#Rip Ross I guess :/

[keter-class-anomaly]

Joe Hawley attacks

Ooooo, finally sharing some of my artwork. Expect more of that It’s supposed to be Joe Hawley in the second episode of Tally Hall’s internet show.

[luvjunie]

Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

[pickupthephoneboy]

*as Ross approaches the grave yard he sees a familiar raven haired girl, Scarlett is not in her normal uniform, she is in a crop top and black ripped pants, and military boots. While she is in excellent shape she looks thin*

@blackdoveoftime

*Ross made sure to watch where he was stepping, trying to not disrespect any of the graves. He stands by Scarlett.*

"I guess this is where General Storm was buried huh?"

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Two

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: hi… I’m back? Idk if anyone noticed I dipped lmao, but! Back with another update of this fic and it’s a deep one, left off on uneven ground last time so here’s me clearing that up:) sort of.

Warnings: emotions. <maybe not needed but like, lots of emoting so. Quite a few references to Matty’s past, drug-use/overdosing, previous acts of slight violent and the usual stuff w him and this fic I guess (all mentions are brief)

ALSO back and forth changes of pov between Mouse and Matty so keep an eye out x

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Thing was, waking up had never come very easily to Matty. Even as a longtime insomniac.

Sleep came and went in staggered stages. He struggled with falling into it and then struggled with staying there in that languid state. It was almost as though his body was held prisoner by his mind and the thoughts which seemed to forever war there.

The drugs had fixed that, mostly. Stopped his heart. His lungs. And then finally, his brain. Leaving him in this tranquil haze, floating somewhere in between everything and nothing, muting those militant thoughts, blanketing his rampage of never-ending emotions. 

It was the numbness that he had craved. The nothing.

By the time he’d been shipped off to his first stint in rehab, he was utterly clueless as to just how terrifying it could all seem without it. What with the crutch no longer there. Reckoned he still had scabs that wouldn’t properly heal from all the time he’d spent scratching in that tiny box room they’d given him. Never really sleeping and only ever blinking awake. 

It sort of felt like that now. Opening his eyes to find that the world had tilted sideways once again, the wall slanted and the television opposite morphed longways. He sniffed, feeling the heaviness that immediately encompassed his head as he fought to force himself up onto his elbows.

It was quick, the sudden pressure that ripped through the joints, and he hissed as he peered down to find that the skin had been shred to bits, now blotted with flakes of rusted blood that had to have come from the night before.

“Here.”

Matty blinked blearily, swallowing around a lump in his throat before casting his eyes up slowly to find a glass being shoved towards him. He took it, skin prickling at the sudden chill he was met with and face scrunching up in distaste. 

He didn’t move to take a sip though, even with how dry his mouth then seemed, instead rubbed at his tired eyes before he dropped his hand completely to find Ross already settled on the adjoining armchair. Matty realised a beat too late that he must’ve passed out on the man’s settee, just as a forlorn feeling settled somewhere in his stomach, the evident reminder of the promise he’d been given the morning before hitting him.

‘You can even head back here after if you want.’

He’d wanted. He was forever wanting when it came to her. But he could hardly even recall making it through Ross’s front door, let alone contacting her at any point last night. Brow furrowing over how much he would have had to have drunk. 

“Time’s it?” Matty forced himself to ask, voice more guttural than he was used to, grogginess seeping into the edges of it as he settled himself a little better on the settee. He took a small sip of the water, testing the weight it would leave in his lead filled stomach before taking a couple more larger gulps. He settled it down on the console beside him after and then chanced another glance over at Ross, who looked as much a state as Matty felt. “Hm?” He tacked on when he was met with a bland look.

“Just gone one.”

Matty’s brows shot up at that, before he slumped further into the settee cushions. His head now ached something awful and he felt flushed to fuck, sweat causing the back of his tee to stick to the curve of his spine. “Shit.” He muttered unhappily, the familiarity of a migraine already setting in.

The word was met by a drawl chuckle. And look- Matty had known Ross for far too fucking long not to automatically hone into the odd quirks or reactions the bloke tended to favour, which was why he was already frowning when he squinted back over at him.

Ross had since turned his head against the back of the armchair, enough so that Matty could now see the darker sheen that sat beneath his lidded eyes whilst Ross’s gaze flickered over him. He didn’t say a word, merely chucked Matty’s own phone his way.

Feeling his forehead pinch, Matty forced himself to grit his teeth against the flare of pain that shot through his ankle when the thing purposefully missed his open hand and hit the bone of his ankle. “Fuck’s wrong with you?” He snarled at the oversized twat, picking the poxy thing up before rubbing at the offended joint.

Matty wasn’t offered up much of an answer though, what with Ross silently shaking his head at him. So he rolled his eyes in addition, lifting a finger up towards his face to rub at an eyelid before he finally managed to flip his phone the right way around and get a good look at it.

[HOMESCREEN]13:02

News 21 mins ago Back on a bender, Healy?The 1975 frontman was spotted out last night in an argument which quickly escalated and ruined a certain band member's birthday celebrations…

Twitter 28 mins ago Topic - music@/The1759: Matty captured in a deal gone wrong down in London?? Nahhhhh we all saw the relapse coming but this is just insaneeee...

BBC News - UK & World Stories 43 mins ago Matty Healy takes family bonding to whole new levels Hit singer spotted with girlfriend's son in an altercation whilst out in London earlier this month!

Messages 1hr ago Hann Ring me when you see this

The Independent 12:09 Singer, to the international band known as The 1975, was seen multiple times over the coming weeks in a variety of altercations that hinder his so-called sobriety, one of which was pictured and also witnessed by the young son of the frontman’s most recent fling. ‘Mouse’ as dubbed by her radio show, MouseOnAMic, has yet to comment on the behaviour concerning both her boyfriend and child, we continue…

News 11:44 This is how it starts! Matty Healy’s road back to rehab? Police were called in to break up a celebratory party held on the stretch of Soho in the early hours of this morning. Many faces were pictured amongst the masses, but most noticeably was singer Matthew Healy of The 1975, who was seen outside of a nearby club arguing with another man holding a bag..

Had you ever felt the floor just slip out from under you? 

Or maybe even the way that the Earth seemed to suddenly stop spinning, enough so that you could feel every little thing that was happening inside of your body? 

The swell of oxygen being forced out of your lungs. 

The rush of blood attempting to find the place of impact, susceptible to the sudden pain that’s been felt. 

Or even, the pulsing beat of every desperate squeeze your heart made in the very tips of your fingers?

There was a sudden sickness that clawed at the cage that bound Matty's chest together, thickening the walls of his throat and heavy enough that he had to inhale so deeply that the air demanded the bile to retreat back, back, back... Until his gut was the only thing churning and all he’d been left with as the most bitter aftertaste.

It was everywhere. Plastered all over Twitter, mentioned in every news outlet around for miles. Just there. Taking up the screen of his phone- and every other fuckers- without so much as a warning. Pictures, stories, accusations…

Evidence, a part of his twisted mind whispered.

But it was. A trail of wrongdoings which had led right back to that very day he’d spent with Teddy.

Teddy- 

God, how the fuck could he have been this mindless? This fucking blind. How had he messed up so badly?

It didn’t feel immediate, the way he moved to grapple his phone, scrolling in search of her name, for her contact, but it was. It was just instinctive. Thoughtless, how suddenly overwhelming the need to hear her voice was. To make sure that she was alright. Not wondering over whether she’d still be there waiting for him- no matter how heavy that thought now weighed on his dreaded mind. He simply needed her to be alright. And for Teddy to be none the wiser. For him to be okay. Just okay.

He remembered bits and pieces. It was slowly coming back now. An old face. Being offered something or other. He’d refused. He remembered he told the guy no. He’d been tempted, fuck had he been so tempted. But he knew better. Deep down. And he remembered saying no. Remembered pieing the guy off, having a light laugh, backing away. But then there had been a throw of hands, a split lip, the ringing crack of a jaw that had made his mind spin with flashbacks of Luke. Of the roof. Of his face hitting the cold empty pavement.

Matty could vaguely recall shouts and calls. George’s wide eyes. Ross’s hands gripping his arms. Hann already on the phone.

Tempted.

He’d been tempted.

It was that thought which played on an endless loop in his head whilst the ring of his phone echoed out into an otherwise silent room.

A flash of faces rattled across the forefront of his mind; expressions, voices, the need to please, a need to entertain.

She didn’t answer. The line went dead.

So he tried again.

Then a third time.

“Fuck.” Matty muttered breathlessly to himself, the panic in his voice breaking up the quiet that stretched between one ring and then the next.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t answer.

–

Thing was, I’d always known it had been coming. As pessimistic as I was.

But hope was a fickle fucking thing. It made me cut the tip of my tongue on the front of my teeth to keep from ruining perfect moments with thoughtless words. It found its way into the little things I had done and still did. It allowed me just a second to smile, for no other reason than simply being. Than belonging.

Because that was what hope did.

It was also the very thing which had forced me to let my guard down, for those walls of mine to slip. It had granted him entrance into the life I’d so steadily built for myself on rocky foundations and borrowed time. 

It had broken me so easily and effortlessly. Wrapped me up in nothing but an empty pang of regret that rang out for miles and miles.

I stared blankly up at the ceiling laid out above me, counting down the minutes until Teddy finally woke once more. Only this time it would be from the sun rising up over the overpass, rather than his mum slipping in to curl up beside him in the early hours of the morning when it had all grown too much. Her need to know that he was okay, her helpless guilt and the pain which had felt all-consuming.

I wondered over the times Matty had been in here with him, putting Teddy to sleep, laughing together, telling him drawn out stories and singing old melodies. I wondered what he’d been thinking in those dotted moments. If he’d been thinking anything at all.

I questioned how stupid I had to have been, how blind to not have seen it. The lies, because he'd done it so effortlessly. The web he had spun, just in an attempt to deceive me. All laid out before my fucking eyes. And he hadn’t even had the decency to tell me to my face. No, instead I’d had to watch it all unfold alongside the rest of the world.

My tongue licked over my lower lip which had since been bitten raw, having dragged it between my teeth in both panic and pity. Because even though I was angry, a bigger part of me still cared. Still continued to worry. Because oh, how I worried. And wasn’t that the most depressing part?

Here I was, concerned about him, whilst he was out doing whatever, fucking whoever, taking whatever. I’d seen the fucking pictures. I’d seen them all. Scrolled and scrolled until I’d come up to the last fuck-off headline. Until his face had morphed into somebody else, and then someone else’s after that.

The reasonable half of me, the half I was attempting to stamp down and drown out, also knew that what you saw online wasn’t always what it appeared. But still, it looked too much like my biggest fucking fear being brought to life to care enough. I simply wished to have him here, so that he could either explain himself to me or so that I could use him as an object to simply scream at. To rally against.

Because I couldn’t believe he’d gone and done the very thing I'd been so terrified of. That he had done it, and that he then had lied to me. That he had chosen to drag my fucking son into it. Into his fucking mess of a life! After-

After everything I’d given to him.

The thought made me question how much I was worth. How easily I could be tossed aside and shit all over.

A hand tightened around my wrist then and my tired eyes startled over to where a matching set now peered right back at me. Though these eyes were accompanied by a sleep filled smile and not haunted like mine.

I reached up to run a hand through Teddy’s soft curls, thumb brushing over his hairline before it trailed its way down the slope of his tiny nose. “Morning, lovely.”

My chest tightened at the hold Teddy found on my arm then, tucking himself up under it so that he could bury his face into the crook of my neck, those little hands of his coming up to clutch at the fabric of my shirt. I chuckled softly, unable to do much else with the surprise that coursed through me, and hugged him back.

“You okay?” I murmured into his hair, pecking the crown of his head and willing the tightness in my throat to go away. I wouldn't cry, not now.

“Sleepy.” Teddy answered me and I felt him smile against my skin when I chuckled quietly, dragging him even closer to me.

“You know what? Me too.”

His little hand started to gently pat my back then and it broke my heart that little bit more, “Stay here, ‘kay? Keep sleepin’.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, enough so that I was too scared to even speak, so instead I merely nodded, hoping that he’d feel it and somehow know.

“‘Kay.” He repeated after a moment in a hushed whisper, fingers clutching at the back of my shirt, “Love you.”

I bit down on my tongue hard enough to warrant some bleeding, the taste of bitter metal slowly filling my mouth whilst I willed myself to be strong. To not cry, not in front of him. Never in front of him.

“Love you too, baby.”

–

He’d wanted to go charging over there.

Mid panic-attack, itching for a drink, or a fucking fix. Fucking anything to keep his mind from imploding the way it currently was.

He wanted.

He so desperately wanted.

He’d shucked on his boots without much thought, paying heedless wonder to Ross’s words, his desperate attempts to get him to listen. ‘Cause it was all for nought.

His chest burned with a fearsome ache that could light pyres. It was all that he could focus on to get him through the front door of Ross’s flat and out into the hallway. There was only one other door on his floor, on the far end. Though it was empty, Ross having bought it out, loaded enough now to not have to fret about futile things like neighbours. 

“Matt! For fucks sake, Matty!” Matty heard Ross stress before fingers were catching around his upper arm, the grip too tight, too overwhelming, stopping him in his stride.

Not even thinking Matty wrenched himself away, hard enough that it put a good distance between him and the bassist, pinking the skin of his bicep. His mind was working overtime, tick tick ticking. He was overstimulated and buzzing with an unfound energy that wasn’t unlike a bout of withdrawal shakes.

“The fuck happened last night?”

The sound of his own voice surprised him, forced his shoulders up and his gaze to widen, to hone in on the only other occupant that took up the narrow hall.

“What the fuck happened, Ross!” Matty demanded again, stomper now, inching slowly back over towards Ross and the still swinging door he’d just torn open. 

Ross was staring back at him, reminiscent of days Matty had spent denying his ever increasing drug use, or the multiple overdose scares they'd been forced through. Matty could feel his pulse jumping beneath his skin now, hands shaking to the rhythm of it, but he could not for the life of him take a breath, so focused on Ross and his unmoving form until-

“What didn’t happen, Matty?”

The sting came then. Not just the metaphor for the way Ross’s words had gone and slapped him across the face, no, the sting that threatened to close his throat and wet his eyes. What didn’t happen.

“I need to know, Ross. ‘Cause my head-” Matty raised a trembling hand, dragging the limb down over his face before he was just stood there shaking his head, “It’s fucked. My head's fucked and I, I can’t. I can't remember even getting here. Can’t remember leaving that fucking club or fucking curling up on your sofa! I don’t know what could have happened for me to have fucked up this much.”

A long pause dragged between them then, Ross watching him like an injured stray he wasn’t sure whether or not to lure closer and take home. Whilst the hallway continued on in its stoney silence, not a peep being heard from anyone or anything, only allowing Matty’s hard and fast breaths to break it up and echo out along the walls. Taunting him.

“You didn’t take anything.”

It was both the worst and best thing Ross could have said. Matty’s shoulders slumped with the weight of it and he dipped his head down between the bones of his collar in lieu of an answer. He hadn’t taken anything. But, maybe if he had then there would be a fucking excuse, a way to annul all of his shitty actions. The choices which had inevitably led him here.

“You didn’t take anything,” Ross repeated after antoher stretch of time, eyes flickering back and forth over Matty’s sad face, “but you did fuck off for a while after. Found you slurring and pissed beyond belief down some back alley of another club a mile off. You,” He paused there- stuttered with uncertainty in truth, but Matty fixed him with a terrified look, whole body ceasing with it. “You were with some girl, Matt. She was as gone as you but she said she’d only wanted to help.”

A girl.

Right.

Right, yeah, no that made sense. He’d gotten drunk, she’d just stepped in to help. He, he wouldn’t have-

“And that’s it? You’re sure?”

Ross continued to stare back at him for a second or two, then his body slumped with a sigh, “I don’t know, Matty.”

“You don’t know?” Was his incredulous retort, “What the fuck am I meant to do with that, Ross? Did anything fucking happen or not?” Matty demanded, thoughtlessly taking another step closer. Ross, true to his nature, didn’t move away, merely stood his ground.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Ross reiterated with a sharp edge, as close as he’d ever get to shouting Matty knew. “You’re the only one who was, Matty. You go figure it out.”

Matty scoffed angrily, fisting his trembling hands at his side before they could lash out. “Yeah, and how’d you figure I do that then, hey?”

Ross took a breath, hand coming up to rub at his tired face. He shrugged and Matty could see just how exhausted he seemed with everything, with him. “All I know is you’d worked yourself up into a right state before you did your vanishing act, mate. Said something about Teddy, then about messing things up. I tried to talk some sense into you, I mean, we all did. But man, you were hellbent on fucking it all up completely.”

Ross’s throat bobbed and he looked off to the side, out of a nearby window that showcased the looming clouds above, before his gaze trailed back over to Matty’s defeated form.

“One second you were there, and the next you were gone.”

Matty couldn’t seem to find a reply to that.

Could only stand there. Questioning what the fuck he’d gone and done.

…

Hours passed, and then days.

Matty spent each minute trying to right his wrongs, to figure it all out. He’d called, he’d texted constantly. Basically barraged her with the little he had left to give. But heard nothing in return.

Hann had turned up in search of him later that afternoon he’d woken up round Ross’s and his entire life had been shot to shit. The man had practically boxed him back inside the flat and out of the hallway, forcing him to hole up there until the storm he’d created outside died down.

Not that it was much use. The storm only grew, more stories coming out, people stepping forward with fake tales and photoshopped pictures. Ross promised to talk to Mouse for him, but the most he’d been able to manage was an argument with Adi. Which hadn’t worked out all that well for Matty either as it turned out, seeing as how that had only proved to sour Ross’s already shitty mood, eventually putting the two of them on the outs.

Hann had tried too, attempting to contact Squeaks directly instead of through her mate. But had also come up with nothing. He’d been muttering away on the phone to Jamie since though, and Matty knew out of the five of them, it was probably him that Mouse would say something to. So Matty was avoiding him like the sodding plague, which was all too easy to do now that his phone was shattered to bits from a spiteful reaction to yet another unanswered call. 

He knew Jamie would tell it to him straight, see. That Mouse could just as easily end things through him properly rather than face to face, that’s if things hadn’t already ended between them.

So day three and Matty was basically bouncing off the walls, having already raided what little alcohol Ross kept in his flat the previous day and worked his way through the last of the smokes Adam had dropped round a couple hours before.

He was ticking with the need to move. To fucking escape the flat he’d been confined to.

He’d also had yet to hear from G either.

Which, Matty couldn’t lie was surprising. So when he wasn’t trying to talk his way out of the flat or make plans to set things straight between him and Squeaks, he was prying Ross and Hann for answers.

Not that it was worth the effort. Neither said a thing. Or well, they’d said the same thing, repeatedly. ‘He’s just busy.’

Busy his pasty fucking arse. If George was anything, it was a decent fucking mate. Even when Matty had messed up time and time again, he’d been there. Fucking found him that last time he’d been face down and coughing on his own bile, hadn’t he? G always came through.

Just not now, it seemed.

Matty’s head snapped up at the sound of the front door opening and immediately jumped up off the settee to round the corner to see just who it was. Then was all too quick to reel back, shaking his head in utter dismay as he walked his way back across the living room and out onto the balcony.

He heard a sigh sound behind him just as he wrenched open the door. “Matty...”

“I’m not doing this today.”

Matty threw himself down onto one of the deck chairs that had probably come with the place and cursed at the feel of dampness that instantly seeped its way into the burrowed joggers he wore. He tutted, sitting forward in the seat and reaching down to see that the chair hadn't managed to keep itself shielded from last night's rain. “Fuck sake.” He muttered under his breath but didn’t make a move to stand, figured he’d probably sat in worse.

He didn’t look back over either when the sliding door opened again and Jamie stepped on out to join him, though he did hollow his cheeks in irritation when said man tossed a pack of cigarettes into his lap and situated himself against the glass railing. “Gonna talk now?”

Matty merely opened the pack up, chucking the cellophane somewhere to the left of him and shaking two out. He stuck one between his lips and put the other back in upside down. Stretching out a hand, he used the other to tuck the pack into the band of his joggers, and then forced a snide smile when Jamie ultimately handed him his lighter. 

Two clicks and it was lit, he didn’t spare the man the favour of handing it back to him though, simply tossed it onto the end of the deck chair.

Jamie sighed once more, but Matty figured the older man was more than used to his ever changing emotions by now. Still, he knew he was acting the prick. It was just easier to be a prick and push Jamie away, than let the man fucking hurt him first. Not that he even would, it was just- Mouse, weren't it? Mouse and Jamie were mates, they spoke. They’d been fucking mates before even Matty had thought to even snag her number, before he’d attempted to even try to rid himself of the picture of her his mind had held onto. Jamie would tell it to him straight.

“She’s fuming.”

See?

Matty’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, catching on the front of his teeth and relieving the words with a sharp, albeit subtle sting. He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering quickly over to Jamie and then away again. “Like, bad?”

Jamie scoffed out a humourless chuckle and so in turn, Matty scowled, flicking the remnants of his fag ash out before turning to place the glare on the man.

“Yeah, as in on a scale from one to fucking ten, how pissed is she?”

With a heavy inhale- as though the question had been oh so demanding- Jamie looked up at the cloudy sky before eventually trailing his eyes back down again. “I don’t know.” Matty shook his head irritably, but Jamie just continued on, “But what I do know is that she’s messed up over it. Almost as bad as you, from the looks of it.”

And didn’t that just have Matty’s mind going down in a tailspin. He balled a hand up against his right thigh, letting his nails bite into the skin of his palm whilst his unblinking eyes casted themselves out onto the foggy sky rise of London.

A short scuffle sounded and then Jamie was sitting in the chair beside him, though he’d seemingly had the foresight to wipe it dry first. “Look, mate, it’s bad. But if you’ve done nothing wrong, then it’s something you can fix.”

“Nothing wrong?” Matty scoffed, the tick of his jaw keeping him from taking another drag of his cigarette. “Everything I do is wrong, man.” He let his head drop into his hand at that, the tremble of it more prominent now than it had ever been, “I can’t fix it, J. How can I? The fuck would I even start?”

The chill of the city air crawled up over the thin tee that covered Matty's shoulders, wrapping him up in it, but he could hardly feel a thing past the blur of thoughts that crowded the inside of his mind. Still, he shivered, jumping ever so slightly when Jamie’s hand came to settle on the top of his neck.

“Matty, listen to me.”

And that didn't help.

“All I’ve been doing is fucking listening! Listened to Hann, listened to pissin' Ross. Listened when they said not to go charging over there, to give her time, to give her fucking space! But they were wrong. If-” Matty hissed, rubbing at the sting that had settled behind his eyes, rubbing them raw, “If only I could explain! If I could just talk to her. I only want to make sure that she’s alright. To see her for myself.”

The breath of Jamie’s next sigh got swept up in the wind but Matty felt it all the same, but then the man’s hand tightened its hold on his shoulder and he felt Jamie dip his head in a gentle nod.

“I’ll work something out, yeah?”

And with those five words Matty’s head was snapping up, watery eyes honed in on his managers ageing face as though it held all the fucking hope in the world. And at that moment it fucking felt as though it did. Or it could have done.

“Yeah? Don’t fucking say it and then fall through on me, J. I can’t deal with that shit right now.” Matty told the man almost desperately, chest rising and falling aimlessly as he stared back at him.

Jamie simply chuckled, bracing himself with a smile. “When have I ever fallen through on you lot?”

[storiesofsvu]

A Thin Line

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, some medical situations (again, likely some inaccuracies, don't come for me), minor mentions of the Lauren arc/past trauma/anxiety, but mainly fluff and all happy ending! Covers a bingo square for @prentiss-theorem and also is a fix it fic (i guess lol) for s7e15 of the same title. I just thought things were kinda brushed over in the aftermath.... so here we are.

The team had been in San Bernardino, California for nearly a week now solving what was originally thought to be a series of home invasions linked to gangs in the area. It was after piecing together the threads and a victim getting away that you were able to apprehend the unsub, the team was split up between addresses, Rossi, Reid and Hotch over at the unsubs while Morgan, JJ, Emily and you were heading to Councilwoman Hillary Ross’, knowing that she was one of two next likely targets.

Everything seemed to be going to plan as Derek and JJ snuck around to the back of the house, waiting only on you and Em to burst through the front as Emily announced herself, calling out into the house at just the wrong moment. Her eyes darted toward the unsub, noting the gun in his hand, pointed directly at her and only a second later she felt the burning in her shoulder, jolting back into the wall behind her as she groaned.

“Shit!”

“You’re hit.” You stalled, turning back to her and she nudged you in the direction of the unsub.

“I’m fine!”

“He’s upstairs!” You called over to the other two who had burst through the back door, flying up the stairs to take the unsub down.

“Go.” Emily urged, wincing as your hand came up to the injury, pressing against the wound.

“Like hell I’m going anywhere right now.” You muttered, tugging at your radio to call for medics.

“I said I’m fine.” She insisted, nudging at you once more, “you can go.”

“It’s already two on one, I’m sure they’re doing great. And you’re not fine, you just took a bullet Emily.” You could feel her blood slowly seeping in between your fingers, you would’ve been worried if it wasn’t for the amount of attitude you were getting from her, the scowl persistent on her face.

“It’s nothing.” She grumbled, letting out an annoyed sigh at the flashing lights outside as the ambulance pulled up, “oh come on.”

“You’re gonna need stitches at the bare minimum, c’mon.” Gently lifting her arm over your shoulder you helped her outside and to the paramedics.

Much to Emily’s dismay, she was told she would likely need more than just stitches, that an actual doctor would have to take a look at her before making the official decision and before she knew it she was being transported to a hospital. Even more annoying was that her adrenaline was starting to wear off, the fight or flight draining from her body as the pain began to creep in. She winced as she moved on the stretcher, letting out a quiet hiss and felt her cheeks flushing as your gaze shot to her, concern in your eyes.

“We’re almost there.” You murmured softly, reaching to squeeze her hand, almost surprised at the way her hand wrapped around your thumb, keeping you there instead of letting you pull away. The touch brought a comfort Emily needed but wasn’t ready to ask for, wasn’t ready to admit she even wanted. Her gaze remained turned away from you as she let out a low breath, trying to will the immense pain in her shoulder to go away.

The emergency room was a cacophony of noises, patients crying, yelping out, doctors, paramedics and nurses calling out to each other, demanding what they needed for their cases, alarm bells going off, phones ringing off the hook, the whir and beeping of machines. It was completely overstimulating and enough to block out the pain Emily was feeling briefly while they rolled her through the admittance stages. Your hand had been ripped away from hers as they’d unloaded her from the ambulance, leaving a cold spot on her skin as she tried to block out her surroundings. The lights were bright, still harsh even if she closed her eyes, she felt someone prodding at her skin as they started an IV, grimacing as the needle pierced her skin, the smell of rubbing alcohol burning at her nostrils. The noises from the ER were now slightly muffled, but there were as many beeping monitors and fast talking doctors moving around her right now. She could just hear your voice over the hum of noise, giving her credentials and details of what happened to a doctor, conversation talked over by one of the paramedics as she heard her stats being listed off. She was hooked up to another couple of machines, creating more beeping that was beginning to overwhelm her before the room suddenly seemed to empty.

“Paramedics patched you up pretty good.” Your voice rung through the air and her eyes cracked open, looking up at you with hesitancy in her eyes.

“Then we can go, right?”

“No.” You laughed softly, “you’re just not as emergent as some of the other cases. You’re under observation until they can get you a CT to check for internal damages and we’ll go from there.”

“I hate hospitals.” She grumbled, shifting awkwardly on the gurney, hating how on display she felt. The remaining nurse in the room seemed to sense her uncomfortable-ness, moving over and adjusting it so it was propped up and she could sit upright.

“It shouldn’t be too long Agent Prentiss; they’re just waiting for a backlog at the CT machine to clear out.” They explained, giving you both a brief smile before they disappeared from the room.

“Since when do you have a problem with hospitals?” You asked, dropping onto a spare stool, watching her curiously.

“I’ve just spent enough time in and out of them over the past year.” She replied quietly, ducking her gaze as she picked at her fingernails.

“Hey,” your hand reached out, stopping her destructive movements and she glanced toward you, “you’re non emergent, you’re sitting upright and talking and like you’ve been insisting since Ross’, you’re fine.”

“Thanks.” She flashed a tight smile to you and you squeezed at her hand, only pulling away when your phone pinged and you dug it out of your pocket to read the message.

“They got him, finishing up paperwork now. Hotch wants to know if you want them to meet us here.”

“Oh god no!” Emily groaned, wincing as she moved her arm to run a hand over her face, “I don’t need a fucking audience waiting for me. Tell him they can go home, hell, you can go with them.”

“Well tough titty.” You pocketed your phone, “I’m not going anywhere. You got shot; I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Emily felt a warmth spreading through her chest, knowing that she had someone by her side for the entire thing, unlike last time, she wasn’t facing this on her own. She felt her heart start to calm down rather than racing in her chest, sighing softly as her body relaxed into the stretcher. She was fine, she was going to be fine.

“You’re too nice to me, you know that.” She rolled her head to look at you, a dopey smile on her face and you practically snorted.

“I think those drugs are starting to kick in Prentiss.”

She frowned, pouting at you and you laughed again, this time glancing away as you prayed she was too distracted to pick up on the thudding of your heart in your chest.

Okay. Maybe the warmth spreading through her was the painkillers, but at least she wasn’t focusing on the pain in her shoulder and the terror of being trapped in a hospital anymore.

Though that sense of calm and comfort only lasted the next hour. The results from the CT were exactly what Emily didn’t want to hear.

“Surgery?!” She protested, “you can’t be serious! Can’t you just leave it in?”

“No.” The doctor chuckled softly, “that risks more damage than taking it out.”

“So just rip it out now, here.”

“I do that and you’re gonna hate me for how much pain your in.” They countered.

“Full blown surgery just seems like a complete waste of time and resources.” Emily commented, “for something as trivial as this?”

“Agent Prentiss, I can assure you it’s a very simple procedure and it won’t take very long at all. We’ll have you patched up and out of here by morning with some pain killers.”

“No I—”

“If there’s an issue with pain killers, general anesthesia isn’t in the same, you’ll most likely sleep it off and only feel a little bit groggy when you wake up from being under.”

“No, that’s the part I don’t want.” Emily felt like her heart was beating out of her chest, her throat tight and she wasn’t fully able to catch her breath. The beeping next to her seemed to be getting louder with each moment that flickered by and she was sinking into a nightmare where she couldn’t tell tonight apart from the last night she’d spent in a hospital.

“Em…” Your voice was soft, your hand coming up to squeeze at hers gently, thumb rubbing reassuringly, a cool touch on her burning skin. “Just breathe for me, okay?” You turned to the doctor, “is there any way you could do this with a local anesthesia or something? Something where she doesn’t have to be asleep?”

“There likely isn’t a doctor who would.” He replied, “the CT didn’t give full visibility, if an artery gets nicked we’d have to put her under in a rush and adding extra things on the to do list in a situation like that isn’t ideal. I didn’t see anything in her medical history about a reaction to anesthesia.”

“It’s not exactly medical.” You replied, feeling Emily’s hand squeezing at yours.

“I don’t have the greatest track record with being put under.” She muttered and the beeping on the heart monitor started to increase again.

“Hey…” you shifted from your spot on the stool so you were perched on the edge of the gurney, grabbing her other hand, “look at me.” You waited for a moment until she actually looked up at you, the fear in her eyes slowly melting away as you shot her a small smile, “you need to stop deflecting and shutting down. They’re just trying to do their jobs and get you outta here healthy and in one piece, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen. You’ve got a bullet in your shoulder and the longer it’s in there the more risk you’re at, so let’s do this, okay? You’re not alone, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere okay? I’ll take care of you. I’ll be as close by as I possibly can the entire time, I mean, they’ve gotta give us some leeway, we are federal agents.” You raised a brow in the direction of the doctor who let out a huff of a laugh mixed with a sigh.

“I’ll have someone escort you to the gallery.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, “And like you being knocked out is gonna have me running off, I promise. I’ll be there the whole time and when you wake up.”

Emily let out a long low breath, the tightness in her chest finally easing as chewed on her lip, “okay. You better not be lying, if I wake up on the other side of the country you’ll be the one with a bullet lodged in your shoulder.”

“Em!” You scolded with a laugh, watching as a small smile finally broke out on her lips.

Emily focused on her breathing and remaining calm, listening to your voice as you walked with them all the way down to the OR floor. She wasn’t even sure what you were rambling on about, you always had the most ridiculous stories from when you babysat your nephew and they were mindless enough yet also wild enough that it would steer her mind away from the thought of being put under again. You squeezed her hand once more, saying a quick ‘see you soon’ before you were taken up to the gallery and you watched the way Emily’s eyes flicked toward you as she counted down from ten, letting out a breath to know that you were there, watching over her and this would be over before she even knew it.

The low beeping and dull ache in her shoulder were what roused her first, shifting slightly in the bed with a quiet groan, trying not to agitate her shoulder too much. Without opening her eyes she knew there was a soft light coming from somewhere in the room, much nicer than the glare of the fluorescent overheads and the next thing her ears picked up was the sound of a page of a book being turned before the creaking of a chair.

“Em?” Your voice whispered into the night, leaning forward against the side of the bed and she groaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Shit still sucks.” She complained, pushing herself up to sitting and you let out a chuckle.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad.” She swallowed, reaching out for the glass of water on the nightstand. As she fully woke up and her eyes adjusted to the light in the room she was able to take you in, spotting the bags under your eyes, the slight redness in them and the fact that you’d somehow snagged a hospital issued hoodie that was about three sizes too big to curl up in. “How late is it?” She asked and you looked at your watch.

“Almost six.” You replied with a tired yawn.

“You haven’t slept yet.” It wasn’t a question; it was an observation and you shrugged.

“I wanted to be awake when you came to, doctor said it wouldn’t be too long. And I definitely wasn’t about to sleep while you were in surgery, besides, it was pretty cool to watch.”

Emily observed you for a moment, her eyes drilling into you so much that you ducked your gaze, picking up your own drink to distract yourself, praying the heat in your cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the low light of the room.

“Why would you do this much for me? You could have left with the rest of the team.”

“I promised you wouldn’t be alone. I care about you, I wanted you to feel safe, I mean, you’re my… friend.” You shrugged it off, picking at the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Okay, now who’s shutting down and deflecting?” She asked with a tease in her voice, prodding at your arm and you let out a soft sigh, glancing back up at her with a playful glare in your eyes.

“Being in the hospital alone sucks enough on its own. The last time you had surgery you woke up across the world completely isolated and if that was me I would’ve been terrified. I know you don’t want to admit it and I’ll never mention it to the rest of the team but you were scared earlier and I wanted to make sure you knew I would be here for you, no matter what. And I… would like to hope that if the tables were turned that you’d do the same for me?”

“Are you kidding me?” A laugh burst from her lips, “of course I would! I really don’t think you have any idea how much you mean to me. You still being on the team and being around was the main reason I decided to stay, no matter how awkward it was with everyone else.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.” You ducked your gaze once again, this time no doubt the blush on your cheeks noticeable.

“Not at all.” Emily’s finger curled under your chin, turning your eyes up to her, “you were an absolute sweetheart today without even needing to ask and that was exactly what I needed, even if I am too stubborn to say anything. When we get back I’d really like to pay you back by taking you to dinner.”

“Really?” Your brow furrowed, wondering if she was finally stepping across the line the two of you had been toeing since she’d gotten back.

“Yeah.” She softly pinched at your chin, “you can read me better than anyone else. You know me almost better than I do some days and… I really care about you too.”

“Okay.” You laughed softly, the smile remaining on your cheeks, “well then I think that sounds great.”

“Great.” She smiled across at you, “it’s a date.” She gently tugged at your arm, “now c’mon, you need to get some sleep and there’s plenty of room up here.”

With a small laugh you shifted, kicking off your shoes and sliding under the blanket into Emily’s embrace, careful not to nudge her left arm too much. You let out a small yawn as you nestled into her uninjured shoulder, her free arm wrapping around you as she relaxed back into the bed, a sigh of relief finally feeling you in her arms. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was completely safe and wouldn’t have to worry about being alone ever again, not with you around. Her lips brushed against the top of your head; a feather light kiss left on your hair as she spoke.

“Thank you.”

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble

[bunnygirlism]

rip Ross you would’ve loved femtanyl

CW: badly drawn gore in read more I guess??

for context:

[nijigasakilove]

Gimme that season 2 asap. This was the best thing I’ve seen from jump since Jigokuraku. As a big Toku/Godzilla fan I loved it.

This was a “2nd season is imminent and this is just a set up” finale if I’ve ever seen one lol. The Kafka and Shinomiya fight was fire, ended up being a little generic in the end but it’s cool. Isao not as bad as I thought. Last week I ripped on him for being this universe’s Thunderbolt Ross, but I guess he did take Kikoru’s plea to heart and gave Kafka a chance to prove himself.

Fitting that in the end, it’s Mina or at least Kafka’s mental perception of her, that keeps him on the right path and snapped him back in control. She’s been his guiding light ever since they were kids.

“We dont want to hear your personal opinion” ok so why tf did you invite her if you don’t want her to sit down at the table or give her actual insight as someone who lives and works with the dude on a daily basis lmao.

The general staff old heads had no intention of even hearing her out, good thing Isao has a brain. You really think you can continue fighting these Kaiju with the same methods as they get stronger and stronger? PLUS Isao is literally using Kaiju 2’s abilities so all that “precedent” shit is stupid 💀

Don’t really matter whether they officially designate him as Kaiju or Human, long as my boy is alive and allowed to continue serving alongside Mina and the others we good. It’s been a very eventful last few months for everyone in the division and now that the cat’s out the bag with Kafka, can’t wait to see where things go from here.

Kaiju number 9 claims he’s got human intelligence figured out, but in traditional shonen villain form, he’s forgetting that’s not the most important thing humans have on their side. It’s their hearts. Hype for s2

review

[rdr2stories]

"Punishment" a rdr fanfiction.

A short rdr fanfiction in an au where it was not Agent Ross who killed John.

It was like looking at a ghost, seeing you that is, because while I recognized you as your own person, as the little kid I knew all those years ago, running around asking if anyone had found any comic books and making flower crowns for your mother, I also saw him in you.

I could see his determination in your eyes, the kind that only came from strong desire and a feeling of unjustness, unrightfulness, your life was not easy growing up, was it? We tried our best, we all did, to keep you safe and out of danger, to give you a better life than we had had. I am sorry it didn’t work out, I am sorry I made it even worse.

You wear your hair like he did when we were young, down to your shoulders. I bet it is a mess to brush out in the mornings, I remember his was, he always complained about, would often ask me to help, though only when we were out of the eyes of the others, when they couldn’t see my hands softly stroking over his rough hair, brushing it out ever so carefully.

The fact that he ever denied you as his seems ridiculous looking at you now, like a bad joke no one would even find funny because the truth is so obvious… Yet that being said, you are different from him, even when you hold his fun and wear his hat, the one with the small feather, you are different, you are naive, you are sloppy, aggressive, you don’t have his skill or his finesse.

This isn’t your life, is it? This is your first time pointing a gun at a man, is it not? It is quite funny actually as the last time I did it, it was at him. My life will be the first you take, seems fitting as the last I took was your fathers.

It brings me joy because it tells me you didn’t have to grow up as he, stealing, robbing, murdering, having a noose around your neck by the age of twelve. He did right by you, gave you all he never had.

I guess another difference between the two of you is that you don’t stall, he did, I did. He did it because he cared for me, I doubt you even remember me, to him I was a friend, maybe more, to you I am the man who ripped your father from you, that is why you have already pulled the trigger. Your father hadn’t been able to, while he had pointed the gun at me, he didn’t pull it, he had talked to me, slowly lowering it as my hands remained in the air. We had too many memories for him to just shot, yet he had too much on his shoulders for him not to point the gun.

Maybe if he had been like you he would still be alive and I wouldn’t have been walking around praying for someone to wash his blood off my hands, I doubted he would have wanted mine on his either, but rather mine than your mothers. His loyalty laid with her, it had for many years, no matter how much I wish I could gain it back and if the law told him that her safety and the immunity of your family was guaranteed with my death, then my death he would have… Even if I could see in his eyes that it would not weigh easily on his shoulders.

When I say I am sorry for what I did, I mean it, I wanted nothing more but for you to be safe, for him to be safe, for your mother to be safe, though knowing her she is most likely dead, otherwise you would not be here, she wouldn’t let you. “You do the hanging, not the swinging, you hear me?” I remember she told you that one day, all she ever wanted for you was to become a lawyer, or at least someone who didn’t run when the law came around.

I tried to run away from him you know? Your father. I shoved a crate on him and jumped out of the window, and then I ran, I ran and ran and shot anywhere but near him, hoping to scare him off so I could disappear, but his horse stumbled and he fell. A bullet hit him and he was dead on the spot, never suffered, never hurt, most likely never realised what happened, I barely did.

My horse had barely come to a stop before I was on the ground, stumbling over to his body, looking down at the empty eyes I had once went for comfort to. I had cradled his lifeless body in my arms, warm tears running down my cheeks as he went cold and I prayed to any god that might exist for our fates to switch, that it was a father and not a criminal who would walk away from there.

 For three years I had lived iolated in the mountains, hiding from reality, myself, the truth of what I have done, things that you can run but never hide from, and god had yet to appear, he had yet to make things right, yet to do anything, until now, he has brough you to me and I will gladly let you ring the bells of judgement and bring me my punishment.

----

Also yes, I did also post this in another version, written in third person pov, because I didn't know which worked best so I have made both.

[darhknight]

X-Men 97 Reaction

Reacting to Episode 7. Bright Eyes

• WARNING •

Spoliers under the cut. Do not read unless you seen the episode or don't care about spoilers. I warned you.

The gravestone and speech from Nightcrawler broke my heart

"He say it was just in the cards" my heartstrings

Every gambler has a tell. Modesty was Gambit's.

Not Jubliee crying. Someone give her a hug

Dad Wolverine to the rescue

Jubliee is right tho. Where the crap is Rogue?

Found her

Love how Nightcrawler knew Rogue was f*cking stuff up. Like that's a good brother.

HULK NAME DROP

General Ross? Sir she might kill you be nice

CAP'S SHIELD. CAP'S SHIELD

STEVEN ROGERS BOIIIIIIIS

Love how Rogue was like five seconds from fighting Steve and Steve was like 'nah let me just show you what I found and maybe we can work together once I get the ok.'

she said no

then she proceeded to throw his shield into the mountains somewhere

Big Boss Energy

A resort ... mmm Kay. Who's paying his bill guys?

Kick his butt. Kick his butt. Kick his butt

Annnnnd we are back to the other X-men

Is that BEAST'S GIRLFRIEND THE LOVELY CARLY OR CARY I CANT SPELL HER NAME THE REPORTER LADY

Love how the same mutants show up everytime in the background

Not the statue heads of Magneto and Charles 😢

Jubliee convincing Reberto to tell his parents. I'm so proud of him. 👏

BEAST IS ANGRY 😡

A little Jean and Scott moment. Good for them they need it.

Why am I not surprised EMMA FROST is the first survivor they find

Also sorry Scott. We know you love Jean and Madelyn. (That's not how her names spelt my bad)

Back to Rogue

Nightcrawler being a good brother

Him KNOWING ABOUT HER AND MAGNETO

No she's crying.

Their all there for her. I'm so happy

IS THAT BASTION?!

EVIL NASTY MAN. EVIL NASTY MAN

HE Killed Him. He killed Gyrich.

I skipped over Jubliee and Roberto. My bad.

Love how his mom knew

Shes like honey if your weren't a mutant I be concerned

'It was your secret to tell.'

'Spriters anyone?' Like ma'am. You just made a reference to him maybe not seeing Jubliee anymore and your offering drinks?

Back to the other X-men

Forgot to mention how much I enjoyed watching Trask tell them the truth

Also Morph being like 'He created the master mold let's like not trust him.' Aka he's evillll. 😈

Sleeping GAS

(Notice as I was typing this that I have the scenes backwards. Whoops)

Is it me or do those robots kinda look like ultron?

Trask really be losing his mind right now. I actually feel bad for him.

Love how Trask is ratting out Sinister tho

Like he took one look at what Sinsiter did and went NOPE. Gonna go rat him out to the group of mutants I have been trying to kill since season one of the original show.

ROGUE DROPPING HIM

GIRRRRRRRL

SHE DEADLY

'Is this what we are now?' A great question Morph. The answer is ... complicated.

HUMAN SENTINEL!!

Dude he knocked Rogue OUT

Love the little Nightcrawler saving Rogue moment. Thank you creators for my fill of sweet siblings.

Morph getting hurt and Wolverine yelling his name

I ship it

You GET YOUR HAND OFF SCOTT

Never in my life have I liked Cyclops but this show has changed me

SO GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SON

CABLE. CABLE. CABLE.

Jean reading his mind to figure it out

'Let's skip the reunion dad.' I'm dying

My son is meeting his son guys. Their meeting!

BASTION IS BACK

EVIL HUMAN SENTINEL CYBORG.

NASTY MAN

Oh Sinister is here too I guess.

rip the human race. Bastion gonna turn them all into sentinels. bet.

THEY KNOW ABOUT XAVIER

OH NO

XAVIER YOU DONE MESSED UP

That Song. I don't know if I hate it or love it.

MAGNETO!

ERIK MAGNUS LESNHARR

MY HUSBAND?!

BASTION YOU GET YOUR NASTY HANDS OFF MY MAGNETIC HUSBAND

I don't care if he has facial hair you don't touch him

Also love how Magneto has the mutant collar AND tape over his mouth

Plus cuffs around his hands sticking him to the chair

Like I understand the collar and the chair but like the tape?

This man is the master of magnetism not screaming really loud

Also you be in the middle of nowhere

Who's gonna hear him?

But once again

GET YOUR HANDS AND THAT BLADE AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND YOU D*CK

'Just obey. Just listen. You were made for this.'

Leave Erik alone.

• Maybe a few unfavorable opinions •

Erik is a holocaust victim. And jewish/german. Was treated like crap and Bastion is out here telling him that he was made to obey to be Bastion's plaything?

That he was made to be a Slave

cause I don't know if you all got that vibe from that scene but I definitely did

Especially if you know ANYTHING about Bastion

The guy makes Red Skull look sane

Bro I hope Rogue finds you and tears you a new one

Or Charles.

Or any of the X-men for that matter

Actually in my honest opinion it probably be Wolverine. Like I'm gonna call it right now. If Charles doesn't find Magento telepathically. Five bucks says somehow Wolverine does.

Or Bastion turns Magento into a sentinel

Actually don't do that

Please

Leave my somewhat questionable but trying his best to play nice with humans master of magnetism husband alone.

He deserves better

They all do

Expect Sinister.

He can die in a ditch for all I care

And Bastion ... sadly

For plot reasons we gotta sacrifice Bastion

Sorry bud

Gonna say also that Cable might have to go back in time cause I don't feel like they are going to keep Gambit dead.

But that's just me.

Thanks for reading my ranting

[antiadvil]

20 fics tag

Okay so I found this in my drafts and it's like. 2 years old at least?? I think I filled it out and then couldn't think of anyone to tag so I never posted 😭 anyway!! This is extremely out of date but:

@succubusphan tagged me, thank u yani

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

1. Somebody to Love: Dan’s train was running late, and he couldn’t stop his anxiety from running absolutely wild.

2. Starlight: “We should go stargazing,” Phil said one morning over breakfast.

3. 5 times Dan and Fiona were not dating (and one time they were): Dan didn’t know how to play poker.

4. Is it serious?: It was after another party.

5. who you are: It wasn’t as hard to find as Rey expected it to be.

6. Friends with (Tax) Benefits: “Let’s get married,” Phil said.

7. I’m just curious: Of course Dani would be here.

8. i AIM 2 b w/ u: Dan glanced at the time.

9. Celebrity Dating Life Hacks: “So, dating as a celebrity,” the interviewer said, and Phil froze. “That must be hard.”

10. Soft Things: They kept an awkward amount of distance between them on the walk from the bus station to Phil’s parents’ house.

11. no grave can hold my body down (i’ll crawl home to her): Dani wasn’t always the most reliable, but going missing for two weeks straight wasn’t in character.

12. family reuinions and hurt feelings: Dan was never going to offer to host something again, at least not if it involved any sort of human interaction on his part.

13. Night In: Dan’s nail polish was chipped. 

14. Electrify my Heart: College was hard, Dan decided, and his classes hadn’t even started yet.

15. True Loaf: “And you’re getting the cake?” Dan had asked.

16. hole in my ear (and my heart): Dan’s mom cried every time Dan talked about getting his ears pierced, and his dad was even worse.

17. Roses are Red: Buying his crush a rose for Valentine’s Day really shouldn’t have been so hard.

18. Love is Blind: Phil had some bad habits, he’d admit.

19. a paper cutout of a life: Dan didn’t mean to.

20. forever is in your eyes: “We should have followed a Bob Ross tutorial,” Phil muttered, swiping at his paper.

I guess what we’ve learned from this is I like to start my PRB fics with Phil saying something random. And that I haven’t posted fic in ages, rip. Lots of just jumping to the middle of things, which makes sense since most of my fics are short.

2 years later I am still not sure who to tag so I am tagging whoever wants to do this. Yes you. Do it.

[explorersaremadeofhope]

Ahem! So for the Fan Fic Writer Asks: 2, 3, 5, 10, 12, 17 (hehehehe), 25, 26 (hahaha), 27 and 29! 😇

[guy grabbing startled cat meme] YOU!

okay, fiiiiiine (thank you 😂💖)

2. Do you read/reread your own fics? honestly, not that much? it depends a little on how i feel about them. if i'm satisfied with them, i might. but often rereading my own stuff makes me realise there's a bunch of small stuff i would like to change with hindsight, so it's easier not to. 😂

3. What's your favorite fic that you've written? damn. i guess it might be some of my earliest terror stuff, anchor up to me or and stay awhile. personally i don't really... have favourites very much, i see good bits and flawed bits in everything, but those were fun to write and people were extremely kind about them when i posted them, so that was a lot of fun overall!

5. What's a fic idea you've had that you will never write? so many. most of them, probably. that said i don't like to fully give up on an idea! but i have several fitzier gdocs sitting around that'll never go anywhere, including: half-epistolary modern au where jfj sends postcards to francis from around the world (initially to annoy him) over years while francis dates, gets engaged to, then splits up with sophia, and james globetrots to avoid his own loneliness, until they gradually become friends and then get together

rest of these under a cut, god damn

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? not really, i think. or if so, only positively. i've gotten some super lovely comments on some of my fics, and i never really expect that, so it's always a happy surprise. and a couple of them have got podfic, which is also absolutely wild to me.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP/s? sorry, no! i have a shittonne of character playlists, but i don't tend to make playlists for fics!

17. - already answered!

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing? actually, no! i don't think that's ever happened. but i don't tend to write very heavy angst either.

26. Is there something you've written that you would never want your family to see? i mean.. most of it? don't get me wrong, my mum is great and knows that i've written fanfiction since i was a teenager, but the idea of showing anyone in my family my writing is embarrassing as hell lmao, that shit's private

29. Share a bit from a fic you'll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. rip, there are so many to choose from. here's some disembodied angst of james ross missing his boyfriend!

---

he steps outside and tilts his face up into the chill breeze. the night is clear, the air sharp with a late january cold snap. overhead, millions of pinheads of light flicker and twinkle against the black, occasionally winking out of existence as a cloud drifts across the heavens, carried by winds far stronger than the gentle stirring of air which cools his cheeks. the grounds are quiet, deep and dark and still in the early evening. a dusting of snow covers everything. it is new, and as yet unbroken by any human tread, reflecting the light of the moon like a fresh sheet of paper. against it the leafless trees and the shadows cast by the light streaming from the windows behind him are black as pitch. 

his hands soon begin to ache – he has not brought his gloves. he puts them into his pockets. it is not terribly cold – when he glanced at it, the thermometer which he has had mounted beside the window read 23 degrees. unusual for england, certainly, but not true cold. nothing to speak of, really. his feet begin to go numb in his shoes, but it is not too bad; not yet. 

idly, he picks out orion, then auriga, following it down into taurus. canis major, half hidden by a tree, is yet easy, sirius clear as a beacon. turning toward the north, there is ursa major, then the northern cross – cassiopeia takes him a few moments, but he finds it at last, almost directly overhead. 

are we looking at the same stars? 

they’ll be up all night and all day, now, these same constellations; circling tirelessly about the central axis, never dipping from sight.

“i say, what on earth are you doing out here?” 

[unlucky-outlaw]

One of things I'm curious about is why didn't Agent Milton know who John was. I know Edgar Ross eventually figured it out later. They knew Arthur, given how he's at nearly every heist. I guess it implies that Arthur really was front and center in it all. So Dutch either never showed off John or he was encouraged to be on the down low because he did give out a fake name when asked. Did they even have the right name when they sent him to Sisika Penitentiary? I need to double check the newspapers to see if they even talked about the breakout and if they have him as John Marston or Rip Van Winkle.

[spookiestheadcanons]

Jaune headcanons?? :o

!!!

Random Headcanons: Jaune!

There's no good gifs of the queen sadly

Jaune is the type of person who sees an attractive person and just "welp, we'll marry and have five kids now"

Failed the first few times but atleast got a husband in the end

And OH HOW SHE LOVES HIM

Sometimes she's just spending time with him and suddenly simps for him real hard for no reason

"Jaune, you're stimming again." "Jsjdhfwpklsjfkjls I love you." "...I love you too, now focus please."

Jaune's vocabulary consists using "girl" at every two words

The stupidest yet best mother that ever existed

Ross telling stories about her are always like:

"My mom is very nice. I love her." "Yesterday you were angry because she tricked you on April Fools Day..." "She told me she was pregnant..."

On her highschool days, was an absolute mess

The talkative person of the class who somehow manages to not fail a single test

Maybe luck? Maybe, but she's there

Jaune has a million photos of baby Ross with the most silly ideas possible

Definitely talks a bunch of nonsense when she's drunk, mostly of them the "I loooove yooou" type

Both her and her husband rates actors while watching a movie

"Hm... meh, she's hot I guess, but the villain is way better."

Has a movie collection. Useful? No.

Talks too fast when she's angry or excited. Ross, Lila and Jaune's husband eventually got used to it

Listen to loud music whenever she's cleaning the house

The type of person who comforts by insulting the person who made her friend sad

"...and that's all." "What a son of a bitch, I hope they burn in hell for doing something for you and I swear to God that I'll rip their dick of-" "...oh."

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Sixteen

A/n: Heyo:) Sorry for the lack on updates, been proper sick:// But hoping you enjoy this next bit! Also recommend rereading the last section of the part 15!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Angst, just yeah...

Masterlist

--

“Maybe it’d be best if you two take a walk, yeah?”

I inhaled sharply at Ross’s words and tried not to grimace at the fire that ripped through my torso as I did so. Ross’s eyes darted back towards the fort for a very brief second and, even though I could barely form a coherent thought, I grasped what he was seemingly trying to avoid here. 

And I had to agree with him, so I tugged my dressing gown tighter around the t-shirt I currently wore beneath and glanced up with a tiny smile when Ross took my uninjured arm in his and helped me into my slippers.

“You gonna be alright?” He asked me discreetly, his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

I swallowed and casted a cautious look over towards George, who hadn't moved an inch from where he stood near the doorway. I took in his peaky expression and shifty eyes but ultimately gave Ross a small dip of my head. 

“Just, make sure Matty stays here, yeah?” I told him quietly, turning my face away, “And if Lee pops by, can you just tell him-” 

I stopped myself abruptly and was quick to shake my head, thinking better of telling Ross that I’d yet to take my morning medication. They could wait a while longer, I could deal with the pain a little while longer.

“What?” Ross prompted me but I just shook my head again, waving his worries off.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’ll be back soon, alright?”

Ross’s expression tightened slightly but he didn't push me further on the subject, simply dipped his chin and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of my head when he pulled me into a hug. 

I practically felt the chilly glare he sent George from over me, as if warning him not to fuck up anymore than he already had. And so I just patted the bassist’s shoulder softly when we parted ways and gifted him a small but grateful smile. 

As I turned back towards the door I tried to walk a little quicker than I had been as of late- mostly to appease George- but that was quickly cut short due to the splintering sting that rippled up my spine. 

Alright then. Fucking hell, I've got it! No more of that then.

It'd been a stupid move anyway.

I huffed inwardly at the thought and made it a point to ignore the worried gaze George casted me at the grimace I must’ve been making, his eyes bleeding into the side of my head as I stepped through the door, walking at a much more sedate pace now- even if it still killed.

I heard Ross mutter something shortly to him under his breath just before the latter followed me out, but with my ear still the way it was I couldn’t quite make out what it’d been.

I wanted to scream a little in that moment and the feeling only escalated when I found myself stuck with George, who looked almost as worse for ware as I did, in the ward’s silent hallway. Apparently it was still rather early and the nurses had yet to even switch shifts. 

I made a small noise in the back of my throat, mainly to break the tense quiet we’d been living in but also because it was as close to an actual cough as I was going to get this morning. I’d already resigned myself to it, in fact. The pain so far was utter torture- as I'd typically come to expect each morning now- and I only hoped that it ebbed sooner rather than later, but I supposed that’s why I wandered a bit away from my room and over into the next hallway so that I could take a seat.

Sitting was a whole lot easier.

George turned the corner just as I collapsed into the cushioned bench which rested against a yellow wall and looked out at a larger pane of glass. He doddled there for a moment before he finally hiked up his metaphorical trousers and braved sitting beside me. 

I would’ve rolled my eyes at him then but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his face. The dark shadows, his scattered stubble, those chapped lips. 

He looked like shit, to be honest. And I told him so.

“You look like shit.”

George’s eyes darted away from where they’d been glued to the window and over towards me, I heard the audible sound of his swallow before his gaze skittered away again, he merely shrugged in reply. 

I clenched my jaw. Was this really what I'd waited over a week for?

“Almost as bad as me.” I added in hopes to get some sort of a rise out of him. He had yet to utter a single word, even when Ross had been stood there with us. “Smell a bit too, I reckon. When’s the last time you had a shower?”

His dark eyes, only made darker by the blueish hue sat beneath them, narrowed a tad. 

Still didn’t fucking answer me though, did he?

“You going to, I don’t know, say something?” I gritted out with a glare of my own. That anger and upset I’d been feeling for days on end now pooling in my heart before it finally flooded my chest. “Maybe give me an answer to where the actual fuck you’ve been this past week… Let me in on what could’ve been so important that you didn’t even have the time to shoot me a text to ask if I was still alright- alive even.”

George’s stare didn’t diver. He kept his hands completely still. But I saw the slight twitch in his neck. 

In truth, I really could’ve fucking screamed then.

“George.” I said, watching him.

“George.” I called again, sharper.

“George!” I all but shouted as I leant in closer.

And when he finally answered me his voice was a dry rasp, either from disuse or a prior screaming match I hadn’t been made aware of. But I didn’t make it a point to ask.

“What?”

I almost laughed at his one word answer. But I was too shocked. 

“What?” I scoffed at him instead, “What the fuck do you mean, what?”

He made a face, and oh God, fuck the screaming I wanted to smack him over the head. He still wouldn't even spare me the curtesy of a mere glance.

“Are you having me on?” I bit out, irritated now. 

“The fuck do you want me to say, Y/n?” George grunted at me before I watched his head fall lazily into his hands, harsh fingers pressed into either temple. The skin on them was what caught my eye though, all cut up and torn, his knuckles bruised too.  

“Well, first you can tell me what happened to your hands.” I replied, squinting a bit to get a good look just as he ripped them from view. He went back to staring out the window again and I huffed. “Alright, can you can tell me where the hell you’ve been then, Mike Tyson?”

He didn’t answer me, just chewed on the insides of his cheeks. 

In pain and questioning why he had even bothered to show if he was just going to give me the cold shoulder, I could only sigh as I slumped further against the wall.

If I angled my back a certain way my ribs usually didn’t act up, but even then, I had to be very careful- knowing my luck, I’d puncture a lung or something simply by moving.

I couldn't really guess as to how much time passed by with the two of us just sat there. Him burning a hole into the window’s thick glass and me only growing more nauseous by the second. But the sun had almost risen and the pain I felt had almost doubled. 

I found myself desperately wishing that I'd just taken my fucking meds.

I was tired. Tired of hurting all the time. Tired of waiting around. Tired of fighting with George. With the world, really. It was just one thing after the other with me. Always had been.

And besides, I think I had more than enough reasons to be tired. Wasn't as though I was giving up though, was it? Not just yet.

With a small huff, I let my eyes slip close as I attempted to gather my thoughts, trying my hardest to ignore the current agony I was in. I had to get back to the room before Lee did, or worse, before Matty woke up and came looking for me…

But having just had that thought, I supposed it would be that exact moment in which George decided he had something to say. Because why wouldn’t he?

I gave an internal sigh at the sound of his voice and lolled my head against the wall towards him, peering through lidded eyes.

“I’m being a right cunt, I know that.” He muttered to me, still staring away. And God, if that wasn't the truth... “But I just don’t know what to say to you, alright? How I meant to act.”

Exasperated I tried to keep a level-head. Even though I wanted to fucking wring the idiot's neck, I could sort of understand where he was coming from. If it'd been him, I don’t know what sort of mess I’d have been in. Though, I would quite like to hope that I wouldn’t have immediately gone off the grid and done a vanishing act. I had a little more composure.

“Like you usually would, please?” Was the reply I settled on, my voice quiet to keep from straining myself much further. “I mean, everyone's been so off with me since…”

George winced, but I didn’t question his reaction. I knew why, he’d seen the accident happen, or so I assumed. And it probably wasn’t something a person wanted to relive, whether it’d been a complete stranger that had been hit, or someone that close to you. 

It also felt a little weird talking about it right then. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to or… maybe it was because I didn’t want to talk about it with him. I didn’t want to have his pity, or even his disregard. I wasn’t too sure. But either way, I wanted to just forget it all. Right then, I just wanted to forget.

All of a sudden I hissed and my hand abruptly flew up to cradle my side whilst I struggled to keep the rest of my body absolutely still. My chin was now high up in the air and my jaw was tightened by the bite of my grinding teeth. I didn’t dare make another sound.

“Y/n? Y/n?” I heard George call out, but my eyes were already wound tightly shut, squinted in my torment to keep the room from spinning anymore than it already was. “Birdie? Babe, come on, what’s wrong?”

The pain I’d been feeling since having left my room grew so suddenly in that next moment, it radiated across the length of my torso and pulsed wickedly in my veins. It honestly felt like my blood was on fire, burning and blazing its way under my skin and destroying what little else it could of me. I was desperate to cry out, to bargain a plea, but I was too terrified to even breathe. Let alone speak.

“Birdie?” George’s voice stressed, now taking on a higher pitch, worry and anguish worming its way into his tone. I felt his presence right there beside me, the way his hands must’ve been reaching out to help me but too scared to actually touch.

He was in a frenzy, confused and bewildered. I wanted to tell him I was okay, but we didn't lie. Or we weren’t supposed to. So I kept quiet and bit down on my tongue.

“Nurse? Anyone?" He called out helplessly just before a fist pounded on the wall above me. "Fucking hell, we need some help here!”

I think that was just about the time I passed out.

—

“Are you shitting me? Or are you that much of a twat?”

I frowned at what could’ve only been Matty’s voice, shifting slightly in the darkness that now surrounded me.

“Oh piss off, would you? It’s not like I meant for it to happen!”

And that was definitely George. Guess, he’d stuck around then.

I wanted to open up my eyes, find out what had happened. But there was also a much bigger part of me that still felt a little out of it and was intrigued to see how this would play out without my interference.

“Maybe you two should keep it down, hey?”

“Shut up, Ross. Why the fuck did you bring him here in the first place?” Matty snapped back at Ross’s softer tone of negotiation, and I could hear the anger that fuelled him. It made me wonder what’d gotten him so worked up. “He’s been MI-fucking-A this past week, doing God only knows what! And you’ve just let him swan right back on in here without an explanation for any of it.”

“Well, I didn’t think it’d turn out like this, mate.”

Matty spluttered. “What did you think would happen?”

“Not this!” Ross retorted hastily, “Besides, we all wanted him here. I was just the one to drag him in.”

George had to be dragged here to see me? I mean, thanks to Ross and all- him carrying the ginormous twat in surely must’ve been a right sight- but what the fuck?

“Yeah, I wanted him here- days ago! But he was nowhere to be fucking found then, was he? Just pissin' it up and ignoring the lot of us- ignoring her, whilst she laid in a fucking hospital bed!” 

Matty seemed to pause then and I heard a slight scuffle from the right side of the room. “Matty…” Ross warned, but evidently Matty hadn't appeared to have even heard him.  

“She was in a coma, you know that? A coma, George.” His voice was like thunder, a total contrast to that of his usual lilt and I found it much harder to keep pretending I was still asleep. “As in, we weren’t sure when she’d wake up, if she ever would. It was touch and go for too fucking long and where the hell were you, G? Nowhere to be found when we had doctors and all sorts in here, day and night, just checking that she was doin' alright, to make sure that she wouldn’t crash again.”

There was a brief pause and the room suddenly felt so stilted. Even I startled at the admission.

“Crash?” Came George’s strained voice.

Matty simply scoffed at him. “You wouldn’t know nowt about that though- ran off before the ambulance could even pull away, didn't you G? But what a fucking guy! The best, our George! Gone before they could even give his missus a sodding hospital gown! Give him a round of applause everybody for doing absolutely fuck all!”

“Fuck you.” George spat right back at him.

I found then that I didn’t really want to hear much more.

“You lot just about done?” I questioned quietly as I sat up further in my bed, wincing when I found myself reattached to the IV I’d lost a couple days ago now. “What even happened?”

Matty was the first to rush towards my bedside. “You alright, love?” He asked me, eyes scanning and checking me over for any signs of discomfort. I rolled my own, but not unkindly.

“Peachy, Nightingale.” I replied cheekily, which made him crack a small, very tiny smile. His previous anger mollified and replaced by an immediate worry. Matty was now in full fretting mother-mode it seemed. “How is my favourite nurse anyway?” I quizzed, throat dry.

It was his go to roll his eyes at me then, but he was especially cautious when he took perch on the side of my bed. Though he tried not to make it too obvious.

“Peachy.” Matty mimicked me just as his fingers met my casted hand. “Gave us a bit of a scare though, dickhead. What were you playing at?”

I huffed at him and proceeded to ignore the question, instead gave the room’s two remaining occupants a quick glance. “Ross, will you tell me what happened?”

Matty went to answer the question but the look I gave him quickly shut him right back down, when I turned back towards the bearded giant I noticed him wearing an amused smirk.

“Pushed yourself too fucking hard.” Ross told me simply, his arms crossed over his chest where he leant against the windowsill. “Or in medical terms, you overexerted yourself, mate. Forgot your meds, didn’t you? Ended up feinting like a big wuss and pulling some stitches as you went down.”

My mouth pressed together as I internalised the information. But apparently that hadn’t been the end of it.

“Erm Lee also mentioned that they wanted to keep an eye on your blood pressure and hydration levels too.” Matty added in a know-it-all sort of way. “’S why you’ve got the drip again, darling.”

“Right.” My gaze skitted over towards the far corner then, to where George was still stood apparently. “Stuck ‘round this time then?” I couldn’t help but ask and the look of surprise that flashed across his face only gave me a very brief feeling of satisfaction.

Sadly, he didn’t offer me a reply. But that was also when Hann decided to make an appearance.

“The fuck’s gone on?” He immediately asked us all as he bulldozed through the door, appearing half flustered but mostly just agitated. “I had the hospital on the phone, telling me how your vitals have rapidly depleted and that I should probably get down here. Only to then see Lee in the lift on the way up and have him give me the rundown on what utter idiots the rest of you have been. I mean…”

Adam’s fatherly rant came to an abrupt end at the sight of George. And I guessed that Lee hadn’t filled him in on everything then. Though, that nurse and I would soon be having words.

“Why are you here?” Hann questioned George and I honestly think that it was the first time I’d ever seen Adam both so utterly bewildered and furious at the same time. He was typically so well-spoken, so levelheaded, but then, well let’s just say I’d hate to have been George in that current moment. “Well?”

“Came along with me this morning.” Ross stepped in to inform Adam as he kicked away from the wall to almost stand between the two bandmates. George just kept on staring straight at Hann though, unable to look away from the brunt of Adam’s full-focus. 

“Weren’t asking you.”

Matty and I shared a wide-eyed look at Hann’s sharp quip, and I didn't dare intervene. Matty though...

“Um, Hann mate?”

But his attempt was cut short by the hand Hann held up to him, eyes still honed in on George. 

I would’ve laughed, I really should’ve, but I’d been so shocked by it. It seemed like Matty was sailing in a similar boat.

“I think I asked you a question.” Hann spoke and everything seemed to dull then, as though it was only him and George left in the room.

George’s jaded eyes divered between Adam’s green iris's, left right left. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, a tell that let me know he was nervous.

“Got a lift with Ross, didn't I.” Was what he decided on, but to Hann it’d been the wrong answer.

“I didn’t ask how you got here, George. I asked why you were here.” 

A silence dragged between the five of us then, Hann had taken a small step forward and Ross seemed to tense at it. But George did nothing, not until his eyes fleetingly skidded over towards where I was laying. That’d seemingly been another wrong move on his part.

Adam all but jumped to shield me from his view and I felt my own eyes widen at his next words.

“Don’t, mate. I just wouldn’t.”

“Don’t what?” George prodded, eyes hard all of a sudden, and he clenched his jaw as he shifted closer. “Come on, Hann. Don’t what, mate- look at her? What, is that not allowed now?”

Matty’s hand squeezed the pads of my fingertips, but neither of us, nor Ross dared say a thing.

“Yeah. Exactly that, actually. Why should you even be allowed in this room? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you’ve done nothing to warrant you even being here.” Hann ridiculed, and we all heard the blatant venom in his words.

Adam and I, we’d always been friends, close but not as close as me and the rest of the boys. We were just an awful lot alike whilst simultaneously being a total contrast to one another. It was a strange concept, yeah, but that was just how it’d always been.

Growing up, Adam had never really had much to say, to share. He’d come from a good family, did well in school, never got into much trouble, done alright with the girls. But he'd never liked drama, and me, I had drama woven into my DNA.

That’s why it was such a shock to have him, out of everyone, stand up for me. Especially like this. He was all fired up, exhausted and irritated, and clearly so done with George's bullshit, it seemed. 

“Piss off, Adam.” George grunted with a shake of his head and a scowl. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to see her.”

“Why? Why then do you get to just waltz back on in here after everything, ey?” Hann retorted, angling his head to further his point. “Oh, is it ‘cause you were the one who phoned the paramedics? Wait no, sorry, that weren’t you, was it? My bad, mate. But oh, you were definitely the one who jumped in the back of that ambulance, right? Ah, shit! No, that wasn’t you either.”

Adam pivoted just enough to gesture over his shoulder towards us, his eyes still trained on George even as he directed his next question to Matty. 

“Matt, who was the first one down here when we got the news? No actually wait, out of everyone, which one of us never left her bedside?”

Matty looked a whole lot more lost than he had a second ago, mouth agape slightly and alert eyes darting back and forth between the four of us whilst he struggled to find a suitable reply for Hann, “Me?”

Adam gave a strong nod. 

“Thought so, and who was it that fought all the nurses for information when she was in surgery?”

Matty blinked at him, “Um, me.”

“Right.” Hann pressed his lips together, “And who got us in here to see her even when we were told it wasn’t possible? Had to be the same twat that almost got themselves thrown out ‘cause they wouldn’t leave her by herself those first few nights, right? Who slept by her bed, night and day. Who had to watch her fight for her life. Who witnessed her seizing and code, again and again.” Adam looked over at us then, “Who was that, Matty?”

I squeezed Matty’s fingers as best I could, tears blurring my vision and stinging my eyes. I didn’t know how else to react, I hadn’t been told half of this. 

“Me.” Matty choked out.

And then Adam turned away from us and shrugged once at George. “Where were you?”

George said nothing, though his eyes were glossy and his face betrayed every emotion he felt.

“Where were you!” Hann all but shouted at him, and even Ross couldn’t come to George’s defence.

I’d never seen someone look so defeated. So wounded. I wanted to reach out and tell him it was okay, that it would be soon. But they wouldn’t, would they?

He’d messed up, bad. And he’d not only hurt me, but the guys as well. It was a scary thought to be reminded of how highly they all seemed to hold me, that they would call out one of their own for me. If the roles had been reversed I knew that I’d act the same, but to have proof of their loyalty, their love… That was something I knew that I would never find again. They weren’t just my people, they were my family.

Only, now I didn’t quite know where I stood with George.

And it hurt. He’d hurt me more than any car ever could’ve by not being here. By having left me when I needed him the most. 

But there had to have been a reason for it. For all of it. There had to have been. Because George, my George he only did what was best for me, even if it’d ripped him in two. And the look on his face, the tears that he wouldn’t let fall as I observed closely him from the other side of my hospital room… That look told me that he had a reason. A reason for all of this.

And I was stubborn enough to also believe that I’d get it out of him. One way or another. He’d tell me everything and we’d make things right again.

Because we had to. Because he was my George and I was his Birdie.

There was no other way this could work out. Right?

Part seventeen>

[toomuchracket]

Charli once commented ‘daddy’ on George’s Instagram. Imagine gf reader doing the same to Ross. Like ‘fucking SMASH’, ‘fuck meeeee’, ‘HOT!!!!’, ‘dilf 🔥🔥’, ‘Jesus… hurry up and get home’

oh absolutely. you're at home while the boys are on tour, and ross posts one of the professional show pics that jordan's taken, one of him all suave and sexy and smirking at something witty george said through the earpiece, and within seconds of him posting it you've commented "on my knees actually". ross likes the comment but doesn't reply - charli and george, however, are like "get it bitch" and "tmi but fair enough", respectively, while adam pretends he does not see it and carly just replies with laughing emojis (rip trumanblack i guess we'll never know what he'd say). ross does call you to giggle about it, and you're like "well i would be on my knees if we were together" - ross is like "stop it i already miss you enough as it is lol", and depending on how emo you are about being apart there's maybe a little tiny bit of phone sex (because ross is literally so hot you did actually get a bit turned on seeing the pic lol). and you commenting thirstily becomes a thing whenever ross posts a new pic; stuff like "need u in my bed rn lol" and "smash" or "would" and that one tweet template that like lists sex positions and then goes crazy like "on grass, on a spaceship, outside, NO BREAKS". and it generally does work out quite well for you and ross with the phone sex, but it all stops when you get to go on tour and thirst over him in person instead - the boys organised you flying out after adam snapped and tagged ross in a reply to one of your thirstier comments like "will you please just bring your wife on tour so i don't have to read these anymore? my eyes are burning i literally cannot take it" lol <3

[danosrosegarden]

WELCOME TO TUMBLR!! may i pretty please request a dano character of your choice with an ace reader? some fluff and comfort? 🥺🙏

We'll Never Have Sex - Timothy Klitz x Asexual!Reader

Contains: Very mild sexual/suggestive content (no explicit smut), reader being anxious for a bit, fluffy comfort.

Note: I know exactly who requested this. I would be happy to provide for you. ♡

There was magic in his touch, stardust glazing his groping fingertips. Maybe if you squeezed your eyes shut tight enough, it could feel like love instead of burning guilt.

"You want more?" Klitz asked in a raspy whisper, his lips disconnecting from yours. You nodded, your stomach twisted in tight knots. Everything your trembling hands touched felt so feverishly hot: Klitz's blushing cheeks, the pilly blanket underneath your bodies. The room was warm and sweaty and suffocatingly slick with want. Klitz wanted something from you that you couldn't give.

"Actually..."

Klitz kept kissing at your neck while his hands danced around your curves. "Hmm?"

"Stop," you whispered.

"Huh?"

"I want you to stop!"

He ripped away from you instantly, his eyes peeled wide open with shock. "Are you okay?"

You hated yourself for it, could've slapped yourself and tore your hair out in red hot, angry chunks. But you couldn't pretend you were enjoying it. You couldn't look at your boyfriend in his eyes, thick and syrupy with love, and lie.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to you softly. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

You shook your head, holding your knees in your quivering hands. "It's not you, Klitzy, it's me."

He cocked a brow. "What's the matter?"

Your stomach flipped as you sighed and looked deep into his eyes. "I guess now is good a time as any other to talk about it," you mumbled.

He looked confused, hurt. Kicked puppy. You wanted to scream.

"Klitzy, I don't...feel it."

He anxiously tore at a hangnail. "Feel what?"

You swallowed the tight lump in your throat and continued. "The way people feel about sex. Normal people. I don't feel that way. I can't make myself feel anything but detached."

"Hey, hey." He shook his head furiously. "You're normal, Y/N. I promise you are."

The lump weighed in the center of your throat like a heavy boulder. "You think so? Because I've only ever been made to feel broken."

His face fell as he wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. "That's wrong, Y/N. They're all wrong. You're not broken."

This is what true love feels like. It feels like a swell in the throat calmed. It feels like a soft hug burning bright in a quiet room. He loves you, Y/N.

"I'm glad I have you, Klitz," you spoke into his shirt.

"You don't ever have to do anything you don't want to."

You made a promise to yourself that night. You were more than wet kisses and groping touches. No more clogged vocal chords, no more quiet suffering. Only love. Can we do that, Y/N?

It was simple, you are sweetness, let's just sit awhile.