like the kitchen. No swears at my catholic school unless you were working an event with the culinary program & physically in the kitchen. RC: Bitch! *realizes what he said & covers mouth*

Aw cyberbullying...

RC: Where's beckett? KR: Uh, Hall of Records. Tracking down what Burns was looking for. (Pink shirt : ) & also a vest, he looks pretty) RC: Great. *hands Beckett's coffee to Ryan* (we know time that ryan & esposito stole castle & beckett's coffee & then switched after one sip that ryan like beckett flavoured coffee & espt likes castle flavoured coffee) RC: Listen, if I gave you a website, could you have your friends at Tech hack into it and take some pictures down? (bribing ryan & not his friends at tech?) KR, taking the paper from castle with a little smile: Did someone find naked pictures of you again? (HOLD ON WHAT? & HAS RICK ASKED RYAN TO DO THIS BEFORE?) KR: *unfolds paper with a lighthearted little smile at castle's antics* RC: No. Not me. It's Alexis. KR: *stops* KR: *thinking someone posted castle's daughter's nudes & now castle is asking him to take them down* KR: *looks up at him with fear in his eyes* (also bc she is 17 her pics would technically be CP & this would be a bigger issue so maybe that's what ryan was thinking. He was thinking they needed to take this to Vice or smth.) RC: This is for Alexis KR: *eyes searching* KR: Uh, this just got awkward. What's this about? (his voice suddenly got hella squeaky) RC: Okay. Mean girl at school kiss ambushed Alexis's boyfriend (ryan nods & makes faces in sympathetic outrage) then posted the photographic proof on her website. Alexis is very upset. KR: Mmm. I-- I could have my friend Tony take care of it. You know, off the record. (Love a good "tony") RC: Thanks. And, uh, no need to mention this to Beckett. You know how she gets with these things (Castle and Ryan smile & start to laugh & go to sip their coffees. Beckett appears and grabs her cup from Ryan.) KB: Things like abusing police resources for your own personal agenda? RC: Whaat? That's ridi-- No, you don-- No. That's-- that's--- (Castle gives Ryan the OK sign as he follows Beckett to her desk. Ryan slips the slip of paper into his vest meaning he's still willing to help out rick & his daughter even w/o the coffee bribery) Yes yes yes castle yes ryan this is an abuse of power but that is so valid & I think it's funny & great & I love it Ryan, trying to act casual after this little thing: Yep?

Espt has a denim-looking dress shirt on what & then beckett has a nice green scarf & longsleeve

Yo the guy's alive??

Ooh I love a good noire film but why say noowahr instead of nwar. RC: I haven't heard the story... Oh... that sucks.. he couldn't even crawl over to hold her. That's got to be traumatic.

Neat, learning abt history. Cool. So Ryan was in narcotics back in '03, he went into homicide in '06 maybe, & then three years later (I might be mixing this up with Ike Thornton's (fake) death tho) as mentioned in I think that very episode, castle shows up: '09. 03 narco, 09 castle shows up & there is a mention of "three years ago" so, 06 ike dies ryan goes into homicide. idk I'm just trying to get a timeline. Anyway, I always love it when they bring back character's pasts before we knew them. & during this Ryan is also fidgeting with his file, point for the adhd ryan headcanon.

Castle never specified HOW to flip it so he could follow the movements. Glad he said to slow it down tho. Is the man left handed?

Alexis got into a fight? Good for her. Oh no castle & ryan & tony got alexis in trouble : ( but also XD Heck yeah girl! Tho yeah rick you're right violence is not the answer "& then one of you ends up dead in a pizza oven" & then he quotes beckett & hugs her. RC: Did u kick her ass? AC: I kind of did RC: Good girl. Good. Even when he tells her retaliation is not the way, he still lets her know.

Bro teenagers ARE criminal masterminds. High school bullies are NOT some dumb-as-bricks doorknob who beats you & but can't chew gum & walk at the same time, they really can be evil geniuses.

Costumes: Castle & beckett are normal, tho I don't like beckett's shirt. Esposito is wearing a boring not-fancy long-sleeve with jeans & ryan is wearing a typical dark blue dress shirt & dress pants, no tie this time, nice grey coat. Really fancy coat too. I like it.

How can you tell someone dialed the numbers for a call but never hit send...? Unless it was already on the phone & they didn't get erased for some reason. Mine closes every time I switch apps.

Esposito, breakin down the doors! Music is great rn! The boys just run out the window

Oh so she IS in with the drug dealers.

She's good. She's really good. I'm speaking from the perspective of having seen this before. It's obvious that he CANNOT be cavallo pretending to be his own right-hand-one. Poor R+E, out of breath from the chase So she DID know those names when castle asked her the first time!

OH MY GOODNESS HOLY CRAP THAT'S A LOT OF FIGHTING & POOR RYAN IN THE MIDDLE TRYING TO GET THEM TO STOP

Castle u really just went back on what u & beckett put ur money on? Whose tab? Whose tab did they put it on? What? Winner winner pizza dinner & wow that's a lot of smack.

He's a pizza man! He would never disrespect his oven like that! It is SO not his speed castle! Oh so you wanted to burn down authentic nick's? Girl if you can call him then that's helping!

See like this is what got my eyes on ryan in the first place, his movements are so weird, like he's walking too big for his body. Oh & again unassuming middleman is dumb

Is she limping? why is she in homicide? I thought she was in narco. also I can't use my question mark button on tumblr anymore for some reason & so it reloaded the page & got rid of a mini fanfictioin I wrote & I am fucking upset. I had added some notes to my liveblog. What the hell tumblr^/ why won't you let me use a proper question mark^/ at least my french é&É still work. Ηοwever, my greek keyboard does not.

Ok sweetheart, just Don't Use Easy-to-Catch Names Calls ryan & esposito the best detectives. Ooh une femme fatale

Love the music & oh no please don't be nick's pizza Oh thank goodness it's stephano's So mature of Alexis OH THAT IS A GOOD LOOKING PIZZA

& it seems like all the bonus features are deleted scenes which I have seen. Yuck tho I don't need to see this.

#castle 3x20 #castle 3x20 spoilers #castle 3x20 quote #the pizza episode

0 notes

testingcheatsenabletrue · 4 years

Text

My One, My Only, My Guardian... [pt.1]

[pt.2]

------------------

The wind whistled as it blew through the crumbling remains of the abandoned Golden Age town. Debris drifted across the ground, rattling faintly until it tumbled into a piece of rubble and stopped. What a sorry place to return to. I’ve been searching across the solar system for my Risen, I’ve checked every place I could and then checked again, again, and again, but I haven’t found them anywhere. This place? I’d been here so many times. Hundreds, thousands of times.

My first instinct is to say this is perhaps the 8th time I’ve been here, but in reality, it’s been so much more than that. Like. So much more. One thing was for certain, though: this time was probably the last, if the distant rumbles of Fallen salvage ships were anything to go by. Traveling alone and defenseless was never the safest bet, but it’s the only one I’ve been able to make for a while now.

I used to be in a little group of Ghosts, a pack if you will. Right off the bat, the lot of us decided safety in numbers was just about the only safety we’d get in our quest for our Risen. The first five of us to leave our pack found their Risen shortly after we started. Since then, we’ve gradually shed members while traveling. Out of the original twenty or so, eight had found their Risen, three were killed, and all the rest have given up.

All the rest, except for me. And I’ll be honest: if I don’t find my Risen here and now... I’m probably going to join them, one way or another.

Speaking of this place… I don’t know why I keep coming back here. It was the first place I tried looking. It has some sort of… feeling, within the earth itself, that I can’t describe. I can’t shake the sense that my other half is here, somewhere in the city.

I’ve often wondered what they would be like. I hoped that they’d be like Saint-14, or Cayde-6. Strong, funny, good-hearted. I sure hope they’re an exo. Then we’d have something in common, and I wouldn’t have to worry about healing them from environmental damage. I hear that’s really hard to deal with.

I always imagined them being a protector, a Titan, someone who put themselves before others. A gentle titan.. who gives really warm hugs. Or a cool hunter, with really warm coats! Just. Warm. And kind, soft. Someone who’d be nice to be held by.

I pass by a scraggly old tree that seemed to wave to me on my way to the abandoned construction site, giving me pause. I liked that tree. I named it something funny a couple hundred years ago. Like… Paul, or something. Paul sounds about right. Oh, I remember when Paul was just a little sapling – I thought it was a flower, at first. So small.

“Hi Paul.”

I continued on, unsteady from the wind, scanning rubble as I went. I circled the construction site. Once. Twice. Three times. Four.

I was forced to stop and hide as a Fallen ship roared overhead. I hid under a clump of weeds, close to the ground in hopes I wouldn’t be detected. I’ll admit… I panicked a bit and dug myself a ways into the finer bits of rubble. It was habit! Usually I’m not lucky enough to be stuck in a place with weeds. And I watched this crab.. thing… hide by burying itself in sand, so of course I do that now.

Wouldn’t have to if I had a Risen…

Oh, I really hope I can find mine. We’ll be two peas in a pod, my Risen and I, and I’ll never have to be scared and alone ever again…

I’ll be scared and with a friend, instead.

Or… different than a friend. I wouldn’t say more, but something other than a friend. Nothing more, nothing less, just… different.

We can travel the world together. Heck, the solar system. We’ll see beautiful things together… sunsets, oceans, ancient forests, glaciers. On this planet, or others. I always wanted to show my Risen all the pretty places I’ve been. I’ll pick my Risen flowers! Don’t know how, what with… not having hands… but I’ll find a way. For my Risen! And they’ll keep me safe and warm and hold me close…

I snuck a peak outside my hiding spot, shimmying across the ground slightly to get a better view of the sky. I sure didn’t hear any Fallen ships anymore, but you can never be too sure. Something felt funny. Like the ‘its-just-around-the-corner’ kind of funny. Except that corner was… the… the pile of gravel I’m currently hiding on. What? Another peak around and I was up in the air, squinting at the pile of rubble. I have it a closer look.

What I assumed was just another hill of rubble seemed to closer resemble a remarkably large pile of gravel that, over the years, was compacted into more solidified chunks. Grass was trying to grow over it, but it seemed like it was too dense for anything other than the roughest of weeds to deal with. It also seemed to have a lot of erosion going on… I could have sworn this pile was taller last time I was here. But I also thought it was rubble for… my whole life, really, so I could be wrong.

I gave the pile a quick scan.

Yep. Signs of erosion, rainfall. And…

I’m sorry, is that a body? Under this pile of gravel? But it’s huge! Like a small hill. How could a body be-

You know what, I’ve seen weirder places for a body to be.

I gave the spot another scan, this time trying to isolate the body. I could barely keep still. I always get like this during a candidate scan, but this time, in the place I always had a hunch about? This was beyond exciting.

Female. Exo… exo! Oh, please let this be my risen, please let this be my risen…

Frantically, I looked around. There has to be some way I can recover the body, get a better scan result. Wait, I was in a construction yard! I could use one of those, uhm, big dig machines. I’m not sure what they called them in the Golden Age. I dubbed them scoopers. ‘Cause.. they can scoop… things, I guess? That seems like it was their intended purpose, with the big bucket ends. The air buzzed as I zipped over to the nearest scooper. I could get one of these running. Easy peasy, even if they were old, rusted, hadn’t been used since the collapse…

If I could keep myself steady.

Just… flip a switch here, wrestle with some old engines there, give it a spiritual kick, and…

Well. Not this one.

I went over to another one, did the same. Not that one.

Third one, same attempt. It sputtered to life. It jittered and stopped, coughing at any chance it could, but it probably would do the trick.

I was so excited. This was it. This was my Risen. It had to be! I always knew she was here, I just knew it, I knew it! Screw you, that one really mean Ghost who said I would never find my Risen! Look who’s laughing now! Not you! What was your name? Barold? Bensen? Bob?

No, wait, it doesn’t matter. You gave up! I didn’t! And look who’s found their Risen. Me! Ghost!

I need to get a name sometime. My Risen can give it to me! Oh, I hope it’s really cute.. or cool. I can be cool. Yeah, I need a cool name. Like Jack. Or- or- Fin… bar.

I’m not good with names.

Oh, wait, my Risen, right!

I halted the scooper and peaked to the pile. It was very compact, but it wasn’t like it was cemented together. I just needed to be gentle, so I don’t hurt my Risen. Not that she can feel it, she’s kindof. Really dead. But still! First impressions. Not sure if she’ll remember this when I wake her up. I carefully started to nudge the gravel hill, testing the surface before I began digging into it. The old machinery struggled, but it was a good sport about it.

Digging took a lot longer than I expected, though mostly due to the scooper. Poor thing was old and tired. It’d been years since it last worked like this. Eventually, I uncovered my Risen. I used the machine to pick her up by the torso, move her out to the open where it would be easier to wake her up, and set her down. Carefully. Gently. Be nice! She’d do the same for me, if the situation were flipped.

Surely…

I rested the scooper’s arm down on the ground and turned it off.

“There you go, buddy. Sleep well. Thank you.”

I flew towards my Risen, my path more a wobbly spring than a straight line. I was so excited; I can’t contain it. This was it. I could feel it. She was the one! My one. My only. My Risen.

Another scan.

Female. Exo. Not sure what she used to be, her clothes didn’t match what I expected a Golden Age construction worker to have. It was a suit, of sorts, and thick jacket. Very official. Almost a military style.

But the Golden Age was a time of peace…

Whatever. They were remarkably well preserved, but even then, they were worn and dull. They were also not well situated, giving her an almost disheveled look despite the formality of the actual clothes themselves. I couldn’t tell if that was from the scooper or not.

She was a bit rusted, with excessive damage to her face. It was nearly completely caved in.

Is.. is she recoverable? Please…

My shell shuttered. She was. She just was. I could feel it. She was the one, my one, I could do this…

What would I say… what will I say? I’ve been searching so long, you’d think I’d have thought of this by now, but… all I’ve ever thought of is the life I would have with my Risen, not how it would start.

Vast oversight, Ghost.

Well. What was she like? What will she be like when I wake her?

Another scan!

Female. Exo. She’s very sound, cognitively. No corruption, mutation of any kind. Not like those on the moon. Certain. Convicted. Dedicated. Stubborn, maybe? Last few memories don’t sit well with me, though. The emotions… anger, fear, the kind of fear that makes you sick, sadness, loneliness, fear again… then cold. That’s the last thing. Fear and cold.

But she’s the one. She’s my Risen.

She won’t be lonely with me around.

I shivered again. This was it. This was it.

It all happened in what felt like a single second. I saw the spark, burning bright as the sun. It had a grandness to it, like an explosion that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, despite its danger. Its intrigue, its glory, the terrifying awe and dreadful, humbling drum of your core as the shockwave hit you head-on. The Light came pouring down like rainfall, coalescing into a beam that was as instant and deafening as a thunderclap on a sunny day.

In a moment, it was there, and in a moment, it had gone.

I did it. She was here.

My Risen laid on the ground in front of me, looking to the sky with tired eyes, blinking slowly. I hovered above her, placing myself front and center.

“Eyes up, Guardian,” I breathed.

The seconds crawled by like hours as she gazed up at me, her expression not giving a thing away. What would she say? How did she feel? I couldn’t wait to hear-

“Five more minutes.”

She rolled over and went to sleep.

…

Well, that was anticlimactic.

#Alix #so uh i wrote when he found Gordon #theres more #enjoy #destiny #destiny ghost #writing #long post

10 notes · View notes

lucidtobio · 3 years

Text

caramel brownies !

in which baking brownies with semi doesn't go as planned, but the journey is fun nevertheless.

[ fluff , crack? , ooc semi , gn!reader ]

it was almost friday date night. the long awaited end to every work week that you and semi spent together. every other week, you would switch between who picked the activity for the night. the routine moved as smoothly as clockwork, the evening never being filled with the same affair.

this time around, it was your turn to decide what you were going to do. the wednesday before, you two were studying in the campus library when semi inquired on your plans for the night.

"we're going to be baking brownies!" you informed him with a smile. eita raised an eyebrow with a smile dancing on his lips.

"oh really? how can you be sure that they're actually going to turn out,, edible?" the ash-haired boy teased. you smacked his arm playfully in mock offense. "hey, i'm not the only one making them, eita."

the following friday after school, you found yourself at the grocery store with semi. a piece of paper with ingredients scribbled on it was clutched in your hand while semi manuevered the shopping cart.

moving down each aisle in turn, the shopping cart filled up with various boxes and bags of ingredients. semi was skeptical of how many things you actually needed to buy, but you silenced him with a “who’s the real gordon ramsay here, hm?” the bill was a little ridiculous but it was worth it not really.

you two arrived back at the dorms with multiple bags in hand. after taking each item out of its plastic compartment, you handed semi an apron.

“what’s this for?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. you just blinked at the boy, slowly saying, “to not get your clothes dirty?”

semi questioned how messy this would get, but kept his mouth shut anyways. you wore matching sanrio aprons; yours had melody on the front while eita’s had kuromi.

clearing a space on the small counter provided by the school, you and semi stood side by side with ingredients splayed out neatly. pulling the recipe up for the caramel brownies on your phone, semi fiddled with the blue whisk you had.

while you were skimming the steps, semi stuck his finger in between the prongs of the whisk. imagine his shock when the metal clasps around his appendage, rendering his finger stuck.

“uh, (y/n)?” “what’s up?” “i’m kinda stuck.”

long story short, you had to force his finger out from the whisk. it wasn’t made any easier by semi refusing to help you, worried about hurting you. placing a tender kiss across his knuckle (to make it better of course), you turned your attention back to the task at hand.

“okay. time to start the brownies for real this time.” you sighed, sending a joking glare semi’s way. the ash-blonde simply raised his hands in weak defense.

semi was assigned to combine the dry ingredients while you mixed the wet ones together.

cocoa powder and flour sifted into each other along with sugar, salt, and chocolate chips. eggs and vanilla whipped together and poured evenly into the dry mixture.

while it sounds all fine and dandy, we’ll leave out the part where you cracked the egg too hard and it exploded all over the counter. or the part where semi stirred too aggressively, causing the contents of his bowl to puff into his face.

“you look like a ghost, semi semi.” “shut up, egg destroyer.”

with the base batter completed, you poured half of it into the baking pan. the next step was to melt the caramels. using a small countertop burner, you poured the bag of caramels into the pot. cranking up the heat, you stood and waited patiently for the caramels to soften.

semi had just finished wiping the last of the dry ingredients off of his face as you were waiting for the candies. the setter moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. the position allowed his hot breaths to directly hit the skin of your neck.

“i’m glad ‘m here with you,” eita murmured, pressing a soft kiss at the base of your throat. a smile found its way to your face at his words. your hand reached up to thread your fingers between his locks of silky hair.

while you two were wrapped up in your own little world, the caramels were burning to the bottom of the pan. you only noticed this when a charred scent entered your nose.

“shit!” you cursed, quickly beginning the stir the sticky substance. semi suppressed laughter as if it wasn’t partly his fault. luckily, you were able to pick out the most burnt pieces and salvage the rest of it.

carefully pouring the melted caramel over the first layer of brownie batter, semi poked the tip of his tongue out in concentration. your heart warmed at his focused expression. after the caramel layer, you added the rest of the brownie batter on top.

“let’s hope we don’t drop this on the way to the oven,” you sighed as you picked up the unbaked brownies.

you did.

swiftly moving down the dormitory hallway, semi walked beside you with his eyes trained on the pan. your mind was a bit preoccupied by the scent of his cologne, leaving you a bit vulnerable.

by vulnerable, i mean clumsy. exhibit a: tripping over air and spilling brownie batter and hot caramel onto the floor.

a strangled cry left your lips as semi attempted to catch the pan. no such luck. kneeling in front of the spilled batter, you hit your fist against the floor.

semi let out choked laughter as he tried to keep it in for your sake. but your dramatic reaction had tears springing to his eyes.

when you made no move to stand up, semi slung you over his shoulder and brought you back to his dorm. paper towels and wet wipes were the only cleaning supplies on hand, so you would have to make do.

after cleaning up the mess, you sat on eita’s bed with a huff. “so now what,” you sighed. the loss of your beloved brownie fetus pained your heart.

“we could go buy brownies?”

“good idea.”

a/n: i’m so sorry i wrote most of this at 2am

⤿ written 4.8.2021

⤿ masterlist

#mars' works 🍃#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drafts #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #semi headcanons #semi fluff #semi scenarios #semi imagines

42 notes · View notes

redhoodieone · 4 years

Text

Wrong Number Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2! Uh…I don’t really know what to say other than…enjoy it! Hopefully, I can post Part 3 sometime next week.

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, Text Message Nudes, and Mutual Masturbation.

I’m in complete shock. I know I’m frozen because I can’t literally take my eyes off the text message Jason sent to me. It’s clear; it’s in black and white, staring right at me.

Do you ever think we’ll meet each other?

He wants to meet me. Jason wants to meet me in person!

I want to text him back, but my mind is full of many ridiculous questions and the fears of Jason being a serial killer, or rapist, or just an insane Arkham escapee blows up in my head.

Before I knew it, I see the three bubbles on my screen.

I’m sorry. That was selfish of me to ask you that even though we’re still practically strangers to each other. Forget I asked, please?

My heart suddenly hurts like fuck. The pain I’m instantly feeling is very familiar. A broken heart?

It’s pure agony when I notice Jason texting me again.

I’m not going to be able to text tonight, sweetheart. I’m working late with my brothers. I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams.

I can’t believe I did this. How could I do this to a guy who’s been so funny, so sweet, and such a good friend in only just four days through text messages?

I seriously fucked up. And now I have no one to talk to until I fall asleep.

And as strange as it is, I only sleep well after I talk to him.

————————————————————————------------------------------

And true to his word, Jason texts me at five in the morning, only to let me know he made it home safe after working with his brothers.

We only spoke about our jobs once. He told me he works alongside police officers and tracks down criminals and helps brings justice to the city. He seemed almost hesitant to tell me and turned the conversation to me as if he doesn’t like talking about work. He made it clear that he would rather keep his work private, and I didn’t push him to tell me more. I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions, even if I’m sometimes curious about it, because I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable about it.

I had told him I’m a waitress at the local diner just a block away from GCPD, and how I’m a late-night writer who dreams of publishing my novel on love and loss. And after I confessed about the book I wrote to Jason, I noticed he was very enthusiastic about that and even told me he wants to read it.

And as the shy and insecure person that I am, I became embarrassed and said no.

That only fueled the fire between us. Jason went on to explain he loves to read. His favorite literature consists of Shakespeare (particularly Hamlet), George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm, and even poetry from Edgar Allen Poe.

He even went into depth of how The Tell-Tale Heart mirrors his own reflection of life and stuck with him during a depressing time in his life.

It wasn’t until after we shared our love for literature that I found myself falling for Jason. As ridiculous and insane as that sounds, I couldn’t help but feel as if he’s the missing piece in my life.

It’s as if he’s the words to my story.

Important, but very valuable to a writer.

I was basically on a high that had me grinning like an idiot, giggling like a moron, and jumping in my seat as my stomach twists and turns like a roller coaster, when Jason refused to take no for an answer after I said he couldn’t read my novel. He even said his dad has connections to businesses in Gotham and could even help me get it published.

As much as I would want that, I couldn’t help but feel that it seems too good to be true. What if his dad took my novel and publish it as his own? What if I get cheated out of a contract and didn’t get paid fairly like I should? What if it’s basically a soul-sucking scam to just fuck my entire life up?

Jason must have sensed my hesitation after that, because he then began to tell me about his brothers.

How his older brother Dick still treats him like a kid, even though Jason is taller and stronger than him.

How his younger brother Tim is a computer nerd and often geeks out over the oddest things.

And how his youngest brother Damian is really a demon spawn, who tries to be tough shit, but is really a soft teddy bear.

He even has a sassy but wise butler, Alfred, who frightens him and sometimes reminds him of Vito Corleone from The Godfather. But the older man loves Jason as much as his dad, Bruce.

The stories about Jason’s family are the best. I always find myself excited to see what he texts me about his family.

How he and his brothers fight over their dad’s car, how they wrestle and spar to see who’s the strongest one, and how whenever one’s in trouble, the other three are already finding ways to save or bail the troubled one out.

It all makes me feel good to know they’re a close family. Especially when my cold, harsh reality reminds me I don’t have a family.

My parents died when I was just fifteen years old. I was in the school library alone during afterhours; reading on a beanbag chair because I didn’t want to go home. At that particular time, my parents were hanging around a different crowd. A crowd that was into drugs and gambling, and possibly other illegal activities I don’t even know about.

So, I chose to stay in the school library that night, sitting in my favorite beanbag chair the librarian allows me to use, reading a favorite horror book, munching away on a hot pocket (a snack also from the librarian), and just enjoy the silence but comfortable environment I would call home.

Then I was told they died in a car accident, but after eavesdropping on Commissioner Gordon and the other cops, I heard there could have been a hit on them.

The car accident happened only a block away from our apartment.

The brakes were cut.

The car was burning too much oil.

The airbags were taken out.

Many noticeable factors couldn’t pinpoint the real crime. Eventually, they just called it a “car accident”, and everything fishy about the case was ignored and never brought up again.

I suffered and struggled a lot in foster homes until I turned 18. I didn’t have any other family members to get into contact with, so I had to make do with the foster care system. After being shipped to three unstable and cruel homes, the last family only dealt with me until I turned 18 and I was soon kicked out. I did get lucky enough to get a job at the diner I’m working at since the new manager needed a pretty young girl to serve the customers.

I even went to Gotham Community College for a year but dropped out when I couldn’t pass any math and science classes.

It was fucking hard.

Science was confusing as hell.

Math was just evil and useless.

I hated those classes so much.

I only passed my English classes because reading and writing only made sense to me.

I even took a creative writing class and poetry class only to discover I want to write.

I want to be a writer.

So, I dropped out of college and decided to work full time at the diner as a waitress. Since no one wants to live and work in Gotham, I’m lucky enough to work morning and night without any issues. As dangerous and scary Gotham can be, I have nowhere else to go, so that’s why I stay here.

Maybe that’s why I’m eager to meet Jason. After everything I’ve been through, maybe I do need a little unpredictability.

Chances.

Risks.

The more I consider meeting Jason, the more I can imagine him being my family.

Or being a part of his.

Maybe.

————————————————————————--------------------------------

“You’re not going to meet him, right???” Stacey raises her voice at me in sheer annoyance and panic. She crosses her arms and glares at me to answer her. “Right, Y/N???”

I sigh as softly as I can while wiping down the booths and tables for the night. In the midst of a battle, I find myself growling with irritation when I can’t wipe away the sticky maple syrup spills on the hard surface.

“He could be a fat, old man who picks up on teenage girls! He’s probably some 40-year-old loser who still lives on his mom’s basement playing Street Fighter with kids! What if he tricks you into meeting up in a hotel room and has his way with you? Then what, Y/N?! Does that sound like a good idea to you?!” Stacey snaps.

I exhale deeply and stand up straight; after leaning over the table to reach the opposite side for some time. Turning around, I face Stacey Patterson, a tall, petite, pretty blonde, fresh face girl straight out of high school. She’s a waitress like me, and after only working here for a year, we’ve become close friends; always looking after each other in dangerous Gotham City.

“I didn’t say I was going to meet him, Stacey. We’re just talking about it,” I answer timidly.

Despite being five years older than Stacey, she still intimidates the hell out of me. Whether it’s her 5’11 height, loud voice, or natural evil glare, I can never speak up or defend myself. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t take a stand.

Because what if I actually piss her off? What if she stops being my friend?

Because I don’t think I could live in Gotham and not have any friends and not know anyone.

Stacey is like my best friend, and her friends Amber and Holly hang out in our group. Stacey even says they’re my friends, too, even though I clearly know they only put up with me because of her.

And if Amber and Holly aren’t my friends, then I’ll just have Stacey. And if I don’t have Stacey, I’ll only have Jason.

And who knows if Jason is who he says he is, and if he’s even real.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You’re totally thinking about Jason! You’re thinking about meeting up with him because I could see it in your eyes!” Stacey declares. She waves her arms around to emphasize her point. “You like this guy! You have feelings for a guy you’ve never even met!”

“That is not true,” I argue weakly.

“Yes, it is! And we don’t even know if it’s a guy!”

“Jason is a guy, and I can tell!”

“Oh, really? How? Do tell.”

I stare at Stacey with a serious expression, except my cheeks are burning with embarrassment as usual. “He...comes off like a guy. I know he is. I can tell through his text messages,” I say.

“Anybody can sound like anyone through text messages. That’s how people catfish victims online!” Stacey argues.

“I’m a writer, Stacey. I just...have a feeling, okay? I know Jason says who he is, and I believe him,” I say strongly, as I push a lose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m doing this the smart way, too. When he and I decide when we should meet up, I’ll let you know. Maybe we can make it a group thing. I bring a friend. He brings a friend.”

Stacey sighs in defeat when she realizes I’m not backing down. She glances up at me with a stern face. “Fine. When you two decide when you’re both going to meet up, I’ll be there. I’ll be there to make sure he’s not on America’s Most Wanted, and to make sure he doesn’t try to lure you to his mom’s basement. BUT...you have to go on a date. A REAL date with a guy we both know, AND who could be good for you,” she states loudly and clearly.

“But Stacey-”

“Hey! Only until this Jason guy comes to Gotham and we meet him! Until then, I want you to give this guy a chance. A fair chance! For me...please???” Stacey pleads. She pouts and gives me her puppy dog eyes, which she knows I always give in to.

I’m too nice. Mom always said I was too nice, and that one day it’ll get me in trouble.

I’m still wondering when that’ll happen.

“Okay, I’ll give this guy a chance. I swear I will,” I promise and salute her. “But who’s the guy?”

Stacey grins in success and hugs me tightly. “Good! Because you’re like my sister, Y/N, and I just want to see you happy. You deserve it,” she says softly. “And it’s Chace. Remember him? He’s the drummer from, WakeHell. He moved in right next door to me, and I know you two will hit it off right!”

Chace????

Oh yeah. I know him.

He’s a total bad boy. A bad boy I don’t even think I could deal with.

I force a smile but then frown, because the only guy in my life who makes me happy is Jason.

Who I only text.

Who I haven’t even met.

————————————————————————---------------------------------

The next day is a lazy day since it’s my day off. I spent the majority of it sleeping, doing laundry, and just doing minor cleaning around my apartment until it’s 9:00 P.M.

And Cruel Intentions is on TV.

Lying on the couch with my second glass of Vodka Cranberry, I find myself really buzzed and horny. Ryan Phillippe back then was hot, and him making out with Reese Witherspoon is doing things to me.

My phone bings. It’s Jason.

What are you up to tonight, sweetheart?

Just a night in, a cup of glasses of vodka and cranberry, and Cruel Intentions is on TV.

I barely realize I’m buzzed and texting Jason. But my horny side doesn’t care.

I sorry I’m buzzed right now lol.

LOL no worries. I just came back from the bar with my brothers. We had a successful night and decided to get some drinks. We even had Tim and Damian use fake I.D’s.

I laugh and snort. Thank God no one heard me do that.

That’s good...we wouldn’t want Tim and Damian to be left out. They’re your baby brothers, Jay.

Jay? I really like it when you call me that. And I especially like you buzzed. LOL.

I like me buzzed too! I think I’m way more fun and free!

LOL!!! Exactly, princess!

I smile down at my phone. I love it when he calls me princess.

You said you’re watching Cruel Intentions? I just found it on TV. Wow...this movie’s old LOL.

Shut up!!! I find young Ryan Phillppe sexy in this movie!

You seriously find him sexy??? The guy’s a whiny brat! A pussy! Fuck, this movie woulda been sexier if we actually saw the douchebag eat out Cecile and saw him fuck Annette AND Kathryn!

I gasp out loud and giggle.

Then it would have been a porno! Not a movie! Hahaha!!!!

That’s fine with me, princess!

I softly whimper at just the thought of Jason watching porn. Closing my eyes, I imagine how he would sound, touch himself, and look when he’s pleasuring himself.

My eyes shoot open when I hear Sebastian telling Cecile he wants to kiss her…down there. I quickly turn my attention to the TV and watch the movie. Even though he takes advantage of a clueless, drunk girl in the movie, just the thought of him eating her out makes me clench my thighs.

It’s been too long. WAY TOO LONG!

The last guy I was seeing didn’t like to eat me out; claimed it was disgusting and unnecessary to do before sex.

As if sucking his dick was glamorous AND fun!

My thoughts are interrupted when Jason texts me.

You’re quiet tonight…does this scene turn you on???

The laughing emojis he texts me should hurt my feelings since I can easily be embarrassed over sexual things but…he’s right.

I’m turned on with just the thought of getting eaten out.

I boldly text Jack back. Unashamed and VERY buzzed.

You have no idea. Just imagining him eating me out, writing the alphabet with his tongue, and making me have an explosion is making me wet my panties right now.

I laugh to myself just seeing that Jason read my text message and is responding fast. The texting bubbles have never looked so good.

You’re…you’re wet right now????

Yes. Soooo fucking wet.

A surge of drunken confidence hits me, and I quickly shove off my pajama shorts until they’re on the floor. In just my white tank top and pink panties, I bravely slip my fingers into my damp panties and rub the wetness against my sensitive clit.

And with my other hand, I raise my cell phone and snap a picture of fingers in my wet panties.

And I send the picture to Jason.

I bite my lip in anticipation when I see he read my text message and saw my picture. The texting bubbles do not appear on the screen. He’s not texting me back.

Frowning, I wonder if I freaked Jason out. Maybe I crossed the line. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Maybe I’m just not sexy.

Suddenly, my phone beeps. Unlocking my cell phone screen, I see two text messages AND a picture.

Oh, fuck sweetheart…that’s fucking sexy. You’re fucking sexy…

Jason sends me a picture of him wearing his boxer briefs, and his hand holding his hard, thick cock, showing me the outline and shape of his boner.

Delicious. I can feel my pussy clench just from imagining Jason fucking me with his cock.

Fuck doll...you’re doing this to me.

I whimper pathetically and can’t help but continue to rub my clit and respond back. I can see my juices staining my panties.

Are you touching yourself too?

Fuck yeah. Just seeing your fingers playing with your wet, pretty pussy got me hard. I’m jacking off to your picture.

Would you want me like I want you?

Fuck yes, sweetheart. I probably want you more than you want me.

I slip a finger inside my pussy and moan. My thumb runs fast hard circles on my clit, and I’m soon pushing in two fingers. I’m fucking myself crazy, but I imagine Jason is finger fucking me because my fingers wouldn’t get me off so fast.

And his fingers are thick. His hands are fucking huge!

I bite my bottom lip. “Fuck...I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I whisper to myself. I snap another picture of my fingers shoved in my pussy, and how I’ve gotten wetter. I send him the picture with the truth.

I need to cum so bad. I wish it was you touching me.

Yeah? What would you want me to do to you, doll?

Fuck that picture’s so hot.

I’d want you to finger me. Eat me out. Fuck me hard.

Jason sends me another picture of him stroking his cock but with his hand in his underwear. I can see a wet spot where his tip is; stained with his precum. I want a taste of it so badly.

Fuck I would baby. Your pussy looks so good enough to eat. I’d fucking eat you out until you can’t cum anymore. I bet you taste delicious.

Oh fuck…I’m so close. I want your cock so bad, Jay. You’re gonna make me cum…

Rub your clit harder baby. Fuck your pussy fast and hard with your fingers. Imagine they’re my fingers, baby. I’d fuck you so hard and deep.

I want to see your cum, okay? Take a picture of that pretty pussy and show me what I did to you.

I do what Jason says. Behind his words, I can feel his authority. Even though I can’t hear Jason’s voice, just reading his words makes me burst like fireworks. My thumb rubs my clit harder, and I crook my fingers just right until I push against my g-spot until I cum. My orgasm is intense, and I force myself to snap a picture of my soaked underwear and fingers. I sent it to him with a lazy smile.

My phone beeps. Jason sent me a picture of his thick, juicy, cum covering his abdominal muscles. I smile a little with pride.

Fuck that was hot, sweetheart. I needed that.

Me too. Now, I’m sleepy.

LOL, I’m tired too. Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.

Okay…goodnight Jay.

I roll over onto my side and shut off the TV. Pulling my UGG throw blanket over my body, I snuggle up to fall asleep. My phone beeps again. Opening one eye, I reach over to read the text message.

Goodnight doll. Sweet dreams.

#dc comics #batman #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x y/n smut #jason todd smut

185 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Two Birds with One Stone (Bit 6 and The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6

I finished it! Yay! Still @godsliltippy ‘s fault. I’m just happy to have this one off my plate because yesterday I wrote 2000 words of a new fic! I’m incurable, I have to say ::headdesk:: Like I have so many waiting to be finished ::wails::

But lookie! I finished one ::distracts all with this single finished fic waving it around with glee::

Many thank to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for all their support through this fic and of course to Tippy for sparking it in the first place with this glorious piece of art!

I can actually archive something cos it is finished! Yay!

I hope you enjoy it...cos it is finished! It’s a miracle!

-o-o-o-

“A combine harvester?!”

“Totally cool sounding, don’t you think? I’m adding it to my list.”

Virgil stared at his brother. “You have a list? Of what?”

“Dramatic stuff. Near misses. Things worth bragging about at the bar.”

Virgil blinked, fortunately with both eyes this time, since the swelling was starting to go down.

He was sitting up in bed, surrounded by flowers. Grandma had gone all out this time with two boys in the hospital. Fortunately, they wouldn’t be in much longer.

Alan had dragged in one of Virgil’s sketchbooks and to Virgil’s surprise, he had found the energy to draw for a little while, though his head wouldn’t take much.

And his head was more than one problem.

He was missing half his hair.

And he looked stupid.

Worse, there was a jagged slice in his scalp where apparently a piece of that combine harvester had made it through his helmet and nearly sliced him in half.

The thought was downright alarming and he shunted it to the back of his mind with not a little terror.

He would examine it later.

Later.

But the problem at the moment, apart from the bandages that conveniently hid the issue temporarily, he only had half a head of hair and it looked stupid.

He had to appreciate that Gordon hadn’t laughed. In fact, none of his brothers had laughed at him. He couldn’t fault them for that.

Though there was a sparkle in Gordon’s eye that foretold at least one comment in the future, even if it was fond and caring.

Besides…

He kept waking up to find Gordon sitting on the end of his bed.

It was done with nonchalance and a smile, but Virgil was beginning to suspect an underlying cause. Not that he couldn’t acknowledge that he was happy to see his little brother and sharing a room with him in hospital was actually a boon to the medical process, but honestly, Virgil was beginning to worry.

“Don’t you have a list?”

Of course, a fish without a pond tended to be a bored fish.

“No, not really.”

“You don’t count successful rescues?”

“John and Scott keep records. I don’t like to dwell.”

His little brother shrugged. “I get that.”

There was silence for a while and Virgil let himself settle back into his pillow. Dosing was a rare pleasure.

“So, you don’t take advantage of being a hero even a tiny bit?”

Virgil blinked and frowned. “What?”

Gordon rolled over holding his injured arm and settled so he could see Virgil clearly. “You know, leverage a little heroism to start a conversation? Get one up on the stiffs at parties?”

He stared at his brother. “Are you having trouble at Penny’s charity functions?”

“Nooo.”

Okay, that meant yes. “You should talk to her, Gords.” He shrugged. “Need a wingman? I could come with.” Though he had to admit, he could see where Gordon was coming from. Some of those attendees were definitely stiffs who had never lifted a finger to help anyone but themselves in their entire lives.

“I can handle it.”

Okay, Virgil was definitely filching an invite to the next one. Could even drag in Scott. Big bro would torch the social scene. He wasn’t a fan, but he could play...to every other man’s detriment.

Or Virgil could ask John. Having a genius brother in orbit who had a daughter who had been told off several times already for influencing the stock market was an advantage.

“Virgil, stop the plotting. It is fine. I’ve got this. I just flex a little muscle, mention a few scars and spin a few tales. Joe WallStreet, or whatever they call it in London, doesn’t stand a chance.”

He eyed his brother. The urge to step in was strong.

Gordon smirked. “It is fine. Besides, you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon with that hairstyle.”

It was an obvious subject change, but it still earned Gordon a blistering glare. “Shut up.”

A snort and Gordon capitulated. “Don’t worry, bro, it’s cool. Shave the other side, get yourself some tatts and no one will ever question you on a rescue ever again.” The second snort was almost a giggle.

If only he could reach Gordon, clap him up the head.

There must have been something in his expression because Gordon burst out laughing, rolling on the bed, holding his arm to his side.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you, my dear artist bro, are entertaining.”

“Shove it.”

But at least Gordon was smiling.

Virgil would take that any day.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was up and about long before Virgil and took to disappearing from time to time into the depths of the hospital, often with one brother or the other and on several occasions, with Penelope.

Virgil didn’t get out much. He still had headaches and occasional dizzy spells, a lead on from a massive concussion and was the reason why they were still in hospital. Virgil had no doubt Gordon could probably have gone home, but was hanging about just because Virgil couldn’t.

If it pinned Gordon under medical observation and not in the ocean after such a serious injury, Virgil wasn’t going to argue. But it was frustrating that he himself wasn’t very mobile and he was sick of staring at the ceiling tiles.

They always bugged him as his artistic brain always constructed designs out of them and they always lacked symmetry.

Grandma, Alan, John, Scott and even Kayo were regular visitors. The Tracy clan had parked themselves in a nearby hotel, no doubt fueling both news agencies and the local economy.

Virgil just wanted to go home.

And Scott was out of sorts.

Scott was always out of sorts when a member of the family was injured, but this was different. And it was bugging Virgil.

Between his own injuries and the inability to pin his brother down due to interruptions and the lack of alone time, whatever it was that was bugging Scott was festering.

Topeka hospital was a familiar place to all of them. It had been their local major hospital for much of their formative years and considering the tornado seasons and IR responses, a regular delivery point for rescuees. There was a rooftop garden that had been sat in on several occasions in the past and it was with some conniving that Virgil spoke to Kayo to arrange for a corner of it to be secured so Virgil could go and sit up there for a bit of fresh air and privacy with his big brother.

He had no doubt that Scott knew he was being railroaded, but the lack of protest just emphasised how troubled his big brother was.

The sounds of the city below were no longer familiar and Virgil found himself longing for the ocean and the quiet of Tracy Island. It was evening, the sun having just set and the sky was a welcome sight after being confined to ceiling tiles for a few days, but the stars were dim, hidden by light pollution and a touch of smog.

It made him even more homesick.

“You okay, Virg?”

Scott had pushed him up here in a hoverchair. Virgil still needed it due to the dizzy spells and it ticked him off to no end. “Just homesick.”

Hi brother sighed. “Won’t be long. A couple of days and I’ll take you down to the beach and you can lay on the sand and stare at the stars to your heart’s content.”

Virgil shot him a glare. “I’m not John.”

“But you miss the stars anyway.”

Virgil grumbled. “I’m just used to seeing them.” He waved at hand at the sky. “It’s not the same.”

“Uh huh.” Scott was smiling in that condescending big brother knows better way he was so good at.

“Shut up.”

Scott didn’t stop grinning, he just dragged the ‘chair backwards until it nestled beside a park bench and then sat himself down beside Virgil.

They sat in silence for a while and Virgil let the soundscape seep into him. It was quieter up here than inside the hospital. There was a breeze with the scent of farmland under that pervasive smell of the city and cooling concrete. The breeze spoke of a possible storm in the distance. Virgil hoped it wasn’t a supercell. He had had enough of tornadoes for some time.

He missed the scent of the sea.

A sigh. He was being pathetic and falling into the doldrums over nothing. He was getting better. He would be home soon.

And screw it, he would plant his butt on a beach and drag Scott with him just to piss him off.

“You okay?”

Huh? Scott was peering at him, that worry ever persistent in the darkness of his eyes.

“It is you who I’m worried about.” So, it was defensive, big deal. Needed to start the conversation somehow.

“Me? I’m not the one who took on a combine harvester and nearly lost.”

“It wasn’t exactly a choice, you know.”

“I know.” It was quiet and Virgil knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“Talk to me, Scott.”

“About what?”

Virgil flat-eyed glared at him. “About whatever has been bugging you the last few days.”

“I would have thought that was obvious with two brothers in the hospital.” Definitely defensive.

“No. This is more.”

“What? There are degrees? I don’t need analysis, Virg.”

Virgil pressed his lips together. “You’re hurting. You’re not talking. What other recourse do I have?”

“Do you need one?”

“Of course, I do! You’re you! Whatever this is, it’s weighing on you and I hate to see you in pain.”

“I’m not in pain. It’s you who was injured.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that doesn’t affect you, you’re either lying through your teeth or I should be even more worried because you’ve obviously suffered brain damage of some kind and are no longer the Scott Tracy I know. Perhaps I should check you for a holographic disguise.”

Scott let out an annoyed scoff and shot to his feet, his actions agitated. “Virg, it’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goddamnit, Virgil-“

“Talk to me!” And yelling apparently hurt his head, because it throbbed in protest. He grit his teeth and glared up at his brother. Please, Scott, for both our sakes.

“It was close, okay? Too damned close.”

Virgil swallowed. He knew that. “Not the first time.”

“So, I should be used to it by now?” Despite the darkness, Scott was lit up with internal fire.

“No.”

But he had finally triggered the avalanche and Scott spilled it all over him.

“Do you have any idea how close this was? Millimetres and you wouldn’t be here anymore, Virg.”

“Again, not the first time.”

“But it was so senseless!” Scott’s hands shot out palm up, desperate for understanding. “You weren’t even in the middle of a rescue. The sky just opened up, stabbed down a twister and threw a chunk of farm machinery at you. It lasted mere seconds and it nearly took both of you. Why? If you had landed a few metres further away, if you had been a few seconds later in arrival, hell, the margin for error was astronomical, yet, it still happened. I nearly lost you and Gordy for no damned reason whatsoever!”

“You need a reason?”

“Goddamned, I do! If I’m going to lose a brother, at least it should be for a reason. A sacrifice made for the good of all.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.” Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest.

“Well, it should. We do so much, sacrifice so much already, I don’t think it is too much to ask. We’ve already lost...” Scott shoved his face into his hands and parked himself back on the park bench. “Why the hell do you ask me these things?”

Ever so quiet. “Because they need to be asked.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.”

“I nearly lost you for nothing.”

“We were there for a reason. We both went in knowing the danger, you know that.”

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I’d be worried if it did.” Virgil sighed. “We survived, Scott. Thanks to you. You were fast enough.”

The grunt and groan that made it out between his brother’s fingers was pain itself.

The hoverchair made it awkward, but Virgil reached out and snagged his big brother with an arm and hauled him in the best he could. Scott, of course, protested, but Virgil’s arms were not injured and he was always smug that he had at least one thing racked up on the achievement scale that beat his almighty big brother and that was strength.

So, Scott was dragged into a hug whether he wanted it or not.

“Still here.”

Scott grumbled something unintelligible.

“Gords is adding it to his story list to tell at Penny’s parties.”

“He’s what?”

Distraction achieved.

“Wanna drop by Penny’s next charity dinner and play wingman to Gords? You get to take a few stiffs down a peg or million. Apparently, a few asses need a big brother kicking. We can break out Johnny and Eos for extra fun, if you like.”

“Who’s been messing with Gordon?” There it was. Exactly the trigger point needed.

“The Joe Wallstreets seem to think they are better than a fish Tracy.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Want to help me educate them? Though admittedly Gords was doing quite well on his own, higher education is always a good thing.”

Scott was staring at him in the darkness. It was obvious his brother knew exactly what Virgil was doing.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. It will be good PR for whatever charity Penny is supporting. With a bit of luck we can play it to her advantage as well.”

Scott was still staring at him.

“What?”

Ever so quiet. “What would I do without you?”

Virgil swallowed, desperately ignoring all the implications and the reverse of that question. “Here’s hoping we never find out.”

Scott sighed and let his head drop onto Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil just tugged him a little tighter and returned to trying to see the stars.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #thunderbirds fanart #godsliltippy

51 notes · View notes

queenofcats17 · 4 years

Text

Remember that HLVRAI Coraline AU? Here’s the thing I wrote for it.

Original idea came from me, @lady-lampblack, and @sbpstudios

This is also really old and I’m now finally finishing it. Some things have changed since the initial post because I had ideas.

-----------------------------------------------------

Joshua hadn’t wanted to move.

He’d liked his house and his friends and his school and hadn’t wanted to leave. But his dad had calmly explained that while he didn’t want to leave either, his new job was in another state. And while his dad hadn’t said it outright, Joshua knew money was tight. He’d heard his dad talking about not having enough money to keep the house when Gordon had thought Joshua was asleep.

Barney had offered to help, but Gordon had gently turned him down, pointing out that Barney had his own things to deal with. A security guard’s salary could only go so far and Gordon didn’t want Barney sacrificing his own health and safety just to help him.

So, they’d moved.

Joshua, his dad, and his dad’s roommate.

Joshua sat in the back of the moving truck, staring up at the ceiling while he listened to his dad and Benrey argue.

“We’re seriously not gonna have wi-fi for the whole weekend? That’s lame, dude.”

“Look, I couldn’t get anyone to come out any sooner. And it’s only for one weekend.”

“Lame, bro.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do. That’s just how it’s gonna be.”

“Are there gonna be other kids at our new house?” Joshua asked, getting up so that he could look at Benrey and Gordon. Benrey was playing on his PSP while Gordon drove the moving truck.

Even if he had to move halfway across the country, maybe he could still manage to make some cool new friends.

“I dunno, bud,” Gordon admitted. “The landlord mentioned that he doesn’t usually rent to families with kids, so...probably not.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s face fell and he allowed himself to slump back onto the floor of the truck.

“I’m sorry, Joshie,” Gordon said, glancing back at his son.

Joshua said nothing. It wasn’t fair. The last time they’d moved, it had only been to another city, but it had still been hard. He’d been yanked away from his friend and had to make new friends. And now he’d have to make new friends all over again.

“You’ll still have us, little man,” Benrey said, looking over his shoulder at the little boy slumped on the floor.

“It’s not the same,” Joshua mumbled. “I wanna have friends my own age.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Joshie.”

Joshua said nothing else for the rest of the drive, curled up in a little ball.

Benrey and Gordon continued to talk off and on. Although it sounded like arguing, Joshua knew that was just the way the two of them were. They’d been this way for as long as he could remember. He knew his dad and Benrey cared a lot about each other, they’d lived together Joshua’s whole life after all, but neither of them seemed willing to admit it. Which made no sense to Joshua. He didn’t get why they didn’t just admit they liked each other. But then again, Joshua didn’t get a lot of stuff about grown-ups.

He ended up falling asleep, only being woken up by his father announcing that they were there. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Joshua sat up and peered out the windshield. Immediately his eyes widened.

The building before them looked like something out of a historical drama, aside from the fact that it was all painted bright pink. It was massive, with what Joshua saw as towers, tons of windows, and a huge porch.

“That’s our house?” Joshua asked, his voice hushed in awe.

“Well, kind of,” Gordon said. “The house got converted into apartments a while ago, so we’re going to be living in one of the apartments.”

Joshua was briefly disappointed, but it didn’t last long. Apartments meant there would be other people, so he wouldn’t be alone. Plus, the house was in a wide open area so he could run around all he wanted.

“Can I look around?” Joshua asked, bouncing up and down. “I wanna look around!”

“Sure, just give me a second to find the landlord-”

But Joshua wasn’t listening. He’d heard ‘sure’ and had run with it, scrambling over the seat and Benrey to get out the door and onto the lawn.

He took off across the grass, eager to explore everything about the apartment complex. He’d never lived in an apartment in a house before! However, in his excitement, he failed to notice the man emerging from basement apartment. Before either knew what was happening, Joshua had plowed right into the man, knocking them both to the ground.

“Joshie!” Gordon yelled, running after him. “Don’t go running off like that!” He knelt down and helped the man up. “I’m so sorry.”

“It-It’s okay,” the man replied with a smile. “I wasn’t looking where I was go-going either.”

The man was tall, even to Gordon, which meant that he looked like a giant to Joshua. He was wearing what could only be called “dad clothes”, his attire consisting of a loud Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and socks and sandals.

“You’re really tall,” Joshua announced.

The man blinked, then laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“So...do you live here?” Benrey asked, peering past Gordon.

“Not...exactly?” The man laughed again. “I-I’m the landlord.”

Gordon’s face went as pale as it was conceivably able to. Benrey put a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“What’s a landlord?” Joshua asked loudly, still captivated by this strange man.

“It means he owns the building the apartments are in.” Gordon’s voice went up an octave. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Coolatta, I-”

“It’s alright,” the landlord cut him off with a reassuring smile. “And yo-you can call me Tommy.”

“Oh, uh, okay, Tommy?” Gordon laughed nervously. “It’s...Um...It’s nice to meet you?”

“You-You too.”

Joshua was getting bored sitting there. He wanted to keep running and exploring, not listen to the adults talk. So, he began to look around while his father and Tommy continued to talk.

Benrey stepped out from behind Gordon, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants. “So, uh, Feetman said-”

“Don’t call me that in front of our landlord!” Gordon hissed, swatting at Benrey’s shoulder.

This didn’t seem to deter Benrey in the slightest as he kept going. “Feetman said you didn’t rent to people with kids. Why’d you let us in?”

"We-Well, you just seemed so desperate,” Tommy replied. “It did-didn’t feel right to turn you away.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Coo- Tommy,” Gordon quickly corrected himself. “I really appreciate you letting us rent here.”

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured him.

“So, uh, how much do I owe you for the first month’s rent?” Gordon asked, digging out a notepad.

As the three adults began to hash out the first rent payment of the month, Joshua spotted a flash of black in the bushes. Curious, he crept over. As he got closer, a cat emerged from the foliage. It was a slender tuxedo cat, its fur sleek and glossy. It almost looked like it was wearing a little suit with the way its fur was patterned. It looked up at Joshua with piercing blue eyes that almost seemed to glow.

Joshua reached for it, transfixed by its gaze. There was a strange intelligence to the way it looked at him. As if it were somehow....human.

“Joshie!”

At the sound of Gordon’s voice, the cat turned tail and ran, disappearing into the shrubbery once more.

“Joshie!” Gordon repeated. “We’re going to start unloading the truck!”

“You gotta stake out your room or else we’ll steal the best one,” Benrey added with a grin.

“Hey! No fair!” Joshua protested.

He ran back to his father and Benrey, the cat momentarily forgotten.

Tommy, however, watched the bushes with a solemn expression. As the three new tenants began to unload their belongings, he disappeared into the woods outside the apartments, following the lead of the cat.

Joshua spent the next few weeks meeting the other residents of the Pink Palace.

Downstairs were Mr. Bubby and Mr. Coomer. They were married and had been in the circus together when they’d been young. Bubby was constantly boasting about his fire-breathing act and often still attempted to set things on fire, much to Tommy’s dismay. Coomer was still incredibly buff, even at his age, and could often be found chopping wood for Bubby to use in his little arson attempts. The whole fire thing was enough to make Gordon wary, so Joshua mostly only visited them when Gordon didn’t know about it.

Upstairs was Darnold. He was a high school chemistry teacher, although he didn’t want to do any cool experiments with explosions. Still, he was pretty fun to hang out with because he knew a lot of cool stuff about science. Even if he didn’t want to do explosion experiments, he was still happy to lead Joshua in some safer ones. Joshua got dropped off at his apartment a lot to be babysat while his father and Benrey worked because Darnold was the most normal and stable of the other tenants. Not to mention it was summer, so Darnold didn’t need to be at the school.

Next door was Forzen, who Joshua had only seen once. He was an ex-soldier and a bit of a shut-in. Joshua had been told to leave him alone.

And then there was Tommy. Tommy lived in a different house away from the Pink Palace, coming by every day to check on everyone. He was by far the coolest person Joshua had ever met, aside from Darnold and his dad and Benrey, and his dog was awesome. Sunkist was big enough for Joshua to ride! Tommy had let Joshua ride her a few times and it had been amazing.

But as awesome as Tommy was, there were certain things about him that were...strange. Whenever he thought other people weren’t watching, Joshua had noticed that his expression became strangely solemn. And he always seemed sad whenever he was around Joshua, even though he tried to hide it.

Not to mention, Joshua had seen him talking to the cat he’d seen on his first day at the Pink Palace. It always happened on the outskirts of the property, with Tommy crouched down and the cat half-hidden by the bushes.

“Whose cat is it?” Joshua asked Darnold one day after he’d been dropped off at the man’s apartment for the day.

“I’m...not sure what you mean,” Darnold said, looking up from the vegetables he’d been cutting. He was making a stir fry for both of them for lunch, which meant his usual bowtie and sweater vest combo had been removed and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“There’s a cat I see sometimes. It’s black and white and it’s got these really pretty blue eyes,” Joshua explained. “Whose cat is it?”

Darnold hummed, frowning slightly. “I don’t think it really belongs to anyone. It just....” He gestured vaguely with his free hand. “Lives in the woods and shows up sometimes. No one’s sure where it came from. Tommy takes care of it sometimes, though.”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to frown. “So you don’t know anything about it?”

“Nope.”

“Uuuugh.” Joshua groaned, sinking down on Darnold’s couch.

“Sorry.” Darnold smiled apologetically.

“Well, do you at least know why Mr. Coolatta doesn’t let people with kids live here?”

“Also no.”

Joshua groaned again, sinking further into the couch.

“I always figured it was due to some safety hazard,” Darnold said, returning to his cutting of vegetables. “Although, Bubby and Coomer say that that rule was in place even when Tommy’s father owned the place.”

This piqued Joshua’s interest. The first thing that ran through his mind was that there was some sort of conspiracy going on here. Some hidden secret.

Maybe it had to do with the weird door little he’d seen in the living room. The one that led to a brick wall and was only opened with a key shaped like a button. Gordon had figured it had probably connected the room that was their living room to whatever the correlating room in Forzen’s apartment was and had been bricked up when the house had been made into apartments. A simple enough explanation. But Joshua didn’t quite believe it.

Something was going on here.

Joshua had to find out what it was.

This turned out to be harder than Joshua had expected. Darnold didn’t know anything about the door or the rule, as he’d learned, he couldn’t talk to Forzen, and when he’d asked Tommy, the landlord had reacted rather strangely.

“Oh, w-well, you know,” Tommy had said with a nervous laugh. “Sa-Safety hazards an-and all that. Oh, would you lo-look at the time!” He’d then turned and absolutely sprinted away, not even answering the question about the door.

Which left Bubby and Coomer.

Joshua stood at the top of the stairs leading down to their apartment, a notebook clutched to his chest. Both his father and Benrey were out at work, so no one was there to stop him. Taking a deep breath, he marched down the stairs and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately, the door was opened, revealing the beaming face of one Doctor Harold Pontiff Coomer. Coomer was not a tall man, but he was a big one. He looked like a teddy-bear come to life while wearing long-sleeves. But when those long sleeves came off, one could see properly how Coomer was built like a brick wall.

“Ah, hello Joshua!” Coomer said brightly.

“Hello, Mr. Coomer,” Joshua said, drawing himself up to his full height, which was not all that tall. “I’ve got some questions I wanna ask.”

“Questions?” Coomer repeated, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Mm-hm!” Joshua nodded resolutely, holding his notebook to his chest.

“What sorts of questions?” Coomer asked.

Joshua was about to answer until Bubby’s voice came from deeper in the apartment. “Who is it?!”

“It’s Joshua!” Coomer called back without missing a beat. “The boy from upstairs!”

“He’s still alive?” There was some shuffling and Bubby appeared, wearing a faded blue bathrobe and squinting at Joshua over the top of his incredibly thick glasses.

“Why wouldn’t I be alive?” Joshua asked.

“There’s a monster here that eats kids,” Bubby answered matter-of-factly. “Would’ve thought it’d have put its little feelers out by now.”

“A monster?” Joshua’s eyes widened, all thoughts of the little door gone.

“Yeah, why do you think they don’t rent to kids?” Bubby folded his arms. “Monster. Eats kids.”

“So Mister Tommy knows?”

“But of course!” Coomer replied. “His father never let him come near this place when he was a child for fear young Tommy would be snapped up!”

“And there’s no way Greg didn’t tell the kid about it when he took over running the place,” Bubby added.

Joshua nodded, scribbling this information down.

He’d known something was going on!

“What do you know about the monster?” Joshua demanded, his face screwed up in adorable determination.

“Not much.” Bubby shrugged. “It’s weird, it eats kids, got a thing for buttons I think.”

“It lures you in by giving you everything you could possibly want.” Coomer’s expression was suddenly dark, his voice low and solemn. “It grants your heart’s deepest desires and then it steals away everything that makes you you. It eats your life and drains your soul until there is nothing left but an empty husk.”

There was a long pause as both Bubby and Joshua stared at Coomer.

“Jesus Christ, Harold,” Bubby finally said.

“Or so I’ve heard!” Coomer’s bright expression and peppy tone immediately returned. “So don’t go following any strange button-eyed creatures!”

Joshua nodded slowly, clutching his notebook to his chest like a safety blanket.

Thankfully, his attention was drawn away by the sound of his father’s voice. “Joshie? Joshie where are you?”

“I gotta go,” Joshua announced, looking back at Bubby and Coomer. “Thank you for your valuable information.”

“Don’t get eaten!” Bubby yelled after him as he ran away. “You see any spider looking fucks, you set them on fire!”

Gordon was standing on the porch in front of their door, looking slightly panicked as he scanned the lawn to see if he could locate Joshua. Benrey had a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb in circles on Gordon’s shirt. Gordon visibly relaxed when he saw Joshua running up.

“There you are, bud.” He knelt and opened his arms, allowing Joshua to run into them. “You had me really worried. I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Joshua mumbled. “Just wanted to ask Mr. Bubby and Mr. Coomer some stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?” Benrey asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I wanted to know why Mr. Tommy doesn’t let people with kids live here,” Joshua said. “Mr. Darnold said it’s been that way since Mr. Tommy’s dad owned the house.”

“And did they have an answer for you?” Gordon asked as he picked Joshua up.

Joshua lit up, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! They said there’s a monster that eats kids and that’s why Mr. Tommy and Mr. Tommy’s dad don’t want kids here!”

“That’s an interesting story,” Gordon said with a somewhat unsure smile.

“If there’s a monster, why’d he rent to us?” Benrey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Tommy did say we seemed desperate.” Gordon’s smile slipped a bit.

“It’s okay, Dad.” Joshua put his little hands on the sides of his father’s face, staring at him with an adorably determined expression. “If I meet any monsters, I’ll kick their butts.”

Gordon blinked, then laughed softly and kissed Joshua’s forehead. “Of course.”

“I’m a cowboy! I’ll kick their butts!” Joshua insisted as Gordon carried him inside.

“Hell yeah you will.” Benrey agreed, following them inside.

Gordon sighed, although he couldn’t help but smile while he did. “Don’t encourage him, Benrey.”

Dinner that night was spaghetti, which Joshua couldn’t help but complain about a little. It was just noodles and store bought sauce, both of which were rather bland.

“I’m sorry, bud.” Gordon smiled wearily. “I’m just kind of tired.”

“You’re always tired,” Joshua grumbled, sinking lower in his chair.

Gordon got very quiet after that. Benrey immediately jumped in to fill the silence with his rambling about PlayStation, but Joshua could tell he’d struck a nerve.

That night, after he was supposed to have gone to bed, he crept to his bedroom door to listen to his father and Benrey talking from the living room.

“I’m a horrible dad,” Joshua heard Gordon mumble. It sounded like he’d been crying. “I’m ruining his life and he’s going to hate me when he’s older.”

“You’re doing the best you can, bro,” Benrey replied.

“But is it good enough?” Gordon demanded. “You heard him! I’m always tired!”

“Yeah, well, busting your ass 24/7 is gonna do that to you.”

“I’m not giving him the kind of life he deserves, Benrey! He’s only eight and we’ve already had to move twice!”

“You’re doing the best you can,” Benrey’s voice grew soft, barely audible through the door. “And even if you can’t always be there, he knows you love him, Gordon.”

There was a loud sniffle, likely from Gordon.

“Thanks, Benrey.”

“No prob, dude. Now.” The creak of someone, presumably Benrey, getting up from the couch. “I’m gonna go get you some water and check on the little dude, okay?”

“Okay.”

Joshua scrambled to get back in bed, hiding under his covers to pretend he was sleeping. He could hear Benrey’s footsteps coming closer, then the door opening. Joshua laid as still as he possibly could, trying to keep his breathing even.

There was a beat of silence, then, “I know you’re awake, kiddo.”

“How’d you know?” Joshua popped up.

“You and Gordo snore real loud when you’re actually asleep,” Benrey said as he leaned on the doorframe. He’d turned on the lights, illuminating the room and his smirk.

“I do not snore,” Joshua huffed, folding his arms and pouting.

“Sure, kiddo.” Benrey strode into the room. “Now, it’s past your bedtime. You gotta sleep now.”

Joshua laid back down, continuing to pout as Benrey tucked him back in.

“Why don’t you and Dad get together?” He asked after a moment.

Benrey froze, hands hovering over the blankets. “.....Huh?”

Joshua stared up at him, his expression earnest and full of youthful sincerity.

“I know you guys like each other,” Joshua said. “So why don’t you get together?”

“It’s...complicated, little man.” Benrey started playing with the tassels on his hat.

“But you guys love each other!”

“Your dad’s been hurt by people he loved before.”

Joshua fell silent.

He knew exactly who Benrey was referring to.

Joshua knew virtually nothing about the man that was his other biological father. All he knew was that Gordon and this man had dated and the two of them had wanted to have a child together. Joshua. But when Joshua had actually been born, the man had skipped down, leaving Gordon alone with his newborn baby.

“Shifty bastard’s lucky I haven’t seen him since he pulled that stunt,” Joshua had heard Barney say once to Benrey after Gordon had gone to bed. “Otherwise I would’ve kicked his teeth in.”

The Calhoun brothers had a lot of feelings about Gordon’s former partner and absolutely none of them were positive, although they tried not to talk too much about him while Gordon was around.

Joshua himself didn’t particularly care about the man and seldom spared him a passing thought. Except when his dad was in pain. Then he thought about the man and wondered why he would leave Gordon all alone like this.

“But you’re not like him,” Joshua insisted.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not gonna be scared,” Benrey said, his voice soft. “When you’ve been burned like that...The fear never goes away.”

“So...Is he just gonna be miserable forever?” Joshua started to tear up. He didn’t want his dad to be miserable.

“Not forever. He just needs some time. He’ll be okay, I promise,” Benrey assured him, ruffling Joshua’s hair.

“...Are you gonna make sure he’s okay?”

“Yep. I’m kinda like a superhero, y’know? Keeping your dad safe from the shadows.”

Joshua giggled at Benrey’s attempt to look cool, his fears assuaged for the moment.

“Sleep well, bud.” Benrey kissed Joshua’s forehead and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Joshua rolled over in bed, snuggling up under his blankets. Soon enough, he was fast asleep.

He was awoken hours later by what sounded like claws scrabbling on hardwood. He sat up, looking blearily around. The room was dark and the house was quiet. Aside from the claws on the wood, that was.

“Dad?” Joshua called out. “Benrey?”

There was no response.

Frowning, Joshua picked up the flashlight he kept next to his bed and put on his cowboy hat. His cowboy hat always made him feel braver. He crept into the hallway, shining his flashlight around. The sounds seemed to be coming from the living room.

The living room where the teeny door was.

Joshua walked a bit faster, sliding into the living room. There, in front of the little door, was the cat he’d seen outside. And a rat. A rat made of...cloth? The cat had the rat in its mouth, shaking it about as if trying to break the rat’s neck. In its own mouth, the rat clutched the button key to the door.

“Kitty? What are you doing in here?” Joshua asked, walking over to the cat.

The cat’s head snapped around to look at Joshua, and he got the strongest feeling that it was telling him to go back to bed. It was the same look that Gordon or Benrey gave him when they were very tired and really wanted him to just listen to them. Joshua took an instinctive step back. He hadn’t thought a cat was capable of such a human expression.

The rat took advantage of this shift in the cat’s attention to wriggle out of its mouth and through the little door with the key. Which was now open.

“Wait! You can’t take that key!” Joshua yelled, chasing after the rat without a second thought. “It’s not yours!”

The cat’s eyes widened as Joshua darted into the strange passage beyond the tiny door. It quickly followed after him, the door swinging shut behind them.

The tunnel beyond the door was.... strange. Joshua wasn’t sure why he felt like this, but he felt like he was crawling through the throat of something large. It felt....alive. He shook his head and tried to move faster.

Soon enough, he reached the end of the tunnel, pushing out into the room beyond.

“Umm...Hello?” Joshua stuck his head out of the doorway. It looked exactly like the room he’d left. Except...he could hear someone humming. Frowning, Joshua pulled himself out of the tunnel and got up, following the humming toward the kitchen.

Outside of the living room, the house looked different. It looked...He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It just looked...brighter. More welcoming.

“Hello?” He asked, pushing the kitchen door open.

There was a man in the kitchen. He had his back to Joshua and was humming while he chopped something on the counter. Upon hearing Joshua enter, he turned around, revealing....

“Dad?”

The man who looked like Gordon smiled warmly. He looked almost identical to Joshua’s father, with a few key differences. This man was far more put together than Joshua was used to seeing Gordon. His orange sweater and brown slacks were immaculate, and his hair was fluffy and swept back in neat ponytail.

And he had black buttons where his eyes should have been.

“Joshie!” The man who was not his father said, in a voice exactly like Gordon’s. “You’re just in time for dinner, bud!”

“You...You’re not my dad,” Joshua stammered, backing up.

“I’m your Other Father,” Not Gordon explained. “Now, could could you go tell your other Other Father that dinner’s ready now?”

“My....other Other Father?” Joshua repeated weakly.

“He’s in his study,” Other Gordon said, already turning away to start presumably plating the food.

“Okay.” Joshua nodded, turning away. He still had his flashlight clutched tightly to his chest.

He wasn’t sure what Other Gordon had meant by “study”. They didn’t really have a study. The closest they had was the designated game room, which Benrey did spend a lot of time in. So, Joshua headed there.

As he got closer to the game room, he could hear the sounds of a piano being played. Joshua frowned slightly at this. The closest thing to an instrument he’d ever heard Benrey play had been a kazoo, and that had only been to bother Gordon. Although, he had heard Barney mention once that Benrey had wanted to be a musician when he’d been younger.

When Joshua opened the door to the game room, he was greeted with the sight of another Benrey sitting at a piano. Like Other Gordon, Other Benrey was far more put together. He was wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a blue vest, black dress pants, and a blue bowtie. His hair was slicked back against his head, as shiny as the blue buttons that constituted his eyes.

“Hey there, bud!” Other Benrey grinned upon seeing Joshua. “What’s up?”

“You can play the piano?” Joshua whispered, eyes wide with awe.

“Don’t need to. It plays me.” Other Benrey said with a wink.

A pair of gloves on mechanical arms emerged from the top of the piano, the gloves slipping on to Other Benrey’s hands and spinning him around to begin playing. Joshua almost dropped the flashlight as he scrambled forward to get a better look. It was incredible to watch Other Benrey’s fingers fly across the keys, even if it was mostly due to the gloves.

“That’s so cool!” Joshua exclaimed when Other Benrey had finished.

“Glad you think so, little man,” Benrey laughed, ruffling Joshua’s hair. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, uh, he said to tell you that dinner’s ready,” Joshua replied, placing his cowboy hat back on his head.

“Oh hell yeah! I’m starving!” Other Benrey grinned, getting to his feet and scooping Joshua up in his arms. “We better not keep him waiting, huh?”

Joshua nodded. The anxiety he’d felt upon seeing the Other Gordon had calmed a bit with this Other Benrey, who was every bit as silly and comforting as the Benrey Joshua knew.

Other Benrey carried Joshua to the dining room, where Other Gordon was dishing up pancakes.

“Pancakes for dinner?!” Joshua’s eyes lit up as he was set down in his chair.

Pancakes for dinner was a rare occurrence at their house. Gordon and Benrey were always too tired to make pancakes most of the time.

“Of course,” Other Gordon said with a smile. “This is a very special occasion, which calls for a very special meal.”

“Hope you remembered the fruit, babe,” Other Benrey laughed, snaking an arm around Other Gordon’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

“How could I forget? It’s your favorite part,” Other Gordon replied, playfully swatting at Other Benrey’s shoulder.

“You’re together?” Joshua asked, voice small but hopeful.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Other Benrey asked. “We love each other.

“And we love you,” Other Gordon continued, smiling softly down at Joshua. “We’re so glad to have you here.”

Joshua couldn’t help but smile. After everything that had been going on lately...This was exactly what he’d wanted.

Gordon and Benrey happy together, not tired or overworked, paying attention to him.

He almost didn’t want to go home.

#hlvrai #hlvrai au #coraline au #fanfiction

80 notes · View notes

emergency-plan · 4 years

Text

Gun-no-more (most of the time)

This is my first piece for hlvrai! This is based off @forsea‘s professor freeman au and my headcannon that Gordon still keeps the gun-hand after Black Mesa, and that he can turn it into a robotic hand in a Transformers-esque transition. I wrote this in a few minutes, but I hope you enjoy this short tidbit!

---

“So, Feetman,” Benrey greeted, closing the door behind him. He had gone to the store for Doritos and had been gone for two hours, so Gordon was getting a bit concerned, but not too worried. “You know how you’ve been looking for a job?”

“Yeah?” he responded, turning his laptop around to show the countless tabs he had open and the job site he was on at the moment. “Not much has changed since you left. None of them sound right. I’m far too over qualified to work at a fast food joint, because they might want to know why someone with a PhD is going for such a low-paying job, but if I apply to one of the fancier places, they can dig deep into my background and find out that I'm responsible for wiping out the US military.” he ranted.

“Yo, that sounds like it sucks,” Benrey deadpanned, “but-”

“Not to mention,” he interrupted, “how am I going to get a job with this?” He motioned to the gun taking up the majority of his right forearm. “Why couldn’t that potion have just given me a normal hand? It was useful for a while, but now-”

Benrey shut the laptop and slapped some papers on top of it.

“I found you a job, Feetman,” he said, watching as Gordon picked up the papers before looking up incredulously at him.

“At a school?” he asked. “Do you understand how horrible of an idea that is?”

“What do you mean?” he questioned. “It’ll be fine… I think. Just audition or whatever it is you do.”

“I literally have a gun for a hand!” Gordon exclaimed. “I can’t even legally set foot on a school campus! We may have robbed a bank, but I won’t go that far. If I showed up for an interview, I’d be arrested on the spot! I could get my arm unprofessionally amputated again, but I can still feel shards of bone in it from last time, and I don’t want more. But if I don’t do that, what other options do I have? I can’t exactly hide my entire arm for the rest of my life, now can I!” He threw his arms up in frustration, but he sucked in a sharp breath as he felt something shift in the gun, thinking he would accidentally fire bullets into the apartment above.

When all that followed was mechanical whirring, he looked at what was happening. Metal was spinning and shifting, popping apart and clicking together, forming joints from tubes, leaving five fingers where five barrels once were.

They both blinked at the limb as Gordon experimentally moved his new hand.

“Well, uh, you were saying, Cringeman?” Benrey grinned.

“Uh, w-well,” he stuttered, thinking. “Being a professor does sound pretty inconspicuous…” he trailed off.

---

“Mr. Freeman?” he heard whispered next to him, snapping him out of the memory. Gordon turned to face one of his more quiet students. “Sorry, I tried getting your attention, but you didn’t notice.”

“No need to apologize,” he comforted, noticing how they must have been tapping the realistic glove over his right arm. “I don’t have any feeling in this arm, so I didn’t notice. What did you need?” As they asked their question, he noticed the conspiracy-prone students in the back typing away furiously at their computers.

#hlvrai #hlvrai au #professor freeman au #forsea #gordon freeman #benrey #benry

128 notes · View notes

flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (2/2)

Hellooooo again people. This is the second part as promised! It concludes the small serie, for a grand total of 12.5k words, which is higher than my average if I’m honest 😂 I had so much fun writing this, thanks anon! I hope it was up to your expectations! Enjoy part 2 xx

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 7106

Warnings: violence, language, a bit of trauma

Day 9

“... There is no development in the case, all search parties came up with nothing. The GCPD now believes the disappearance of the young woman has a direct link to the major leak of incriminating documents that were shared to the DA’s office. The investigation, conducted by commissioner Gordon, might sound the fall of an empire of organized crime in Gotham if it goes through trial…”

“I was supposed to marry Vitto, today” You spoke up with mild boredom over yet another news story about you. You hadn’t realized time had flown this fast ever since you betrayed your family.

“Oh, oh wow” Jason hadn’t expected that. “Why would anyone do that?”

In the last days you had gotten into a semi-comfortable routine. The bickering was still very much present, but the snark had considerably deescalated. You had now tasted every snack he told you regular people ate, even those energy drinks he seemed to like to consume during long drives. You had even taken a cautious liking to the canned soups, which remained the only thing you knew how to make on a stove. Still, you didn’t escape Jason’s mockery everytime you didn’t know how to do something “simple”. You didn’t think you’d ever escape it, no matter what.

“It’s not like I had a choice” You said as a matter of fact, leaning back on the headrest of the car. “Women in my world are either trophies or mothers, depending on whether or not they’re still in their prime”

“Let me guess, you were to be Vitto’s trophy?”

“Bingo”

“How old is he, like 50?” He snorted.

“46” You corrected. “Not that it makes any difference”

Jason gagged. “Guess you dodged a serious bullet there”

“God, marrying that manwhore plagued my nightmares for weeks” You chuckled, looking up at the roof of the car. “Hope he rots in jail once this is over”

“Arranged marriage, uh?” He said, sending you a quick uncomfortable glance. Something akin to remorse flashed very briefly across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. You only nodded. “Sorry about that”

“Don’t be” You brushed off. “That was essentially their downfall in the end. Half of the reasons why I leaked the documents was to prove to my family I am not a chew toy to throw to the dogs. A power grab was out of the question, especially after one of my distant cousins, Alaina, tried and got gunned down. I thought if I was to get killed, I’d go down trying to be better”

Your words were followed by silence, and you realized you had said too much. You didn’t want or need his pity. You cleared your throat and looked away. Soon enough, Jason pulled into a shady looking motel and stopped the car. You glanced in disgust at the overall state of the motel, thinking about how it was definitely the worst one you had stayed in so far, even if you hadn’t stepped foot in yet. The vacancy sign was flashing against the sunset in the distance, and it gave you serious serial killer vibes.

You grabbed your travel bag from the backseat and followed Jason in. The neons inside were barely functioning, casting a harsh glow on the lobby, if anyone could call it a lobby. The man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the little bell above the door and stood up slowly, showing off the grease stains on his yellowed wife-beater. He gave the impression of being just as crooked as his motel, especially with the creepy grin he gave the both of you, but especially to you. Jason walked up to the counter, unbothered by the general mood of the place.

“Good evening” The clerk greeted with a smoke clouded voice, glancing in between you two. “For an hour or two?”

You grimaced while Jason blinked slowly. Then, he smiled one of his smiles that looked normal, but hid something dangerous when you looked close. You had found yourself on the other end of those more times than not ever since he became your unofficial bodyguard. “Got anything for the night?”

The clerk laughed while you wanted to hit him. Hit them both, actually.

“I like your style, kid” He wrote something on his clipboard before turning around and grabbing a key from the wall. “That’ll be 60”

Jason took out three 20$ bills from his wallet and handed them in exchange for the keys. Jason however leaned further on the counter. “How thick are the walls in there?”

“You sly dog” He chortled, and Jason joined. “Don’t worry, if your girl ain’t much of a screamer nobody will know what you be doing. Here, take that, if you want some more fun”

“Perfect” His lips curled up as he accepted the flyer handed to him. You caught a glimpse of the bright green paper, announcing some kind of escort service. “Thanks”

“Aight kid, room 141. Have fun”

You forced yourself to ignore the lusty eyes he sent your way and snatched the keys from Jason’s hand, hurrying to the room. “What was that?” You hissed under your breath.

“You’re in a place full of suspicious people” He hissed back. “You gotta act suspicious with them or they’ll single you out”

“Did you really have to make it seem like I was a prostitute?” You said as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped in and let him in, before locking again the door behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being…” He trailed off as he halted his steps. His frame blocked the sight of the room for you, so you didn’t know what he was talking about. Was it dirty? Were there rodents? “Oh you must be fucking kidding me”

You finally peeked around him, to see only one bed rather than the two queens he usually asked. He had forgotten this time to ask, and the clerk had naturally insinuated you’d want to be together. How could he have not?

“At least it’s a King bed this time” You sniggered. “More space”

“I’m gonna get it changed” He turned around to go back to the reception desk.

“Wasn’t it you who said not to act suspicious?” You raised a challenging eyebrow. “If you go back there and ask for two beds, won’t that ruin all that acting you did over there?”

He spun around once again, facing you with narrowed eyes. He obviously didn’t like you using his logic against him. “Right.” He then side stepped you and went straight to the windows. He closed the blinds and proceeded to check the walls for… Whatever. He looked strange doing it.

“And right now you’re…” You trailed off, trying to find why he was all but caressing the dirty walls.

“Checking for cameras” He finished, looking inside a lamp. “Those motels sometimes have hidden cameras and the owners resell the tapes on porn sites”

“Oh god” You reacted, horrified. And he had the audacity to paint you off as a criminal, when those kinds of people existed. You thought you would be sick. He paused, sending you what you thought was a concerned glance--but it couldn’t be--before he returned to his examination.

“That’s why I’m making sure there’s none here” He mumbled.

You nodded, then carefully made your way to the bed. Despite the overwhelming scent of cigarettes latched onto the fabric, the sheet seemed relatively clean, at least for the general quality of the establishment. You dropped your bag in front of the dresser beside you and sat on the edge of the bed as Jason finished his inspection.

“All clear” He announced before taking out his gun from his belt and putting it on the nightstand. “You should rest, we won’t stay here too long. Also, if you can avoid the shower, I’d recommend you wait until we are somewhere else”

“I hate it here”

“Yeah well, our disastrous stop to Target has kind of tied our hands, princess” He shrugged, like it was your fault you had been found. “So we gotta settle for even less if you don’t want a redo”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” You glared at him.

“What, princess?” He asked rhetorically, then paused and pretended to think. “No, no I don’t think so”

“You’re insufferable” You scoffed, climbing up further on the bed.

“I wouldn’t get under the covers either” He warned as you were about to pull back the comforter, totally ignoring your comment on his general attitude. “I doubt they’re washing them real good”

You shuddered in disgust as you instead opted for bringing your knees to your chest, hoping the room wouldn’t get too cold during the night.

Day 10

You didn’t if it was your state still clouded by sleep, or the shock that made you see the scene happen in slow motion.

Jason was waking up, sitting in the bed at a reasonable distance from you as your eyes cracked open. Still, you saw the sequence clearly. His back tensed and his head snapped to the window, then his eyes widened. He reacted in a fraction of second, grabbing his gun on the fly and diving on your side. You had barely the time to register his body colliding with yours that the first machine gun went off. You hit the ground hard, but you didn’t feel anything in the spike of adrenaline and paralyzing fear that surged through you. You could only close your eyes as bullets rained over you, and yet you weren’t even touched by the wood and cotton flying everywhere as his body caged yours in protection. His string of curse was audible above the commotion, which let you know he wasn’t gravely wounded yet. Yet.

There was a pause in the shooting, but your eyes were still ringing so loud you didn’t hear him call your name at first. You opened your eyes, disoriented.

“Hey, hey stay with me” He hurried his words, glancing over his shoulders. “Roll under the bed, don’t come out until I come and get you, and if they try to get you, hit them with anything you find, aim for the head”

You could only nod as he helped you get under the bed, and for one you couldn’t even be bothered to notice how filthy it was under there. You were terrified for you, but also for Jason who would face those people with a handgun only. You just hoped his skills hadn’t been exaggerated, or else it would be bad news for everyone.

There was chatter in between the gun fires, but you couldn’t decipher the voices. You counted there were at least six different tones of shout. However, judging by the familiar smugness of the exchange, you could have sworn it was Jason mocking them and not the other way around. It made you wonder exactly what kind of security he had done if he was taking the time to be smug in a one against five fight. Still, you were glad to have him on your side rather than against you.

“Hey”

You jumped and screamed at the sudden face appearing to your left, but let out a breath of relief when you saw it was Jason. He helped you out from under the bed, his glance shifty in between the door and windows. The room was a mess, he was covered in blood you doubted was his, and he was still on guards.

“So, we need to leave now” He said, already picking up his bag and yours. You noticed a second gun now strapped on his thigh and various new weapons in a utility belt. Where he got that was a mystery, but you didn’t question it. He gently pressed you along the bodies dropped at the threshold of the room and in the hallway until you reached the reception desk. You counted seven bodies. The same creepy clerk was cowering behind his desk, a darker stain on the crotch of his pants. Jason gave him an overall look and sighed, shaking his head. Still, he paused in front of him and dropped the bags.

“You son of a bitch” He chuckled lowly, menacingly. “You sold us out, didn’t you?”

He whined in response, confirming Jason’s suspicion.

“How much did you cash on the tip? 3k? 4k?” He taunted further, tsking in disapproval. “Can’t trust anyone these days”

“Please, I needed the money--”

Jason shot two bullets in his head. “Don’t care”

He turned on his heels and grabbed the bags again, bringing you along as gently as he could. You went outside, but he gestured for you to wait at a good distance from the car. He went over and inspected it, taking two devices off from two different places. Bombs, you figured. He threw the first one through the windows of the reception, then the other, he shot while in the air. An explosion went off, shaking your stance on the ground as the motel’s central area went up in flames.

“Oops, gas leak” He said blandly. “Come on, let’s get out of here”

You climbed in the passenger seat, clutching your now all dusted up bag for support. You needed to hold onto something while you came to terms with the repeated attempts on your life in the last fifteen minutes. Jason drove off, leaving the smoking building off to burn.

“Sorry you had to see that back in the lobby” He spoke when you were far enough.

“It’s fine” You shook your head. “He deserved it”

He blinked, a tiny bit stunned. “Hey are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” It came out weaker than intended. “I’m way in over my head with this”

“No, no, you did the right thing” He tried to reassure you, or that’s what you thought he was trying to do. Either way, it went right over your mental downward spiralling.

“I should have stayed in my lane” You kept mumbling, flexing your fingers on your bag. “I’d still be doing my thing, away from literal murder attempts in crappy motel rooms”

“Hey hey hey” He lifted a hand up. “May I remind you that you’d be married to Vitto fucking Maroni right now if you didn’t go rogue? That thought alone should give you relief”

You let out an uncontrolled laugh. What has your life become?

“Truth is I don’t know what I’m doing” You admitted, your voice cracking. “All I’ve achieved it to piss everyone off”

“Yeah you did piss everyone off, but so do I on a daily basis” He replied, making your frown in confusion. “Sometimes pissing everyone else is the only way to get things going, y’know?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I literally don’t”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it immediately. He then took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “All I’m saying is, doing the right thing is an ugly job. It’s hard and messy and fucks with you, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and do it anyway. I know this is all new for you, and this is a rather harsh welcome party, but you gotta fight through it”

You nodded, casting your eyes on him at last. His skin was reddened by the drying blood on his face and hair, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Amidst the cooling blood, you noticed a steady flow of brighter red coming off a hole in the sleeve of his t-shirt, widening the already big stain around it.

“You’re bleeding”

He looked down at his side, unfazed. “Oh right, a bullet got me on the initial wave”

“We need to get it out and close the wound” Your eyes found his for a brief second, before his glance returned to the road.

“It can wait” He downplayed it, probably by a force of habit.

“It looks like it’s bleeding a lot” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine--”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt” You interrupted him. You felt like you had at least to do something for him, especially since he just saved your life twice. Besides, you needed to focus on something else than what had just gone down. “Let me help”

He took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. He pulled over at the next gas station and parked the car, then went to his trunk, picking his first aid kit while you went to ask for the bathroom key. You joined him at the car and went to find the bathroom in the back of the building, locking the door behind you for privacy. You stood beside him as he rummaged through it, handing you a pair of pliers and disinfecting gauzes. You waited for him to take off his jacket, laying your supplies on the counter, then carefully rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt. You grabbed a clean gauze to stop the bleeding, gently pressing on the wound.

“Have you done this before?”

You didn’t see his question come, but you answered nonetheless. “Yes, a few times” You said. “On my older brothers. That’s something we learn, just in case we are the ones to patch up our husbands”

“Is this really how you were treated?” He asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to what you had gotten so far. “Like a service wife in training?”

“Pretty much” You nodded with a weak scoff. You carefully checked the wound, and the bleeding had almost stopped. You grabbed the alcohol gauze and tore the pack open. “There isn’t much choice but to obey”

He didn’t even flinch when you cleaned the wound. “When I pulled the gun on you the first day we met, you said it wasn’t the first time somebody did that to you” He began, recalling the events from ten days ago. “What happened the other times?”

You put the bloodied gauzes aside and grabbed the pliers, disinfecting them with a smaller alcohol wipe before going for the bullet. “Would you believe me if I said something along the lines of wildly opposing my union to the Maroni family?”

His lips curled up slightly, but his teeth were clenched as you tried to grab the bullet well lodged in his flesh. You managed to get a good grip on it and slowly pulled it out. You immediately covered the wound again with clean gauze and dropped the bullet in the trash pile.

“Bullet’s intact, you should be fine” You said, holding the gauze with one hand and searching for a needle and a stitching thread with the other.

“How old were you when it happened?”

You paused, staring at his arm. How old were you back then, when your father announced you’d be part of a two-way deal with the Maroni family? Not very old, that was for sure. You pulled the gauze away and sanitized the needle, then passed the thread in the loop. “17, I think”

“You were just a child” It came out more like a statement than a question. You shrugged before beginning the stitches. He still wasn’t flinching as the needle came in and out of his skin,making it easier for you to do a clean job. You finally tied the thread and cut it with the scissors he handed you.

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess” You apologized as you wrapped the wound with yet some other clean gauze and bandaged it. “I… I didn’t plan this through at all. I felt the doors close on me and I acted without even thinking of the real consequences. I thought I would be strong enough to go with it, turns out I’m not”

You had been all bark and no bite, you could see that now. You came in strong, acting like nothing could get to you, like the threat was just an imaginary bound to keep you in place. You made a bold move to cross it, and now you could clearly see how dangerous the waters you were threading in actually were. It wasn’t child’s play anymore, it was real, and you caved under the pressure on your first real trial.

He turned around as he pulled his sleeve down, facing you. He was in your space, but it didn’t feel like all the other times. His presence wasn’t threatening. “You don't have to apologize” There was something genuine in his eyes. “And to pull off what you did needs strength, even if you don’t realize it yet. Your reaction to almost being killed doesn’t change that fact”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way”

“Trust me, princess” His little teasing smile returned. “Someone who can hold her own against me like you did is not weak”

“I was just mean” You blinked in surprise, letting out a small chuckle. “I think that’s different”

“See, still arguing” His smile widened. You had known him for ten days, but you had gotten used to him being a certain way. This light and sincere attitude he had now was, to say the least, unusual for you. When he wasn’t constantly sneering, you noticed his features better. His blue eyes carried a kind spark, the type you found in a natural caretaker. The harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones shaped a handsome face, decorated by little silver scars blending with his freckles. He was like a fallen angel shining through a broken halo, dangerous and protective, but only if you took the time to look past the burned wings. The unflattering white light of the bathroom made him look worn out, but it didn’t change anything to the raw beauty of his face. His bloody knuckles came in soft contact with your cheek, like a feather gliding on a cloud in the sky. His eyes never left yours, and even if they did, you felt like you’d follow them whichever direction they went.

He was tall, considerably so. He hovered over you like a safety blanket, your own shield from the dangers stalking you outside the door. At that moment, you had trouble understanding how his proximity had once filled you with so much unease you felt like hiding away, because all you could feel now was an all consuming calm. There was however a pulse that was alive, one that was begging you to get closer. He seemed to have felt it too; his movement was slow, letting you more than enough time to back off. As his lips slowly got closer to yours, you know you didn’t want to move away. You filled the distance separating you from him and met him there in a gentle kiss to test the water first.

It didn’t take long for you to lose control. All the emotion of the last days that had bottled up were let to run wild in between you two like an electric current, surrendering your every sense to him. Your hands went to the back of his neck for support, because god knew you needed it. His arms sneaked behind your back as he pushed further into you, quickening the pace of the kiss and clouding your mind. Tongues battled in a war that was already won, knowing in one way or another he’d be the victor. You could feel all the tension, all the frustration, all the anger and all the guilt coming in strong before burning like dry wood in a bonfire. Were there any versions of this that didn’t end where you were? It seemed impossible.

You didn’t want to open your eyes just yet when he pulled away, reluctant to even let go. He captured your lips in a couple of kisses before fully letting you catch your breath.

“Well” His voice was barely over a whisper over the panting. “That might be one way to settle an argument”

“Then I might pick more arguments” Your lips lifted in a small grin.

“And I might not object to that” His eyes were bright with amusement. “Besides, I might have gotten around to like that smart mouth of yours”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Might” He corrected.

“Sure” For the first time in what felt like forever, you actually smiled. You slowly retracted your arms from his neck, letting him stand straight again.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and put as much distance as we can from this motel” He said, but it lacked the patronizing tone it once contained. It was even like he didn’t actually want to leave just yet, but had to, or both of your safety. You shared the sentiment.

You packed the first aid kit and burned the bloody gauzes in the sink, then killed the fire and returned the key to the counter. You drove away shortly after, confident things might just be alright this time.

Day 16

You had circled back to the first place you had stayed in, the little cabin so far in the woods you were almost sure nobody would find you, or at least not yet.

Jason had told you he had installed security devices on the dirt road to make sure he was aware of anybody driving up, as well as the traps he had set in the woods. Once again, it reinforced your idea that his job experience might not have been a traditional one. You frankly didn’t mind, as you were in no position to judge a potential criminal past. Besides, you believed anything he did couldn’t be worse than what your family or the Maronis did on a daily basis.

You had woken up when the sun was already high in the sky, and to your surprise Jason had still been there, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When you had turned around on your side, he had mimicked you to come face to face with you, not talking at all. His wound on his arm had stopped bleeding during the night, for which you were thankful for. It eased your guilt to see it was healing well. You had stayed there for what seemed like hours, but it was comfortable.

“I meant to ask,” He began, his voice soft and husky from the morning. “Why did you go to Bruce with the leak?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go to the police, it was out of the question. I couldn’t trust any of them to pursuit this case”

“But what made you trust Bruce in particular?”

“I… I like to listen when people talk. Before, it gave me the impression I was part of the family business and not just an accessory, and that way I got to hear bits and parts of the discussions conducted behind closed doors” You began. “More times than not I would hear how Wayne Enterprises projects got in the way of their plans, and how Bruce Wayne would always do something to undermine them legally. So after I stole the intel, there was really one way I was certain would yield results, one person I was certain would have all the interests in the world to see this trial happen”

“That’s…” He trailed off, an impressed expression on his face. “That’s surprisingly smart”

“Surprisingly?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who had no idea how to use a can opener, that is”

You slapped his chest as he let out a laugh; he was so proud of his joke. “Hey, I learned!”

“I know, I know” He chuckled, reaching his hand and brushing a rogue hair strand away from your face. You had noticed as the days passed that he seemed to favor the little touches and the unspoken rather than obvious and obnoxious displays. You knew he was more of the quiet type when he wasn’t arguing with you, always working in his corner and doing his stuff. It hadn’t really changed ever since the gas station moment, but this time he would steal little glances, brush his hand against yours when he’d change gears in the car, or make sure he took out a bowl for you as well when you made your canned soup. “You adapted better than I thought you would, considering the entire lifestyle change you had to go through in the last two weeks”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” You grinned.

“Nope, not at all, princess” He pushed himself on his elbows and leaned down to kiss you. You smiled onto his lips, welcoming the slow movements of him against you. However, you gently pushed him back after a moment, knowing if he had it his way, you’d stay there for hours.

“Jason” You said his name when he was visibly trying to distract you again with butterfly kisses on your jaw, only pausing to give you wide, innocent eyes. Insufferable. “I have to go take a shower”

“I’ll come with” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah” He nodded. “Listen. You hired me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do”

“From what?” You laughed at his serious tone.

“Water’s cold”

“So NOW you want to protect me from the cold water?” You raised an eyebrow. “That surely wasn’t the discourse you held two weeks ago”

“People change, princess” He sighed exaggeratedly before getting up and walking to your side of the bed. “Come on, you said it yourself, you’ve got a shower to take”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted the hand he held out for you. You went to the bathroom and undressed, then managed to get into the relatively small shower, your back to Jason. He was so tall he actually shielded you from the water from the showerhead when he turned the shower on, getting all the burning cold on his back instead.

“See?” He chuckled. “No cold water”

“But how will I wash myself if the water doesn’t get to me?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. He stared blankly at you, like he didn’t think of that.

“Let me worry about it” He dismissed, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright”

He began slowly rubbing your skin with his wet hands, spreading water indirectly. His fingertips were still cold, but you knew for a fact it was slightly better than the direct flow from the tap. Goosebumps erupted all over your arms and back, both from the sudden change of temperature and his touch. You closed your eyes, enjoying the contrast in between the water and his still warm chest. He wet your hair, combing it with his hands, before he put the shampoo in and made it lather. Immediately, you recognized the smell.

“Is this your shampoo?” You asked, your eyes opening.

“Mhh”

“I thought you didn’t like when people used your stuff”

“Technically, I’m using it”

“Still!” You replied. “You practically threatened me last time I dared wear your shampoo”

“Truth is” He leaned in, his lips almost pressed against your ear. “It kinda drove me hog fucking wild to have you prancing around smelling like me”

Your eyes widened and the back of your neck heated enough for you to warm the water dripping down your back. You gulped, unable to answer that as it came as a shock for you that you have had another effect on him aside from pissing him off. He chuckled at your lack of comeback, his hot breath fanning your jaw. He slowly rinsed the soap out of your hair, then began washing your skin. His hands massaged your muscles as they went, making you sigh in contentment. At this point, you had backed so much into him you were just as much subject to the direct contact of the water as him, but you didn’t care.

He trailed small kisses from behind your ears down to your shoulder before pausing there, as if he was hesitant. He lifted his head slightly, and you could see his stare right on you from your peripheral vision.

“I need to tell you something”

You were surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, but you tilted your head to show him you were listening.

“I’m the Red Hood”

You blinked slowly, registering his words. Well, that certainly explained things. You even wondered how you didn’t see it sooner, but now that he mentioned it, it had been rather obvious. “... Congratulations?”

You could feel he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “That’s… That’s all?” He stuttered. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You turned your head to look at him properly. “You saved my life so many times, I am not about to complain how you did it”

“But I did a lot of bad too,” He argued. “Some things that might change your opinion”

“You’re seriously asking me, who comes from a crime family, if I’m okay with you doing crimes?” You deadpanned. His face changed, as if he was reevaluating his entire argument.

“When you put it like this…” He trailed off, nodding. You could however see the relief in his eyes at your acceptance of his double identity. Especially with the kind of job he was doing here with you, you could only imagine how blurred the line in between the two personas must have been at times.

“Why did you tell me?” It was a gentle question, full of wonder as to what pushed him to reveal to you such an important, personal detail about himself. Your hand sneaked up and covered his still on your forearm.

“I thought you should know” He muttered back, his voice barely rising over the noise of the water hitting the shower’s floor. “You never asked what I did before, or how I took care of seven hired guns at the motel. I wasn’t sure if you just avoided it, or…”

“Don’t worry” You interrupted him softly. “Moral compasses are no issues with me”

His lips reached yours under a freezing rain, your bodies numb to anything but each other.

Day 25

A few days ago Jason received a call from Bruce.

The arrests had been made and the trial date had been set. As you had predicted, they tried to keep the relative information about it under wraps so you wouldn’t be aware it was happening. But fortunately, with Bruce’s quiet oversight of the process, he had managed to relay the details on time. You hadn’t been very far from Gotham when the news dropped, but you were still thankful for the heads up. It had given you time to plan your safe return into the boundaries of the city, staying hidden in another one of Jason’s safehouses until the day came for you to be a witness in the trial.

It was now in progress, it had just started some minutes ago. You were staying in an adjacent room that was guarded by people under Bruce’s paycheck, with Jason laying on a couch behind you, looking at his phone while you were getting ready. You were thankful that you had brought a second designer outfit with you, because you weren’t sure your gray t-shirt from Target with the oversized men’s pants you inherited on your first day with Jason would have looked very professional or credible. You did your makeup carefully with the basic products you had, then took a look at yourself in the mirror. You smothered the creases in your blouse and made sure the belt wasn’t twisted in the loops of your slacks, and sighed.

Jason stood up from the couch and walked to you, stopping behind you and sneaking an arm around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and placed a small kiss there. “Am I an asshole for thinking you look better in a 30 bucks outfit?”

You laughed despite your nervous state. He was trying to distract you and you welcomed it. “Not more than usual, no”

He gasped at your rebuttal, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?” He asked. “I’m hurt”

“Aw, come here” You pouted, turning your chin over your shoulder. You raised your arm to rest your hand on his cheek and gently pulled him down into a kiss. Your eyes fluttered close when his lips met yours, letting your relish in his comforting presence. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you sighed against his lips, wishing to remain there with him for another hour or so. Alas, the moment was broken shortly after when the door opened.

“They will soon be--oh”

You pulled back from the kiss, but Jason didn’t move away at the sound of Bruce’s voice behind you. You could feel he was annoyed at his adoptive father ruining the mood, but at least he wasn’t pissed like you had seen he could be on day one. That in itself was a relief.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all” Jason replied in a clearly sarcastic tone. You stifled back a laugh at the grimace he was doing to mock Bruce. “Perfect timing as usual”

Bruce didn’t answer that. He only closed the door behind him and headed for the desk, leaning back on it. Jason followed his movements in the mirror like a hawk.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you aren’t at each other’s throat anymore” He began, a cryptic smile on his lips. “But I hadn’t expected… Whatever this is”

It was Jason’s turn to sigh as he reluctantly parted away from you. He didn’t go far, however. He stayed by your side like another threat on your life could pop up at any moment. “Shocker”

“As I was saying” Bruce reprised, ignoring Jason’s side comment. “They will call you to the stand soon. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you had any questions or concerns before you go out”

“How solid is the case built?” You asked.

“It should hold” He nodded. “From what I’ve seen, it’s solid in front of a jury. Your testimony will have to be conclusive if we want to catch some Maroni members in the lot, but I’m confident you’ll be stellar”

You gave him a small smile. You knew your father would be there, glaring at you like you were the devil itself, but you repeated to yourself you could go through this. There was no way he would be as intimidating as Jason in the first few days, and you came out on the other side unscathered. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, and soon he would reap what he sowed.

“How secure will the witness booth be?” It was Jason who spoke this time, his eyes straight on Bruce like he was challenging him to give an answer that wouldn’t be good enough.

“The two guards in front of this room will accompany her in the courtroom” Bruce replied calmly. “There will also be one more guarding the door, and I supposed you won’t be far as well”

He only hummed in answer, but he seemed satisfied with this plan. Bruce checked his watch and stood up, hands in his pocket.

“It’s time”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. You exited the room with Jason at your side and the guards behind you. You walked down a few hallways before you stopped in front of the witness booth door. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and visualize the end result. You could do this, you could do this.

“Keep your head high, stay confident” Jason muttered in your ear as the door opened in front of you. “You got this, princess”

With his last words of encouragement, you were brought into the courtroom.

Day 101

“... The sentence of the twelve convicted has dropped this morning on the order of judge Monroe, a little less than three months after the devastating trial that landed a blow on organized crime in Gotham. The twelve men will each serve a sentence ranging from twenty to forty years in a maximum security facility, on counts of attempted murders, first degree homicide, money laundering, drug trafficking and tax fraud. Amongst the convicted is Vitto Maroni, a notable figure in Gotham’s public life…”

You jumped when a loud pop dragged your attention away from the TV.

Jason was standing there with a proud grin, pouring foaming sparkling grape juice in two champagne flutes. You laughed as he handed you one, plopping next to you on the couch and clinking his glass on yours.

“Cheers to a victory,” He declared. “that wouldn’t have been possible without you”

“Don’t flatter me too much, give yourself some credit” You matched his grin. “You’re at least 20% responsible for this”

“Ah yes, my 20% contribution” He nodded thoughtfully. “Eighteen percent bullets shot, two percent bullets received I recall”

You laughed with him, drinking the fizzy beverage. He lifted his arm, and you crawled under it to snuggle on his side, careful not to spill anything. It had become a habit for you to end up one way or another in his arms, even after the trial ended. He had offered you to move in with him shortly after, when you had tried to give him the ten thousand dollars you had promised him after the trial. Not only had he refused to even look at it, but he gave you back the 5k you had already given him beforehand. He had insisted for you to keep it and invest in whatever you wanted to turn your life around like you wished.

He had been excited for you when you announced you would enroll in law school, saying your argumentative side would definitely come handy as an attorney.

“I’m proud of you”

You looked up at him to see a fond glint in his eyes, one that made your heart melt. For all of his rough edges, he was certainly very soft inside. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and you couldn’t ask for someone better to start your new life with. You snuggled further into him as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his arm around you.

“Thank you for being there for me” You mumbled through his clothes. “It means a lot”

“I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to, princess” He smiled against your hair. “You are so stuck with me”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere, then”

You changed the channel to a movie and spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, you wearing his t-shirt and shampoo and him holding you like a treasure.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #jason todd #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #red hood x you #outlaws

98 notes · View notes

yellowocaballero · 4 years

Text

Bonus story that I regret already

A friend requested a HLVRAI/Freeman’s Mind/HL crossover. Specifically, them getting drinks, in a pub.

I really hate to spill that I’ve seen all of HLVRAI and Freeman’s Mind, but I figure the cat’s out of the bag. It’s three pages. It’s crack. There will be no continuation. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but tw for ableist language, suggested animal abuse, and suggested slavery. So...that’s how you know Freeman Freeman’s Mind shows up.

God, does anybody remember FM? Am I the only person who remembers FM? Am I having a stroke? Imagine if Freeman’s Mind came out in 2020. There’d be call-out posts.

Enjoy...I think? Rest under the cut.

********************************************

“When you think about it, dog breeding just doesn’t make any sense.”

Thank god. Gordon exhaled in relief. The guy sitting across from him in the dim, crowded pub had finally moved on from his extensive...very extensive...opinions on the IRS. Gordon had desperately tried redirecting the conversation to something more normal, like theoretical physics, or his opinion on multi-dimensional crossovers, but instead the guy just seemed very desperate that everybody know that taxation was theft.

“Right!” Gordon said enthusiastically, just trying to get word in edgewise. He knew he liked to talk, but this guy was ridiculous. “Pugs can’t give birth by themselves. It’s inhumane.”

“Oh, forget about that shit.” The guy waved a hand, burping slightly as he slammed back more of his beer. “What I’m saying is that it’s ridiculous not to train dogs to attack your enemies.”

“I don’t actually have that many -”

But the guy was already ranting, completely talking over Gordon. Pleadingly, Gordon looked at the other guy they were sitting with for help, but he just sat there drinking his beer with eyes distantly fixed on the tacky retro diner signs hung on the wall. Traitor.

“When you think about the entire thing’s stupid. The breed standards are just ridiculous, first off. Breeding dogs so they can’t bite, can’t bark, can’t hunt their own food? It’s stupid. What else is the point of a dog! Anybody around here remember why we breed dogs in the first place? It’s so they can help protect us, protect the pack. Dogs used to pull their own. And now they’re just shitty little lap dogs that rich old ladies use to wealth signal. It’s fucking stupid. Dogs are just freeloaders. And I don’t have any freeloaders in my house.”

“Wow,” Gordon muttered rebelliously, “did you read about that on Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia that anyone can edit?”

“So that’s why I’m proposing my new idea for dogs. A better dog. Dog 2, the sequel to dogs, if you will,” the guy continued, completely steamrolling him. “These dogs are huge, first of all. But not too huge, since you don’t want them to be a drain on your resources. I’d say definitely the size of a St. Bernard, maybe a little bit bigger. I don’t give a shit if it’s friendly to children or whatever. I don’t give a shit about children. If they can’t survive my dog attacking them, they were never going to make it to adulthood anyway. Survival of the fittest. Anyway, my dog’s going to be big. Short hair, because we live in a hot climate and I don’t want a dog that’s shedding everywhere. It’s not exactly going to be a polar rescue dog here, I need a dog that can survive the Arizona desert. But this dog has to be two things, and these two things are completely vital. Without these two things, it might as well be a Pomeranian.” The man held up two fingers. “One: the dog must be completely loyal to me. Intelligent, but not too intelligent that it doesn’t accept me as the alpha. I’m the alpha to the dog, as I’m also the alpha to the human race. Its loyalty must be complete. Like, I say jump, the dog says how high. That’s how intelligent it is too.” He pushed down the finger, keeping one up. “Second, the dog must be a cold blooded attack machine. I ain’t owning no pussy dog here. This dog is vicious. It can kill anything, and it will do it with pleasure. This dog feels no regret, pain, anguish, PTSD, hesitance, and it never fucking misses. Its teeth are huge and it’s an unrestrained attack machine. With this dog at my side, ain’t nobody’s fucking with me. Walking down the street with this dog next to me, nobody’s looking at me sideways. The chicks dig me. Everybody thinks I’m great. That’s why this is the ideal dog, above all other dogs.”

“Wow,” Gordon said desperately, really hoping that this was the end of the fucking dog conversation, “that’s great. My friend, uh, Tommy, he has a great Golden. Says it’s a perfect dog. That’s really possible actually, it survived like six turrets -”

“Idiot. That’s not what I fucking mean.” The guy scoffed at Gordon. “This perfect dog doesn’t exist. No dog is that immaculate. And if you try breeding for all those traits, you end up with some shitty inbred dog. No way. You gotta get more creative. Just wanting the perfect dog is for chumps who don’t understand genetics, evolution, dog breeding, dog training, warfare both physical and psychology, psychology itself, sociology, philosophy, or xenobiology. No. What I’m saying now is that in order to get the perfect dog, you have to breed aliens. I’m thinking headcrabs.”

Gordon distantly felt his jaw dropping. “Head - headcrabs?”

“Or those fucked up things with garbage disposal mouths,” the guy said thoughtfully. “Whatever they’re called. I don’t respect any of those shitty aliens enough to give them names. If you want me to remember your name, you have to earn it. My brain’s filled with much more important things, like theoretical physics and being better than you.”

“Garbage disposal - do you mean peeper puppies?!”

“Yeah, whatever. What I’m saying is that I’ve really cornered the market on xenobiology. I’m the world fuckin’ expert in dealing with aliens.” He looked thoughtful for a second as he chugged his beer again, which was a first. “Well. Dimensional expert. Point is, I can say with eighty seven percent confidence that, given enough time and unlimited access to a shock collar, I can train one of those shitty alien species crawling all over Black Mesa to obey my every command and slay my enemies. I could probably even turn it against its kinsmen. Get the aliens to wipe out the aliens, and humanity comes out on top. Then I turn my alien slaves against humanity, and Gordon Freeman is at top. So what do you think? Good idea or good idea?”

Gordon stared at him, slightly horrified, slightly incredulous, somehow amused. God, he had spent too much time around Benrey. This guy would love Benrey. He could never introduce them. “Terrible idea. I can’t believe we’re the same person.”

“You’re a loser. What about you, huh?” Freeman gestured with his cup at the third Gordon Freeman, who still seemed thoroughly checked out of the conversation. “What do you think? Want to invest some money into my plan? You’ll get a three hundred return on your investment, and dominion of the country of your choice.”

Gordon Freeman stared at Freeman blankly. He seemed really checked out.

Freeman looked back at Gordon. “Is this guy retarded or something? That or he’s high off his ass, but I know how I get when I’m high and I’m never that out of it.”

“I’m not sure you aren’t on coke right now,” Gordon groused, sipping his own margarita. Which Freeman had called a ‘girl drink’. Asshole. “Why don’t you just -”

“Hey, Doc!”

Suddenly, with no more advanced warning than the overly friendly cry, Benrey - sorry, Barney - popped up at their table. Freeman groaned, ignoring him completely for favor of his drink, and Gordon waved weakly at him. He seemed - well, nice. Much nicer than Benrey. Not that it was hard.

“You guys having fun or what?” Barney said, leaning against the table and winking at Freeman, who made a face. “We’re having a really good time at the Barney table, let me tell you. Maybe we can do Trivia Pursuit? That’ll be fun!”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually making friends with Benrey,” Gordon said, sighing. “Dude’s insufferable.”

“Blunt as ever, Doc,” Barney laughed. “Benrey’s not that bad! Just kind of a freak, you know?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, impossibly depressed. “I know.”

“Anyway, I actually wanted to ask the Doc if he had my keys. Hold on a hot second.” Barney turned to the aforementioned zoned out Gordon Freeman, and abruptly started waving his hands around. Wait - was that sign language? When he glanced at Freeman, he seemed interested too.

Even more amazingly, Gordon Freeman responded, rolling his eyes and tilting his fist before digging in his pocket and pulling out his keys, pressing them into Barney’s hands. Barney winked, signed out what Gordon recognized as a thank you, and fucked off back to the Barney table. If Gordon craned his head, he could see Freeman’s Barney (whose name Freeman didn’t even seem to know) trying to drink his beer as he was thoroughly terrorized by Benrey. Gordon couldn’t fight the crush of fondness that bloomed in his chest. Benrey was fun to watch when he was terrorizing someone else - but you could say that about all of his friends, really.

Then the implications of that exchange hit Gordon over the head. He turned to Gordon Freeman, who seemed to have gone back to checking out of the conversation. “Wait, are you freaking deaf?”

Gordon blinked at him sleepily. Gordon cursed, rummaging around on the table until he found a napkin, and Freeman passed him a pen as he wrote down in large, blocky letters ‘ARE YOU DEAF???’ and slid it to Gordon Freeman.

Gordon Freeman stared at it. He looked up at the two of them and - oh, god, he was definitely smirking. Like the cat that caught the fucking canary. He tilted his fist in what even Gordon recognized as a yes.

“You fucking asshole!” Gordon exploded. “You left me to suffer with this guy alone? How could you? That’s not team behavior!”

“You got pranked, bro!” Benrey called, from across the room. “Bro, you got mad pranked! El oh el, bro!”

“Shut up, asshole!”

“Hey, what do you mean?” Freeman asked, offended. “My ideas are genius. This is a unique business opportunity, here. You’ll never get another chance to make three hundred percent back on your investment again -”

“Epic fail, bro!” Benry called.

Gordon groaned and started chugging his margarita. He would need to be a lot drunker if he was going to get through this stupid extradimensional mistake.

#jesus okay time to tag all of this #my writing #hlvrai #hl #half life #freeman's mind #hl fanfic #gordon freeman #benry #barney calhoun #sorry queen isn't in this one #told myself I'd never write benrey and that's still true

70 notes · View notes

yeetustoafetus · 3 years

Text

Hey! I'm Jay! And I've been dead for a while! I recently discovered WayneradioTV's "Half-Life VR but the AI is Self Aware" and I've become obsessed. I have also just become obsessed with the Half-Life series in general. All content is good content, Freeman's Mind, Gorgeous Freeman, the games, I don't care, feed me content. So, anyway, here's a fanfic I wrote at 3 am over the span of two days. Enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Trigger/Content warning: Shouting/yelling, blood, swearing, mentions of slurs but none are said.

Word count: 1,845

Fandom(s) mentioned: Freeman's Mind, HLVRAI, Gorgeous Freeman, and The Half Life series.

Freeman's Mind belongs to Ross Scott

HLVRAI belongs to WayneradioTV

Gorgeous Freeman belongs to Antoine Delak

The Half Life series belongs to Valve and associates

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A dull thunk of his skull against plated metal woke him up, his eye groggy. He glanced around with a frown, taking in his surroundings. The orange plate metal, the destroyed experiment… He knew where he was. He didn’t want to admit it, though. He smacked his hand into his forehead, the metal of his glove ripping a small hole into his forehead. He grumbled, wiping the spouting crimson from his skin

“Man, this fucking blows. I want to go back to Massachusetts.” He grumbled, standing up shakily. “Ugh, my.. Fucking head. Feels like college..” He muttered coldly. Dried blood, some his own, and some from other creatures, stuck in dried clumps throughout his beard and hair. A bloodied, now scabbed over, chunk of flesh had been ripped from the right side of his face, the eye having blurred to a dirty crimson days before. Most of his right ear had also been ripped off by a turret. A few guns hung from his beaten metal suit, bits and pieces having been chipped away. The pieces that remained hung from his figure by some kevlar and rubber. A rocket Launcher was strapped to his back, the weight offering him some unforgiving aches and pains. And here he was, trapped at ground zero once more. He hadn’t the faintest idea how he ended up back in the chamber he had begun this nightmare, but it wasn’t a welcome sight when he woke up. He blinked a few times and rubbed at his seeing eye, the vision going blurry for a minute before it cleared, showing him the blinding orange of the room once more. He groaned loudly, like a child being told to clean, before pulling his crowbar from the strap across his back. He’d have to do this the old fashioned way.

He walked around the chamber aimlessly, searching for anything, a loose side plate to pry up to get out, or a weak bit of the wall he could break through with his crowbar. After 3 minutes, he had found nothing. He growled and kicked the cart that had once contained the pure sample.

“GODDAMMIT!” He shouted, grabbing his crowbar and smacking it hard into the cart. “WHY IS THIS MY RESPONSIBILITY?! WHY AM I HERE?! GAAAH!” He screamed in frustration, punching the metal plated wall. He shouted in pain, hot tears pricking his eyes as a loud crack rang through the room. He threw his body against the wall and collapsed, grabbing his injured wrist.

“Motherfucker… I’m going to kill someone! I’m gonna fucking kill someone!” He banged his uninjured fist against the metal, the loud clang filling the room. He smacked his head back against the wall and groaned loudly. “Let me the fuck out of heeerrreee.” He droned loudly, almost sounding bored. “You fucking pussies keep me here because you’re scared!” He shouted, climbing to his feet. He smacked his crowbar against the walls once again, shouting unintelligible words mixed with a colorful vocabulary of slurs. He finally quit when he realized he was really alone.

“This is bullshit, man.” He growled, sitting against the wall again. He shook his head and let out a primal scream. Not of pain, more of frustration, anger. All of the feelings that had been bubbling since this shitshow had started. This was torture, and it was about to be even worse as he was left to die in a fully sealed room, alone. No one but himself for company. That’s what he had wanted, right?

...Right?

No, he could have guessed that after the third day of sitting alone in a broken lab. He had tried to pass the time by hitting the portal. Maybe that would bring something up, a beam of electricity to destroy the blast doors, maybe? He gave up on that when the crowbar shot back at him after a hard strike, cutting deep into the flesh of his shoulder. Just his luck that his suit had given out right there. He shouted in pain and dropped the metal bar, grabbing the quickly bleeding wound, as if covering it with his hand would stop the ooze of crimson. The blood stained the orange metal of his gloves, drips of the liquid falling to the floor.

“Mother fucker… You stupid mother… fucker..” He muttered, falling back against the wall and sighing as he clenched his fists. “...God..” He muttered. His vision went red and his anger exploded, “...GOD DAMMIT!” He shouted, throwing the crowbar as hard as he could. “YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER! I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOUR PARENTS!” He screamed. “YOU’RE FUCKING NOTHING, I’M GORDON FUCKING FREEMAN, I SHOULDN’T BE IN HERE! LET ME OUT!!” He shouted, throwing himself into a run, launching himself into the door. “YOU FUCKING WHORES, LET ME OUT!!!” He banged his fists on the door, kicking and shouting at it. All of a sudden, the doors outside of the blast doors blew open, and in stumbled 3 men, all donning some variation of the suit he had. He glared out of the windows in the blast doors before a booming voice came over the loudspeakers.

“Gordon. Freeman. Please step. Away from the. Door.” The voice rang around the room. “Like hell I’ll take orders from you!” He shouted, glancing around. “Let me out!” He demanded.

“Gordon. Freeman. Please step. Away from the. Door, Now.” The voice repeated. He growled and crossed his arms. “Why should I? What are you gonna do about it, bitch?” He shouted. As soon as the words left his lips, a dart was shot into his neck. He yelped, grabbing at the prick in his neck. It was too late for it anyway, the tranquilizer had already begun pumping through his veins, his heightened heart rate not helping at all. He collapsed in a matter of moments, the heavy metal suit clanging to the floor with his limp body being dragged down with it. The blood from his shoulder painted the orange metal. After the disembodied voice was sure he was done, they allowed the three other men in, slamming the blast door behind them.

The men had been walking around the chamber quietly, inspecting it as the other man was passed out. One of them was quietly muttering to himself, more nervously than anything. One of the men was completely silent, peering around the room silently. The last one had a smug grin on his face the whole time, checking himself out in the reflection of the beaten metal. They all looked over in tandem as the waking man groaned, blinking quietly as he awoke. He looked around quietly, catching one of the men in his view. “...Who the fuck are you?” He grumbled at him. The man in question was tall, but rounder in some areas, a dad body as many would suggest. His skin was darker than the man who had spoken, most likely a mixed heritage. His hair was curly and was tied into a ponytail, streaks of gray running through the dark brown locks. His beard was a bit longer than Gordon’s, and his glasses had a crack through the lens. The other men in the room had similar features, each of them donning a beard and glasses. “Who.. Who the fuck are you?” He muttered to the men, going to stand up before almost falling again. “D-dammit..” He growled. One of the men stepped forward to help Gordon get footing but he batted him away. “Don’t touch me! Who are you?! Answer my questions!” He demanded from the three. The taller one stepped forward and cleared his throat. “I’m Gordon Freeman. I don’t know how I got here, And I have no clue who these two are.” He gestured to the silent one and the one checking himself out. The first Gordon barked out a laugh. “I know I look awesome, but you don’t gotta pretend to be me!” He smirked, but the other Gordon just raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean. I am Gordon Freeman, I’m not kidding.”

The first man frowned. “I’m not fucking slow, dude. Just admit it, What’s your name?” The other man frowned. “I don’t think this is very funny, bro. Who are you?” He pointed at the silent one. “You. What’s your name?” The man looked him up and down silently before holding his hands up slightly. ‘My name is Gordon Freeman.’ He signed, looking between the three. Two of them stared at him like he had just grown 3 heads. He sighed quietly, this was going to be hard. He was going to try and translate before the one who hadn’t joined the conversation yet, the vain one, chimed in. “He said his name was Gordon Freeman as well.” The other three looked over to him.

‘You can read signs?’ The silent one signed again. He nodded and looked over at the other two men. “I guess I’m the only one with a different name?” He frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Gorgeous Freeman. In the flesh.” The other three stared at him like he was an alien, and the frown etched deeper into his cheeks. “Whatever. You three seem to have a.. Naming situation. I might have an idea.” He nodded, smirking like a jackass.

“Oh my god- Get on with it.” The first Gordon growled. Gorgeous held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, calm your tits. You can be… Freemind. Because you clearly have one of those.” He muttered, earning a growl from Freemind. “Let’s see… You.” He pointed to the taller, rounder Gordon. “Where were you before this?” He asked. “I.. was with a group of scientists.. And a security guard.” He answered, figuring specifics weren’t needed.

“Coolio. So… I guess you could be...Hm.” He thought silently. “...What’s something people called you?”

“Uh… The security guard called me a lot of things, mostly Gordon Feetman, but-” “Great, that’s your name.” Gorgeous cut him off with a smile. Feetman tried to protest, but he was blatantly ignored. “And you can be Freeman.” He pointed at the mute Gordon. He thought for a few seconds before giving him a thumbs up. “Great! We got names sorted. Now… How-”

“There’s no way out.” Freemind muttered, crossing his arms. “I’ve been trying for 3 days, this room is built like it’s meant to take a damn missile.” “Well, you’ve never met me.” Gorgeous smirked, nudging Freemind. It earned him a rough thwack to the side of his head. “Rude..” He muttered, walking over to the blast doors. He looked around and spied the crowbar that had been thrown. He picked it up, admiring it for a few seconds before shoving the sharp end between the doors. The other 3 watched silently as Gorgeous, with all of the strength in his body, forced the blast doors open. He turned back to Freemind with an asshole smirk. “I’ll wait for my applause.” “You’ll be waiting a while, then.” Freeman grunted, walking past him. Gorgeous shrugged and followed after him, Feetman and Freeman tailing behind slightly. And they were off.

#hlvrai #freemans mind #gorgeous freeman #half life #gordon freeman #gordon freemind

16 notes · View notes