#so im definitely going to be sore but am i even going to be alive who knows | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

3terna15unshin3 · 2 years ago

Text

Then Because She Goes

Beautiful, please don’t cry, I love you

★ Chapter 3 of 15, 5727 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: alcohol consumption

<< 2

7 September, 2018

trumanblack: Agreed but also why does it control my entire life

trumanblack: I liked it tbh the simplicity of the writing was very charming and I liked its views on adhering to social pressure and blah blah blah

trumanblack: But towards the end Keiko drove me up the wall honestly she started getting sooo unlikeable and I was like Im running out of empathy

este.manansala: Omg especially in LA. That place is a fever dream

este.manansala: I’m glad u liked it at least a little bit !!!

este.manansala: That’s interesting tho bc I am a firm believer that a main character doesn’t need to be likeable to be a good character

trumanblack: No fr that’s why when I’m here I feel like I have to actively resist the gravity of every single LA resident turning me into the same caricature of a human that they all are

trumanblack: Hmmm I guess

trumanblack: But sometimes I feel like reading is inherently like a self-inserting practice even in third person perspectives so I can’t help but disconnect when I don’t fuck with the main girl u know

este.manansala: Yeah no I get it

este. manansala: I feel like a lot of female characters are deemed unlikeable for the same reasons male ones are sympathised with

Este pressed ‘send’ on the message as she thought back to her conversation earlier, with the customer looking for classics. She definitely used Matty's point about likeable characters to sell Emma, and completely understood where he was coming from; but she wanted to give him a hard time. She felt inclined to be playful and make him laugh, for some reason.

trumanblack: Ok damn

trumanblack: You’re right

este.manansala: I know :)

trumanblack: I’m part of the problem arent I

este.manansala: Probably but I’ll let you off the hook x

este.manansala: Are u gonna give me a book of essays to read now??

trumanblack: Wait I actually will

trumanblack: I read this collection called You Are Here: Art After the Internet by Omar Kholeif bc I saw someone on the train reading it and it was so good

trumanblack: I named the new album after one of the essays in it lolll

este.manansala: It seems very meta to be telling me to read that over instagram dms

este.manansala: I’ll try and pick it up tho!

este.manansala: Busy in LA?

trumanblack: It is meta that’s why you should read it

trumanblack: And yeah we need to have the final masters submitted for in 2 days so it’s go time

trumanblack: Just living in the studio pretty much

este.manansala: What are u doing messaging me in the middle of the day then like get back to it

trumanblack: Fuck off I’m eating lunch rn

trumanblack: What were you doing not responding to my message for weeks then????

este.manansala: … soz

este.manansala: Honestly never check my dms so i didn’t see it

este.manansala: Until I went to message you about Love It If We Made It bc it’s my favourite song of the year so far

este.manansala: Like actually

trumanblack: Este don’t say that if you don’t mean it :(

este.manansala: I’m being serious

este.manansala: I fully wrote paragraph about how much I like it and was about to send it your way and then I saw u messaged me first

trumanblack: That means so much. Really

trumanblack: Thank you x

trumanblack: But also u can’t just admit that and then not show me the paragraph. Like send it over pls

este.manansala: Yeah no way lol

este.manansala: Must keep the mystery alive somehow

Este finally looked away, for now. Her lower back was sore from sitting on their hard wooden chairs for a little too long, so she decided that it was a good time to get ready for bed. But, before she could, a buzz of excitement scraped goosebumps into her skin as Cate’s keys jangled in the door, eager to fill her in.

“Hey!” screamed Cate from the hallway, still out of sight from Este. The project for her biggest client of the year had just begun, so her hours became a bit unpredictable and she often arrived home late.

They caught each other up on how their days went, Este glad to hear that work was going well and Cate being particularly excited that Matty had reached out and taken a liking to her.

“It really isn’t anything crazy, we’re just talking about books and stuff,” Este tried, although a small flutter in her heart knew she was lying and that she ultimately was excited to even reveal it to Cate. “He’s just a cool guy. Really smart and friendly.”

Cate’s eyebrows raised, unconvinced. She dropped her coat into her room before reentering the main area to start the kettle. “Is he just a ‘cool’ guy or is he a ‘hot tumblr singer in a band who slid into your DMs’ guy?”

Este cringed at her wording and threw the mushroom sitting on her plate from dinner at Cate playfully. She dodged it in disgust.

“Just a guy, Cate. And he didn’t ‘slide into my DMs’, I just gave him a book recommendation and he told me what he thought of it,” Este argued.

“Whatever you say, babe,” she entertained. “It is kind of hot that he reads, though.”

They laughed as Este agreed, and they both headed off to bed.

✴ 18 November, 2018

To Este’s surprise, she and Matty continued to casually chat. It was mainly book talk; their personal lives only coming up occasionally. Neither of them expected responses to be consistent, especially with the busy pre-album schedule of Matty, who was now back in London. His work was also a reason why they hadn’t gotten through many books, him taking much longer to pick up anything Este shared, but the conversations were thoughtful and worth coming back to.

It was a struggle to find any titles Matty mentioned because of how obscure they were. Can this guy get any more pretentious? Este thought as she furiously searched for a copy of You Are Here: Art After the Internet online when they first messaged each other. Still, over a month later, she couldn’t track one down—not even on eBay. Matty thought he’d never hear the end of her complaints.

The chill November breeze came through Greenhouse quite frequently during Este’s Sunday shift. A mild autumn day with crunchy leaves scraping against the pavement seemed to always be busy for the book shop. The weather and aesthetic was perfect for the activity, leaving the store with a more frequent customer count while Este was busy dealing with an angry woman over the phone (the post lost the copy of Sapiens they’d ordered for her). It ate up all of her energy and left her on edge for the rest of her shift. So, when she felt a buzz coming from her phone and saw what the notification read, panic ran through her veins.

[este.manansala] trumanblack: Are u working today

Este’s eyes widened as she registered what the message most likely meant. There was no context, no ‘hello’ to preface, no warning—but in her gut, she knew. Matty is in town.

The frazzled state she was in only got worse as her mind thought of every awkward experience she’d ever lived and convinced her that seeing him again would out do them all. Using the term ‘self-destructive’ to describe her mindset was an understatement. Este couldn’t figure out what made her so anxious about facing Matty.

Thinking deeper about it, as she couldn’t distract herself this time around (despite the handful of customers she’d checked out since seeing his message), Este realised the nerves’ origin. He wasn’t just Matty like he was last time stepping foot in the shop—he was Matty Healy.

She tried not to let that change things, but it did. It brought on a certain reluctivity within Este’s messages. Never completely committing to being 100% herself when speaking to him—she defaulted to her ‘casual cool girl’ persona that she usually stored in her pocket to pull out in times of need.

She was scared that it would reach a point where it meant more to her than it did him. His face was on billboards that greeted Este on her way into work every day. The singles leading up to his album were at the top of the UK charts. Este couldn’t let their collection of DMs and developing friendship be an exciting thing in her life when it was, without a doubt, miniscule in his.

The longer she spiralled about it, the longer Este put off replying to his message, only getting to it a couple of hours before she had to close the shop.

este.manansala: Yea what’s up

She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so the three word response would have to do. Maybe it’s too late for him to stop by, she secretly hoped, loosening up her worries and busying herself with work once more.

After Este witnessed multiple customers sneeze near their poetry bay, a Swiffer duster insert found itself in her hand as she wiped away the thin layer of grey gunk atop the shelf. She hummed to herself as she dusted, not even realising that the melody she conjured up was the tune to one of Matty’s songs.

It was dark now, thirty minutes until close, and nobody had come in for around an hour. The crazy day was thankfully coming to a close; Este’s anxieties subsided after assuming that what she had endured would be it for the night. But, she assumed too soon.

The small, new wind chime Sam hung from the door just a few days prior made its twinkly exclamation.

“It’s not too late to come in, is it?”

Este turned to see Matty. It was actually him.

She smiled and wormed her way around the maze of bookshelves between them. “For you, yeah. Get out.”

Their eyes finally found each other and Matty spread his arms out, offering a hug. Este accepted and wrapped her own around him, just above his shoulders, as she felt his drop to her waist respectfully. He isn’t very tall, thought Este. And he smells good.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Matty sarcastically responded. “How’ve you been?”

They stood face to face in the open area by the front of the store.

“Good.” She nodded. “Same old, same old, really. I don’t have a massive album to release in two weeks or anything.”

He laughed quietly, taking off into the shelves. His steps were slow and calculated to sustain his attention to their conversation but his eyes scanned the book titles. “I guess that’s what I’ve got in the works,” he admitted. “It doesn’t feel like it’s that soon, though. I don’t think I’ve accepted the fact that it’ll just be out for people to hear,” he explained, pausing his movements for a second to pull a book off the bay and study the back cover.

“That one’s shitty. Read it last year.”

Matty raised his eyebrows at Este and placed the book where it belonged, in defeat. The trench coat she first saw him in was hanging off his body lazily. The tie-belt skipped one of the loops behind his back, and one side of it dragged drastically lower than the other along the floor. The coat’s square pockets were full and sagging.

Este followed his path as they continued through the shop, Matty repeatedly grabbing books to beg her blunt opinions. Every one he chose so far resulted in it returning to its place on the shelf within seconds of escaping. She knew the place like the back of her hand.

“What are you doing in Manchester, anyway?” she wondered.

Matty stopped and turned to her, flipping through another novel, this time satisfied with what he found. Shrugging casually, he responded, “Visiting a mate for his birthday, dinner and drinks at Head of Steam. Thought it would be more fun but it was sort of a drag, to be honest,” he complained. “Too much dinner and not enough drinks.”

“I was just about to ask, what sort of dinner and drinks end before,” she clicked open her phone to check the time. “…7:36pm.”

They both laughed and Matty shook his head. “Yup, that just about describes how exciting the event was.”

The book in his hands happened to be another Este had read, this time one she was fond of. “You should read that one,” she commented. “It’s new. Not sure how we managed to stock a used one already. I think you’d really like it.”

Matty continued flipping through it, stopping a couple of times to focus on certain pages, without saying anything. Suddenly, he sank down to the floor and sat comfortably, leaning his back against the shelf behind him. His legs were outstretched in front of him, straight, his feet almost touching the shelf opposite because of the cramped nature of the shop.

“Care to join me?”

He patted the patch of carpet next to him, and Este obliged. She sat on the floor next to his feet, laying her legs out like his were, and faced him as he studied the novel. Her phone lit up with the reminder she always set when working, making her aware that it was five short minutes until close. Usually, Este would take this time to ensure the shop was tidy for Sam to be greeted with the next morning, close up the register and deal with the float inside it. But, none of that crossed her mind with Matty sitting opposite her.

“On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Matty read. “What an interesting title.”

Este couldn’t stand that he was opening the novel to random pages and reading content without the important context, so she jokingly reached forward, laying her hands beneath his and forcing the book shut for him.

“You know books are meant to be read from the beginning, Matty.” She left them there for a second before pulling them away, Matty following her instructions and setting the book down in his lap.

“I always skip to random parts in books before I read them. Lets me know what I’ll be getting into,” he defended.

“That’s blasphemous to me. Especially with that book, because Vuong, the author, is a poet as well. Every sentence feels meaningfully placed,” she rambled.

“Wouldn’t that also mean that they stand well on their own? If every line is like poetry?”

“I guess, but that’s not the point. The context holds the weight of his words. When I read it, at least, I’d come across something that felt really powerful. And I’d just think, wow. That’s the point he was leading up to. That was the whole purpose of the pages of words beforehand. But then, I would read the following line, and suddenly that became the purpose. And it just never stopped metamorphosing, like he carried me through the book in the same way he made the revelations himself.”

He looked at her with fondness as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Matty could see the passion on her face and smiled in response. “You sold me. If you talk about all books like that, I understand why you sell them for a living,” he complimented.

Este leaned forward and pretended to bow. “My work here is done,” she joked. Her job being brought up prompted her to check the time again, seeing 8:02PM looking back at her from the screen. “Shit, it actually is. I have to close the shop.”

“Oh, sorry—”

“Don’t worry. I stay late all the time, just have to lock the door and flip the sign,” Este started, without thinking, as she got up from her spot on the floor to walk to the front. “That’s if you want to stay. You don’t have to, if you have somewhere to be, or if its weird to be locked in a bookshop on a Sunday night or something,”

“I’d love to stay.”

✴

She only kept two lamps on and then sat back down on the floor, not wanting Greenhouse to look too welcoming and inspire people to try and come in. The door was bolted shut, and On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous hadn’t left Matty’s grasp. Este wasn’t sure why she hadn’t offered him to sit at the table in the back room, but something felt natural about wedging themselves between the shelves. The carpeted floor was comfortable.

“I’m actually going to buy this from you, buy the way,” he clarified. His right foot was crossed over his left and slightly grazed Este’s left arm that fell next to her body.

“I’m not taking any money from you, Matty.”

“So I’ll just make you keep the shop open late and then steal an item from you?” he protested.

“I borrow books all the time, Sam doesn’t care. I’ll just tell him I let a friend borrow it.” She was being serious.

Matty accepted her offer, and thought about the item he brought in his pocket, debating on whether it was appropriate to even bring it out. It was oddly personal and he found himself doubting his idea, even though he didn’t think twice about it when leaving his flat earlier that morning.

“I can return the favour, then.” He pulled out his copy of You Are Here: Art After The Internet. The pages were yellowed and there were blue tabs messily sticking out of the side of it. Este realised what it was, shocked to learn that Matty was lending her his copy. “So you can stop complaining about not being able to find one.” He took Este’s hands that were resting in her lap, unravelled them to put the book in, and closed them back up to force her to hold it.

They made eye contact for a couple of seconds. Matty had never noticed how dark and straight her eyelashes were. They framed her eyes well.

“For me?”

Matty nodded.

Este fanned through the pages with her thumb, seeing every page for a split second. She noticed pen marks accompanying the printed text and wondered what each blue tab stood for.

“I see you’re the annotating type.”

“It’s cathartic,” he replied shortly. “Please don’t judge what I wrote, though. If you read anything stupid, just assume I was high, or something.”

To her, it felt like he was lending her his diary. She couldn’t imagine letting someone into the thoughts she had while reading a book, let alone the impulsive and quickly crafted ones worthy enough to be scribbled into the margins. It was an intimate act.

“This is really sweet of you,” she vocalised. “Now I feel like I owe you my copy of On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous instead of letting you borrow the shop’s.”

He raised his eyebrows in interest. “So you’re an annotator too?”

Este nodded and smiled. “I marked it up quite a bit, actually. It’s not here, though. It’s back at my flat.”

“Well, do you live far?”

✴

She rushed through her closing duties as Matty browsed some more. Her arms slipped into her fleece-lined denim jacket and her mind raced, trying to fathom the fact that he was about to be in her car (and later, her flat). As much as things had been easy and flowing naturally until now, the dilemma she considered earlier in the day still haunted her.

He was panicking almost as equally as Este. Suggesting they should go back to hers was a chaotically forward thing to do, and Matty instantly feared it would come off wrong. They both weren’t sure why they agreed, but did anyway. It felt wrong to end the night there.

Eventually, they were walking down the street together to get to her black Honda Accord that had gone far too long without a wash. Their conversation remained sweet and light, finally gracing the basics of getting to know each other.

“I went to school in Wilmslow, though. That's where I met the guys and when we formed the band,” he explained.

“This whole time I thought you grew up in the city.” She acted shocked. “You call Manchester your hometown. Liar.”

Este clicked the button on her car key and the headlights on her car flashed. Matty went around to the driver’s side to open her door for her, flashing her a smile. She smiled back. Chivalrous, she thought.

“I moved a couple times. I don’t know what my hometown is, really, I give a different answer every time—but it feels like home here. I just say I’m from the North of England. Wilmslow, Cheshire, Macclesfield, Manchester. Whatever,” Matty said, securing his seat belt and tucking the strap underneath his arm. “You grew up here, yeah?”

Her finger tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear as she carefully pulled into the road, before responding. “After I moved, yeah. On my seventh birthday I spent the whole day on a flight over to London from the Philippines. But I only lived in London for a couple of months before me and my mum and dad moved to Manchester.”

They drove in the dark, Matty asking her more questions about life in the Philippines and what it was like to move over. Este brought up her grandmother and how she and her husband stayed in London after finding a nursing job she didn't want to say no to. “My nan was my best friend growing up, so that was probably the only thing I didn’t like about Manchester when I came over. That she didn’t come along.”

Matty shoved his cold hands further into his pockets. “Speaking of your nan, actually,” he started. “On the plane to LA in August I was so bored out of my mind that I started organising the files on my computer. Then I found this picture.” He opened his phone, clicking on his iCloud files and scrolling through to find the photo.

Este interrupted before he could. “You can’t just say ‘Speaking of your nan…’ and then furiously search through your phone without explaining further!” she impatiently exclaimed, both of them erupting into laughter after realising how creepy it seemed.

“I swear, it’s not weird! Let me find what I’m looking for and then you’ll get it,” he defended.

It finally came up, and Matty held up his screen to show her. Este was in the middle of turning down her street, so it took a couple of seconds before she could break her attention to the road, but then eventually she studied the relic.

“Oh my god! That’s Lola!”

She was shocked. They both found it hilarious that Florencia and Matty had met before, a picture proving it.

“She was the best, honestly. Made the hospital way less of a horrifying place to be,” he gushed. “You should tell her, next time you see her. If she remembers me. Then maybe she can replace that horrid memory of me thinking her name was Lola with the fact that she nursed me back to health after getting my gallbladder removed.”

“She remembers you, for sure. I think she likes you more than I do, to be quite honest, so she’ll be excited to hear that you two go further back,” she joked.

Matty threw her an offended ‘Hey!’ in response.

They pulled into her flat’s parking spaces and Este took note of Cate’s car being absent from the spot beside her’s. A small wave of relief hit. No awkward flatmate introductions. A silence fell over them as they exited her car into the evening chill. Este didn’t have to ask if he wanted to follow her up, since he began doing so anyway. It was only 8:30, but time ticked slowly.

After getting through a couple of locked doors in the lobby, they comfortably entered the elevator, and Este pressed on the button with the 4 on it. The two stood next to each other and turned to face the doors, their shoulders brushing innocently.

“You know, we’re painfully pretentious for coming all the way here just so I could read your specific copy of that book. I literally already had one in my hands,” Matty pointed out.

A ding rang in the air as they passed the first floor.

“I know.” Este smiled. “I think that’s just who we are, though. You, a little more than me, but still.”

Another ding. Second floor.

“"I think we’re equally pretentious, but—” said Matty, but she cut him off by silently holding up the copy of You Are Here in her hands, proving her point. He flipped her off.

The forth ding was heard before the doors opened back up, Este exiting and letting Matty follow her. She was nervous for him to see her and Cate’s relatively small flat, but was glad that at least they kept it tidy; and, with time, found an appropriate position for the couch. They hadn’t said anything since reaching her floor, but not in a bad way.

She swung the door open, welcoming Matty inside. Walking past the kitchen and into the living area, he studied every detail of the space. He liked the small ceramic rabbits that were scattered through their very full plant stand, with greenery sticking out in every direction, and how each of them had a different expression. The prints hanging on the walls felt aged and added character to their maximally styled room. Matty assumed each piece had its own story.

Este hesitantly asked the question that had been tickling at her tongue the entire walk up to the flat as she removed her jacket and threw it onto the dining room table.

“Have time to stick around for a brew?”

He was hoping she’d ask him to stay. “Course,” agreed Matty. “You know, this is exactly what I expected your place to look like.” He copied her and removed his coat, setting it down on the couch and then taking a seat next to it.

She made her way back to the kitchen to start the kettle. “Really? Why?”

“Dunno. Really artsy and charming with tons of little trinkets. Endless amounts of things to look at—books and plants, just like the shop.”

Which mugs should I use? Este thought, opening the cupboard. Which mug of mine is the coolest? Has an interesting backstory? She shook her head to herself, embarrassed to be internally worrying about choosing a mug.

“Thank you. I think I’m just a hoarder, so the minute I find something cool I just stick it on a shelf either out here or in my room and then I’m bonded to it for life. My flatmate, Cate, is the same way so it’s twice as bad.”

Even after realising how stupid it was to care about what mug to give Matty, she still tried to pick her coolest one. It was a plain white ceramic mug that was sculpted to look like a slightly crumpled red Solo cup but with a handle. Este thought Matty would either love it or hate it, and wanted to find out which it would be; as if the answer would be revealing of his spirit, or something.

“Milk or sugar?” she asked, looking up to make eye contact with him for the first time in a couple of minutes.

Matty was already gazing at her, watching her potter around the kitchen. A blush spread over Este's cheeks after she noticed. “Just a dash of milk, please,” he told her, standing up to walk over to their kitchen island and lean against it. “I’m kind of the opposite of a hoarder. I own like three things in total.”

The kettle started whistling, signalling her to pick it up and pour their cups. “That doesn’t at all surprise me, Matty,” Este claimed while opening up the fridge to grab the milk. In it, she saw the case of Heineken she and Cate had bought last week. She cringed. “I’m also just now realising that I have beer in the fridge and it was really lame of me to offer you tea.”

Pouring the milk anyway, Este pushed Matty’s cup towards him.

He muttered a quick ‘thanks’ before taking a careful sip. “I mean, in a mug like this,” he pointed playfully at the eccentric Solo cup pottery. “Totally not lame.”

Este could hear the sarcasm in his voice, so she reached up and shoved his shoulder with her palm. “Hey, that’s like my best thrift find of all time. It’s edgy. The perfect combination of classic and modern. Practical, too.”

Their conversation continued for another half-hour as their teas dwindled in both fullness and temperature. He eventually asked for a tour of the flat, so Este showed him around, even letting him take a peek into her bedroom and its many more trinkets. In it, she picked her copy of On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous off her shelf and handed it to him. Matty accepted it, while continuing to throw compliments her way, commenting on the oozing personality of all of her belongings.

Looping back around after seeing the whole flat, the couch dipped as both of them took a seat, now with beers in hand.

“So, do you invite customers back to your flat very often?”

Este was slightly embarrassed by the nature of the question, but tried to play it off and replied, “Only the ones that are famous musicians.”

Matty took a swig of beer and set it onto the coffee table with a coaster beneath it. “Oh, I see. So this is a meet and greet.” They both laughed and silence fell upon them again. “I’m actually really nervous. For the album, I mean,” he admitted.

She looked over to him, her expression softening. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s just a bit scary. You know, people have been liking the songs so far, but the single we put out last month sort of has blown up my whole junkie, rehab, drug thing. So I feel a lot of pressure to say the right thing.”

“I mean, I feel like that just gives people a reason to connect to the album even more. Your art still holds its purpose—that emotional release.”

Matty smiled thankfully. “Thank you for calling my music ‘my art’. That really withholds this whole pretentious thing we've got going on," he said with a chuckle. “And seriously, thank you for liking Love It If We Made It. It’s cool to have a cool person like your stuff.”

“I love it. Really do,” she pushed. “And thank you for calling me a cool person.”

“You are.” Matty meant it.

His eyes trailed from the dimple on her left cheek to the chain dangling from her neck and further to the clothes draped on her body. “Is that necklace you wear a dragonfly? Or is it a butterfly?”

Este was confused at the randomness of his question but answered anyway. She could tell he was itching to know even the little things about her.

“It’s a dragonfly,” she confirmed, reaching up to fiddle with it and give Matty a closer look. “They remind me of my grandpa. Dragonflies love him. Back in the Philippines, he was a fisherman, so he spent a lot of time out by water. I have hundreds of memories of being with him near the ocean and seeing one land on the rim of his cap or even the tip of his nose.”

He smiled warmly at the sweet anecdote but left space for her to continue, liking that she responded to his questions with stories, not just answers.

“There aren’t many out here, though, especially since he lives in London and stays in the city. So I wear one around my neck instead,” Este explained. She studied his face as she sipped her beer. Matty was listening. It felt like he was looking through her, too.

After talking for as long as their minds took them, through topics big and small, light and dark, Matty decided he better make his way. “Shit, it’s 12:30. Might want to catch an Uber.”

“Where are you staying? I could drive,” Este offered.

He opened his phone to open the app and see the rides available, denying her kind gesture. A few clicks later, a car was on its way. “Oh please, don’t worry. It’s late. I’m just crashing at my mate’s—the one whose birthday I came in for. Taking the train back to London tomorrow morning for rehearsals,” explained Matty.

Este handed him his coat as they both stood up and slowly made their way over to the door. The Uber was minutes away, so they didn’t stop before leaving the threshold of her flat and taking the elevator down to the lobby.

“Rehearsals? Is tour happening that soon?”

“Not until next year. But, we have a show in Kingston the night before the album comes out. Shitting my pants about it, honestly, so we’ve been rehearsing like crazy,” he said as the elevator doors reopened to let them onto the ground floor, continuing to walk towards the main door. “You should come, if you’re free. We always leave room at the side of the stage for friends and family. I’d love for you to hear the new stuff live.” Matty now stood on the pavement, turning to face Este, who stood just inside the doorway. She grinned at his offer, appreciating his generosity.

“That would be amazing,” she agreed. “Let me know the details and I’d love to be there.”

He nodded at her and held up the book in his hands. “Thanks, for this. And tonight.”

Este likewise thanked him for the novel of essays that now sat on her coffee table upstairs. They shared a casual embrace to say goodbye, with Matty’s hands gracing the small of her back and hers meeting over his neck. She pressed her lips to his cheek, close to his jaw, holding it there briefly before letting go. Matty wished they stayed there a little longer.

One last ‘good night’ left their mouths as the car pulled up and Matty got in. He shot Este a small wave from behind the tinted car window.

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#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x oc #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy fic #Spotify #tbsg

35 notes · View notes

multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

Text

request; I am lusting for the emo boy 👉👈 Could I get something where the reader gives him a bj after he had a stressful day

warnings; bj, deep-throating, cussing, cum-eating, shuichi is receiving, reader is gender-neutral.

note; im trying to think of a song to go with this hold up- (yes thats all i have for my note, im running out of things to say-)

OH SHIT YES!!! SANGRIA?? BY EASY LIFE??? ARLO PARKS??? OR GET YOU BY DANIEL CAESER!!!!!

wc; 2k+

Slapping the screen of his work computer shut, the sudden and loud noise kept him awake for just a little longer. Shuichi brought both of his cold hands to his face, rubbing the eye bags that had formed as a result of his overworking and lack of sleep.

“God…” It took him everything he had to not yell into his slightly trembling hands. His fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he stood up from the chair that had made his backside ache, breathing out the pent-up stress he had cultivated throughout the… He checked his watch, drooping eyes barely able to read the hands of the miniature clock.

—The twelve hours of sitting down, typing in and submitting in files, piled onto files regarding a tough case. He’d be lying if he wasn’t at least a little used to this shit work ethic.

The first thought his mind allowed him to possess after draining his brain completely out of energy, had been, ‘S/o...-, I hope they didn’t forget to eat today.’ He hadn’t gotten the chance to monitor you, nor text or call you; his phone, to kick off the day, hadn’t charged properly the day before, leaving his phone with 3%. The moment he had tried to text you mid-way through his extended work period, his phone had given up on him, leaving him frustrated and worried.

Sighing, he quickly packed up his things, ready to leave the suffocating, but honestly quite nicely designed office— to see you. He was so close to just falling asleep on the nice, cold surface of his computer, but the thought of you waking up to an empty bed had his heart, crumbling over something he hadn’t done yet. And hadn’t planned to do, either.

Exiting the office, he called a taxi as he was too deprived of sleep to safely drive.

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

Hearing the door open, you immediately rushed to the front door, almost slipping on the waxy surface of the wood floor against your fuzzy socks.

Pulling back, your eyes held a different emotion as you gazed into Shuichi’s tired but loving orbs; your eyes no longer contained the same soul-crushing worry for him. Instead, they had held a needy lust. Could you blame yourself? It had been twelve hours. Shuichi let out a quiet startled noise as you started dragging him to the couch, he did nothing but let you; too tired to ask what you were doing despite having the sneaking suspicion he already knew. No one can overlook a stare like that; you’d have to be blind to.

Pushing him onto the couch with little effort, he watched with intrigued eyes as you got to your knees and sat in between his knees, your own gaze locking onto his as you lowered yourself to the point where you had to crane your neck to properly see his pretty, flushed face.

Golden eyes flashed in need, small whines spilling from his trembling lips as he slightly parted his thighs for you to drag your fingers further up into. “You worked all day, Shuichi… C’mon, just a taste?” You looked up at him, doe eyes pleading and tongue swiping across your bottom lip entrancingly, as Shuichi’s golden eyes followed the glistening muscle. He could already imagine your tongue swirling around the tip of his—

“A-a little… A little taste. Please.” Ten hours of neglect, and the craving for his musk only augmented with each agonizing second that passed by. His eyes widened at the sultry tone you equipped; had he really worked so long to the point you were on your knees for him? “I...”

Yes, yes he had. It had been twelve hours, and you were worried sick. Not only that, the poor boy looked so tense and stressed, it had given you the urge to just strap him to the bed and force him to sleep, and nothing else. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have allowed himself the proper amount of hours of sleep, and food he needed to stay alive.

A part of him didn’t want to take advantage of your state, but a part of him already knew you wouldn’t let up until you got what you wanted; it’s not like he detested the idea of getting sucked off. “O-okay.”

He let out a small gasp as he felt you suddenly play with the zipper of his pants, your fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing against the growing erection he hadn’t noticed he had. You watched him carefully, fighting the urge to laugh as he arched his back against the couch; you didn’t want to embarrass him, you simply wanted to help him de-stress.

Deciding you’d focus more on him than your own sadistic desires, you quickly halted your teasing and zipped open his fly, wasting no time to reach down the waistband of his navy blue boxers and pin-striped pants, erupting a gasp from him as he hadn’t been expecting it to escalate so fast.

Gingerly, you pulled out the hardening cock that seemed to twitch in your hold, only causing you to smile at the cute reaction. Though Shuichi’s facial expression had been incomparable to his cock. You had barely down anything to him, and his whole entire face flushed red, a hand already clamped over his mouth that concealed the lip he had been chewing at so aggressively.

Stroking your thumb over the pretty pink tip of his cock, you cooed at it, already finding yourself craning your neck down to kiss the tip of it, causing Shuichi to jolt up from the light but impactive pressure on the tip of his cock. He found himself getting more alert, differing from his previous state of mind where he had barely been able to register what had been happening at the door.

Tired, lolling eyes from earlier converted into wide, lustfully lidded golden eyes that bore into your own coloured irises. The only difference between the two pairs of eyes had been the soft domineering gaze you set upon the boy who seemed to be putty in your hands and mouth.

Winking at him, you felt confidence grow in you as you heard him slightly whimper and wine through the futile coverage of his hand over his mouth, and so, with suave, you slid the eager cock into your mouth, tapping it over your lips and tongue before deciding to suck the entire thing in, in one go. The near-scream Shuichi emitted definitely helped you take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You let out a small hiccup as you felt him throbbing in your throat, eyes wide and nose deep in the base of his shaft as your lips had almost been able to kiss the base of his cock. Keyword; almost.

With tear-filled eyes, you moaned onto his cock that only seemed to fit in half of your mouth before you started gagging. The small choked gasps from your side seemed to be in earshot of Shuichi, as he reached down to check on you- his hand was caught mid-way as you took a deep breath through your nose and fit the rest of his length down your throat. At this point, tears had been falling down your face uncontrollably, and you had been too busy massaging the base of his cock and balls to try and wipe them off.

“S-S/o— Y-you shouldn’t- F-fuck, I’m already so close, please don’t stop…!” He whined in a broken voice, head spinning and eyes rolling to the back of his head as he practically heaved out pants against the couch behind him. You felt your own thighs tremble as you heard him lose character, cussing; something you didn’t know he’d ever do. It sounded foreign in his voice, but was it strange that you actually liked how it sounded?

Moans and pleas spilled out of his drooling mouth like a running faucet; he noticed it only seemed to egg you on, in which, he wasn’t sure he liked or feared. He was highly certain he wouldn’t be able to last long—the thought hit him like an 80-pound brick as you dragged your tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock. “Hhnn- Ah—!” He let out an embarrassingly high moan, though he didn’t seem to care enough to tend to the humiliation, as he had currently been occupying his mind with the fact you had been sucking him off and sucking him off good.

His neck and thighs twitched as he writhed, not able to hold back the urge to pull your hair as he felt like he was going to lose it if he didn’t. Reaching down quickly, he yanked your hair upwards, in a force that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. It seems, even during moments like these he was always gentle with you.

Rewarding him for the action, you hummed muffled praises he couldn’t hear, but could definitely feel the effect of it against his cock. Vibrations shot up from between his legs to up the trail of his spine, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body.

You felt his clammy hand that had kept hold of your hair, push you down onto his length roughly, causing you to stifle a surprised choke as you felt his tip hit the very back of your throat. “S-Shui—” You couldn’t even say half his name properly.

With tears streaming down your face, you shut yourself up and took it, bobbing your head up and down faster—to which he rewarded you with shaky, blissful sobs. God, did you wish you could see his expression right now.

At the thought, your slightly red eyes darted up to his face, which seemed to be staring right back at you with his own tear-brimmed gaze. “S-S/o...!” He whined out, a few stray tears falling as he felt his climax approach him. Throwing his head back, you lost sight of his flushed, slobbering face as he rested the back of his neck against the couch.

“Close..! Close! Hah- Hnngg! Please, I need to- to—!” Shuichi cut himself off, mouth contorting into an ‘O’ shape as he tensed his thighs underneath your clawed grip, feeling his well-deserved orgasm finally hit him. You suctioned your mouth around his length especially hard, eyes squeezing shut as you felt him pulsating against the walls of your sore throat.

You could feel the milky white, nearly translucent cum shoot down your throat and, as you usually do, you let it slip down your throat with no complaints—and it wasn’t as if you could try spitting it out; Shuichi’s cock had been so far down your throat, he had been practically been shooting it directly down your throat, giving you no chance to swallow.

You felt his cock shudder, twitch and go flaccid in your mouth; so with a final drag of your lips, you trapped any leftover semen within the insides of your lips and licked whatever had escaped the bindings of your aching mouth. Shuichi remained heaving against the couch, his hand that had previously been holding onto your hair with a death-grip, weakened and dropped to the side of your face.

Bringing his head back down from the thrown back position on the couch, he stared down at you who had still been seated between his legs, your cheek resting against his thigh as you watched him with a soft and infatuated gaze. After such a feat, to look at him like that; he felt like he was on cloud 9. He truly wondered what he had done to deserve a blow job like that, and someone like you to give him such a thing after neglecting you for twelve hours, he felt terrible for you yet also fortunate to have you. His gaze, despite still fucked-out and slightly mind-blown, held worry for you.

With his already red face going even more crimson, he brought his hand down to the side of your head to stroke your face tenderly. Still heaving out pants, he stuttered out quiet words of gratification, “... T-thank you. For that.” To which you only grinned cheekily at, head turning to gently nibble and kiss at the inside of his thigh, causing a small yelp to erupt from him.

Your hand gripped onto his thigh, making sure to immobilize him and his squirming as you sucked a hickey onto his thigh. “Hh-!” Shuichi could only whimper at the pressure, his free hand going up to wipe away the tears that formed from earlier, and the ones that had been forming currently.

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many-gay-magpies · 2 years ago

Note

OH HI DKSJDJS YES IT IS VERY LATE ITS ABOUT 5AM RN IM ON A TRAIN TO THE AIRPORT THATS WHY IM UP I WOULD USUALLY NEVER BE ALIVE AT THIS HOUR

okay wait that’s kind of precious those walkers are so cute and tbh they Are helpful!! but JDJAJD that’s a funny way to pull muscles— so for your sides you’ll wanna do an oblique stretch like in this photo:

just reaching over to the sides like that, and for a deeper stretch you can set your feet apart, bend at the waist, and grab hold of one ankle at a time, you’ll feel that in the side opposite of the ankle. for your back maybe a child’s pose? or even just bending at the waist w feet apart and letting the torso hang down. that part under your thighs, the inside of the knee up can be released with a hamstring stretch!

something like this— you wanna made sure your hips are back so you feel it in your leg, or you can do one lying down and just pulling your leg up, trying to keep it straight and holding it there w your hands (it’s no longer letting me add pictures idk why) anyways sorry for like word vomiting stretches to you JDKSJDS i’ve just been there Too many times and particularly sore hamstrings are the bane of my existence ! so i try to help others avoid this !

as for how i do it: 1. having your own skates is an absolute game changer i can never go back to rentals i think i’d crash and burn and die 2. i stayed consistent with it for years 3. i am a mild masochist i suppose?? skating seriously gets you very accustomed to pain and getting banged up and sometimes the mark of a successful session is being bruised up from falling JDJAJDBS it’s part of the process ! idk i’ve sold my soul to the sport

jdbdjfh thank u thank u!! these are all very helpful and i will definitely be trying them out tomorrow after i wake up! :3

#asks #lettie ✒️#my sore muscles appreciate your word vomit

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procrastinatorimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Break In

Fandom: 9-1-1

Character/s: Eddie x Reader, Buck, Maddie, Christopher

Warning/s: assult, battery

Word Count: 2,568

Request: Hi please can I request a 911 imagine where I'm buck and maddies younger sister and Eddie's wife and one day when christopher and eddie go shopping and I'm at home our house gets broken into (robbery) and I get beaten up but im ok and eddie and the team (118) look after me after I get out of hospital and I find out I'm pregnant while I'm in hospital but the baby is alright

It was the shock, you thought to yourself, it had to be, why else would your mind keep drifting to the ceiling, why had you let your husband, Eddie Diaz, paint it like that? You’d have to remind him to change it, you decided, eyes going blurry as the pain in your head intensified.

Why were you even looking at the ceiling anyway? Oh right... you were on the floor. But why were you on the floor? That was a pretty silly place to be, had you fallen?

No, you remembered, groaning in pain as you slowly brought your arm up to your head, it was wet and warm, blood... You’d been pushed, you remembered now, Eddie and Christopher had gone shopping but you’d insisted on staying at home, you’d had some paperwork to take care of and you’d wanted a nice soak in the bath... That’s when it happened, you’d heard noises downstairs while the water was running so you’d turned it off to listen, thinking your boys were home early.

You’d gone to greet the footsteps making their way up the stairs, stopping in your tracks on the landing when you saw a man that was very much not your husband, black mask over his face, bag in one hand and bat in another. He’d paused too, clearly surprised to see you, and you’d stood facing each other for what felt like a strangely long time, each of you wondering what you were supposed to do now.

Then you’d tried to step away, that’s right, you realised, and he’d lunged as you turned, grabbing you to stop you from running as you screamed, throwing your elbow back and making contact with his face as he stumbled back, allowing you a second to scramble forward before he regained his balance. He’d swung out with his bat, connecting with your side as you stumbled into a unit, you hadn’t fallen over but you’d been stalled long enough for the man to reach for you and grab you by the hair, tossing you onto the ground hard.

You’d rolled over to try and crawl away but he’d grabbed your leg, pulling you back and connecting his fist with your face, taking a bat to your stomach as you tried to claw at him, doubling in pain as you screamed for help in the hopes that anyone could actually hear you.

He hadn’t liked that, hitting you again to try as he yelled at you to “shut up bitch”, but you were a Buckley, you’d been raised to be scrappy, to fight back, so when you’d managed to get one leg free enough you aimed your knee directly into his groin with all your strength, using his temporarily stunned state to scramble to your feet and run to the stairs.

Sadly, it wasn’t temporary enough, and you’d been struck again, one foot hovering over the first step as the bat connected to the lower part of your back. No matter how hard you tried to hold on to the bannister you’d lost your footing, folding into yourself as you tumbled helplessly down the stairs.

Then it had gone dark.

Not for long, that much you were sure of, you could still hear rummaging in your kitchen, or maybe your living room, the sound of things smashing and furniture falling was probably what aroused your from your short unconscious state. Still, this wasn’t good, your head felt heavy and you were so dizzy you thought you’d pass out again if you tried to sit up. Or worse, you thought, and your assailant would discover you were awake again, if he even thought you were still alive.

Where was Eddie? You felt a tear slip down your face as you stared at the blood on your hand. A shadow fell over part of your person and you let out and involuntary sob, straining your eyes to see the man, bag full of your things, tightening his grip on his bat.

You readied yourself for a blow that never came, for as he began to take a step towards you, sirens sounded from down the street, causing him to freeze in alarm, glancing around before running back into your kitchen, presumably out your back door.

Seconds later your front door was being thrown open, the neighbours must have heard the commotion after all, as Athena ran in, gun in hand, holstering it and falling to her knees beside you when she spotted you at the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, hands going straight to your head

“Back... door...” You managed to mumble and she ordered her men to pursue him while she radioed for an ambulance stat, heading momentarily into another room to grab a cloth to apply pressure to your head.

It was agonising, but at least you were alive, you were safe. “I got you,” Athena reassured you, doing a quick scan of your body for any other immediate damage. “You’re going to be okay Y/N, it’s going to be okay.”

“Eddie- He’s out with Christopher...” You managed to start saying, but you didn’t need to finish for her to know what you meant.

“I’ll call him, he can meet us at the hospital, Buck and Maddie too, don’t worry,” She radioed dispatch again to tell them to hurry up as your eyes sight began to narrow, darkness at the edges of your vision threatening to consume you.

You could hear more sirens now, but they sounded like they were getting further away and not closer, or maybe you were just losing consciousness, you realised as you eye lids started to drop.

“No, no, Y/N, stay awake for me okay,” Athena put her hand on the side of your face looking you in the eyes as you tried to force them back open. “The ambulance is here now okay, it’s going to be okay.” You were vaguely away of paramedics rushing in, not ones that you recognised though as Athena reluctantly stepped aside to let them take a look at you.

They were talking, but you couldn’t really make out what they were saying as they hauled you onto a backboard and took you outside, loading you into the ambulance. Athena looked like she wanted to climb in with you, but she couldn’t leave her car, so she said something about following behind, and that they had to take good care of you, but by that point all you wanted to do was sleep.

So, despite the paramedics trying to tell you otherwise as the ground beneath you began to move, you let your eyes finally close and you drifted away.

There was bright white light when you woke up, and you struggled to open your eyes, willing them to focus as you heard noise in the room. A hand was in yours, and as soon as you began to try and move your head to get a sense of your surroundings you heard someone stand up, holding your hand tighter as they looked over you.

You relaxed and smiled when you realised who it was, realised where you were. “Eddie,” you muttered and he kissed your hand, calling in a doctor to check on you.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” his voice cracked, relief rushing over him, but concern still in his eyes.

“How long was I out?” You asked, realising just how dry your mouth and throat were. Trying to swallow you glanced around for some water, struggling to reach the cup you could see on the side as Eddie brought it to your lips.

“A few hours, you had a bit of a minor bleed from where you hit your head, the doctors went in to stop it so you were under for a bit,” he explained as you drank, never knowing lukewarm water to taste so good. “You scared me, I thought- I love you and-” he admitted, or tried to, stroking the side of your face gently as he spoke.

You kissed his hand lightly as he put the water away. “I love you too, and I’m okay, I have a new found respect for pinatas, but I’m okay,” you smiled as he laughed moving away to give a doctor who had just entered space to check you out.

On his heels came Buck and Christopher, Maddie just behind them, all clearly relieved that you were okay. Christopher came to give you a hug as the doctor checked over your charts.

“You woke up!” Eddie picked him up slightly to hug you, aware of your limited mobility as you tried to sit up to hug him, very much feeling the bruise on your stomach as you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

You could tell he’d been crying, not wanting to let you go as Maddie came and squeezed your hand, Buck planting a kiss on the top of your head as Christopher hung onto you.

“Okay buddie let’s give her some space,” Eddie suggested, lightly pulling Christopher away from you as you tried not to wince, not wanting him to see you in any pain.

“How’s you head?” He asked carefully.

“That’s what I was about to ask,” the doctor on your other side said and you turned to face him. “Dr Finch,” he introduced himself, offering out a hand for you to shake.

“It’s definitely sore, but I’ll manage,” you informed him, noticing how he kept glancing at your chart, then back to you, and then to your visitors, his eyes suggesting that maybe there was more that you didn’t know. “I am okay, aren’t I doc?”

You felt Eddie’s hand slip back into yours as Doctor Finch reviewed your chart. “Are you the husband?” He asked and Eddie nodded, face serious as Doctor Finch tapped his pen against the clipboard. “Maybe it would be best if we had a little bit of privacy,” he said finally, glancing to your siblings and Christopher.

“I want to stay!” Christopher argued but Buck put a hand on his shoulder, face fully of worry.

“It’s okay, we’ll be right outside,” Buck told him as he tried to lead him out, only going after a pleading look from his father.

“Right outside,” Maddie repeated gently, the unsaid promise that they’d be here for you no matter what being very clear as she relunctantly followed the other two back into the hall.

Only when the door was closed did you turn back to the doctor, squeezing Eddie’s hand tighter. “So...?” What was going on? Had they found something during the surgery? You mind was swirling with guesses as you awaited an answer.

“Well Mrs Diaz, while we were conducting your blood tests we discovered a change in your hCG levels, that means-” you interrupted him then, knowing full well what that meant.

“I’m pregnant?” You finished for him, swallowing hard as you looked to your husband, who was in turn looking back at you in shock.

“Yes,” Doctor Finch replied, but there was a grave look on his face as your hand drifted to your belly, memories of that bat flashing through your mind.

“Am I... still pregnant?” You asked tentatively, fear building up inside you as you realised why he’d wanted just the two of you in here.

“That’s what you’re here to find out, right?” Eddie asked the doctor as he stroked his thumb over your hand, trying to sooth your nerves, or his own, as the doctor nodded, getting an ultrasound machine ready.

You took a shaky breath as Eddie kissed you, eyes full of love and worry. “It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” he muttered to you as Doctor Finch asked you to life up your hospital shirt, applying cold cream to your belly.

“Am I okay to proceed?” He checked, scanner in hand as you looked to be blank monitor, dreading what was about to appear on the screen. You and Eddie had talked about having children some day, but you’d only been married six months and with the demanding jobs you both had, it wasn’t something you’d been trying for right now. But still...

“Do it,” you told him, eyes not leaving that screen as you felt the pressure of the scanner, Doctor Finch moving it around slowly as you and Eddie watched on. It didn’t seem like either of you were breathing as the agonisingly slow seconds ticked by. You’d shut your eyes, trying to stop yourself from crying, when you’d heard that thump, that unmistakable sound of a heart beat, and you heard Eddie let out a sigh of relief.

Opening your eyes you stared at the small and blurry image on the screen, a smile spreading across your face as Eddie leaned his head against yours. Doctor Finch paused the monitor on a good angle and turned to you.

“Congratulations,” he told you both sincerely.

“Is it okay?” You asked, eyes fixated on the screen as he handed you some paper towels to wipe off the gels. Your hand staying on your belly after you did.

“I’d certainly like to keep you here, at least over night, to monitor everything, you suffered a fair amount of bodily trauma and you’d definitely have to take it very easy, but from what I’m seeing right now, that’s a healthy baby,” he explained, excusing himself so you and Eddie could process this in private.

“I’ll be back in to check on you very soon, would you like me to send in the others?” He asked and you and Eddie looked to each other, joy on both your face as you agreed.

They came in quickly, still looking concerned, but that soon fell when they saw your faces.

“Well your faces don’t say that you’re dying...” Buck noted.

“What’s going on?” Maddie wondered as Christopher came over to you and Eddie, his father kneeling down to his level and tustling his hair.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

“Everything great kiddo,” Eddie replied, Maddie wandering over to you as you looked at Eddie and Christopher, your family was here, and it was about to be getting a little bigger.

“We do have some news though,” you told them, realisation dawning on Maddie’s face as Buck looked on confused.

“What kind of news?” He asked as Maddie’s hands went to her mouth.

“Oh my god,” you practically squealed as Buck continued to look at his two sisters.

“Oh my god what, Y/N what’s going on?” Maddie bent down to tug you tightly so Buck turned to Eddie, “can someone tell me what’s going on?”

“We’re having a baby,” Eddie said softly, still looking at his son to gage his reaction.

“Wait, seriously?” Buck’s mouth dropped as Maddie pulled away, both of you wiping tears from your eyes as you nodded to your brother, his confused expression turning overjoyed as he laughed, coming over to hug you next.

“A baby? I’m going to be a big brother?” Christopher repeated, looking from you to his dad and then back again.

“You okay with that Chris?” Eddie asked genuinely.

“Of course!” He replied, grinning wildly, hugging his dad as Eddie lifted his off of his feet.

Soon the whole room was full of congratulations and hugs, your hand barely leaving your belly as you watched your family, so grateful for everything you had, all the love in the room.

This was going to be one lucky baby.

#eddie diaz #911 #911 fox #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fox #eddie diaz imagine #911 imagine #911 fox imagines #eddie diaz imagines #911 imagines #911 fox imagine #imagine #imagines

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devak66 · 4 years ago

Text

A Dreamon’s Freedom

finally. this is part one. there will be part two of literally the next day eventually. i have to say that this was all planned before Dream killed tommy so im going based on that. ok? ok.

@pawesome28-x have fun with this

word count:1675

The day had finally come. Dream smiled as he stepped out of Pandora’s Vault, his eyes looking at the sky, the moon shone overhead. He was free. He got out of prison alive, the only real issue is the damage to his mask. A large crack crept to partway down the center of if, luckily it can be repaired. A grin crept across his face as he took a step further, but was immediately pulled back by the shackles around his wrists. Sam was keeping his gaze on Dream while he talked to Tubbo “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Tubbo looked over to the chained man, those small dots of eyes in the mask that covered his face almost staring into him, Tubbo shook off whatever fear had overtaken him and nodded “yeah. I'm sure”

Sam sighed, there had been days of planning and discussion before this night. The warden still wasn't sure if this was a good idea at all, Dream could have been controlling what information tubbo had been gaining about Dreamons, maybe it was a mistake for letting him talk to the prisoner at all “He is to be watched over at all times, i will be coming by randomly to make sure nothing is happening, if i find that he is alone, much less with Ranboo, in a space he could easily escape, he will be coming back to the prison, and he won't be coming back out”

Tubbo nodded, hesitantly taking the chain attached to Dream’s restraints and the key to unlock them for if that time comes “Trust me, I know, i have plans and preparations to keep him from getting away”

“And i have seen them, i am just reminding you” Sam said, then paused, his expression softening for a moment “I’ve been talking to Sam Nook, Tommy is doing better emotionally after everything, but i think it would be for the best he doesn't know about this… situation”

“I know, and i have plans for that as well” Tubbo said

“Can we get on with this?” Dream asked “I just really want to see Ranboo, I’ve missed him so much”

“Stay alert, no matter what,” Sam said, Tubbo just nodded in response. At that, Tubbo walked away, to the direction of Snowchester, bringing the green man along with him.

The silence on the journey was strained, and it would have most likely stayed as so, if Dream had not piped up with “I realize this might be too much to ask, but is there any way that i could get something to mend my mask when we get to your base?”

Tubbo thought a bit, would he have anything? Should he even help him? He nodded as he asked a question he never realized he always had, “why do you always wear that mask?”

Dream wasn't sure whether to give an honest answer as they walked along the bridge to Snowchester. If he answered truthfully, he could be able to help Tan… no.. he's Ranboo now. Little Tantabus is gone. Now it's Ranboo. He isn't sure if he should tell the truth about the mask, Tubbo could use it against him, proving that he isn't safe to be out of the cell. No… tubbo asked for him. He wouldn't have him sent back, not until Ranboo is in a better state of mind.

Luckily for Dream, he wouldn't have to answer yet, as both he and Tubbo noticed a figure almost… waiting for him. Dream shivered at a cold breeze of the tundra woods, but this figure just stood there, staring at them with his piercing gaze. Tubbo swore to himself as he went over to the enderwalking Ranboo, pulling Dream alone. Dream hadn't noticed, but the axe at Tubbo’s side was firmly clasped, as if to keep someone from too easily having access to it. Dream looked from the axe over to his brother. He had definitely changed since he had last gotten a chance to talk to him. The main one being… burn scars… they covered part of his cheek and his neck, most likely there is much more that's covered by his clothes, much thinner than anyone should be wearing in this weather. Dream scowled at seeing the burns but kept his mouth shut. He simply observed as Tubbo took a small blanket from his bag, almost as if this… happened to be routine. Looking at the footprints in the snow, this area was often visited by most likely Ranboo in this state. Dream would have wondered why this spot specifically, but he could tell… it has a perfect view of the prison.

There was a gentle tug on the shackles as Tubbo was starting to head over to Snowchester, hand on Ranboo to help lead the enderwalking hybrid to bed. Dream understood and walked along with Tubbo, not like he had much of a choice. Dream piped up and said, after a few moments of walking through the snow, seeing hints of a scuffle in the snow, where a circle had been drawn in the snow, and the remnants of footsteps, new and old, he said “So… he’s still doing this?”

“What do you mean still? As far as i know this is quite new” Tubbo said, somewhat concerned about what he’s going to find out

“Before L’Manberg’s final destruction, Ranboo had been helping me with some things” Dream saw Tubbo stiffen, a glimmer of potential distrust in the eyes of the goat was leading the sleepwalking hybrid “Not like that. He would be like this, yet more… awake. He’d help me gather materials. At one point I had even given him one of Tommy’s discs, for safekeeping” Tubbo flinched when he heard this “When he was in this other state is when I got his memory book, he gave it to me. This doesn't mean you should blame him, far from it. I’m just sure you wanted to know. Also that this state is very different from the other state i knew”

This got Tubbo’s attention, he glanced over to the masked man. They were already at the small settlement that is snowchester. As he unlocked the door, he asked “How so?

Dream looked around at his.. I guess… home for the time being “He was a lot less… aimless. He’d actually talk to me. It's as if…” Dream trailed off

“The lack of a goal or plan made him more distracted” Tubbo finished, getting Ranboo to a second bed that had been set up on the main floor for when this happens and lay him down to rest

“I wouldn't say so. I can guess he goes to that spot a lot, is this true?” Tubbo nodded hesitantly

“That spot is relatively close to the prison, maybe he missed me. Maybe his subconscious was… planning something” Dream suggested

Tubbo didn’t know what to say, so he just mumbled as he went and locked the front door, which had been set so it could lock from the inside with a key. One of the many precautions he had made before this night “I… I’m going to bed. Don't bother escaping, there’s traps everywhere. Some designed to take your last life” he said, not looking at Dream. Tubbo went upstairs, leaving the shackled man in silence. But not even a minute later, Tubbo came back with a small bottle of epoxy “Almost forgot!” He went to give Dream the bottle but then realized that Dream wouldn't be able to do much with the bindings. Tubbo hesitated before saying “I’m going to take your restraints off for a bit… don't try to do anything. If you kill or even hurt Ranboo or i then you will be brought back to the prison”

“I didn’t plan to. I swear, I'm here to help Ranboo. I don't want to hurt anyone” Dream said. Tubbo nodded and, using the key, he unlocked the shackles and gently pulled them off. Dream was surprised how… well Tubbo was treating him. Dream rubbed his sore wrists. Why was tubbo being so nice? He had threatened his last life. He had taken two of Tommy’s lives. Why was Tubbo being so… kind…?

“I’m doing this for Ranboo” Tubbo said, as if he could tell what Dream was thinking “I wouldt even consider doing this if it wasn't for ranboo” He handed Dream the small bottle of epoxy “I’m going to head to bed. I’m sure you’ll find somewhere”

Dream simply nodded, watching the small goat head to his bed. When tubbo sat on the bed, Dream said “I didn’t actually tell you why i wear the mask”

“You don’t have to tell me” Tubbo yawned “At least not right now” Tubbo hummed sleepily before saying “I know what you can tell me about though”

“What would that be?” Dream asked, sitting at a table to prepare to fix his mask

“About Ranboo.. When he was little” Tubbo said as he lay in bed, he wasn't at the best angle to be able to see Dream, so he could be comfortable to take off his mask, which Dream did. The mask needed to be repaired before…. Bad things happened

Dream thought a bit as he prepared to repair the mask and said “Well, I did not know him as ‘Ranboo’, I knew him as Tantibus. I guess our parents had a pattern” he chucked a bit at the memory “Dream and Nightmare” he heard Tubbo laugh a bit at that “Anyways, We weren't always with our parents for… many reasons… so it was just Tantibus and I most of the time. I remember I'd often find him playing outside our shelter, sitting in some flowers. He would always have fun. Sometimes we’d have adventures in the trees, play hide and seek…” Dream was smiling at the memories. He only stopped talking when he heard Tubbo’s gentle snores. He looked back at the mask in his hands and set to work repairing it. Maybe staying here won't be so bad

#dream smp au #dreamwastaken #HDRAU #half dreamon ranboo au #half dreamon ranboo #dreamon dream #this was fun #awesamdude #dream smp #warden awesamdude

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 5 years ago

Note

CAN I GET ME SOME PETER FROM BOC? (I promise he's overage ajdjfjff) he has no content and he's just,,,adorable 🥺

listen here, I’m now head over heels for Peter and I’m blaming you

WHAT A MAN,,,

I hope this doesn’t disappoint, it’s full of feels and there is a LOT to unpack here! I based it on this set of headcanons I did a while back wherein someone saved the circus members and nursed them back to health, so that person (tho I went with a lady) is this reader’s boss

also this got WAY longer than I meant it to but considering the absolutely criminal lack of Peter content, I don’t think you’ll mind

Sometimes, on nights when it’s warm, you’ll find those two sitting in the courtyard behind your employer’s manor.

(Mistress) never told you what the story was with these circus performers, and as far as you know, she’s never told any of the other servants either. Hell, she may not even know herself. If PETER and Wendy are anything to go by, this lot doesn’t open up easily. They’ve all been living here for six months, and the only thing you really know is that (Mistress) took them in after finding them horribly injured, that Peter and Wendy are basically adults stuck in bodies which never matured, and that they used to be trapeze artists in their troupe.

They’re both very hard to read, though Wendy is marginally friendlier than her brother. The two of them seem closer to each other than even to the other members, and the whole lot of them keep to themselves, perhaps trying to avoid the household’s staff entirely, so you’ve not had much interaction with any of them.

These two, though? They intrigue you; Peter in particular. He seems on edge all the time, a shock that so much anger seems to exist in someone so small. Even if you didn’t trust their word that these two aren’t children, you would know he was an adult. No child is that angry all the time without any discernible reason.

You just want him to be able to relax. Whatever the reason he’s always ready to fight, he would be so much less stressed if he could let go of it just a little bit. Doesn’t he know he and his sister are safe here? Don’t they all know that? If they don’t, someone ought to clue them in.

When you step out into the courtyard, the balmy night air welcomes you.

There they are, the two of them, and Wendy looks to be lying down in the grass. Sleeping, maybe? It’s late, but not past midnight quite yet. (Mistress) has no strict rules for her staff nor her guests except that she would prefer everyone be inside the manor by midnight. Oddly enough, unlike anyone else you have ever worked for, she’s very concerned with everyone’s safety.

The grass rustles between your feet as you walk. The closer you get, the more Peter’s shoulders seem to shoot up toward his ears; indeed, until they’re buried in his hair. Wendy, on the other hand, only moves by breathing, so she’s definitely asleep.

After a moment of standing, staring at the sky, you lower yourself onto the ground next to Peter. Close enough that you could touch him, far enough that, hopefully, he doesn’t feel crowded. “Lovely night,” you hum, crossing your legs. “It’s nice when there are no clouds at night. You can see the moon so well. Lady (Mistress) is happy someone is finally enjoying the courtyard. She’s never really been one for stargazing or―”

“Oh, what the bloody ‘ell d’you want?!” Peter interrupts you before you can even finish your sentence. His voice is harsh, not loud, likely because he doesn’t want to wake Wendy. “Did y’ come out ‘ere just ta talk me ta death?!”

His bad attitude is still a bit surprising to you, but to have such rude comments coming from such an innocent-looking mouth is no longer the shock it once was. “Well… it wasn’t my intention, no. I’m sorry.” You tilt your head at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

The look he gives you is equal parts incredulous that you’ve said such a thing and sorely tempted by the offer. At last, his face contorts into a scowl, his head jerking back down to the grass he’s yanking out of the ground. “That ain’t what I said. Just stop prattlin’ on about nothin’.”

A moment passes in silence, then you reach over to tear out a couple blades of grass yourself. It’s not that you pretend to understand why he’s doing it, but you want to show him that whatever he’s doing, you’ll join him if he wants, even if you don’t know the reason why.

“… What should I prattle on about, then?” you speak up once he seems to have calmed down a little. “I started with the sky, but… I get the feeling you’re not actually out here to look at the sky. Not as dumb as I look, you know.”

Peter huffs, and a small sigh comes from Wendy as she turns over in her sleep.“So, y’ saw a bloke what didn’t wanna be bothered, ‘n’ y’ came out ‘ere ta bother ‘im, is what y’re sayin’?”

A small shrug is what he gets from you before you say anything else. “Well, no, I’m not trying to bother you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing… if you’re settling in alright. Wendy seems pretty comfortable.”

He snorts, the bitter look from earlier taking over his face again. “We ain’t ‘settlin’ in’. We ain’t gonna be ‘ere longer’n a year, I’ll bet, if we even make it that long.”

“Why do you think that? Lady (Mistress) says she likes you all and that you’re welcome to―”

He lets out a violent grunt as he pulls a clump of grass blades from the ground. They’re tossed down in short order, accompanied by a growl. “(Mistress) don’t know nothin’ ‘bout us! Y’ think she’d want us ‘ere if she knew the truth?! Y’ think anyone’d want us anywhere if they knew the truth?!” He presses his hands into the dirt, digging it under his frayed fingernails, and hisses furiously. “There’s a reason we were left ta fuckin’ die ― because we should be dead! We’re BAD PEOPLE, (Name)!”

Now his voice has gotten louder, causing Wendy to stir and make noises of what sounds to you like distress. You scoot over a bit, reaching around Peter to give a few soft pats to her shoulder. Then you turn your attention back to Peter. “… You’re not,” you say softly. “You in particular, you’re a little rough around the edges, but you’re not… bad.”

You shift around some to get more comfortable. When you cautiously set your hand on top of Peter’s, he flinches, but ultimately lets your fingers stay where they are. “Even if you were bad… you’re not the only bad people to ever exist. You don’t deserve to die.”

“What d’you know?” he grinds out lowly. “Y’ don’t know nothin’ ‘bout us either. Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout me. Y’ don’t get ta make that judgment.”

“Then what judgment am I fit to make?” If you sound frustrated by now, it’s because you are. Why does he seem so insistent about this? Doesn’t he think that if they all should have died, they would have? “Do my feelings really mean that little to you? Does what I think really not matter to you? Because whatever else you may be, good or bad or somewhere in between ― I’m glad to have you here. Perhaps this comes as a surprise to you, Peter, but I happen to like your company, and Wendy’s, and the others’.”

You curl your fingers around his, tightly, securely. “If you should have died, then God wouldn’t have let you live. You’re still alive for a reason.” Despite that you move closer to him, he doesn’t pull away. “You’ve all been given a second chance. Regardless of whether or not you think you deserve it, you have it. And you’re prepared to spend it feeling sorry for yourself, saying you don’t deserve it, instead of doing something with it?”

What surprises you is that he wraps his fingers around yours in response, holding your hand as if you’re his last connection to life. When he looks up at you, his expression is old enough to betray his youthful face. “Y’ don’t know what y’re talkin’ ‘bout, (Name). We shouldn’t ‘ave this chance in the firs’ place. It should’ve gone ta someone else. Y’ don’t know us, er what we done, er anythin’ else. Y’ don’t know… me.”

“But I want to.” Something strange thrums in your chest, your heart fluttering against your ribcage. “I don’t know you because you won’t let me. None of you will let any of us in even the smallest bit. Meanwhile, Lady (Mistress) and I and some of the others… we want to know you. Whatever that means. Even if there are things about you that aren’t pleasant. We like you. I like you. How do you know we wouldn’t accept you if you won’t give us the chance?”

What comes out of his mouth is a mix of a scoff and a laugh. That look in his eyes is so dark and tired you don’t know what to make of it. “Lord, y’know, I never met anyone like y’. Mos’ people don’t want us anywhere near ‘em, even the parts of us that ain’t so bad. But y’re tellin’ me, y’ expect me ta believe ― y’ actually want the bad parts?”

You lean even closer, almost desperate that you’ve come so close to potentially getting him to open up and be vulnerable with you. “Yes,” you breathe. So close you are now, your noses are almost touching. “I want the bad parts. I want the good parts. I want all of you. Is that so crazy?”

“Yeah!” This time it’s a full-blown laugh, though it’s so mirthless, he nearly sounds closer to crying than laughing. “That’s very crazy! Y’ oughta be locked up in some asylum! It ain’t enough yer lady took us in, but y’re tellin’ me y’ actually want every single part of me? Y’ take a look at me lately, ‘uh? I ain’t no gentleman! I ain’t refined, I ain’t sweet… I mean, damn, I look like a little kid!”

The tip of your nose presses to his. “You’re not, though. You’re not a boy,Peter; you’re a man.” You get the feeling very few people acknowledge that about him. He looks like a child, so he must be!

“And I don’t care about refined or sweet… and anyway, who says I want a gentleman?” Your hand stays in his, and your other arm snakes around his shoulders. “What I want is you. I understand if you can’t… or don’t want to… give me all of you. Or any of you. But… no matter anything else… know that there’s someone who will take every part of you. There are people here who want to accept you… if you’d only let us in. You’re not alone.”

Peter lets out a shuddering breath, and you can feel its heat against your lips. His hand clutches yours with such ferocity that his arm is shaking. After a long, long moment, his other hand comes to rest against your waist. How long must it have been since anyone’s treated him as the adult he is ― how long must he have been holding himself back so that he doesn’t make people angry or uncomfortable? “Stop,” he murmurs, and his hand bunches the fabric against your waist in a fist. “Stop bein’ so… good. I can’t… I can’t take it. Jus’ gonna make it ‘urt more… when we get chased outta ‘ere…”

He presses his forehead against yours, his chest heaving as if he’s using his whole strength to stave off the sobbing he’s already been holding back for his whole life. “… If I open up… if y’ do accept me… ‘n’ then I ‘afta leave y’ be’ind…” He’s still holding himself so tensely, wound so tight that he could snap at any moment.

“… I can’t…”

That he gives no resistance when you push forward and kiss him is something you didn’t expect. The way he leans into the touch, bowing to you with a stunning softness you weren’t sure he possessed, speaks volumes about how much he needs someone to embrace his whole self. He seems to even lose himself in your approval for what feels like an eternity.

You draw away, only to be pulled back in against him for another kiss. This one is rougher, hungrier, with a neediness that’s somehow the same as the first kiss and yet wildly different. It’s the kiss of a man who just wants to be wanted, who has tasted that someone desires him and became addicted to that in an instant.

When he pulls you back, you’re only too happy to submit to his wants. You can feel his hand at your waist, his fingers fanning out from that fist so they are splayed against your side.

As soon as you come up for air, you move your arm from his shoulders to let your hand rest on his cheek.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” you whisper as if you can quiet all his fury and anxiety with just those words. “You’re not going anywhere.”

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Peter #reader insert #drama #suggestive #hurt/comfort #I'm just?? he's such a good boy????#I fell for him and I can't get up pls do not help me #queued

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the-small-one-to-rule-them-all · 5 years ago

Text

Wingless

summary: Virgil has gone his whole life without wings and has been just fine, thank you very much. In a world filled with winged people he sticks out like a sore thumb, and he is fine being the only one. But then again maybe he isn’t as alone as he thought.

pairing)s): Platonic moxiety, platonic Royality, platonic anaroyality) background romantic? logicality (mentions of plans to go on a date)

warnings: a vague mention of amputation, mentions of difficulties with accessibility, I think that’s it actually, this is pretty fluffy, but please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: so this has been sitting around on my computer for a while. I tried to expand it but it wasnt working and im tired of editing it over and over tbh. It’s pretty sweet and fluffy. I hope you enjoy! (also obviously the idea of the sides having wings isn’t mine or even remotely original lol, but this is my own universe and my own spin on the idea)

Virgil has gone his whole life without wings and has been just fine, thank you very much. Maybe he is a little defensive and has learned to stand up for himself. But he has had to, and it’s not like knowing how to stand your ground and fight back is a bad thing. Maybe he still thinks he is broken, but it’s not like there is anything he can do about it. He has never met anyone else without wings afterall. If not having wings makes finding an accessible job really difficult, so be it. If not having wings makes people stare and less willing to trust him, oh well, he just stares right back. He’s alone, and that’s fine, he has come to terms with that reality.

Virgil’s whole world changes when he sees someone else without wings on the subway one day.

He awkwardly approaches them as they happen to get off at the same stop as him, “Excuse me?” he says, gently laying a hand on their arm.

The person turns with a start, “Yes? What is it?” they ask, peering over a round set of glasses.

Virgil opens his mouth and tries to say something but nothing comes out. So, he just stares for a second before turning and showing the man that he doesn't have wings either.

The man gives him a grin, “Oh hey, we match!”

Virgil smiles a little, “I didn't think there was anyone else like me.” he mumbles.

The man lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “Well you definitely aren’t alone. Actually, there are more of us than you might think. If you’re not busy right now i'm actually heading to a support group for people without wings. You’re welcome to join me.” “Oh, uh yeah, okay... I'd love to.” Virgil was about to head to his favorite record store, but he supposed it couldn't hurt to go visit, it’s not like he really has anything else to do. Besides, it’s probably better he doesn’t spend the money and he doesn’t think he could say no if he tried.

The man smiles and holds out his hand to Virgil, “I should probably introduce myself, i'm Patton.”

“Nice to meet you Patton, i'm Virgil.” He says, shaking Patton’s hand.

“Well Virgil, i'm glad we met.”

“Me too.” Virgil says, turning to look around, “Now where is this meeting thing you were talking about?”

Patton grabs Virgil’s hand and turns walking out of the subway, “It’s not far from here, only about a few minute walk.”

Virgil stumbles as the unexpected pull drags him forward, but only for a moment. When they get outside he is able to better get his bearings and Patton lets go of his hand as the foot traffic is practically nonexistent.

Patton turns to Virgil, “Oh, You’re probably wondering why I don't have any wings, huh?”

Virgil shrugs, “Well I didn't want to be rude, I get that question a lot, but yeah I am genuinely curious.”

Patton smiles, “I understand, but I offered, so It’s no problem to share. Apparently when I was a super small child I got sick and my wings got infected and had to be amputated to keep me alive. I don't remember having them as that happened when I was about one year old, but anyway. What about you? If you don't mind sharing.”

Virgil nods, “I don't mind. It’s kinda weird though, I was actually born without wings. I've seen tons of doctors, none of them has any idea why. I'm fine, healthy, nothing out of the ordinary, and my birth was perfectly normal and healthy. I just... Don't have wings.”

Patton hums, “I know someone like that, I don't know if they’ll be at the group today but if they are I'll be sure to introduce you. I think you would get along well.”

There is a lull in the conversation and, as the time passes, Virgil is finally starting to process everything that just happened. He is hit with a strange sense of hope? Excitement? Joy? And some other positive emotion Virgil feels but can't quite identify. He is just trying to find a word for it when Paton drags him in the front door of some building he hadn’t noticed. He walks in and sees a room full of people, every single one of them without wings.

Virgil just stops dead in his tracks and stares. The reality of it hits him like a wall. Virgil is reeling. He isn't alone. He isn't some strange defect alone in a world of “normal” people. There are other people like him. That means... maybe, just maybe, there isn't anything wrong with him. He... He feels like he belongs.

He doesn't even notice that he is crying until Patton asks him what’s wrong.

“Absolutely nothing.” Virgil mumbles.

Patton lays a comforting hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “This must be a lot for you. I was a bit overwhelmed my first time too, and I knew that there were other people without wings. Take your time to adjust. Oh, and just so you know, the group is a rather informal space where we can sit around and just talk about things. Feel free to join a conversation whenever you’re ready.”

Virgil gives Patton a small nod and takes a deep breath trying to steady himself as he takes another look around. He wipes his eyes and another man approaches him, “Hey there, I haven't seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time here, you couldn’t’ve had the chance.”

“Well then, welcome! I’m Roman.” The man says with a comically deep bow.

Virgil smirks, “Hi Roman, i'm Virgil.”

“Well Virgil, it's great to meet you! How did you hear about us?”

Virgil blinks, “Well, to be honest, I met Patton getting off the subway not ten minutes ago.”

Roman’s eyes go wide, “Oh dang, well this must be pretty new to you huh?”

“That’s an understatement.” Virgil chuckles wryly.

“Well, I hope you like it here.”

“I do, haven’t done much yet, but it doesn’t seem bad either. I just have a question.”

Roman raises an eyebrow, “Shoot”

Virgil sighs, “This is gonna sound really stupid, but what are those?” he says pointing to some things scattered around the room.

“You mean the chairs?” Roman asks, very obviously doing his best to hide his laughter.

Virgil scowls, “I mean yeah, I get that they’re chairs. I figured they were meant for sitting on, but what is that attached to the seat?”

Roman chuckles, “They’re for our pet dragons to perch on.”

Virgil tilts his head, looking at Roman, confused and exasperated.

Roman’s smile disappears, “Oh, you... you were being serious, weren't you?”

Virgil nods, “Yeah, and i'm still confused.” he says folding his arms.

Roman nods, “Okay, sorry. The backs of the chairs are for leaning against, they are a lot more comfortable that way. We’re just having a social hang out night tonight, nothing super organized or fancy, you’re bound to see someone sit down at some point.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Why not show me how it works? Im mean it can't be-”

He is interrupted as Patton bounces up to them, “Oh Virgil, you met Roman, how nice! He was the person I was wanting to introduce you to!” Patton says, giving Roman a hug.

Roman hugs him back, pulling back to clap Patton on the shoulder, “Nice to see you again, Padre. How did things go the other night with Logan? I just have to know!”

“Nice to see you too, Roman.” He chuckles, “You didn't tell me Logan was such a nerd.”

Roman huffs.

“Oh, calm down, it went well. He really is great. He is so sweet and beautiful and smart. We’re actually going on a date tonight”

Roman smiles, “That’s wonderful! I'm glad you two are getting on so well!”

Virgil smirks, “You seeing anyone, Roman?”

Roman shakes his head, “No actually, I am between princes at the moment,” he admits scratching the back of his head, “I'm more of a matchmaker than an actual match you know.”

Virgil nods, “Ah. Yeah, I get that.”

At that moment Patton grabs Virgil, tugging him away. “Oh Virgil, you should come meet my friend Harriet, they’re right over here. You’ll love them.”

And with that Roman was laughing and waving as Patton dragged him away.

#hobbit writes #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #i was about to tag this as winged sides but like... they dont have wings lol #wingless sides #i guess #mention of amputation #fluff #virgil getting the support he deserves #idk how to tag this im sorry #it's cute #i hope you like it #I almost regret deciding to post this but ive already put in the effort so its happening

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adelesbian · 6 years ago

Text

Reed Richards let out one large puff of smoke staring at it as it disappeared wanting to explain it, but he was too distracted by Victor stroked his hair thoughtlessly. Victor was also high; they were a couple of high fools together smoking some weed that Victor had stashed away. Reed didn’t usually smoke socially mostly because he didn’t do much of anything socially, but here he was in Victor von Doom’s dorm wishing he hadn’t gone.

Victor’s fingers crawled down to his shoulders. It felt like he was playing music on his body as he thoughtlessly ran his hands on Reed. “Are you playing me?” Reed asked taking one of Victor’s hands in his own and staring at it.

“No,” Victor said softly drawing Reed’s hand up to his lips kissing his fingertips.

Reed stared for a moment then kissed Victor. It was sloppy and frantic and rough, there was too much tongue, he missed at first and had to move to actually find Victor’s lips. Reed crawled into Victor’s lap grinding his hips against him. Victor tore off Reed’s shirt and threw it onto the floor.

“Ben is gonna be pissed,” Reed mumbled as Victor sucked on his neck. That would leave a mark.

“Why should he be worried of our doings?” Victor asked as Reed slipped his shirt off of him.

“He hates you, remember?” Reed said as Victor pushed him back onto the couch.

“Take off your pants,” Victor commanded, and Reed obliged fumbling with his zipper and finally kicking them onto the floor.

Victor straddled Reed then took Reed’s chin in his hand and drew him to him. He bent down and kissed him. His teeth clashed against Reed’s at first as he decided how he wanted to take Reed’s kiss. He finally placed his lips on Reed’s more gently than Reed thought he would. Reed reached up and drew him towards him until he was crouching over him.

“Fuck me, please,” Reed whispered in Victor’s ear.

Victor stood up to discard his pants on the floor. “But first,” he said as he slipped himself out of his boxers, “on your knees.”

Reed woke up sore next to Victor with no memory of the events of the night before. Obviously, he knew what happened because it didn’t take a genius to realize that he and Victor fucked, and he was a genius. If his clothing strewn around the room didn’t give it away, Victor’s hand on his ass definitely did.

“I have to go. I have class,” Reed said getting out of Victor’s bed and grabbing his clothes off the floor. Victor mumbled something after him but didn’t make any moves to get out of bed.

He raced to his dorm to shower and change out of his clothes which smelled awful. He bumped into Ben as he rushed inside.

“Ya look terrible,” Ben said catching Reed by the arm. His eyes drifted to the hickeys and bite marks all over Reed’s neck and his eyes widened. “Who did all this?”

“I need to shower and change and get to class,” Reed said.

Ben let him go, and Reed slipped inside their dorm to grab some clothes and his shower caddy then rushed to the showers. While he showered he inspected the marks on his body from his night with Victor. They were many, but that was what was to be expected from someone like Victor. He looked up into the hot water and closed his eyes. What was he doing? God, what was he going to do?

Apparently, what he was going to do was ignore the issue. He avoided Victor when he could which did not please Doom. This went on for weeks. Reed found every way to avoid Victor, but it could only last so long. Victor was pissed.

Reed was going to class when Victor cornered him. “Would you please get out of my way,” Reed said cooly which only made Victor seeth more.

“So, you have chosen to ignore what happened between us,” Victor said crossing his arms.

“And what happened between us?” Reed asked.

“Do not play ignorant with me. You are not a fool,” Victor said.

“We had sex. Is that what you want me to say? What is there to talk about?” Reed hissed.

“I will not be used,” Victor said. His eyes narrowing.

“I was high. I wasn’t in the position to use anyone,” Reed said.

“Then why did we not speak afterward, and why did you choose to avoid me?” Victor asked.

Reed winced knowing that what he did was not right. “Because I was scared,” Reed admitted and his voice shook. “I’ve never had sex with a man before.”

“Is that all?” Victor asked dropping his arms to his side. His face grew as soft as it could for a moment.

Reed looked away. “Look, I have a lot of things going on. I don’t need another distraction,” he said lying.

Victor took a step towards him, and Reed flatted on the wall. “I am a distraction to you?” he asked running his finger along Reed’s chin. Reed’s eyes widened.

“Ben has a class for the next couple hours,” Reed blurted out.

Victor smirked. “Willing to skip class for a taste of me, I see,” he said leaning down and catching Reed’s mouth with his. Reed strained to hold onto Victor’s lips as he pulled away.

Reed ripped off his sheets and tossed them into his hamper. He looked around his room at everything he just cleaned partly proud of himself for cleaning up their mess in so little time and partly ashamed of what he and Victor did. Ben walked in and took a moment to admire how even his side of the room was neat.

“What, uh, brought this on?” Ben asked.

Reed shrugged not trusting himself to lie to Ben about something like this. Ben dropped his bags and sat down on the couch getting comfortable. Reed winced thinking about how he sucked Victor off right where Ben was sitting. He couldn’t hide this from Ben forever; he had to tell him.

Unfortunately, Ben found out in the worst way possible. Reed put a sock on the doorknob like they said they would if they ever brought someone back to the dorm, but back then Reed never imagined needing to use it. Ben must have gotten accustomed to not having to worry about Reed having sex because he came in despite the warning.

At first Ben didn’t know what was wrong. “Some joker put a sock on tha door…” he said blissfully unaware of what was going on, but that blissful ignorance didn’t last long enough. Reed and Victor were fucking on the desk which was partially out of the way of the door so he didn’t see them until he turned to look towards Reed exclamations of surprise.

“What tha fuck!?” Ben shouted.

“Get out you clodding oaf,” Victor shouted.

Ben got out of the room as quickly as he could wishing he could rip his eyes out. His only comfort was that both Reed and Victor were partially clothed.

“So,” Reed said as Ben finally came back to their dorm. He stood as far as he could from Reed glaring at him. “I'm sorry you saw that.”

“Cut tha shit, Reed. Where?” Ben said looking around the dorm.

“Where?”

“Where all have you two fucked?”

Reed turned red as he thought of all the places he and Victor fucked in the dorm room alone. “Are you sure you want to know?” Reed asked.

“Just tell me, Reed,” Ben insisted.

“The, uh, couch, my bed, my desk,” Ben let out a grumble when he said the desk. Obviously, they fucked on the desk he was there, “I think, that’s all…” It wasn’t, but he wanted to spare him some of the discomforts of knowing all the places that he and Victor fucked.

“Outta all people,” Ben asked, “why him?”

Reed rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t planned,” he said.

“He’s such a jerk,” Ben said.

“He’s not bad high, I guess,” Reed said under his breath. Ben’s head jerked around to look at him.

“You fucked while high?” Ben exclaimed.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Reed said.

“Are you datin’?” Ben asked his disapproval was all over his face.

“No,” Reed said, “I believe the term is friends-with-benefits.”

“That’s disgustin’,” Ben said shaking his head.

Reed tucked a strand of Sue’s hair behind her ear smiling. “You’re beautiful,” he said bending down to kiss her. It was barely a peck, but it was enough to make Reed feel like he was on top of the world.

Reed went back to his apartment thinking about how he was the luckiest man alive. His phone was ringing off the hook so he answered it. It was Ben on the other line.

“Your pal Victor did somethin’ really stupid. Ya better come fast.”

Victor’s whole face was bandaged up, and he laid out in the hospital bed weak from the accident. Reed sat in the chair next to him so that he would have someone to wake up to when he finally regained consciousness.

“Reed?” Victor’s voice was soft and strained.

Reed stood up placing his book to the side and leaning over Victor’s bedside. “Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“I feel as if I were hit by a freight train,” Victor said reaching his hands up only to find that he was connected to all kinds of drips and cords.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Reed said touching his hand gently.

“My face, it sears,” Victor said. “I’ve never known such pain.”

“Do you want me to call a nurse?” Reed asked.

“No, I do not wish for anyone to see me like this,” Victor said.

“How did this happen?” Reed asked pulling a chair up.

“I don’t wish to speak of it,” Victor said looking away from Reed.

Reed and Victor sat in silence for a while. Reed stood up grabbing his book and the rest of his things. “I have to go. I have class,” he said. Victor mumbled something after him seemingly dozing off.

Ben met Reed outside of the hospital. “Did ya tell him that he was expelled?” he asked.

Reed shook his head. “I didn’t have the heart. I’ve never seen him that vulnerable before,” he said.

“Hey, you’re with Suzie now,” Ben said.

“I don’t have feelings for him. I just feel terrible about what happened,” Reed said.

When Victor’s bandages were taken off, and he looked into the mirror and his heart sunk. A scar ran across his face ruining his once attractive face making him disfigured and in his eyes ugly. He beat his fist into the mirror, and it shattered under his strength. Pieces of glass ripped at his skin and blood ran down his hand. He sunk down to the floor holding his hand and let out a strangled sob.

No one came to see him for days and he stewed in his misery. Reed finally visited knowing that he was the closest thing Victor had to a friend. He found him sunk on the floor, his hand unbandaged, and him unwashed.

“Leave,” Doom said his voice stronger than he looked.

“Let me look at your hand,” Reed said kneeling down next to him and touching the blooding hand.

Doom snatched it away. “I said leave.”

“Victor, it could get infected then you could lose your hand. You have enough to worry about already,” Reed said taking his hand and inspecting it.

Victor looked up at Reed, and Reed finally saw the scar that disfigured one side of his face. He made no comment as he drew Victor up and to the sink to clean the cut. He ran hot water over the cut washing off the blood so that he could get a better look of the cut underneath. Victor winced. Reed sat him on the toilet and grabbed some alcohol from under the sink which he put on a cotton ball and dabbed gently on the cut. Victor cussed under his breath in what Reed assumed was Latverian. Reed found some bandages and wrapped Victor’s hand tightly.

“Now, you need to bathe yourself,” Reed said. “Can you do that on your own?”

“Yes,” Victor said his voice softer than when he demanded that Reed leave. Reed started the bath for him then made a move to leave before he saw how Victor struggled with his clothing. Reed helped him take off his shirt and pants but left him in his boxers.

Reed left the bathroom before Victor sunk into the bath. Victor emerged half an hour later in a towel. His hair was still dripping wet, but he looked better than he had been curled on the ground in anguish. Victor sat next to Reed and leaned his head on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“It was nothing,” Reed said tucking his arm around Victor’s waist in an awkward half-hug.

Victor sat up and leaned in to kiss Reed. Reed winced and moved away. Doom reached for his face and moved away from Reed his eyes wide.

“Even you recoil from me because of my hideous scar,” Doom said.

“It’s not that Victor. I’m seeing someone,” Reed said softly.

“So you’ve moved on so quickly just when I needed you the most,” Doom hissed.

“Moved on? From what?” Reed asked confused.

Doom’s face grew hard, and he pointed to the door. “Out!”

“Victor, I-”

“OUT!”

Seeing Reed was torture. Victor blamed him for everything, the accident, getting expelled… breaking his heart. If he weren’t so obsessed… in love with… Reed, none of this would have happened. He would have done the calculations right, he would have been successful, he would have freed his mother… So bitterly he held onto these feelings following a path that was forged with hate. It was years after that he saw Reed again and despite the time his anger had not faded, but rather it grew and grew until it was something monstrous. Any love that he knew for Reed was long gone and replaced with abhorrence. Reed was his most hated rival but once his only friend.

#Reed Richards #victor von doom #doctor doom #mr fantastic #victor von doom x reed richards #f4 #ff #fic #this is so cursed and i hate myself for writing it lmao #this was supposed to be crack but it became angst oops #sfw

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thelifetimechannel · 6 years ago

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KARKAT: SO IN YOUR PERSONAL OPINION, WHICH OF THE TWO UMBRELLAS OF HUMAN PROSPITEERS DO YOU FALL UNDER? KARKAT: ADORABLY OBLIVIOUS BUCKTOOTHED DUNDERFUCKS OR TERRIFYINGLY DRIVEN STEPFORD RESIDENTS THAT IDIOTS LIKE ME HAVE THE POOR FUCKING JUDGEMENT TO PUSH TOO FAR INTO STABBING TERRITORY? KARKAT: OBVIOUSLY ATTRACTIVE GENETICS LIKE YOURS DON'T COME WITHOUT A CRIPPLING CHARACTER FLAW OR SIX, BUT ONE RECURRENT SET OF PERSONAL DEFECTS HAS A TENDENCY TO KILL ME SO I WANT A HEADS UP. I LIKE MY THORAX UNPERFORATED. JAKE: Uh...?! JAKE: ...Nice to meet you too my good sir!! JAKE: Oh friggin cripes where are my manners!! I dont believe weve been formally introduced. Names jake english im the page of hope and jades ecto-grandpa-son! But you probably already knew all of that. KARKAT: YUP, SUSPICIONS CON-FUCKING-FIRMED. KARKAT: NOW I SEE WHERE JOHN GETS BOTH HIS AIR-HEADED DISPOSITION AND HIS DISTRACTINGLY CHISELED JAWLINE FROM. JAKE: Hahaha i see our species has a similar prediliction towards japery!! JAKE: Maybe i am actually not all that impressive at first blush but i can really whip it out when the going gets rough. KARKAT: YES. YES YOU CAN. KARKAT: OKAY, SETTING THAT LINE OF THOUGHT ASIDE FOREVER NOW. WHERE WERE WE? JAKE: Introductions? KARKAT: AH YES. MY LUSUS DIDN'T RAISE ME IN A FUCKING CAVE, AFTER ALL. I JUST HATCHED IN ONE. KARKAT: ATTENTION PUNY HUMAN, THIS IS YOUR GOD SPEAKING, ET CETERA ET CETERA, BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH, HI, I'M KARKAT, I CREATED YOUR UNIVERSE. KARKAT: YOU CAN BE WELCOME FOR THAT AND I CAN BE SORRY ABOUT IT. JAKE: Well whats there to be sorry about! From my vantage point it was a perfectly fine universe. JAKE: Id definitely much rather it have existed than not. KARKAT: IT'S A LONG STORY AND NOW WOULD BE A FUCKING AWKWARD PLACE TO RECOUNT IT, SO I'LL SUMMARIZE: KARKAT: IT COULD'VE BEEN BETTER. AND ALSO HAD LESS CANCER. JAKE: Such is true of many things in life. JAKE: Maybe it was a bit of a fixer upper but it was still home! And boy howdy am i gonna miss it... KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: TRUST ME, WE ALL KNOW THE FEELING. JAKE: Oh yeah... you guys are an awfully long way from home arent you? Thats gotta fucking suck especially now that weve got a human majority. JAKE: What was it like if you dont mind my asking? Not to bring up sore subjects but all ive heard of trolls hasnt included much about their homeworld and ive always dreamed of exploring alien planets. KARKAT: HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED WHAT IT'D BE LIKE TO FLUSHED DOWN A LOADGAPER AND SURVIVE IN A CITY'S WASTE CLOACAS LIKE IN "THE FAKE CGI CLAYMATION ONE ABOUT THE SQUEAKBEAST LUSUS WHO GETS FLUSHED DOWN THE LOADGAPER IN A HILARIOUS CONFRONTATION WITH A HIVE INVADER AND HAS TO GET HOME TO THEIR WARD BEFORE THEY GET CULLED, ONLY TO END UP IN A WHIMISICAL LUSUS-SIZED UNDERGROUND CIVILIZATION CONSTRUCTED OF THE DETRITUS OF THE WORLD ABOVE AND GET PICKED UP BY A SPUNKY CLOACA-DWELLING SMUGGLER WORKING WITH COMICAL TROLL-EUROPEAN NATIONAL STEREOTYPES IN WHAT SHE IS UNAWARE IS A PLOT TO EXTERMINATE ALL SQUEAKBEASTS, RESULTING IN A GRAND ADVENTURE ON THE WAVES OF PISS AND AT LEAST ONE INTERLUDE BY SINGING VERMIN"? JAKE: No i cant say i have. KARKAT: WELL, IT'S SOMETHING LIKE THAT. KARKAT: OTHER THAN THAT, NOT SURE WHAT TO SAY. IT WAS A HUNK OF ROCK COVERED IN DANGEROUS, DISGUSTING ANIMALS, ORBITING A DYING STAR THAT WOULD'VE GONE SUPERNOVA IN A FEW MILLION YEARS AND MERCIFULLY ENDED THE WHOLE SHEBANG. KARKAT: BUT IT DIDN'T KILL ME, AND I GUESS I CAN BE GRATEFUL FOR THAT. JAKE: Likewise! I dont know what you know about jades island but my version of it at least was covered in lusii much like the ones i imagine youre familiar with! JAKE: Although there were no waste cloacas or at least none i ever cared to venture close enough to inspect. JAKE: Had a nice frog temple though. KARKAT: OH GREAT. KARKAT: WE CAN HAVE A WHOLE NEW BUMBER CROP OF TROLLS RAISED BY WILD FREAKS OF NATURE, JUST LIKE THEIR ANCESTORS WOULD'VE WANTED. JAKE: Well hey maybe not? New home new traditions. JAKE: I think the lusii wouldve all died when the earth got flooded anywho. KARKAT: MAYBE. KARKAT: BUT WHO THE HELL IS GONNA RAISE THE LITTLE OVIPOSITOR-NUGGETS IF NOT LUSII? ALL THE MOTHER GRUB DOES IS EAT, ABSORB GENETIC SLURRY, AND SHIT OUT EGGS. KARKAT: US? KARKAT: THE ONES AMONG US WHO ARE ACTUALLY FUCKING COMPETENT AT KEEPING OTHER PEOPLE ALIVE ARE FAR TOO FEW IN NUMBER, THEY'D BE OVERWHELMED LONG BEFORE THEY HAD TO SUFFER THROUGH THE MUSKY SHITHIVE OF AN ENTIRE SPECIES ENTERING TROLL PUBERTY AT ONCE. JAKE: Maybe? JAKE: Weve got a bunch of time travellers dont we? So whats the harm in sleeping on that decision? KARKAT: I KNOW. AND I GUESS THAT'S THE PLAN FOR NOW. KARKAT: BUT WE CAN'T PUT IT OFF FOREVER. JAKE: Someone very wise once told me that the decision to raise a new societys worth of children with your best friends is not one made lightly. JAKE: I mean im paraphrasing for the situation obviously but there you go. JAKE: So give it a few years or maybe a decade and see where youre at! Who knows by that time i might even join you! If only to have an excuse to go trekking across an alien planet. KARKAT: OH NO YOU DON'T. ON MY SPECIES-UNFUCKENING CATAWAMPUS CAMP JAMBOREE YOU EITHER PULL YOUR WEIGHT OR YOU GO BACK TO THE BROODING CAVERNS WITH THE OTHER INFANTS WHO NEED THEIR DIAPERS CHANGED. KARKAT: I RUN A TIGHT SHIP, IS WHAT I'M SAYING. JAKE: Haha ok then! Aye aye captain!

#tlcstuck #jake english #karkat vantas #walkaround 4

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oneshotsalligot · 7 years ago

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The Call

Hey everyone, this is my first ever requested prompt. I didn’t include Erin because, while I lover her, she isn’t going to be in the show anymore so I thought it best to leave her out. I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “Intelligence gets called for a hostage situation in the ED, but Will gets badly injured and Jay is worried AF while he doesn't want to admit it :p Some good old fashioned angst would be cool. Make someone die if you feel up to it. Enjoy! :)” - @monicaaaaatje

Word Count: 2063

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Chicago PD/Med characters but I definitely enjoying writing for them ;)

There was never a normal day in the intelligence unit, unlike a typical 9-5 office job Jay couldn't count on anything being 'normal.' That being said, he never expected to get The Call. You know, The Call. In movies or tv shows it the one that sets everything in motion by tearing someone's world apart.

The phone rang and Voight picked it up from his office and he was on his feet and grabbing his jacket before the unit knew anything.

"Let's go, gear up we have a hostage situation." He said.

"Where?" Atwater asked while everyone followed suit and put jackets on their backs and guns on their hips.

He hesitated and looked at Jay before responding. "Chicago med." he waited for Jay to process.

After years in the service and on the force it took a lot to shake Jay. He'd seen some truly gut wrenching things, but imagining his brother and friends at the hospital being trapped and possibly hurt, or worse, made his stomach turn. But in true Halstead fashion he kept his composure on the outside.

"What do we know?" He asked. All eyes were on him.

"Nothing yet. Just that there's someone with a gun in the ED." Voight explained. "Let's go," he added noticing everyone waiting for one of them to make a move.

Upon arrival all anyone could see in any direction was flashing lights. Police cars, police vans, ambulances, you name it.

Jay was coming out of his skin. He'd kept fairly calm but now, being here, he was starting to fall apart.

"Who's in charge?" Voight found the main command tent they had set up.

"I am, Sergeant." Jay tuned out at his name and rank knowing Voight would be in control within a few minutes.

"What's going on? Any contact yet?" He pulled at his vest in front of him, a habit he'd picked up.

"Two phone calls one from us to them, one from them to us. We know there are 6 patients, 3 doctors and 4 nurses inside, all the people from the waiting room were able to get out. One doctor has been shot, we are unaware who or how bad." Jay's head went fuzzy for a minute. Like someone turned his brain to 11 and he couldn't handle it. White noise sloshed around his head from ear to ear and back again before Olinski's voice pulled him back.

"Halstead, Jay!" He yelled.

"I have to go in," he started pushing by everyone.

"Jay! Absolutely not," Voight grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"That's my brother in there! You want me to sit and do nothing?!" He yelled finally snapping. Voight wasn't upset, he'd expected it, hell he'd bet it would have happened sooner.

"No, I expect you to sit your ass down while we figure out what the hell's going on." He guided him back to the tent. He didn't sit. He paced. He waited for 15 excruciating minutes while everyone around him ran in circles and did next to nothing.

In those 15 minutes they had learned the man inside waving a gun around called himself Trent. Trent Williamson. After doing some digging the unit found out his wife died in the hospital 5 months ago. She had a brain tumor and refused chemo because it was already in its later stages.

"Ruzek you're going in," Voight said.

"Sarg, just le-"

"No Halstead. Take a back seat on this one." Hank interrupted the young detective.

Jay had no intention of listening. Adam took off his holster and set his gun next to it, he then unstrapped his ankle gun placed it in a line next to his 9mm.

"You ready?" Voight asked him. He nodded and they all watched as he walked past the police line with his hands in the air. Jay inched his way closer and closer to the barricades and was about to sprint in front of them when a hand caught the back of his vest.

"Don't do it. You're just going to get yourself or your someone else killed." Alvin said quietly. Jay took a deep breath and let Alvin drag him back.

"Ruzek has a microphone in his pocket, we're gonna be able to hear everything okay, I want snipers ready! Nobody takes a shot unless I give the go ahead, go it?" Voight was handing out orders left and right but Jay was just focused on hearing his brother's voice come through the speaker.

"Come on. Come on Will. Talk to me. Please." He wasn't sure if he was saying it out loud or not but he didn't care.

"Hello Mr. Williamson, can I call you Trent?" There was no shakiness in Adam's voice, he was rock solid.

"Yeah- whatever!" There was a man who was not rock solid. He sounded as unstable as they come. "Did they tell you what I want?" He hissed.

"They did, they said you wanted to see your wife."

"Her name is Anna!"

"Right, Anna, they said you wanted to see Anna. While they work on that do you think I could send these people back outside? You have me in here now, you don't need them."

"No! No! They stay! I'm not an idiot!"

"Of course not, but if you know how these things work you know I have to send somebody out there. They need some good faith from you?"

He waited to answer. They heard shuffling.

"She can leave."

"Okay, Natalie can you walk?" Adam asked.

"No," they heard a muffled voice coming from her.

"Trent, could one of them push her out on a gurney? You still have plenty of hostages here."

"Just go! Quickly!" He ushered. Then nothing. The mic quit responding and the unit was left standing in a circle wondering what the hell just happened.

"COMING OUT!" Somebody yelled. Across the barricades they saw a patient pushing Natalie out in a wheelchair. Blood was pouring out of Natalie's thigh and her entire pant leg looked sopping wet with the deep red substance.

Once they were across the line everyone swarmed the two of them. Natalie was out in an ambulance and shipped off before Jay could ask her anything but the man, the one that pushed her out was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Jay pushed through and interrupted what ever question he was answering.

"Tall redhead, doctor, you see him in there? Is he okay?"

"Uh, yeah," the guy sounded terrified. "He was trying to help the lady doctor. The one who got shot. He kept telling the guy to keep him and let everyone else go." He said shakily.

"God dammit," Jay mumbled. "But he was alright?"

"Yeah but I was real afraid he was gonna go hero. He was itching to tackle the guy."

"No no no," Jay had heard all he needed to.

"Hank please, you have to let me go in there. He's gonna get himself killed." He begged.

"Adam is in there, talking him down. You know how delicate this is. You need to back off before I have you removed." Voight warned. Not 10 seconds later a shot could be heard from in the hospital.

"NOBODY MOVE YET!" Voight screamed from the front of the barricades. They waited. They waited. They waited some more. Jay thought he was going to pass out. He kept picturing his brother bleeding out and screaming for help.

Finally the hospital doors flung open and people ran out. Jay pushed past the front lines and ran towards the door, the line of people stopped and his brother was yet to be seen.

He ran inside the hospital and saw Adam cuffing who he assumed to be Trent and Will sitting, propped up against a wall next to them holding his shoulder.

Officers started filling in around them but Jay made a B line to his little brother and squatted in front of him. Will looked up at him and seemed fairly unfazed by the bullet hole in his arm. He was no doubt in shock.

"What happened? Are you okay? What the fuck!?" The questions flew out of Jay's mouth.

"I got shot," Will winced.

"How?!" Jay wasn't sure how to process.

"Just relax. It's just a scratch, I'll be fine." Will waved him off and tried to stand up. It resulted in him going pale and then sliding back down the wall with Jay guiding him so that he didn't just crash.

"Can I get some fucking help over here!" Jay turned and screamed.

Immediately Will was lifted up and set on a gurney and Dawson and Brett wheeled him out.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jay asked trailing right behind them.

"Looks like it. He's just gonna be really sore. Plus he's lost a good amount of blood so he'll be out in a few minutes but he's gonna be fine Jay." Gabby answered. Jay let out the breath he'd been holding in for what seemed like years but had only been hours.

"How the hell did you get shot?" Jay asked as they set up the IV.

"Tackled 'im." Will was quiet as he said it. Partly because he was moments away from passing out and partly because he knew how his brother was going to react.

"You what?" Jay raised an eyebrow.

"Jay, I'm putting an oxygen mask on him. He's not gonna be able to talk." Gabby explained as Sylvie started driving to the next closest hospital as Med was currently a crime scene.

"You better hope that that was you're delusional self getting shit mixed up because if I find out you tackled a crazy guy with a gun I'm going to fucking kill you Will." Jay threatened. Will responded by passing out.

At the hospital Jay waiting in Will's room, bedside, for him to wake up. His surgery was short, they just needed to get the bullet out and stitch him up. The surgeon had assured him Will would be back to his smart ass self soon.

"He saved my life ya know?" Jay looked up, a little startled until he recognized Adam. "I had the guy talked into letting everybody out. But something happened, I'm still not sure what, but he snapped. Lost it and started screaming about how we'd all meet his wife soon. He pointed his gun at me and Will came out of nowhere and knocked him over. Before I could even respond the gun went off." Adam said.

"I'm glad you're both alive." Jay smiled lightly.

"Tell him I said thanks when he wakes up." Adam took the hint to give him some space and left. There were more visitors in the next few hours but Jay was the only one there when Will woke up.

"Hey," Jay said from his chair.

"Ugh," Will groaned.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Like shit, how do I look?" He grinned.

"Even worse." Jay smiled back. "Come on, give me a hug." Jay stood up and Will pushed himself forward a little bit and allowed Jay to wrap his arms around him. He was careful not to touch his left arm or shoulder, they were covered in the cloth from a sling.

"How's Nat?" Will asked worried.

"She fine, just got out of surgery. She's gonna be okay." He said. Will nodded letting out a deep breath.

"Adam says thanks." Jay said once he was back in his chair. He had his eyebrow quirked up to let his brother know he was pissed.

"What was I supposed to do Jay? Let the guy shoot Adam then all of us?" He sighed.

"No. Just- I don't know." He huffed. After a few moments of silence he broke. "I'm proud of you. You did what I would do. But if you ever do it again I'll kick your ass." Jay smiled lightly.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Will laughed, stopping to groan at his shoulder.

"I'll go get your doc," Jay left the room and did what he said, he found Will's doctor and told him Will was awake but he made a stop on his way back. He found himself in the men's bathroom, crying. He hadn't cried in, in he didn't know how long. He just couldn't stop thinking about how the call could have gone so differently.

#chicago med #Chicago PD #jay halstead #will halstead #my writing #prompt #@monicaaaaatje

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yurimura · 8 years ago

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No Better (Cisco x Reader)

Request: yo heyyyyy hi there. (oh my god what is my problem ok sorry) could i request a cisco x reader based on the song 2 evils by Bastille? and could you make up meta powers for the reader? ;) (cause i'm not creative LOL) TYSM >> also i'm so sorry if you are thinking what am i on. i am on my bed. OKAY IM SORRY IM DONE NOW

A/N: Wow I haven’t written in a while. I started this a while ago but I was struggling with it. I’m not 100% happy with this, but then again songfics aren’t really my specialty. That being said, I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, I graduated from high school recently, so I should have more free time now? I have a few ideas and new characters I’m in love with. Sorry @ the anon who requested this, it’s really late ^^;

Word Count: 1,682 words

I’m the lesser of two evils Or am I, am I tricking myself nice?

He hurt you. He hurt you. Killed you. If it weren’t for the particle accelerator exploding, you would be dead in a basement, another body that fell at his hands. It didn’t matter that you cheated death, that you crawled out of that basement alive. What he did to you, it hurt you like no one had hurt you before.

They say that in the face of death, your fight or flight response triggers. Well, your body chose flight, and his chose fight. Not that he was in any danger to begin with, but the particle accelerator was a cruel mistress.

It saved you, but it also strengthened him.

They called you the Grim Reaper. Actually that was what Cisco called you, due to the fact that your body would turn into smoke and in the beginning you hurt a lot of people. Despite that, he helped you when you accidentally dropped outside his window. He knew who you were, but he still helped you see that you were more than just your hurt, and you could still be good.

It took a lot of convincing at STAR Labs to take you in, but Cisco vouched for you like no one ever had before.

“Cisco, we can’t just overlook what she’s done-“

“Cait, she’s hurt, confused. Rage makes us do a lot of things,” Cisco pleaded with the team. You stayed quiet, not looking at any of them in the eye. You couldn’t bear to face what you’ve done, you couldn’t look these people in the eye.

“Cisco, maybe I deserve to be locked up,” you muttered, “I did hurt a lot of people.”

“No, _____, people do dumb stuff when they’re hurt, you don’t deserve to get locked in a cell when you were just scared and confused. We can help you, we can help you catch the guy that really deserves to be locked up,” Cisco took your hands in his and gave you hope. No one’s hands had ever felt kinder than his in that moment. He had faith in you when no one else did, and that made your heart want to burst.

If only you could live up to his expectations.

——

You found him.

It had been months since Team Flash took you in, since they had made the calculated decision to trust you. They helped you control your powers, and they helped you see what it was like to be nice again. In those months Cisco had not left your side, and it was safe to say that the relationship the two of you had was going in a direction that was more than “just friends”.

Too bad he had to show his ugly head again. You would have liked to see how you and Cisco would mesh.

“Well, well, well, looks like the little bitch is still alive,” he sneered, finally showing himself after weeks of hiding.

You tried opening your mouth to respond with a snappy retort, but when you did you found that your mouth was dry. Your hands pulled down your hood and you saw it, you were shaking. After all this time, he still had this effect on you.

“What’s the matter, little girl?” He laughed and you flinched, “still afraid are you? My, and I saw the chaos you wrecked after I left you in that basement. You’ve been domesticated, no? Made into a hero by “Team Flash”,” the way he mockingly threw around the name of the people that took you in made your blood boil, “little girl, you’re just as bad as me.”

Oh I'm the lesser of two evils So keep looking Just keep looking into my eyes And as the lesser of two evils it pays to, pays to be the nice guy sometimes

“Don’t say that,” you spat, “I am nothing, nothing, like you.”

“Oh we’re more alike than you think, _____,” his grin sent a shiver up your spine, “I’m sure you’ll finally realize that once I rinse your hands of the burden that is Team Flash.”

That was it, you were ready to lunge at him, you almost did until a voice, his voice, stopped you dead in your tracks.

“_____, don’t,” it was Cisco. Of course it was Cisco, he followed you here in his Vibe suit, “you’re better than this.”

It was like he knew. Like somehow, even without touching you, Cisco could feel your determination seeping out of your body. Last time it was flight, this time it’s fight. And you weren’t allowing him to walk out of it alive.

“Cisco, you don’t understand,” you started, “I have to. It’s never going to stop hurting until I kill him.”

“Oh that’s sweet, little girl,” the man in front of you interjected, “but you couldn’t even land a finger on me.”

“Dude, no offense, shut up. _____, you don’t have to face him, Barry can-“ it was nice to see that Cisco would still be Cisco in even the tensest of moments, but you didn’t want to hear his reasoning.

“I’m sorry, Cisco. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the great hero you wanted me to be, but this is all I was after. He was all I was after, and he’s here, in front of me, and you’re telling me to just walk away?” You shook your head, “I can’t do that.”

There are two ways to skin tonight Let’s see whose road gets there faster This is a game, no wrongs, no right Only a winner and a loser You and I, oh you and I We’re not that different, you and I

You turned your attention back to the man who hurt you, you were determined to end things here and now. But before you could even make the first move, a powerful blast hit you from behind, and you saw a flash of red take the man away.

Before you slipped into unconsciousness you could hear Cisco apologizing.

“I’m sorry, _____.”

——

When you woke up, you were locked up in the Pipeline. It hurt, being on the other side of the door. Yes, Cisco had gotten you pretty good and you were definitely still sore from the blast, but what hurt more was staring up at the faces of the people you had once called a team.

You had lost that right the moment you stepped into that alley.

“_____-” Caitlin started, but you cut her off immediately.

“Don’t, Cait, I-I don’t deserve your sympathy,” you shook your head an leaned back against the wall, “so, why am I not locked up in meta-human prison? I should be in there, right? I hurt a lot of people, didn’t I?” You rushed the doors of the cell, you knew your metahuman powers couldn’t break through the glass—you’ve seen others try— but you still wanted to vent your frustration, “I’m no better than him. In fact, I’m worse,” you say as you sunk back to the floor.

“_____, don’t say that!” A voice you had grown to love suddenly snapped.

“Cisco…” you muttered, not daring to look him in the eye, “just admit it. I can’t be the superhero you want me to be. You should have locked me up sooner.”

“No, _____, I refuse to believe that. I’ve talked with you, I’ve watched you work, you and that guy are like night and day,” Cisco was now pressed up against the door, you could feel him begging you to look at him, it didn’t take vibe powers to know that, “you-you’re just hurt, he hurt you and you need time to heal—“

“Cisco!” You shouted suddenly, “I’m not like Barry, okay? I’m never gonna be the save the day, make sure everyone lives type of gal… I fully intended to kill him, and I would have too. I’m evil, I’m disgraceful… I’m irreparable.”

You lowered your head in defeat, half expecting the team to give up on you. You had given up on yourself. You wanted to be the perfect, lawful hero Cisco thought you could be. The hero the team thought you could be. Barry had a no-kill rule, Barry could turn a known criminal soft, Barry was the Flash, hero of Central City. You wanted to be like that, you were even humoring a hero name before that guy showed his ugly face again. Now, instead of a hero, you were in a cell, dropped to the floor in defeat.

The sound of the cell doors opening shook you out of your little self-pity party and you looked up to see Cisco standing over you. Before you could say anything, he was looking you straight in the eye and had your hands tightly gripped in his.

“Then I’ll help you,” he said with complete confidence, “we can do a little superhero rehab, a little support until my-our! Our _____ is feeling better, right Barry?” The speedster gave a genuine nod, but you didn’t notice because you were too hung up on Cisco’s little slip up. My, he said. It made your heart flutter, if only for a moment.

“Cisco, I’m not worth it,” you tried to pull your hands away, but he didn’t let go, “just let me atone for my sins.”

“_____,” ah how his voice just pulled you in, “you don’t have to be perfect to be a part of Team Flash.”

Then he did something that just took you off guard, he kissed you on the forehead. A simple gesture, one that held no romantic expectations, only the message ‘I’m here’.

“Let me help you, please.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you tried to speak. You were all choked up, and you struggled to give him your response. But when you looked at him, the words seemed to flow out of your mouth so effortlessly.

Oh I'm the lesser of two evils So keep looking Just keep looking into my eyes And as the lesser of two evils it pays to, pays to be the nice guy sometimes

“For you, anything.”

#cisco ramon x reader #cisco ramon imagines #cisco x reader #the flash imagines

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