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simp-ly-writes · 3 months

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Safehouse

Pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes south, the team is looking for a safehouse to keep their heads down but little do they know of the small family you keep hidden away from the world.

Warnings: some light swearing and depictions of blood.

A/N: Inspired by the Avengers: Age of Ultron - Safehouse Scene.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The night mission had gone terribly. You had been deployed for over six months now and for all that stress to amount for nothing had a new rage encompassing your mind- distracting you from the bullet wound you sustained while trying to escape from a collapsing building. The intelligence your team was meant to collect falling down with it.

Shaking your head at the back of the SUV, you grasped your thigh tight- doing your best to hold the bleeding. Gaz was doing is best to help aid your wound as Johnny fished around in the trunk- throwing medical supplies over the seats as he let out a string of curse words and unknown English.

"Fucking-hell Johnny- you curse more than I do- and I am the one bleeding!" You croak out, sweat dripping down your forehead as Kyle fishes out the bullet. John is doing his best to keep the car ride smooth as Simon tries to radio Laswell to only receive silence in return.

Communications were down, Simon is now telling Price off for driving shit as you were about to lose your shit if Kyle did not get this bullet out of you sooner and Soap stopped sounding like a chicken with its head chopped off while flinging himself around in the trunk.

"Hows it going back there Gaz?" Price asks while gripping the steering wheel- your sharp breath intakes of pain are sending guilt flooding down his spine. He should have accounted for the possibility of more hostiles being at the location.

"Oh you know Captain, its going swell- blood and all sorts," Kyle retorts, his hands shaking as he finally gets ahold of the bullet and starts to carefully remove it from your body. The car runs over a hole in the road causing his hand to waver significantly as he apologizes to your groan of pain. The metal tools digging into your skin again.

"Any pain receivers back there Soap- booze... anything?" You ask as your vision turns slightly blurry, your head swimming side to side as the car turns from the ever-growing pressure in your thigh.

"Negative. Can't find anything back here- Simon, you have a torch up there in the glovebox?" Johnny calls out before swearing once more as a piece of gear slams on to his hand. Shaking out the pain a flashlight hits him square in the head- "thanks-mate, much appreciated."

"No problem," Simon replies calmly before testing the radio once more, looking in the rear view mirror in pity as he witnesses your pain without being able to do anything about it.

Kyle fishes the bullet out of your thigh, dropping it into a clear plastic bag before temporarily dressing your wound as you whisper out your thanks, your voice gone horse as the need for sleep overtakes your body.

"Hey, hey, hey. Gotta stay awake for now. Your wound will soon become infected if I can't dress it properly. We haven't got enough supplies in here-" Kyle starts to say before Price cuts him off- taking another sharp turn as you make your way out of the city.

"Anyone know of any places we can stand down for awhile, get their leg done-up?"

The car is met by silence as you groan out, closing your eyes harshly before cursing. Simon turns to look back at you- he knows what you are planning to say before he tilts his head to your opening eyes. Asking if this is really what you were going to do.

You only nod once before looking through the rear-view mirror at Price, "I know a place..."

"Tell me which turn to take next." And before you know it, the last of your secrets withheld from the group are about to fall like a house made of cards.

The sun had began to rise as Price pulls into the dirt driveway. A dull-yellow farmhouse sits atop a hill with a wrap-around porch to add to its charm. Gaz looks out the window and back at you, confused as to why you know of this place- seemingly off-the-grid. You only offer a small bittersweet smile in return before asking him to help you out of the car and to the front door.

Johnny stumbles out of the trunk as Simon pulls him aside, warning his best-mate to keep his outbursts and comments to a lesser state before walking up the front stairs. Soap looks around with squinted eyes, the garden is well-kept as is the exterrior of the home. The lawn freshly mowed as a swing drifts lightly in the wind from under an oak tree just down the hill. A few sets of bikes sit by the garage- painted a farmhouse red as he hears you fumble through your keys kept within your tactical vest.

Swearing out, Simon shoves him once in warning before the door is opneing and the boys soon follow you inside. Dusting off their boots while staring into the space in awe.

"This is not the usual safehouse- what is this place?" Gaz asks you while stepping into the living room and picking up a picture frame from a side-table. He looks at the image intently before turning it to the Captain who clutches the frame in his hands, a softness coating his eyes as he stares at your back.

You are unknowing of their stares as you walk into the kitchen. The sink is flowing as dishes are being stacked on the countertop. A radio plays a distant tune from the sunroom as you wrap your arms around your partner who looks up quickly. Viewing your reflection with theirs as they scream out in suprize. Dropping the plate while drying off their hands- they give you a large hug and kiss on the cheek, you feel as their hands shake against your form.

Price, Johnny, and Kyle all race over to the commotion as Simon leans against the archway to the living-room, his eyes crinkled as he hears feet stirring from up the stairs.

Wrapping your arm around your partners waist, they lean their head on your shoulder before narrowing their eyes playfully at all the new bodies in the home, "And who might these people be, luv?"

"Hmmm, just a couple of strangers from work" you say in a teasing tone before kissing their forehead and casting a smile at Johnny who stands with his mouth-agape.

Price steps forward, your wedding-day picture found back on the table as he extends his hand towards your partner- giving it a light shake while introducing himself. His brain still firing on how you managed to hide this all from him for years. His eyes shift over to your own, his head with a slight tilt as you mouth, not now at the sounds of little feet running down the stairs- calling out your name.

"Mom/dad! you're back-you're back!" they call out, clashing into your legs as you wince out slightly- your wound still open as your partners eyes fall to it in shock before removing the children from you.

Kissing the tops of their heads and giving their hair a slight ruffle. You look over at Simon who stands with his arms crossed by the stairs- someone is a bit disappointed. "I think you forgot to hug Uncle Simon back as well," you tease out as the children jump up and down before tackling the man to the ground.

Shaking your head at the scene as your partner laughs beside you, Kyles cough breaks your focus as he points to your leg, "ah-yes, sweetheart? do you know where the medical kit is?"

"by the sink dear... I will... leave you both to that one," they say with a slight wince escaping their mouth at their ends yet their eyes hold determination- you will be getting an earful of it tonight in bed.

Giving them a wide smile, you crack Gaz one on the back before hobbling over to the kitchen sink once more.

As you exit the room, Kyle following in tow. John speaks to your partner, "Had I have known- I would have never came here. I apologize for barging in on your family."

Your partner looks as the men, throwing a waving hand in their face, "My love did their best to keep this place off the files and databases- that could only last for so long- I suppose. Laswell did her fair-share to help us as well- she knows of our situation all too well..." they trail off- staring at Johnny's freshly inked tattoo with a smile.

"You know- I was very confused when they wanted to get new ink done. Good to see the reason why now- I was always happy to know they had more partners out there. Thank you for making sure they come home to me every time... I-I would never know what to do without them- the kids would say the same."

"It's an honour truly, ma'am/sir, serving by your partners side. Seeing what you both have made here... it only pushes me to work harder in order to obtain the same," Johnny says, a blush coating his cheeks as he feels Simon staring him down from building legos with the kids on the rug. The masked-man gives Soap a nod in gratitude before introducing the kids as your partner moves to clean the upstairs guest rooms.

John exits the house, seemingly overwhelmed by the images and nature of the estate. Looking at the various rolling hills, the flowers drifting in the morning breeze as birds sing in the air. He closes his eyes, standing on the porch- letting off a sigh.

"Everything al'right, John?" Gaz says from the doorway, drying off his hands with a hand-made hand towel. The Captain closes his eyes before turning around to answer, "I think that an old man like me is discovering everything that this job hasn't allowed me to do."

"Cap-" Gaz begins to reply, his eyes falling in worry as he walks over to Price.

"No, no. Its what must be done so others can have lives like this," Price says while shaking his heads and looking off to the side. You yell lunchtime from the kitchen as every flocks to the sunroom overlooking the farm-grounds.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you enjoyed this!

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wretcheddthing · 1 year

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7 Comfort Movies

i was tagged by @cuteallo and i’m Watching you.

1) The Mummy (1999): We Know. If you know me you know this. Hold on I’m going to go take a picture of my bumper sticker (you know the one)

I have a poster hanging up in my room. It’s my all time most favorite movie Ever. Plus it just feels like a love letter to classic Universal monsters which I didn’t really Get until my good buddy Jamie got me interested in the history of it while I was doing research for my old radio show. Some of the creative choices and definitely the horror elements were so precisely implemented to mimic classic horror set tropes, like how the moon is always huge and bright and a little too big. And it’s SO quotable. RIDDLED with problems, but Roger Ebert said it best, “There is hardly a thing I can say in its favor, except that I was cheered by nearly every minute of it. I cannot argue for the script, the direction, the acting or even the mummy, but I can say that I was not bored and sometimes I was unreasonably pleased.“

2) Howl’s Moving Castle: I don’t think I need to explain this one. It’s a movie that Radiates comfort. I watched it at least a couple times back to back the last time i got sick.

3) Atlantis: The Lost Empire: This movie is directly responsible (in conjunction with The Mummy and Uncharted) for a full cast of OCs. This movie is part of the reason I’ve taken so many archaeology courses and helped out at a dig site last summer. also in conjunction with the mummy and uncharted

4) Mamma Mia: it reminds me of my mom ;-; i grew up with ABBA because of her, she took me to see this in theaters when it came out. she lives a couple states away now and is currently utilizing her retirement to spend a month abroad and i miss her very much. will probably watch this later

5) Brave: I made myself sad bc i miss my mom. This is one I took her to see in theaters, and let me tell you were there not other people in the theater i would have been openly sobbing. Also it’s just a damn fine movie. It came out around the time I was deeply interested in archery and i am partially Scottish so on the surface it seemed right up my alley. but then the story got me and i cannot watch it without crying

6) Zombieland: Stealing this one from Teagan because hard same. Found family, zombies, reminiscent of Left 4 Dead. Good memories with that game playing it with my older sibling on their XBox 360 whenever they came up to visit :) Also it’s SO HARD to find decent zombie shit now!!! no one gets it! nobody gets it anymore they’re all like “the people are the real monsters” NO. THAT’S NOTHING. THAT’S NOT INTERESTING. USE ZOMBIES AS THE METAPHORICAL TOOL THEY ARE TO ELEVATE HUMAN STORIES. COWARDS.

7) The Martian: It’s my favorite book of all time and as far as movie adaptations go I really don’t think it’s that bad. Mark Watney’s gotta be one of the characters ever made. I read this book every single year now because I related to it at a time I really needed to (see: high school) and the movie is pretty faithful imo. Look I have a drawing for it

anyways i think i made this post too long and i would say it’s bc i’m a film minor but i didn’t say anything really insightful about any of these movies i just like to talk i’m tagging @gilarroyo @olliesaurus-rex @prioriincantatemx @elliewilliams @adairable-dirks @jamiechanga and whosoever wishes to participate

#personal #tag games #tagged as me #friends #long post #also i see your tags teagan you are absolutely correct i would GET YOU for including before sunrise #*pointing* linklater stan

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blogfullofemos · 2 years

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Lonely is a Man Without Love

(Thank you sssooo much guys for the many receptive love I've been given. Truly appreciate the time you guys took out of your day. Here's the next part. @later-gators12 enjoy my friend 😌.)

Warnings: We got some blood but other than that, nothing bad. A little action ain't hurt nobody.

Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader, original character x fem!character.

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Steven just loves to pull on your heart strings huh? How can you keep your cool... Also Steven fighting... Please help Marc.

Writer Notes: I know I squish the words together when Marisol talks, but being hispanic myself, you know exactly what I mean lmao.

The thin white drapes of your small motel casted a dreary hue within it’s British-inspired walls. London’s thunderous storm adding more to its depressive pull. You sit at one of the corner-ends to the twin-size bed as a small antique radio quietly plays news static. Next to it rested Athena standing with pride as her sword pierced the stone beneath her, a torn piece of paper covering her face. Steven’s big shaky handwriting of his phone number written sloppily against the lines. You stare as a small smile crept up, reminiscing the many reintroductions of Steven Grant as the days passed. The way his face gotten redder and redder as you both shared a passionate discourse of Greek Gods & Goddesses, the many big smiles he gave as you explained your side to its history. “I’m sorry madam, but the shop is now closing.” the female cashier informs you with a courteous smile. Piercing Steven with a highly annoyed side eye as she walked off, pissed about cleaning up the shop’s mess, especially Steven’s. Steven giving her a sympathetic crooked smile, he brings his attention back to you, “I’m sorry (Y/N), I’m going to go help Frances clean up shop. It was really amazing meeting you. Goodbye for now.” he says as he quickly follows behind the seething Frances.

Your heart couldn’t help but flip at his courteous moments, rather rare to see in such a man. But the further he went, the more your mind screamed “GET HIS NUMBER YOU CLOWN!!”.

“Wait!!” you yelled unexpectedly, causing them both to turn to you. Steven with bewilderment and Frances with “Now what’s wrong with her?” look. You didn’t have to yell, well you didn’t mean to honestly, your face burned up with embarrassment. “Um, can I get your number?” you ask lowly, your head instinctively going down to hide your vulnerability.

“What was that beautiful?” he asks walking back towards you, his ears not picking up the words at all. Your face smoldering more by his compliment, you hated this. You hated this so much. You force yourself to look up at him, exposing a beet red face to Steven making his blush look rather fake “I said can I have your number?” you repeat with clenched fist. God why did this hurt so much? Steven bites his bottom lip as he tries to contain a foolish smile, digging his hands in his pants pockets. He pulls out a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper and quickly ripped the top corner of it. Thanking the heavens that he’s a tour guide to nothing but toddlers.

“Hey Frances, you got a pen?.. Marker?.. Anything to write with?” he asks as he realizes he’s missing the most important part of this ordeal.

M: Now how are you a teacher without a pen? We gotta do better Steven…

Steven ignores Marc’s sly comment as Frances intentionally slams a marker in his hand, rolling her eyes as she walks away. Steven places the small, ripped piece of paper on the window and quickly writes numbers with dashes on its crumpled surface. Once he finishes, he hands it to you, a smile never leaving him. “Don’t lose it now.” he says shyly.

You bite your bottom lip as your mouth instinctually pulls upward. He probably thinks you lost it by now, but today you’ll find your way back to him. Suddenly your phone lights up as it vibrates harshly next to Athena, the screen showing: Marisol. You get off the bed and take your phone of the dresser’s wooden surface, swiping to pick up the call from your best friend. “Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail box of 100% that bit-.” you say in monotone, trying to steady your breathing from laughing.

“Shut the fuck up bitch.” Marisol’s spanish accent laugh out making you laugh “You almost got me.” she finishes. You sit back down and twirl your fingers around the thin blanket, your eyes wandering back to Steven’s number. “So when were you going to tell me?” Marisol asks with fake hurt.

“Mari, you know this is part of my job description.” you sigh, “You think I want to keep leaving you behind.” you say as you plop your back down on the uncomfortably firm bed, affirming the most hated part of your job. Resting the back of your hand on your forehead, you stare at the speckled ceiling weighing the pros and cons of being with Steven. “I know, BUT PARIS!!” she elates.

“It’s not Paris, speci-.” you try to retort but Marisol’s excitement cuts you off.

“You better send me pictures or something more, you know, I wouldn’t mind a little piece of Paris in my mundane life.” she theatrically emphasizes mundane, making you chuckle at her guilt trapping words.

“I’ll see what I can do. But for the time being, I must prepare. Luckily I’ve gotten a break since I’ve landed, but I know I’m going to be assigned for something soon. Anywayyy how’s everything back home?”.

“Girl…” you can feel Marisol’s classic eye roll from your small talk.

“What?” you laugh already knowing the answer.

“You know you’re the only eventful person I have in my life. When I’m bored, I run to you, so how do you think everything is going?” she says sarcastically.

“Pretty relaxing.”

“BITCH ITS BEEN DEAD!! Jariel has been cooped up in our home office because of work, and between you&me I haven’t gotten any for a minute. OH!! Your mama is doing well and toldmetotellyou to call her when you can. Also Gobbles is giving me a headache.” she growls as you hear Gobbles the pug do his screech, never learning how to bark like a normal dog. You hear his nails scatter about through the receiver. You giggle as you roll around the bed and kick your feet up, Steven’s bashful face floating around your mind. If your cellphone had a cord, you’ll definitely be twirling it around your fingers right about now. You cuss at yourself mentally as you see the start of a love dopamine rush. Snapping yourself out of its addictive pull. “Marisol… It happened again.” you hint, losing the fight with yourself.

“What.” she quietly exclaims, her excitement muted.

“Sooo there’s this guyyy.” you drawl, dropping your hopeless romantic face into the bed.

“OMG, TELL ME EVERYTHING AMIGA!!” she screeches like when you guys saw your favorite boy band appear on stage. You gave her the rundown of Steven, exaggerating some details and getting giddy with others. You finally finish with rushed breathing as you laid on your back again, exhausted from rolling around the bed as you gush. Yeah, Steven’s made an impression that was hard to scratch away. “(Y/N) put that number on your phone and stop being a baby. You know I don’t get you someti-.” Marisol says but your focus gets ripped away by a loud beeping sound inside the top dresser drawer.

“Mari, I’ll call you back.” you end the conversation, as your body’s temperature drops in seconds. Hanging up, you get off the bed and toss your phone on it. You open the empty drawer and retrieve the beeping burner phone, flipping it open “Hello.” You say cautiously.

“They still have you on their radar, keep moving. We’ve created you a new identity card and we’ll drone it to your location. It might take months before they’ll cool off, be careful with your side endeavors. God bless, be safe Niner.” The call drops, vanishing into its technological ether. Your heart races as you cuss silently, slight paranoia creeping into your mindscape as your eyes frantically assess your surroundings. You toss the burner phone on the dresser’s hard surface as you take a deep breath in, gripping the side of it with white knuckles. You look at Athena once more as cold sweat quickly builds up within you.

Meanwhile…

Steven slams the human-like cougar into London’s-soaked asphalt alley, simultaneously the cougar demon grabs his tie causing Steven to fall by the force of his. Landing on top of the cougar-man.

M: And this is why we don’t wear ties in a gunfight Steven.

Steven rolls around with the cougar demon, throwing punches, some connecting, most hitting back the pelting raindrops. As Steven ends up on top of the demon again, he wails at the cougar’s face, but for some reason it doesn’t seem to affect the demon as it did past ones. “Marc this is-.” but Steven is interrupted by the demon gripping his head. Headbutting Steven with the force of a jet. “GuS, is ThAt YoU?” he says dazed, as the demon hits him with another one; knocking Steven back on the ground. The demon stalks its body back up as it purrs seeing Steven’s unconscious masked face seeping slowly with blood coming out his nose. Suddenly white fabric snakes around the demon from behind, before the demon has time to react the tough fabric tightens. In seconds the demon collapses as its head pops off from its body, turning into rain-soaked soot. Khonshu’s God-like silhouette looking down at the irradicated demon’s dust, thunder lighting up the cloudy day above. Khonshu kneels and swipes his gloved hand in the soot, investigating it as he circles it around his fingers. “He’s back.” he summarizes.

Khonshu stands back up and walks toward the still unconscious Steven, watching as Steven’s costume dissipates as his feet stops by his shoulders. Steven grunts as Khonshu taps the end of his moon staff on his cheek. “Steven.” Khonshu says displeased continuing his incessant staff taps.

“No Gus… It’s not for you to eat.” Steven mumbles with a snore, still lost in his sleep as he slaps the staff.

“STEVEN!!” Khonshu booms causing Steven to sit up quickly as he wakes up shouting Marc’s name. Steven frantically searches around him, calming as he sees Khonshu’s bird-skull face looking down at him. “Is it gone?” Steven smiles with a bloody mouth, one of his front teeth chipped ever so slightly. A slanted gash on his nose, as his left eye swells and darkens ever so slightly. Khonshu walks away from him and disappear, but not until he smacked Steven on the back of his head. “OWA!!” Steven exclaims as he tries to rub the pain away.

“Let Marc handle the hands next time.” Khonshu’s voice echoes throughout the thunderous rain.

M: I try to tell him Khonshu, but nooo Steven’s name is with a V.

“Piss off.” Steven retorts as he slumps his body, trying to regain strength in his sore muscles. He lets the rain pelt his bruised body, as he tries to get a grasp of the demon he fought minutes ago. Usually the demon’s weren’t hard to kill, even though Steven panic-quit mid fight most of them. Marc always having to take the brunt of it. But once in a blue, they would be blindsided by how they killed their opponents. But this demon, this demon wasn’t easy to even shake. A sound of wind chimes breaks his thinking, as his phone vibrates in his shirt pocket.

He hisses in pain as his head aches from the sound, pulling the phone out and swiping the screen. An unknown number texting him.

You: Hey Steven it’s me (Y/N). I’m free today if you want to continue our fast chat.

You: Last* 😅

Steven forgets everything that happened prior as a huge smile dance across his beaten face. His fingers quickly tapping against the wet screen, like his heart.

Steven: I would love to (Y/N). Give me 2 hours tops, and I’ll be ready.

M: Steven let me front.

Steven finally gets off the ground with a grunt as he feels his muscles stretch out the pain. “No Marc, she doesn’t even know us yet. Plus this is-.” he’s cut off by another notification sound.

You: Okay… Where do you want to go since I’m new to these parts of town. 🤠

Steven chuckles at your corny text, limping as he walks blindly to his flat.

Steven: Wow you’re putting my tour guiding skills to good use already. But how about a café. I know one that serves great tea with the best bakery goods any man would die for.

Steven: Okay I might’ve over done that last one, but like

Steven: I would die for it

Steven: Not really though

Steven: Okay that might’ve been a lie… 😅

M: You’re doing too much with the texting Steven. 5 messages in 25 seconds… Not a good look.

“I’m sorry Marc, that I’m excited about this. I haven’t had a proper date since….” he drawls as his face falls a little remembering Layla, “You know.” he finishes. He looks around London’s streets as he checks the address signs, seeing that his flat is not too far from here.

His phone chimes again and he physically gasps in disgust at your text.

You: So Starbucks it is.

Steven: 😐🤢🤮😥 How could you….

You: What? I could go for a cold brew right about now.

Steven: 🤧 Please no more…

You: And those cheese danishes…. Warmed up…. A gift from the Heavens.. 🙏

Steven lets out an ashamed wail, making passerby’s even more uncomfortable near him. “Marc she’s been corrupted.” he exaggerates his shame to a random stranger.

“My names not Marc.” the Irish man says defensively, ramming his shoulder into Steven’s as he walks off. Causing Steven to mumble “Sorry mate.”, as the force of the shoulder bump made him spin around and walk backwards.

M: Steven let’s get to the flat before you start any more unnecessary issues. We have a date at 5 sharp and looking at you…. We need to hurry.

#steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #marvel #moon knight fandom #moon knight fanfic #a little bit of action #marc spector #a hint of khonshu #original character #phone conversation #I love me some steven #this made me smile while writing #also Egyptian demons are type wild

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dancer-subclarington · 2 years

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-May 3, afternoon-

I’d put this whole thing under read more if i knew how to on mobile, its not important i just dont want to misplace it so i gotta post it

Texts

Kyla: Can you dig through my stuff and find something to post National Dance Day?

Sutton: Why?

Kyla: Sometimes we dancers like to dance on dance day.

Sutton: So dance and post it like usual

Kyla: We had a horrible excuse for a field trip over the weekend

Sutton: That sucks, but so?

Kyla: We went to the auction house and stayed there a few days doing slave things because apparently that makes sense to someone.

Sutton: Oh no, did someone make you do labor?

Kyla: Yes actually

Sutton: Not enough actual human sized people at your school? They gotta send you to do it, the little fairy, really?

Kyla: We all did it.

Sutton: Damn the humanity

Kyla: There was not much humanity

Sutton: Sorry babe. You okay?

Kyla: I need you to come hug me. Like really gently.

Sutton: I’m in Paris rn

Kyla: Excuses, come on you’ve been in paris since I got here!

Sutton: I’ll be back to NY next week. Im sure you can find someone there to hug you. I only like hugging you to annoy you anyway.

Kyla: Will you find something to post please? My mom called because I didn’t post on dance day and wanted to make sure I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.

Sutton: You don’t have a computer?

Kyla: Omgggg shut up

Sutton: Fine, I’ll post something. It’ll have to be a tbt from a long time ago. Otherwise people will wonder why you’re posting stuff you’ve already done before.

Kyla: If you choose My Boyfriends Back i will kill you

Sutton: So we’re talking Single Ladies then?

Kyla: Yes, Sutton, do that, because for mother’s day I decided to get my mom a heart attack.

Sutton: Fine I’ll put up Secrets on the one your mom follows.

Kyla: Don’t put up single ladies or my boyfriends back on any of them, I finally got randos on youtube to stop calling me a slut for a dance I did when I was 8.

Sutton: Fine, I’ll find something else embarrassing.

Kyla: Wtf is wrong with you

Sutton: You’re hiding something from me and while it’s cute that you think you’re getting away with it, its also annoying that you’re doing it. Why can’t you dance, Kyla?

Kyla: You go do labor and dumbass workouts and sleep on concrete for a couple days and then throw yourself around a dance studio. Actually since you’re not a dancer, that would be hilarious.

Sutton: Now you’re throwing in a joke to make me think you’re fine

Kyla: I so fucking hate you

Sutton: You hate that I’m one of maybe 4 people on earth you can’t talk circles around

Kyla: That’s true. Just post Burlesque to my other socials

Sutton: The one you danced or the one you choreographed?

Kyla: Idc. Thx, ttyl

Sutton: Yeah no we’re not done here.

Kyla: Oh, right, I meant to ask you to book me for those podcast guest slots please.

Sutton: The ones you had no interest in?

Kyla: You said their audiences grew and that it’d be good exposure. Or something like that. Anyway, I found out there’s a radio station in town, so I could probably record there.

Sutton: Why now? Why not when I told you that a few weeks ago?

Kyla: You’re exhausting

-Sutton video calls Kyla-

Kyla: Not answering that

Sutton: It’d suck if I accidentally posted Burlesque to the account your mom follows.

Kyla: It’d suck if I told Ryan about Vegas

Sutton: One time I did that. How many times have you done dances you don’t want your parents to see?

Kyla: Ughhhhhh. I hope your hair frizzes up

Sutton: Tell me what I want to know.

Kyla: I already did. They sent me to do manual labor and I’m tiny

Sutton: But you’re really fit.

Kyla: When I move around. Doing one thing for hours on end makes me hella crampy apparently.

Sutton: You always tell me you can just dance through a cramp

Kyla: That’s my foot, not my everything else.

Sutton: You aren’t going to win this, Kyla.

Kyla: I’m not about to give in to your shit

Sutton: I think you are

Kyla: You’re not sending anything to my parents.

Sutton: No Im not. But I’m not going to stand back and let someone hurt you again.

Kyla: It was a field trip

Sutton: You wouldn’t be lying to cover for someone, would you?

Kyla: You weren’t even there when I had a problem.

Sutton: I saw the aftermath

Kyla: You saw me yell at people at a photo shoot. Once.

Sutton: Once was enough.

Kyla: I have 3 soldier brothers here. Nobody’s gonna touch me.

Sutton: You’re too hurt to dance.

Kyla: I had a small disagreement with a guard at the auction house and he didn’t like it.

Sutton: And for that he hurt you?

Kyla: Yep

Sutton: You expect me to believe that you were so unruly in a disagreement that prompted a guard to hurt a student? Really?

Kyla: I imagine I made him question his masculinity.

Sutton: It took you way too long to tell me that

Kyla: Wow sorry, next time you’re trying to get in my business I’ll make sure to fold faster.

Sutton: Thank you, much appreciated

Kyla: You done being a bitch now?

Sutton: Probably. Looks like your dance stuff is on my other laptop though so you’ll have to post a set of turns or something if you absolutely have to post something.

Kyla: Wow all that and you’re not helpful

Sutton: Have someone qualified check you out

Kyla: One of the subs here is a medic and he said he’d help

Sutton: Good. And don’t do it again. Your time to be bad is over

Kyla: I was never bad

Sutton: That’s on you, kid. If this is a thing where you’re covering for someone hurting you, go tell your brother before it goes any farther.

Kyla: If I do a dance and post it, will you shut up?

Sutton: Probably.

Kyla: Fine.

Sutton: You said you’re too hurt. Don’t be an idiot.

Kyla: I can do a hip hop one, I just can’t do a lot of floor work or leg extensions.

Sutton: You can do a dance with no leg extensions?

Kyla: Barely but yes.

#texts #text: sutton #self #self para #personality

0 notes

wangxianficrecs · 3 years

Photo

Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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little-honeypie · 3 years

Text

Loch-hearted

The mighty Hunter Vanguard, Cayde-6 finishes off his 'great' and 'inspirational' speech with everyone gathered round cheering at the thought of loot. You shake your head, pushing your way through the crowd to the edge where your few personal items reside neatly packed into or laid beside your backpack. The crowd disperses and the fireteams pair up. You can't help but think about yours, where they are and if they're even alive. The thought turns your stomach over, making the colour drain from your face as you worry over your treasured dumbasses. Though most see you as the 'lone wolf' or antisocial type and, to be fair, you are. Mostly. Those who dare get close tend to find out you're mostly bark and little bite. You reach down into a side pocket of your bag, carefully dragging a knife from its holster. You look over it, gently tracing the engravings in the blade made by one of the hunters on your team. It says something in a language you can't read and knowing the hunter that gave it to you, you probably don't want to know but at least it looks aesthetically pleasing. You hear a shuffle of footsteps directly behind you and without thinking, you spin on your heels, thrusting the knive's blade towards where you estimate your opponent's throat to be but simply stab something solid. They yell and jump back. Cayde! He rubs his chest with a whine.

"I woulda expected this from one of my hunters, not one of Ikora's nerds!"

He exclaims. Your face regains its colour but only to defy you and show how embarrassed you are from almost potentially killing the hunter vanguard. You lean forward, bowing and apologizing profusely. He laughs, looking at you with consideration.

"Just came over 'ere caaause you weren't headin out or pairin up."

He unholsters his hand cannon, the Ace of Spades with a flashy twirl.

"Came to kill ya unless ya got an excuse."

You stare at him like a deer in the headlights.

"I uhm... I was about to head out..."

He snorts.

"And your fireteam?"

You look to your feet. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes his mouth.

"Riiigght... Are you a newlight, guardian?"

You shake your head.

"Alive for two years, sir."

"Good good, and 'sir'? I like that."

He grabs his chin in thought.

"I like that A LOT."

He repeats. He hums, thinking it over. Obviously not thoroughly.

"Alright, it's decided."

You tilt your head.

"What's decided?"

"You. You're decided."

Your brows come together to form a concerned frown.

"I'm decided?"

"Yup, you're on my fireteam now."

You blink at the Exo.

"What?"

"What's what? You're on my team now with Ikora, speaking of Ikora, where is Ikora? Ikora!"

He wanders away shouting and looking for your vanguard, leaving you to gawk at what just happened. You grab your bag, throwing your arms through the straps and picking up anything you didn't pack away. You run after him to keep up but you keep losing sight of him through the bundles of lightless guardians. You whine. He's a vanguard. And though not awfully serious about his job, defying him even accidentally could end you up in trouble! You look around through the various exo faces but can't find him anywhere. Your heart rate picks up. Where'd he go? Was he joking about you being on his fireteam? Your head clouds with millions of different thoughts, none the same, all colliding with one another. You feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn as tears threaten to escape down your face. You hear your ghost's voice softly telling you that you'll be ok and there's no need to stress but you can't help it. You just want to run away and hide. You feel a hand grip your left shoulder firmly and spin you around.

"Eyyyyy, Guardian! Lost ya there, also lost Ikora but found yo- Guardian, are you crying?"

It's Cayde's turn to be the deer in the headlights now because he stares, blinking at you with a shocked look. He gently places his other hand on your right shoulder.

"Hey..."

He says softly as if he were speaking to an animal or child.

"You alright? Did one of those big mean titans say something to you? I'll fight em, you know."

You shake your head, not meeting his gaze. He looks around awkwardly.

"Uhhh, look, we gotta get civilians out buuuut uhhh... Come, come."

He lets you go, spinning on his heels and slipping into the crowd again. Your stomach spins with anxiety, making you sick as you quickly push past guardians. This time you can see the Hunter vanguard but he's still moving too fast. You reach forward, just managing to grab hold of the hem of his cloak to keep track of him. He turns to see who or what has his cloak, thinking it's a potential thief. He stares at you once again, looking from you to your hand that holds his cloak. He tilts his head for a moment before chuckling.

"Ah."

He gently swats you from his cape and offers you his hand, his faceplates move to give you a soft smile of sorts.

"No more running off then."

He says genuinely. You take his hand in yours.

"Well, now we just run off together."

He jokes, coaxing a grin from you. You round up as many groups of civilians and lightless guardians as you can without being detected by Cabal and herd them from the city to safety. Ikora and Zavala are M.I.A and the vanguard radio channels are silent, some are filled with riddles and codes that you, nor your ghost can decipher. Despite feeling helpless, at least you have Cayde by your side. He reminds you of your hunters or maybe they remind you of him, either way, you can't help but think about them. The anxiety plagues your dreams, waking you up gasping for air with your hair sticking to your face from your cold sweat. Cayde springs to his feet, weapon drawn, spooked by you.

"What is it, guardian?"

He asks, looking around for any sign of danger. You breathe deeply to calm your nerves before shaking your head.

"Nightmares... Sorry."

You sigh, lifting your hand to your chest to feel how fast your heart is going as if it will help. He stows his weapon and takes a seat beside you, pulling his knees to his chest as he looks at you from the corner of his optics.

"What about?"

He asks.

"Of course, I understand if ya don't wanna talk about it but hey, I've been told I'm really good at comforting people."

You half laugh, wiping sleep from your eyes.

"Uhm... I dunno, it's kind of a cluster fuck... At first I'm with my fireteam and I hear the sound of a ketch when they're all gunned down around me and I can't do anything... Then, I'm where I was originally resurrected..."

You copy his positioning, pulling your knees to your chest, resting your arms along them and then your chin. He tilts his head to watch your face.

"And... Where were you ressed, Guardian?"

You close your eyes with a cringe and a sigh.

"I originally woke up in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by my half decayed... Crewmates? I don't know what we were but I think we were military of some sort..."

You feel your nails dig into your skin as you tell your story.

"There was little oxygen and I couldn't just transmat out... Let's just say no amount of ressing will teach you how to swim... It was rough to say the least."

He hesitates for a moment before placing a gentle hand on your back and slowly rubbing it in a soothing gesture.

"Well, you don't have to do any swimming, like, at all. Promise. Only kinda swimming we'll do is swim in the loot we get after we win this war, alright?"

You chuckle.

"C'mere, you'll sleep better if ya got a big strong hunter to sleep on, warlock. Careful, I have a lot of knives, I miiiight be pointy."

He jokes as he pulls you carefully against him. You've read the leaked bits of fanfiction he's written about a hunter and warlock, maybe he's romanticising the situation but you don't quite care. Whether he is or not, it's kinda comforting. He lies back beside your sleeping bag while you stretch your limbs out from your previous foetal position and rest your head on his chest. You hear the 'bud-um, bud-um' of his robotic heart. You listen silently to the steady rhythm for a while, closing your eyes and simply taking the sounds of the exo in

"I didn't know you had a heart." You tiredly mumble. He laughs grogily.

"Thanks."

He says sarcastically.

"Noooooo"

You whine.

"I didn't mean it like that... I didn't know exo's had hearts... I don't know what I thought you had though..."

He brings his hand up and gently combs through your messy and knotted hair.

"Eyes down, guardian, I got you."

He mumbles. Over the past few days he's done nothing but poke fun and be overly annoying but his words make your stomach twist and turn which confuses you greatly because it's not... In a bad way. You let out a sigh, nuzzling your face tiredly against him. He smells like grease, gun powder and a strange mixture of spices that all burn your nose very slightly but you don't mind.

As the early morning rays just reach their fingers of light over the hill you're both perched on, you wake wrapped in the exo's cloak. You yawn as a shiver runs through your body and you draw the worn material closer. Cayde's arms are still snaked around you. You lift your head and look to your fire that has long since gone out. It's cold. You should get some more wood. You carefully and slowly get up, doing your best to not disturb the vanguard. You carefully set his cloak over him. As you step away from your half assed campsite, he groans lightly.

"Where are you goin?"

He asks groggily.

"Just out to get some firewood, I won't be long, promise."

He hums tiredly as he rolls over.

"Don't go too far."

He mumbles. You don't have to walk far to find sticks and wood but none of it's dry due to the early morning dew. You groan and move deeper into the forest in hopes to find dry wood. Even a little would do just to get it going. You stumble over a few tree roots, falling on to your hands and knees with a yelp. You laugh at yourself. Warlocks are supposed to be the most graceful of all classes but you are an absolute clutz. You dust yourself off, clutching what sticks and wood you've collected with a weak grip due to the cold having worked it's way into your fingers. 'Maybe I can get a fire going' you think. 'I'll just use my solar abilities and- oh, right.' No powers. You groan. How did Cayde get it going last night? He probably has a lighter or something. Oh well. Your mind wanders to Cayde. Why does he treat you the way he does? You'd met previously but only brief conversations, a handful of bounties and then some loot exchange but that's about it. Sure, you've always found him intriguing and by all means, attractive but he could've talked to anyone from that crowd but he singled you out. You weren't the only solo guardian there. Why you? Why did he choose you of all guardians? There were older, more experienced guardians and hunters! Why did he choose a small warlock like you? You're distracted by the thoughts until you hear the crunching of footsteps surrounding you. You look up and around. Oh god, what's there? It could just be deer! But it's never that simple... You groan.

"Alright, whatever you are, just... Lemme go. I don't wanna hurt you. Just lemme go light my fire."

You squint at the bushes around you, trying to make out what it is when bright blue eyes stare back at you. And lots of them. Fallen. A small Fallen squadron has surrounded you. Great. You step back only to hear one of the Dregs call to the others. This can't be good. They step from the shadows and into the light that barely squeezes past the leaves of the trees. There's a captain, a handful of dregs and one wretch.

"Please, grant me passage."

You plead to no avail.

"We are alike, the great machine has been taken from the both of us, please do not fight me."

They simply stare at you, chattering occasionally to one another as they wait for you to move. You sigh, moving to step around the captain that looms above you only for him to swing at you. You move back with ease, avoiding the hit only to back up into the arms of a dreg, you stamp it's foot and when it lets go, you drop your wood, spin around and punch it out. More advance. You take out a few more, completely distracted from the Captain before you feel his claws wrap tightly around your upper arms. His lower arms wrap around your stomach tightly, squishing you until it hurts. You yell in pain from his iron grip. He laughs as his one and only Wretch approaches, arc spear drawn and buzzing with electricity. You kick, flail and do whatever you can to get free but it's no use.

"Get the fuck away from me!!"

You yell as the wretch thrusts it's spear into your thigh. You scream so loud that it echoes back in the valley around you. Your body convulses involuntarily from the arc running through it. 'This is it.' you think as you quickly start to reach your limit. You close your eyes. All you can hear is their sick, twisted laughter and the zap of the electric weapon before a loud shot rings out and the arc spear is pulled from your leg, tearing your flesh with it. You squeal but give a very slight sigh of relief before you dare to open your eyes to see the wretch dead on the ground, head missing from its shoulders. There's another shot and suddenly the captain's grip is completely gone. The Fallen drops to the ground, dead. You collapse with a loud whimper, unable to support your own weight. Your hunter companion is at your side. You hear him say... Something. Whatever it was, you can't make it out. He reaches for you but flinches back when he gets zapped. Your eyes flicker open, then closed over and over as you fight for consciousness. Blood pours from your thigh. Though the spear cauterized the wound it inflicted though, when it was pulled out, it pulled the flesh it had adhered to out with it, opening the wound. Cayde grips the wound tightly in attempt to stop the bleeding which only makes you mewl with what little consciousness you have left. He lets go, carefully looping his arms underneath your back and legs and carries you back to the campsite. He lays you down on his sleeping bag because it's not like you could make it anymore dirty. He frantically digs into your bag in hopes that you have some sort of medical supplies and luckily enough, you have a travel sized medkit stashed in the bottom of your backpack. He scoots close to you, fumbling open the case and digging through, grabbing a small bottle of disinfectant and a bandage roll.

"This is gonna hurt."

He says as warning but you can barely hear him. He twists off the cap and pours it over your wound, making you squirm and groan with what little strength you have left. He shushes you softly as he ties the bandage around your leg tightly. You feel your head fall to the side as unconsciousness wins the fight over your body. You wake to a throbbing pain that courses through your body. You see Cayde sitting by you, hugging his knees to his chest and staring into the fire that he got going. You grunt and sit up only for your head to spin and be grabbed by your hunter companion and pushed back down.

"You're not ready for that, Nessy. You'll hurt yourself if you do that."

You reach your hand to your head as if it will stop the ache and the spinning but surprisingly enough, it has no effect! A sigh escapes your lips.

"How long have I been out?"

You ask.

"All day."

He says dismissively.

"All day?!"

You sit up suddenly again only to get the same results as last time.

"Guardian, are you TRYING to kill yourself? Cause you're going the right way about it."

You whine.

"We were supposed to move camp today."

He scoffs.

"Yeah, well we can't do that, can we? Not in your condition..."

You frown but you know he's right.

"How does it look? Cause it feels greeeeat."

You say sarcastically. He chuckles.

"I changed the bandage a few hours ago. You should heal fine but we needa work on getting our light back."

"I'll get right on it."

He looks at you with an amused expression.

"Well come on, chop chop, hero! Ya shoulda done it by now!"

You share a laugh, quickly falling into silence. You slowly reach out to him, only just being able to reach his hip. You tug gently on his form fitting shirt for his attention. He looks from your hand to you.

"Guardian! I don't think you're in shape for something like that!"

He says jokingly. You frown, confused by his words before it sinks in. Your face goes bright with embarrassment.

"Not what I wanted!!"

You say defensively, making him snort and laugh. He sighs fondly, scooting close to you and carefully pulling you to him, he's so gentle as if he's scared a touch too harsh could kill you right here, right now.

"Is this what you wanted, Nessy?"

He asks knowingly. You extend your arm over his broad chest and rest your head against him, mumbling some sort of affirmation. You sigh contently before a question pops into your mind.

"Cayde?"

He hums curiously.

"What do you mean by Nessy?"

He chuckles.

"Well, you WERE stuck at the bottom of the ocean..."

Well, that didn't help.

"You DO know the pre-golden age myth, right?"

What? You think about the golden age and pre-golden age myths and tales you have read about and know... Ah! The Loch Ness Monster! You lie in silence.

"Are you call me a monster, Mr 6?"

He laughs with a scoff.

"I dunno, are you a monster?"

"... I don't think so."

"Welp! Then I'm not calling you a monster."

You snicker.

"You know you just... Made a nickname out of my trauma, right?"

He hums in acknowledgement.

"But dooooes that upset you?"

"Well, no but-"

"Then it's fine, Nessy."

You go to speak only to close your mouth. He's right you guess. Though you were curious of the 'Nessy' name, it's not quite the question you really wanted to ask. At least talking with him has distracted you from the pain. You feel anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as your face starts to get hot. He tilts his head down to look at you. You see him reach over, gripping the base of his glove and quickly removing it and putting the back of his hand to your forehead.

"Cayde?"

"You're kinda hot, Nessy. And your heart is beating pretty fast."

How does he know? Are you sick? Oh God, does he know what you want to ask him? Does he know that you're head over heels for the stupid hunter vanguard? No. You haven't told anyone that. Are exos psychic? No. That's not how they work. Is it? You don't know jack shit about exos so maybe it is! You can't help but over thinking a million different ways this could go within seconds. He tilts his head curiously as he gently strokes your cheek with his knuckles which snaps you from your thoughts.

"What are you thinking about, Ness?"

He asks quietly and genuinely. You stare for a moment before looking elsewhere, embarrassed.

"Uhm..."

Your voice cracks.

"I just uh... Why did you choose me of all guardians? There were so many people there and Ikora was there. Why... Why did you... Why me?"

He scoffs lightly before sighing, staring up at the stars above.

"I've had my eye on you for a while."

Your heart sinks.

"Why..?"

You ask in a voice that's barely a squeak.

"Cause Ikora wouldn't shut up about ya!"

He chuckles.

"Guardian this, my Warlock that! So, I had to see for myself. I may or may not have done recon on you a few times aaaaand I realised you uh... Well if Ikora liked you so much for so long then you'd be a good person to have on my fireteam... And so when I saw you, fireteamless, I uh... I took my chance."

You feel... Weird about his answer. It's an answer you were kind of expecting and yet... You can't help but feel some what hurt. Obviously not as hurt as you physically are but hurt none the less.

"Oh."

Is all you manage. He sighs.

"AAAAnd... I mean, I was gonna ask when we actually won the war and weren't in the wilds buuuut IIIII wanted to know if you wanted to get ramen. Your treat of course."

182 notes · View notes

ssfghfrrggf · 3 years

Text

Heavy is the Head Chapter 2: Let’s Go Find Our Lost Lovers

ao3 link

“Casey? Casey? Hey! Captain, wake up!”

Casey wakes up to Stella shaking him and shouting at him, only it doesn’t sound like she’s shouting everything is muffled by the ringing in his ears. But he can tell she’s yelling by the expression on her sooty face.

“I’m fine,” he grunts and sits up, his head spinning as he looks around the darkness around them trying to make out some familiar feature in the beam of his flashlight. Everything hurts like he’s been sent through the spin of a dryer, and his skin feels hot and sharp- like the unbearable shriveling hot it gets when a room is getting dangerously close to flashing over. “What the hell happened?”

“We almost roasted what happened,” Stella pants and wipes her face with the back of one gloved hand.

Casey nods and blinks his eyes a couple times. He remembers now. They’d been on the landing of the second sublevel when the fire had come through the door, Stella had tackled him out of the way and that’s the last thing he can picture clearly.

“The stairs came down on top of us,” she says, shining her flashlight up the stairs behind him to reveal what looks like a wall of cement blocking their way back up.

“The good news is, we made it to the third floor,” Casey says, directing his own light toward the number painted on the wall. They must’ve rolled down an entire flight of stairs; it definitely feels like they did. He’s bruised in places he didn’t know he had. “We can get to Severide and Brett now.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to happen Captain,” Stella breathes and shines her flashlight on the doorway. The door has been blown off its hinges and on the other side of it is a solid wall of debris.

“Damn it,” Casey spits and punches his fist into the hard ground; he barely even feels it. The more he thinks about Sylvie being stuck down here the more his chest tightens out of fear and panic. “We have to get to her.”

“Captain-”

He grabs up his halligan and hauls himself to his feet. There’s no telling if Severide got to her, for all Matt knows she’s trapped somewhere on the side of the slab of concrete blocking the doorway. A halligan is no sledge hammer, but he’s done more with much less. He starts his swing, but Stella jumps in front of him grabbing both his arm and the shaft of the bar.

“Woah there cowboy!” She says urgently and restless his arms down. “You can’t just go whacking away at stuff! I know you want to get to Brett, but you don’t know what that thing is supporting. You could cause a secondary collapse!”

“I have to find her!” Casey argues and tries to yank his tool free from Stella’s hands, but she tightens her grip.

“Casey. I know you want to find her! Trust me! Kelly’s out there somewhere in all this mess too! I want to find him just as badly as you want to find Brett, but we can’t just go blowing through debris. That blast probably brought this whole place down. We gotta use our heads, Captain!” Stella shouts and yanks the halligan out of his hands.

“But…” Casey starts to protest but gets hit with a sudden wave of dizziness and collapses back onto the hard ground, everything around him spinning.

“Captain!” Stella’s cry is distant and gets drown out by the ringing in his ears intensifying.

***

Gallo’s been his fair share of blazing infernos, but the heat wave that came off the parking garage as the gas ignited was like nothing he’s ever felt before. It was blistering…

Cruz grabs him and shouts something at him, but he can’t make out a word of, just a deafening ringing in his ears. The world is spinning around him and his eyes are stinging from the heat and the dusty smoke, but he can make out blood coming out of the squad firefighter’s ears, and he looks as dizzy and out of it as Blake feels.

“Cruz are you okay?” he shouts, or at least he hopes that’s what he shouted, as he grabs hold of Cruz’s arm and turns his gaze toward the parking structure that’s now more of a pile of rubble than anything else. It’s hard to make out much more than that through the smoke and dust.

The squad firefighter tugs at Blake’s arm to get his attention, and says something as he points at his ears, but Gallo can’t make out a word of it. Part of him just wants to pass out, everything hurts and his head is spinning.

“I can’t hear you!” Blake tries to tell him, and Cruz gives up on whatever he’s trying to say and grabs Gallo the shoulder strap of his air pack and hauls him to his feet. It’s not until he’s upright that he realizes just how bad his dizziness is, the only reason he doesn’t fall over is because Cruz keeps him upright as he tugs him back toward the relative safety of the trucks. As they stumble toward the trucks Mouch emerges from the dust to meet them.

***

“Are you two okay?” Mouch asks as he grabs onto both Cruz and Gallo. Neither of them look okay. Gallo looks like he’s about to fall over and they're both bleeding from their ears. He can also make out a couple burns on the firefighters.

“I think the explosion ruptured his ear drums,” Cruz pants, both of them nearly collapsing onto Mouch. “He can’t hear anything-

“Okay,” Mouch says, scanning both of them for further injuries. Gallo is definitely burned but nothing too bad. “Let’s get both of you to 61-”

“Mackey-” Cruz starts to ask, still talking a little louder than necessary. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if the squad firefighter also ruptured and ear drum.

“She’s fine!” Mouch promises and throws Gallo’s arm over his shoulder. The kid looks wholly confused.

“What’s happening?” he shouts, and the sound of the kids voice hollering in his ears makes his head hurt. He hadn’t been nearly as close to the explosion as Cruz or Gallo, but the blast still did it’s number on his head.

“Chief, I got Gallo and Cruz,” Mouch says clicking on his radio to let Boden know he found them. “There in one relative piece.”

“Any sign of Severide, Casey, Brett, or Kidd?” Boden replies, he sounds relieved that at least two out of the six MIA firefighters are safe.

“No sign of them, chief,” Mouch replies looking around the hazy air. The four of them had still been inside when the building went up in flames, so he’s not sure why he’s looking around hoping to see them. There’s a good chance he won’t see any of them ever again, not in one recognizable piece anyway.

***

Brett groans and tries to sit up but there’s something heavy laying on top of her; her head is pounding like nothing she’s ever felt before and she’s not entirely sure she’ll be able to keep herself awake- or even if she wants to try. Everything hurts and the weight bearing down on top of her isn’t helping; it’s not a solid weight like concrete or cement, it’s softer than that… like a body pinning her face first on the ground, but there are things poking her too. She blinks open her eyes and finds herself staring at a hand flopped a couple inches from her face. There’s a yellow reflective strip around the cuff of the thick black coat sleeve that the hand is coming out of.

“Casey?” she whines and tries to roll to get him off of her, but he’s too heavy. She doesn’t really remember much of anything after sending Mackey up to radio to help, but she’s pretty sure Casey was down here with her, after all it would be him to come get her.

“Casey, please,” she chokes desperately and tries again to wiggle herself free from the weight bearing down on top of her. It’s hard to breath and she’s not sure if it’s from dust and smoke or the body crushing her. She knows just from being around the station that anyone in full bunker gear could easily weigh well over 200 pounds, and if she didn’t believe it before, she definitely does now.

“Casey, wake up,” she gasps, her fear running deeper than just not being able to breathe or being crushed the firefighter laying on top of her. Casey isn’t saying anything or moving, and her mind leaps to the worst possible explanation for it all.

“Casey! Please!” she begs not really for herself anymore, she just wants him to be okay- to move or talk or just not be dead. She pushes at the ground trying to push his weight off her, but after a couple seconds of struggle she gives up and lets her forehead flop against the rough dirty floor. She has to get out from under him, not so much for herself, but for him. He needs her help. Sucking in a deep breath, Sylvie digs deep and mustering what’s left of her dying strength she uses her legs and arms to push herself onto her side and tip Casey’s dead weight off of her. There’s a heavy thunk as his air tank hits the ground. It’s only as she claws herself upright that she realizes it wasn’t Casey laying on top of her at all. It was Severide.

“Severide?” she chokes and leans over the downed squad lieutenant. She can’t tell if he’s breathing through all of his gear, but it doesn’t look like he is. “Severide, stay with me buddy.”

She presses her fingers against his neck in search of a pulse, he flinches as he hand makes contact with his hot skin.

“Brett?” he groans and blinks his eyes open as he attempts to lift his head off the floor.

“Yeah, it’s me, but take it easy.” It’s hard to tell in nothing but the dim light of his flash light, but she’s pretty sure he has first and possibly second degree burns on the back of his neck. There’s also a deep cut on the side of his ear going from above one eyebrow to the top of his ear. And it’s oozing a significant amount of blood, nothing life threatening at the moment, but it’s also not good.

“I’m fine,” Kelly grunts and pushes her hand away from him as sits up and unbuckles the straps on his air tank.

“You don’t look fine,” Sylvie observes skeptically, but she’s too tired and her head hurts too much to put much effort into her argument. “You got a nasty cut on your head.”

He frowns and gingerly pokes at the side of his bloody head. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Severide can you please just let me look at it?” Sylvie requests. He’s probably a long ways off from passing out of blood loss but it’s better safe than sorry since they appear to be trapped and he’s the one who knows how to get them out.

He sighs and rolling his eyes hands her a flashlight so she can examine his injury better.

“We’re still in the elevator,” he comments as she scoots closer to him.

“We’re in the elevator?” she asks and looks at him in shock. She hadn’t really taken much time to examine her surroundings, but now that he says it… “What happened to the two victims?”

Severide ducks her gaze with a guilty expression. “They were still out there when the explosion happened.”

“You left them!?” Sylvie chokes in a mix of shock and anger. “Sev-”

“It wasn’t like that Brett,” Severide snaps interrupting. “I was the only one down here and the only way I was getting all three up was to put you guys on the elevator. I moved you first because you were the only one who didn’t have air. Then the gas blew.”

Sylvie sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose trying to stave off the pounding in her head; she feels bad for jumping down Kelly’s throat. She should’ve known he wouldn’t leave two victim’s on purpose- really she did know it. Everything is just so scrambled right now and her head feels like it’s going to explode.

“Sylvie, are you okay?” Severide asks with gentle concern and gives her shoulder a little reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m fine-”

“Lying to each other isn’t going to work, Brett,” he prompts.

“Fine, my head hurts and I feel like I just got crushed by 250 pounds of firefighter,” she says teasingly. She knows Kelly did what he had to, to protect her from the explosion and she’s grateful for it even if she still feels like a pancake.

Severide snorts and shakes his head. “I wasn’t about to let one of my paramedics get baked. Besides Casey would probably kill me if something happened to you.”

“And Stella’ll kill me if I let you bleed out from that head wound,” Sylvie replies and pulls out her pocket knife so she can cut off the long sleeves of her shirt. They’re not the ideal bandaging, but nothing about their situation is ideal and all her supplies are lost somewhere outside the elevator so her sleeves will have to work for now.

***

“You two need to take the next available ambulance to hospital,” Boden says, taking a second to divert his attention from the scene to Cruz and Gallo.

“No way, chief,” Cruz says standing up indignantly, his lieutenant and friends- members of his family are still down there beneath the rubble, and he’s not going anywhere until he knows they’re safe regardless of the pounding in his head and how muffled everything but the ringing in his ears is. Gallo doesn’t say anything to back him, just glances between the two of them looking really confused, and still dazed; Ritter taps him on the shoulder and shows him his phone screen, evidently typing out the conversation because after a second he looks up defiantly at Boden.

“I’m not going anywhere either!” He says a lot louder than he needs to.

“You’re both going to the hospital to get checked out, that’s an order!” Boden shouts, with a kind of foracicity that’s rare for him. “I don’t want to hear any more argument about it! Go with 57.”

“Yes chief,” Cruz mumbles and dips his head submissively before grabbing Gallo by the arm and pulling him up off the back bumper of 61. The truckie tries to pull back, but Cruz tightens his grip and tugs him along. He’s tempted to sneak off and help in the search behind Boden’s back, but if he does that Gallo will follow, and there’s no disputing that he needs to take a trip to the hospital to get his ears checked out.

They haven’t made it far before Gallo gets stumbly like he’s dizzy.

“Hey buddy, we’ll take it slow,” Cruz says comfortingly despite knowing the young firefighter can’t hear him, and puts one of Gallo’s arms over his shoulder to support him.

“Is my hearing going to come back?” Gallo asks, in a loud whisper.

Cruz looks him in the eyes and nods. He’s not really sure if it’s true, he hopes it is. He’d never admit out loud, but Gallo’s a damn good firefighter and a good kid with a bright future in the cfd ahead of him. It’d be awful if hearing loss got him booted. He wishes he could give Gallo more assurance than just the head because he doesn’t look convinced, but any words Cruz tries to say to him will be lost. He gives Gallo another nod yes, and then continues helping him toward the waiting ambulance.

***

“Damn it,” Stella hisses and throws down her halligan, it clatters loudly on the landing of the fifth sublevel, and Casey lifts his head from where he had it rested between his knees to squint at her.

“Should I repeat the speech you gave me?” he says dully, trying and failing to poke fun at her.

“No,” she replies in frustration and sinks to the dirty ground, leaning against the metal door blocked shut by debris.

“What’s eating you, Kidd?” Casey asks, leaning his head against the railing of the stairs.

“I didn’t tell him,” she says, tipping her head back against the cool door.

“Didn’t tell him what?” Casey questions lifting his head up to look at her better.

“My promotion came through and I didn’t Kelly. Which is kinda hypocritical, isn’t it? I’m always trying to get him to tell me stuff, and now I’m doing the same thing he used to do,” she replies sighing heavily. “And now we’re stuck down here, and he’s stuck down here and it’s all so messed up…”

“Your promotion came through?” Casey breathes, like he barely believes it. “Stella that’s great, you can tell Sev when we get out of here. He’ll be thrilled.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it,” Stella interrupts him and closes her eyes bracing herself for whatever speech her captain is about to give her. Gallo had a good point this morning. If she doesn’t want to be talked into taking it than that more than likely means she doesn’t want it, and shouldn’t take it.

“You don’t want to leave 51,” Casey says understandingly and rests his chin on his knees. He looks too tired for much speech giving.

“Yeah,” Stella says. 51 has become her family and she can’t even properly process the idea of not working there anymore.

“You haven’t told Sev because you don’t want him to talk into taking it,” Casey adds with a sigh.

“It’s stupid, right? I’ve worked so hard for this and now suddenly I’m thinking about turning it down,” she says in frustration.

“I don’t know, family’s family, Stella. But whatever you want, Kelly will back you. I know that much.”

“I was gonna tell him, you know? We just got this call before I could…”

“He’ll get it,” Casey mumbles and closes his eyes.

“Hey, how’s your head feeling?” Stella asks sitting up straight and examining Casey from where she’s sitting.

“Awful,” Casey mutters.

“We should keep moving,” Stella says. He seems to be getting more drowsy and they should keep moving so he doesn’t have the chance to sleep.

“In a couple minutes.”

“Now captain,” Stella insists and grabbing up her halligan she stands up. She offers Casey her hand. “Come on. Let’s go find our lost lovers.”

Casey cracks a dazed smile and takes her hand.

***

“Looks like we dropped,” Sylvie says, peeking out the hatch in the top of the elevator and scanning the shaft with Severide’s flashlight as she stands on his shoulders. The only number she can see is a six a couple feet above them which means they dropped three floors.

“What’s the closest floor?” Severide grunts through gritted teeth. Holding her up is probably more of a struggle than he’ll admit outloud.

“Six,” Sylvie reports. She can see the doors a couple feet above them.

“How high up is it?” Severide asks.

“Five or six feet,” she calls back.

“That’s doable,” he mumbles to himself like he’s calculating something in his head. “I’m bringing you back down.”

“I’m going to need a knee up from you,” Severide says as soon as Sylvie has her two feet back down on the elevator floor.

“You realize how crazy that sounds, right?” Sylvie asks, not entirely convinced he’s serious.

“Yeah, but I need to get up there,” Severide replies. “Well we both do. But I can’t reach that high without a boost and you can’t pull me up if I send you up first.”

“But you can pull me up,” Sylvie finishes for him. In theory it makes sense, but she’s not entirely sure she’s physically capable of hoisting him up.

“I don’t need much of a boost,” Severide says, eyeing the ceiling. For a guy who has the side of his head sliced open he’s very lively. “Just a push off your knee and then I should be able to reach and pull myself up.”

Sylvie’s not entirely convinced he can make it, but it’s their only option so they have to try.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure Brett,” Severide says encouragingly and gives her a little pat on the shoulder.

“How’s your head feeling?” Even in the dim light of the elevator she can make fresh blood dripping down the side of his face from under the makeshift bandage wrapped around his head.

“It’ll be fine,” Severide replies with a nonchalant shrug. “We’ll worry about it once we’re out of this elevator shaft, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agrees and getting down so she’s on one knee directly under the roof hatch. “Then let’s hurry up and get out of here.”

“You ready?”

“Ready,” Sylvie says, and grits her teeth as he puts his boot on her knee and pushes off. His weight is only there for a second and then he’s hanging in the air from the hole in the ceiling, he’s only there for a second before he pulls and wiggles his way up through the hole and disappears.

“Alright, hand me up my halligan,” he says poking his head back through the hole and reaching down to her with one arm. She picks up the heavy metal glorified crow bar and hands it up to him.

“Now it’s your turn.”

She reaches up with her hands and jumps, grabbing Severide’s hands before she falls back down, as she does the whole elevator groans and shifts like it’s about to fall.

“Severide…” Sylvie chokes questioningly, looking up into his face as he starts to pull her up.

“It’s fine, Brett,” he grunts, hauling her up through the hatch. “The elevator’s not going anywhere.”

“You seem pretty sure about that,” she pants as she flops down on the roof of the elevator roof next to Severide.

“As long as we get out of here quickly, we’ll be fine,” he says standing up and studying the door to the shaft next a couple feet above them.

“What if it falls?” she asks, unsure about the stability of the structure they’re standing on.

“We’ll be out of here before that happens,” he promises, but it sounds a little like he’s trying to convince more than just her. “I just gotta get that door open, which shouldn’t be too difficult.”

***

“Got it,” Severide says triumphantly and pushes his halligan down between the doors of the elevator to stop them from closing again. He knows this elevator predicament isn’t even half the struggle they have ahead of them, they still have six stories worth of rubble they have to make their way up, but he lets himself revel in the small victory a little.

Brett gives him a congratulatory pat on the back and a weak smile; he’s pretty sure she’s hurting more than she’s letting on which makes two of them. His head hurts and the burns under his coat are hurting a little more with each passing minute, but he’s gotta keep it together and get them out of this mess.

“Ladies first,” he says and intertwines his hands to make a step for the paramedic to give her a little boost up. She probably doesn’t really need it, but it’ll help her out and make it easier on her.

“Thanks Kelly,” she replies and steps into his hands and clammers through the elevator doors as he gives her a little push. Kelly pulls himself up after her and pulls the halligan free from the doors as he clears the door frame.

The air is thick and hazy with smoke and he can see the red flicker of fire coming from a couple places around them.

“How are we going to get out of this?” Sylvie breathes hopeless and glances over at him with scared blue eyes.

“One step at a time, Sylvie,” Kelly replies and tucks one arm around her shoulders to pull her into a reassuring hug. “We got this, okay? It’ll be a walk in the park.”

Brett lets out an amused snort and shakes her head, but doesn’t look encouraged.

“Come on, you were a farm kid. It’ll be like climbing around in a hay loft,” Kelly adds, trying to encourage her. “It’ll be fun.”

This time he gets a real smile out of her.

“See? You just gotta think of it as something less scary than it actually is. It won’t get in your head that way.”

“Do you realize how long it’s been since I climbed in a hay loft?” she asks.

“Isn’t that one of those things they say is like riding a bike?” Severide jokes.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Brett says through gritted teeth and puts on her determined face.

“Here, put this on,” Kelly says and plops his helmet down on top of Brett’s head. It’s a too big and falls over her face.

She pushes it back up with a grin on her face. “Does this make me a member of the squad?”

“An honorary one, sure,” Kelly says and adjusts the interior head band on the helmet so it will stay put on her head. “And put these on,” he adds, handing her his gloves. “There’s all kinds of stuff laying around you don’t need to be cutting your hands on.”

His gloves are absolutely too big for her, but there’s no adjusting them so they’ll have to do.

“Okay, let’s get out of this hell hole,” Sylvie says, slipping her hands into his gloves.

***

“Maybe there’s a way we could keep you at 51,” Casey says as they make their way further down the stairs. They’re almost to the sixth sublevel now and he’s not entirely sure he’s going to have the energy to climb back up through all the rubble when they finally figure a way out of the staircase. His head is pounding and the edges of his vision are getting blurry; on top of that his whole body is aching from the tumble down the stairs he and Stella took. He’s sure she’s hurting too, but she seems to be keeping it under wraps better than he is.

“If you’re suggesting I try to talk Herrmann into retiring, you hit your head harder than I thought you did,” Stella replies glancing over at him.

“That’s not what I was suggesting. I was just saying there might be someway, because believe me, nobody wants you to go anywhere, but you also shouldn’t pass up this amazing opportunity.”

“It’s a nice thought, but I don’t really see a way for me to stay and get my promotion,” she says as they both come to a stop on the landing of sixth sublevel.

“Frame’s bent,” Casey points out after briefly scanning the door.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing on the other side blocking it,” Stella says peaking through the window. “We might be able to bust it open.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Casey adjusts the grip on his halligan. Everything hurts and he’s sure that if not for the adrenaline pumping through his body and his need to find Brett he’d be passed out by now. They have to get through the door and they have to get back up to the third floor.

“Am I being a complete idiot for thinking about turning this promotion down?” Stella asks and slams her shoulder into the door in an attempt to bust it open.

“I don’t know, Kidd,” Casey says and moves to stand next to her so he can help try to force the door free. He doesn’t want Stella to transfer out, her loves her like family and 51 wouldn’t be the same without her. But it’s not his place to tell her that. Sometimes people just have to spread their wings and fly, and he doesn’t want to hinder that by telling her his feelings. “I guess, the way I see it is, are you going to regret it if you don’t take it.”

“You ready?”

“Ready.”

They both hit the door at the sametime and Casey can feel it give a little. He can also feel the jar sent up through his body that makes his vision go blurry for a second until he blinks his eyes clear again.

“I don’t know is the thing,” she says through gritted teeth and hits the door with the head of her halligan.

“You could always take it, and then when a position opens up at 51 transfer back,” Casey suggests. “Ready?”

“Ready,” They hit the door again and this time it screeches a little as it gives a little more. “I guess I could do that.”

“And it’s not like you’ll leave and never see us again.”

“It’ll just be weird being away from you guys is all.”

“Personally, making the switch to leader would probably be easier when you don’t know the crew. People don’t try to pull the friend card to get away with stuff. Like when I first made the switch to lieutenant me and Sev’s old buddy Darden was the worst about that kind of thing,” Casey says. Andy has always been a bit of a piece of work; he was a goof and one hell of a firefighter but he always had that little bit of bull headed defiance where he’d dive into any situation head first without much of a second thought. He was never unmanageable though, he just never quite got used to the idea of taking orders from his best friend and in the end it got him killed. Matt’s always wondered if it was someone else up on that ladder with Andy giving orders if he’d still be alive. “Besides, finding a new crew could be fun.”

Stella looks him in the eyes, but doesn’t say a word as she slams her foot into the door and forces it open. “Let’s go find Sylvie and Kelly.”

***

“I need a breather,” Sylvie huffs as Kelly helps her scramble up a leaned over pillar of concrete creating a kind of ramp to the next level of the parking garage. She doesn’t really need a breather, but she can tell he does and there’s no way he’s actually going to take one for himself. She wants to get out of this smokey and dusty air making her lungs burn and her chest tight, and she wants to stop feeling so trapped, but Severide needs a rest and the only way to get him to take one is for her to say she needs one.

“We can’t rest long, we gotta get out of this smoke,” he says, shining his flashlight around them. “And we’ve still got a good three or four stories to go.”

“I know, I just need a minute.”

“Hey, you’re doing great. At this rate we’ll be up and out in no time,” Severide promises and gives her a little pat on the shoulder.

“How's your head feeling?” she asks, from what she can tell there’s no fresh blood dripping down the side of the lieutenant’s head anymore, it’s all dry and crusty now.

“It’s still fine, Brett,” he replies.

“And you wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t,” Sylvie says flattly.

“Bingo,” Severide chuckles with a playful wink. “You ready to get going again?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighs. It’s probably best they hurry up and get out of here and get him up to the surface, then Stella can yell at him to take care of himself. Sylvie doesn’t have the energy right now.

They’re about to pick up and start moving again when Severide’s radio crackles and Casey’s voice sounds over it. ‘Does anyone copy’ is the only thing Sylvie gets from his transmission through all the static and popping, but he sounds exhausted and even a little scared.

“This is Severide, Casey I copy,” Severide says, clicking on his mic. “Casey can you hear me?”

“Sev-” is all they get in response before the radio cuts out again.

“Casey, we are on the 4th sublevel. I have Brett. Do you copy?” Severide says loudly.

“Below… stay put…”

“Case, repeat that,” Severide says looking to Brett in confusion. They get no reply. “Casey, do you copy?”’

There’s still nothing but static as they wait in silence for Casey to repeat himself.

“Damn concrete,” Severide spits angrily and slaps the ground. “Casey do you copy?”

“What did he mean ‘stay put’?” Brett asks, looking around them. They have to get out of here, staying put isn’t an option.

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if that’s what he said,” Severide replies in frustration. “We gotta get out of here.”

“But what if he did say to stay where we are? There could be a fire above us or something.”

She wants to get out of here, probably more than Severide does, but if Casey told them to stay where they are, he probably has a good reason.

“I’m not sitting around down here on my ass, Brett. We need to get out of here, and you need to get your lungs checked out because of all that gas you inhaled,” Severide says. “Now let’s get out of here.”

Sylvie decides not to argue with the squad lieutenant and follows him as he heads off into the darkness without another word.

***

“I’m sick of trying to get this damn thing to work,” Stella says and shoves her radio back into her radio pocket.

“Kidd, take a breath,” Casey says quietly and sits down on a piece of debris. His head is spinning and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to hold out. He hadn’t been able to make out much of what Severide said, but he got the part about him having Brett which means she’s safe. There’s no one better and more likely to get her out of this than Kelly.

Stella shakes her head and cups her hands around her mouth. “KELLY!”

“Kidd! Enough!” Casey snaps, her shout is the last straw. He can’t take it anymore; he feels like his head is about to explode. “He’s fine. Him and Brett will get out of here on their own. We just have to find our own way out. Okay? So please, quit yelling.”

Stella stops and her expression softens. “Casey, you don’t look so good.”

“I’ll be fine if you just take it down a notch,” Casey replies softly. He’s not sure if that’s true. He’s exhausted and now that he knows Brett is safe with Severide he’s not sure if he can still find the same drive to climb his way out of here.

***

“Joe!”

Joe flinches a little at the sound of his wife’s shrill worried cry as she comes through the doors of the hospital, eyes wide and scared.

“Chloe!” He calls and stands up to greet her.

“Joe, are you okay? I saw the collapse on the news and then the hospital called-”

“I’m fine,” he promises, interrupting her and wraps his wife in his arms. “I ruptured one of my ear drums, but other than that I’m fine.”

“You did what?!”

“It’s okay, the doctor said it’ll heal in a week or so. I’m okay, Chloe.”

“You promise?” she says and cups his cheeks in her soft hands.

“Yes,” Joe replies softly and grabs one of his wife’s small hands. “I promise

“Well you look like a mess,” she says scoldingly and brushes off the top of his head. She’s starting to relax a little. “What happened?”

“It was a gas leak, something sparked it and the whole place came down.”

“Is everyone okay?”

Cruz ducks his head. When he left Casey, Kidd, Severide, and Brett were all still down there and unaccounted for. He should’ve never let Severide keep going by himself.

“Oh baby…” Chloe breathes.

“Casey, Kidd, Severide and Brett were still missing when I left,” he mumbles, and keeps his gaze on the floor. He can’t lose any of them; he won’t be able to take it.

“Come here,” Chloe whispers and pulls him close to her, tucking his head into her shoulder. “They’re all tough, they’ll be okay. They’ll be okay.”

***

“Is there any word from the hospital on Gallo?” Ritter asks, taking a second to stop and talk to Boden. He knows the chief is very busy, but he at least has to try to get an update on his friend’s condition. He’d walked to the ambo himself, which is a good sign, but he looked like he’d been struggling.

“Yes, he’s going to be fine,” Boden says before returning his attention back to the radio and three in coming truck companies. Ritter turns away and leaves the chief to his business, that’s all he needed to hear, just a simple yes.

“Hey, Ritter, get over here!” Herrmann calls and waves him over to 51. “Grab a hose bundle. We’re heading to the delta side to help engine 18 knock down some flare ups they have over there.”

“You got it,” Gallo says and pulls a bundle off the engine. “Do you know what the word is on Captain Casey and them?”

“Yeah, squad 6 is coming to assist. Capp and Tony are planning on saddling up and going down with them,” Herrmann says, pulling his own pack of the truck. “Don’t worry about them. They’re nothin’ but a group of stubborn bastards. They’ll be fine.”

From the look of things Ritter isn’t so sure about that, but his lieutenant seems pretty sure of himself and not worried, so the best Darren can do is trust him. There’s not time to worry right now.

***

“I need a breather,” Sylvie pants and flops down on the hard ground. This time she needs it for herself. It feels like they’ve been going for hours, and the going has been slow and hard. She’s exhausted and everything hurts.

“Okay, take your time,” Severide replies and sits down next to her. He seems relieved that she’s asking for a break. “I’m going to try to get Casey on the radio again.”

“Okay,” she mumbles without picking herself up. She wishes Severide could just carry her the rest of the way out. They have at least two more floors to climb and then navigate their way out of whatever rubble is sitting on the surface.

“This is Severide, does anyone copy?” Kelly says, keying his radio.

“I read you Sev,” Comes a response from Casey. There’s a little static and interference, but for the most part the Captain’s transmission comes through loud and clear. Sylvie lets out a sigh of relief, it’s good to hear his voice again; he sounds exhausted, but he’s okay. “What floor are you on?”

“Probably two, but I’m not exactly sure.” Severide sounds so relieved. “Are you sending people down to find us?”

“Negative, me and Kidd are a floor below you. We can’t get contact with the surface.”

“What the hell are you doing below us?” Severide demands, losing his calm at the mention of Stella.

“We came to get you,” Casey replies. “Stay where you are so Kidd and I can catch up, and activate your pass.”

Severide lets out a frustrated sigh before replying to his friend. “Copy that Captain.”

***

Stella hears Kelly’s pass device long before she sees him, but when she finally gets eyes on him it’s like seeing him for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s banged up and looks exhausted, but he’s okay. He’s okay.

“I was so scared,” she breathes as they meet in the darkness of the parking garage.

“I know,” he whispers and wraps his arms around her. “I’m okay.”

“No more building collapses,” Stella says, resting her chin on Severide’s shoulder. It’s so good to have him back.

“I wish I had a say in the matter,” Kelly replies and pulls away from her. “Now we just need to get out of here.”

They both glance over at Casey and Brett who are still celebrating being reunited with a passionate kiss.

“Hey, love birds, we should probably get going,” Severide calls and throws a pebble at Casey’s head. Casey holds up his middle finger, and doesn’t stop kissing Brett. Stella can’t help but laugh at the shocked look that comes across Kelly’s face at being flipped off by Matt. For the first time since this whole mess started she doesn’t feel completely on edge. “I can’t believe you guys actually came down to get us.”

“We were heading down when the place went up,” Stella explains. “We knew there was no way you were getting three victims up by yourself.”

“You guys are crazy,” Kelly says shaking his head.

“That’s what love does to you,” Stella replies and gives him a quick kiss on the lip.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Casey says, finally breaking away from Brett. “Let’s get the hell out of this hellhole.”

***

“Have you heard any word from squad 6?” Ritter asks Mouch as he helps him set up the scene lights on 81; the sun is setting fast and they don’t long to get the lights on. It’s been well over an hour since the members of squad six and squad three went into the collapsed parking garage to look for the four missing firefighters from 51.

“Not as far as I’ve heard,” he replies glancing over his shoulder at the smoking mountain of rubble. “Radio contact is gonna be rough, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t hear anything until they come out.”

“How are you and Herrmann so calm about this?” Ritter finally asks as Mouch fires up the generator.

“We’ve been around a long time, kiddo,” Mouch replies and hooks his thumbs into his suspenders with satisfaction as the scene lights click on, lighting up the darkening air around them. “But don’t mistake our calm for not caring. It’s killing us not knowing as much as it’s killing you.”

“Hey! We’ve got movement near the entrance!” Herrmann shouts as he runs past Mouch and Ritter. Darren can hear the excitement in his lieutenant’s voice. “And chief’s got squad six on the radio! They’ve got our people!”

Ritter looks to Much half a second and then follows after his lieutenant; he can hear Mouch running after him. By the time they reach what used to be the entrance of the parking garage the members of squad six are already emerging from the rubble, Severide, Casey, Kidd, and Brett with them.

“Come’er you idiots,” Herrmann says lovingly and somehow manages to grab all four of them in the same hug. Darren joins them, relieved to see all four of them okay and in one relative piece; when Mouch catches up he joins in the hug. Herrmann is the first one to break from the group hug and shoos Mouch and Darren back a little. “Let’s get you guys to an ambulance.”

***

“Hey, you escaped the scene,” Casey says as Boden knocks on the door to his hospital room. Dr. Halstead had checked him for a concussion, which apparently does have, and then insisted he spend the night for observation. His head still hurts, but the fluids they have him are helping a little.

“The district chief took over the scene, and told me to come be with my people,” Boden replies, closing the door behind him.

“I may have gotten my bell rung pretty good, but I haven’t forgotten about our conversation this morning,” Casey says, holding his chief’s gaze. The man laughs nervously and nods his head.

“I didn’t think you would,” he says, a mix of amusement and sadness coming across his face.

“Come on chief, what’s eating you?” Casey presses.

“There’s a chief’s exam coming up in a couple months and I want you to take it,” Boden replies.

“And leave 51?” Casey asks. Being completely honest he thought it was a little crazy that Stella wanted to turn down her promotion to stay at 51, he understood it. It just seemed wrong, but now that he might be facing the exact same decision he’s pretty sure he’s about to do the same.

“No,” Boden replies calmly. “And take over 51.”

“What?”

“I’m not as young as I once was,” Boden says. “And I’m not getting any younger. I’m ready to retire, but I want to leave the house in good hands, and I know you’ll take care of it.”

Casey doesn’t even know what to say.

***

“Oh that’s gonna scar,” Stella says, slipping into Kelly’s exame room as April finishes giving him stitches. She didn’t really realize how big the cut in the side of his head was until now.

“Shut up,” he says flatley.

“No, it’s a clean cut, and I’m great at making my stitches pretty and neat,” April says, and starts wrapping his head. “You don’t have to worry about your pretty face.”

“I think it’d be hot,” Stella says with a shrug and plops herself down on the exam table next to him as the nurse finishes up.

“Dr. Choi wants to keep you overnight for observation. I’ll come back and get you when we have a room for you,” April says, getting ready to duck out of the room.

“Thanks April!” Kelly calls after as she closes the curtain behind her. “You were kidding about it scaring, right?”

“Your hair will cover most of it up,” Stella says lovingly and kisses him on the cheek.

“Hey, what’d you want to talk about earlier?” he asks, looking over at her.

“Oh.” She wasn’t really expecting to tell him about the promotion just yet, but she’s not going to lie to him, and she does need to tell him. “I got offered a lieutenant’s position at another house.”

Kelly raises both eyebrows in a mix of excitement and surprise. “Stella-”

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it,” she blurts, interrupting him.

“Of course you are! You worked so hard for this, and if you turn it down they’ll bump you to the bottom of the list,” Kelly says, looking more confused now.

“Kelly, I don’t want to leave 51. It’s my home, my family.”

The confusion leaves his face and he closes his mouth.

“And I haven’t made up my mind yet either.”

“Stella Kidd,” Kelly starts, and takes her hand in his. “You are the most deserving person in the world of this promotion, and I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. And whatever you decide I will still be proud of you.”

Stella smiles at him, and for the first time since getting that letter her insides don’t feel like they’re twisted up in nights. “Thank you Kelly.”

***

Two days later…

“Case that’s huge,” Kelly says, taking his cigar out of his mouth, Benny and Grissom had always wanted him to shoot for chief, but it was never something Kelly wanted or even something he could see himself doing. Casey on the other hand, Casey was born to be chief; he’s got the head for it and that little bone in him that can play politics. Kelly’s definitely with Boden, the best person to take over the house is Casey. “What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Casey says staring out into space. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You’ve gotta take it. You were born for the job, and there’s no one better out there to take over the house. You know how things work there,” Severide replies. “Tell me you haven’t ever thought about it?”

“I mean yeah, I’ve thought about it, but not in a way like it’s a reality,” Matt says and takes a puff of his cigar.

“Have you talked to Brett about it?” Kelly asks.

“Yeah, she thinks I should take it too.”

“She’s a wise woman, that one,” Kelly laughs

Casey sighs. “I kind of have to do this, don’t I?”

“Only a crazy person’d turn it down,” Kelly jokes and nudges his friend with his elbow. Having Casey as a chief would change things drastically, not just for the two of them, but for the whole house, but it’s better than having an outsider come in.

“Then maybe I will,” Casey snorts. “You seem to think I’m pretty crazy.”

“Case, I’m serious. You’d be a great chief, and do you really want someone coming in and taking over the house? Boden built the house to what it is today, and I think he always had one of us leading it some day as his end goal. We both know that was always gonna be you. He trusts you with everything he has worked to build,” Severide says firmly. “At least consider it, and consider what will happen if you don’t take his offer.”

Casey turns his gaze away from Kelly and stares out into the distance, deep in thought as he puts his cigar back in his mouth.

“And I’ll back you all the way,” Kelly adds.

***

“Chief, you have a second?” Boden looks up to see Casey poking his head into his office.

“Of course,” Wallace replies and stands up to greet the truck captain. He knows the chief pitch was a lot to throw at him, but he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have absolutely faith in Casey’s ability to lead the house. There’s not a single better person he can think of to do it. Ever since Matt Casey was a probie Wallace had a feeling he’d one day grow to take his job.

“I’ve decided,” Casey says holding his gaze, the captain looks a little like he’s about to jump off a bridge. “I’m going to throw my hat in the ring for battalion chief.”

#chicago fire #chicago fire fic #cf fic #stellaride #brettsey #Stellaride fic #brettsey fic

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raleighjenkins · 3 years

Text

I saw [RALEIGH JENKINS] at a coffee shop in [QUEENS] today. I forgot how much [HE] looks like [JONATHAN MAJORS]. They are a [THIRTY] year old [MUSICIAN] who’s been in NYC for [THIRTY YEARS] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [RESPECTFUL & FEARLESS] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [ALOOF & MYSTERIOUS]. [ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST BY QUEEN] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio.

trigger warning: death

full name: raleigh jenkins known as: r, lee, raleigh, jenks age: thirty years old birthday: 24th february 1991 zodiac sign: pisces sexuality: heterosexual gender: cis male occupation: musician

dig a little deeper…

hometown: new york city family: mother (deceased), father, three older sisters, aunt & uncle. height: 6′3 appearance: tall, athletic, muscular build, short black hair and brown eyes, a scar on his arm from playing football at school, tattoo on his left pec. personality: + respectful, fearless, loyal, passionate, intelligent - aloof, quiet, mysterious, impulsive, grumpy

his story…

trigger warning: death during pregnancy

new york city has been home for raleigh all his life. his start wasn’t an easy one. after giving birth to three healthy girls, his mother lost her life when giving birth to him. it was a complete shock and came out of nowhere to the family - there were no warning signs that her health could come in to any trouble. there were complications with the labour and raleigh was lucky to survive.

raleigh’s dad stepped up, with three young daughters to take care of and a newborn baby, he had a lot on his plate. this was where help swooped in. his mother’s sister and her husband were quick to offer help. having no children of their own and knowing they could take some of the strain away from raleigh’s father, they did all they could. being raised by so many amazing people had its perks. despite the fact their childhood was missing their mother, the kids never went without anything.

having three older sisters, however, did not have it’s perks, and while raleigh was a little runt, they would pick on him mercilessly. sometimes things became very nasty and they’d blame him for the fact their mother was no longer there - empty words said by children who don’t understand the deeper meaning, but they hurt him all the same. things didn’t exactly improve into his teenage years, but it was then he learned to just ignore them. that made them angrier than anything else he could do.

raleigh’s relationship with his dad went from strength to strength as he grew up. they have similar personalities and outlooks on life. music was never really a huge part of growing up for him, but raleigh found that he had a natural talent for it. he liked being good at things, so he picked up the guitar, piano and drums. music made sense to him in a way that other things didn’t, so it was only logical that he began to dedicate more and more time to it.

by the age of twenty he was gigging, mainly playing covers of old songs he loved in clubs where people his dad’s age would hang out. not exactly cool, but it made him some money. the more he played, the more he was noticed, and he was asked by one bar owner if he wrote any of his own stuff. he’d tried this and that in the past, but hadn’t ever thought seriously about any of it. maybe it was worth a try?

ten years later and he’s performing in bars with a slightly cooler clientele. writing his own stuff was a good idea - people didn’t want to hear the same tired covers over and over again. he’s starting to find his own voice, although he couldn’t tell you what it is yet. the one person he can always count on to be at every gig is his dad. his number one fan through and through, and it means the world to raleigh that he’s always shown up, although he has trouble vocalising such deep emotions.

wanted connections…

friends - raleigh is definitely the strong, silent type, so he doesn’t have a huge circle of friends. it’d be cool to plot out some childhood friends maybe? he’s lived in nyc all his life so that would be nice. also, anyone who’s pestered their way into his life because he’s a little quiet and grumpy. or maybe just someone who shares similar interests to him? he doesn’t shun friendship, he’s just not very forthcoming about it.

romantic - again, not that he shuns romantic connections, but he’s not very forthcoming about his feelings. v likely that he’ll act nonchalant about it rather than speaking his mind. and he probably is v nonchalant about it because he’s such a laid-back guy. sometimes it’s perceived as him not caring, which might not be that case, but this can obviously rub some people up the wrong way. he’s not very good at reading signals either lmao. you’ve rlly gotta be straight with him.

familial - i’d love to see any of his three sisters, or his dad, aunt or uncle! there’s friction with his siblings, but a lot of love for the rest of his family, so that’d be some interesting dynamics to play with.

other musicians - anyone who plays in the city or has a passion for music, this could definitely be a connection with him. he’s more of a soft, acoustic sort of guy, again v chilled and laid-back lmaooo.

also up for other connections like roommates, anyone who’s hired him to play for any kind of event, neighbours, casual acquaintances, whatever else you can think of!

LIST OF UP TO DATE CONNECTIONS IS HERE

feel free to im or msg me if any of these connections sound interesting to you! 🤩

#abt.

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

Text

A Chance for Faith Ch. 9 What’s Your Name Agian?

Alrighty here’s some Chance for you all! Fairly short of a chapter really but its something and what more can be asked of my brain. Can be read below the cut or on Ao3

There’s a moment, a small moment where the grogginess meets the chill of the night air, and for just that moment Chance is hopeful. What a terrible dream, he thinks, how much did he end up drinking that night to warrant that kind of punishment. He probably hot boxed with some buddies as they left a bar to have an after party somewhere else. Last time I get cross-faded for a while. He just needed to open his eyes, maybe he’d find himself on the front lawn again. He could find that everything that had happened was nothing more than a dream he’s more than willing to forget.

But it's only for a moment.

His brain speeds up, processing quickly what’s happening. This wasn’t a dream, this was real, and he had the aching pain in his thigh to prove it. A pinch in his wrists as he moved to try and stand back up, the voices deep over him. “This one?” One asks, his face too blurry, not that it would make much difference it's too dark to make out any significant features. There must have been some response he didn’t pay attention to as the man comes closer, Chance just slightly able to make out the matted pieces in his scraggly dark hair, “You sure? Don’t seem very worthy.”

Chance groans as the man bends down to grab his upper arms, “Pretty sure that’s cultural appropriation.”

“Wha’?”

“Your hair,” Chance repeated, his vision becoming blurry, “Jus’ thought you should know.”

“You sure we have to take him to the cleansing?”

This time Chance could hear the second voice, “It's the will of the Father, “deeper, more calming, almost like Jerome’s, “and we are not to question him.” While unsteady Chance could feel his legs beneath him in an upright position, hands gripping him tightly, “Come let’s bring him unto the waters.”

He blinked, that’s all he did, right? No, he passed out and now he was wet. Or well his mouth and nose were starting to get that way. Air was harder to achieve too. An instant and he was struggling, he couldn’t swim, he was held down. Eyes burning trying to open them in the water, muffled voices just beyond the splashing. Just as quickly he was lifted out of the water, gasping his heart finally catching up to the panicking in the water.

“And we will walk through his gate unto Eden.” If he wasn’t catching his breath Chance would have rolled his eyes, John, of course it was John. He glanced around as the other members repeated the last line, four others each with a member, and a few more on the shore of the lake, Pond, Chance, pond. Chance brought his left hand up, the other following close behind, Cuffs really?, pushing what hair he could out of his face.

Chance stumbled as he was pushed back towards the shore, last in line as the other four, all seeming to be in various states of high with the Bliss, only paused to be anointed with a cross on their foreheads by John. He had just finished with the last one, the blessing whispered as his blue eyes slowly moved over to face Chance. As he became within ear shot he smirked holding up his hands, “Should have guessed you were kinky Sunglasses. Not sure I’m down with that drowning fetish of yours.”

John’s jaw tightened, blue eyes narrowing, “You really believe yourself to be clever don’t you?”

Chance laughed, “You’re not denying anything.”

“I don’t have time for your games tonight,” he leaned closer, voice lowering, “Deputy.”

Chance gritted his teeth bitting back the automatic correction of his name, “Aww, but it’s Thursday, Fashion Week, that’s our special game night.”

“You stole something from me,” This was about the plane?! Seriously, “and I intend to get it back.”

“Hm, gotta be a little more specific.”

“Small, valuable, and very important to me.”

“Your dignity?” Chance’s smirk grew, pointedly looking John up and down before shrugging, rolling his eyes, “Sorry wasn’t me. Can’t steal something you don’t have.”

He honestly didn’t think John could move that fast, or be that strong. If it wasn’t easy the first time to fight back, John made it harder as Chance found himself on his back, the rocks hitting pressure points, and a tattooed hand wrapped around his throat. A mouthful of the water went down his throat and another stayed in place and he felt himself be lifted to the surface once more. He was forced back into a standing position, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” John ordered through clenched teeth, face inches from Chance’s.

Chance gave a quick smirk spitting out the held water dead center of John’s face. He laughed at the brief look of surprise on the Baptist’s face, “Oh there’s that signature flirting of yours,” Chance leaned closer, hands tightening on his upper arms, “That how you charmed that wife of yours?”

John’s hand closest to Chance’s neck gripped tightly, nails digging in, snarling as he moved to push Chance back into the water. Chance took a deep breath readying himself, “John,” one word and he hovered above the water, John’s face shifting from his anger to one of a younger man, child-like, caught in the middle of something he shouldn’t have been doing. Chance was lifted, blowing away some of the hair from his vision. There on the shore stood Joseph, dressed in a white button down shirt and dark vest, rosary wrapped around his left hand still, his yellow glasses still on despite the night sky, God do those ever come off?. “Do you mock the cleansing?”

John has yet to turn to face him fully, head lowered, “No, Joseph.”

Chance gave a snort mumbling, “I sure fucking do.” John’s eyes moved fixating on Chance, the emotion in them darkening, teeth grinding.

“Come,” Joseph waved to the member keeping hold of Chance, “bring that one to me.”

Again he was pushed forward, stumbling over the smooth rocks below, “I can walk you know,” he hissed trying to shake free from the member’s grip.

Joseph placed his hands on Chance’s shoulders, his stomach turning. John came into his peripheral view, back straight, his face neutral, eyes the only thing giving away any semblance of emotions. Joseph’s gaze moved to John, “You have to love them, John,” Chance raised a brow, frowning, seeing the flicker of pain in John’s eyes, Condescending much. Bit hypocritical too.

“I’ll always be the exception,” Chance scoffed, “No amount Drama King’s love will change that. Or yours Man Bun.”

Joseph’s eyes narrowed just the slightest as they bored into Chance. “Despite all that you have done,” Joseph’s voice, ever so calm, still managed to send chills down his spine, “you are not beyond salvation. You’ve been given a gift.”

“Well I hope you have the receipt still,” he snarled, “cause I don’t want your fucking salvation.” Chance hissed in pain, knife point near his kidney. He glanced over to his right, John had moved closer, left arm outstretched, Dude, I don’t owe your brother any respect.

His remarks were ignored, “You’re not here by accident or by choice,” Chance opened his mouth to protest, stopped by the knife digging in a little deeper, “You are here by the grace of God. Everything you are, everything you’ve experienced has led you to this moment….To your destiny.”

Chance pushed forward, hands holding him back. Joseph stepped back as the young deputy spit in his face, “Fuck your destiny!” He snarled shaking off the hands, placing himself inches from Joseph, voice lowering, “That line may work on your followers, but I know better. I know what you’ve done to get your damn bullshit prophecy brought to life.”

Chance glowered willing Joseph to move, to get angry, to lift the curtain on his calm leader persona. He didn’t, simply turning to John as he wiped away at his face, “This one will reach atonement.” He pulled his brother closer, touching their foreheads together, whispering, “or the gates of Eden shall be shut to you, John.” The volume may have been soft, evocative of guidance but Chance could hear it. The threat, hidden within the disappointment Joseph had put on for his younger brother.

“Yes, Joseph,” he whispered, head hanging lower, Chance looking between the two of them, Where’s the backbone you have for everyone else, Sunglasses?. His older brother turned making his way back towards the trucks, John and Chance watching as he moved farther from earshot. The moment he did, John’s face overtook Chance’s vision, “You will confess, no matter how long it takes.” John directed his men to place Chance into a van, placing his cuffs around a bar on the ceiling. He still tried to land a kick on one of the members as they did so, the butt of a gun meeting his diaphragm knocking the breath out of him briefly.

The doors shut, leaving the young man alone in the van with the muffled engines of other vehicles driving away. “Either you’re dead or,” Chance whispered, “something much worse is going to happen.”

The driver’s door opened, a balding man sliding in, his stature feeling familiar, “Bring him to the room I have prepared at the bunker,” John instructed, the man nodding along. “Don’t leave his side once there, Mr. Powell.”

“I know John,” the driver snapped, Chance’s eyes going wide, It’s the guy from the Ranch, “You need to go before it gets too suspicious.” A moment of silence fell before the van started moving, radio turned down low. Chance caught the man’s eyes in the rearview, Powell, what’s your role in all of this?, he moved closer, the metal scraping against one another, “Stay put.”

“Not like anyone can see me back here,” Chance huffed finally bringing himself to the front of the van, “Besides I’d rather not yell to talk to you.” Powell stayed silent, “Let’s start with names; I’m Chance.”

“I know who you are.”

“But I don’t know you. All I know is you’re the guy that helped me get Nick’s plane back to him. So what’s your first name? I know it can’t be Powell.”

“What makes you say that, kid?”

“Cause no parent would hate their child that much to be name them Powell.”

“Your name is basically a pun,” he gave a quick smile, “What does that say about your parents?”

“Dad didn’t pick it out. I’d have been Jason if he did.”

“Probably best he didn’t then.” Chance tilted his head, “I knew your grandfather a little bit, knew he would have just called you JR.”

Chance rolled his eyes, small smile on his lips, Just keep him talking, that’s how they did it in the movies right?, “Point taken. You’re still not answering my question though.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because you’re not on their side. Not really.” Chance scrutinized his face, “Feel like I’ve seen you one other time.”

“I lived here, that’s probably what you’re thinking.”

“No, well probably but I mean when all this cult bs started to get worse,” Chance shook his head, looking ahead to the road retracing events, “The wedding,” he finally breathed out. The member glanced over at Chance, “You were there, you hovered close to John and his new wife.”

“A lot of people were at that wedding.”

He shook his head, “Sure, but no one else acted like you did. You stood between her and Joseph.”

“Part of my job.”

“You didn’t even look my and Whitehorse’s way, just focused on the Father,” Chance looked down to his muddied boots, “She didn’t really want to be there, did she?”

He slowed looking around, “No. She didn’t.” Powell’s eyes looked Chance over, with his hunched shoulders and distant eyes, letting out a sigh, “It’s easy to dwell on the what ifs and what could have been, but you and me? We can’t afford to. Best we can do is keep moving, hoping to do better.” The two approached the intersection with the main road, the member stopping ejecting the tape from the radio. “Speaking of which,” he turned to face Chance, “Better grab onto something.” Chance watched as the man slipped the tape into Chance’s pocket, “Don’t lose that either. Get it to your friend Wheaty.”

“Wait why?” The driver didn’t respond as he pulled out onto the road, with a truck quickly approaching from the left side. “Uh, hey I don’t-.” The impact hurt, no amount of gripping onto the bar prevented Chance from hanging as the van rolled. He could feel the metal cutting away at his skin, on its side, the zero gravity as he brought his knees to his chest, upside down, finally the impact as his body hit the metal siding.

His vision went black as he oriented himself, the breaking of glass muffled among the groans of the van. Chance groaned hearing the muffled gunfire, blinking a few times to right his vision once again. Escape, that’s what he had to do, he had to escape. He still had a feeling of seeing double as he repositioned himself, bracing his legs on the ceiling of the van pulling on the rod holding the handcuffs hostage. The gunfire grew louder, the rod unmoving, “Oh come on adrenaline!” Chance growled, “Fucking work with me tonight!”

“He’s gettin’ away!”

“Ah leave him be,” two voices yelled out, “He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough!”

The back door groaned open, slamming against the asphalt, Chance flinched at the sound. Despite the night sky, the low light hurt his eyes and he tried to shield them from it. “Well look at that,” Chance didn’t need to look at the man’s face to place the calming voice, “that tip we got was real.”

He looked up at the bulletproof vest clad pastor, eyebrows raising, “Someone tipped you off that I’d be coming this way?”

“Mhm,” Jerome moved inside the van, a thin piece of metal between his fingers, “Heard you had gotten taken earlier in the day, knew it had to be John. Thing is he’s gotten smarter about changing his baptismal areas, so we didn’t even know where to start.” The older gentleman’s fingers moved deftly along the locks of the cuffs, a small click heard as Chance’s right wrist was freed, “Then got word on the radio from Wheaty saying he saw the caravan moving from the Whitetails back down south.”

Chance stayed silent watching as Jerome worked on the left wrist, No way we were up that far north. We stayed in the valley the whole time. With his left wrist free Chance rubbed some feeling back into them, examining the cuts, “Thanks. For saving me that is. Overheard John having some special plans for me.”

“I bet he did,” the two men crawled their way back out to the small group of others, all letting out a cheer upon seeing Chance. “Like I keep trying to tell ya: it’d be a shame to lose you now, dep- I mean Chance.”

Chance scanned the area, checking his pocket, the cassette tape still in its place. This road didn’t go near the Whitetails, not for a while, and even then it would be on the eastern side of it, And we’re on the west. The windshield laid a foot away from the van, the glass still put together despite the cracks within it, I don’t think there’s enough cracks for it to have been impulsive. Powell, Powell knew something or this was part of John’s plan. Could have been, just the motivation wasn’t there. Wheaty told them that we were coming from the south of the Whitetails….

The tape in his pocket weighed heavily, his head pounding away, and his wrists still throbbing. Sleep might have been the best thing to do first. Jerome was in agreement as they approached Fall’s End, switching to a sedan for the drive to Chance’s house. The young man laid his head back, pulling the lever to lower the seat too, eyes closing. “Hey Jerome,” Chance asked, the pastor humming in response, “You know just about everyone in this county right?”

“Try too, but sometimes people slip by the wayside. Why do you ask?”

“Does the last name Powell mean anything to you?”

“Powell?” Chance gave a small nod, his stomach rolling, “Only know of one Powell and last I heard was one of the first to join Eden’s Gate once they got that compound of their going.”

Chance knitted his brow, “One of the first? That….feels surprising. Are you sure?”

“That’s what’s been said, he is a part of Eden’s Gate though, I know that much. Became one of Jacob’s chosen and then personal guard to John’s wife when she was still around.”

Does no one in this place know she’s still alive? Or do they just not believe it? “Now he’s just John’s personal guard?”

Jerome gave a shrug, “Couldn’t tell ya. I don’t think he likes John much either since Mary. Seemed real protective over her the few times I saw her.”

“You knew her?”

“Sort of,” Jerome glanced over at Chance, “Do I need to pull over?” Chance shook his head, “Alright just tell me if I do. But anyway Mary came by a few times wondering if I’d be willing to help in setting up some charity work she was wanting to do, told her no though. Didn’t hold much trust for them back then either.”

“What’s his name?”

Jerome chuckled, “You planning’ on getting to know all the members this much?”

“Nah,” Chance smirked, “Just the second time I’ve come in close contact with him is all. Feel like it can’t just be a coincidence.”

“What does your instinct say about it?”

That was the hard part, as it said to not trust him while also saying that Powell had his own agenda that could work well in his favor. Then again this was the same instinct that told him it was okay to bring probably the most dangerous of the siblings to his house to care for her. The same one that had him going back to Faith because there was some part of her that was good still in there. His gut instinct was the one that gave the notion that there was something amiss last year at that wedding, but then agreed with Whitehorse when he said there was nothing saying there was anything wrong. His instinct sucked.

The logic of it all though said that it wasn’t coincidence that he had encountered Powell twice. That fact that he let Chance go both times said that he needed him out in the county rather than with John. Powell knew of Wheaty and doubtful that he was just sharing his music tastes with someone on the other side of this. “Best we can do is keep moving, hoping to do better.”, that line meant there were regrets to be had. The facts were that Powell was also one of the first to join up with the cult willingly years ago. Made it high enough in the rankings to be personal protection for John’s wife, She had to have had some trust for him right? Or else how would he know what she was thinking that day?.

Chance let out a sigh, “Instinct is saying I need more information.” He opened an eye looking up at Jerome, “Which will be easier having his full name, Jerome.”

The pastor chuckled, “His name is Lance. Lance Powell.”

“Lance,” Chance repeated, the name bringing up fuzzy memories, “He had a kid didn’t he?” Jerome hummed in confirmation, Chance clicking his tongue, “Huh, think I saw them once when I was a kid. One of those fishing competitions or barbeques or something like that.”

“Possible,” he pulled up to the quiet cabin, engine shutting off, “You want some help getting settled?”

Chance sat up stretching out his limbs, “Nah, I should be okay. Thanks though.”

“Alright, give a call on the radio if you need anything.” Chance gave a wave listening for the car to start again before turning towards the old cabin. Lance Powell, he mused pulling out the cassette tape, what’s your angle here?, Chance flipped it over. Nothing special about it, even had a label on it, Cowtipping Extravaganza! ‘85, he frowned looking at the name. Well that’s….cryptic. Chance tossed the tape onto the cd player, eyes scanning for the bottle of Tylenol, his head was still pounding and trying to solve a mystery wasn’t much help.

He located the bottle knocking back four of the pills, reaching for the radio next to it, clearing his throat, “Hey Wheaty, you there?”

There was a moment of silence as Chance laid back on his bed, “Chance? That you?”

“One and only,” he gave a smile, “Hey do you mind comin’ down here in the next few hours?”

“Uh, gotta get that cleared with Eli, you know how he is about that stuff.”

“Yeah no, I know. Look I got a tape here that I was told to get to you.”

“Tape? As in duct tape or cassette tape?”

“Cassette.”

There was a silence, Chance closing his eyes, his breathing evening out. “Alright I’ll be there in the next few hours,” his friend sounded out of breath, “You at your place?”

Chance nodded, yawning, “Yeah. Just walk in when you get here.” If there was a response he didn’t hear it, falling quickly into a dreamless slumber. By the time he awoke again, his friend was nowhere to be found, the tape gone from where Chance had tossed it earlier. Guess you couldn’t stay very long, he glanced up at the clock reading three o’clock in the afternoon, Or I slept longer than I thought. Next time, next time Chance was up with the militia he’d make sure to get the answers he wanted about Lance. In the meantime he heard the local arsonist needed a little assistance and Chance was always down to help an old party buddy.

#a chance for faith #x: emo flower child #i have missed my boy #lance powell oc #and yes I do all I can to avoid writing combat when possible because its hard

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ahnsael · 3 years

Text

Last night I got an update on the guy I found unresponsive with a purple face, slumped over a slot machine last Monday.

I had received two prior updates. One was later that morning, when I was told he was breathing on his own and speaking. on Wednesday, I was told that he was ambulatory and in good spirits, but still in ICU. So the update I got last night hit me kind of hard.

His brother and the brother’s wife came in to pick up the scooter and the money he had on his slot machine when he went down (I haven’t been able to so much as glance at that machine without thinking about this guy).

He’s still alive. For the first time, I found out that it was a major heart attack.

But three of his aortas are 90% clogged, and he doesn’t want open heart surgery to unclog them. He’s going to let nature take its course, and say some goodbyes and apparently also tell a few people off before he passes. But he’s not long for this world with his refusal of surgery.

Part of me gets it. Maybe he just feels that it’s time. And he was really nice to talk to when he was in the casino and...you know, still breathing. Not so nice to talk to when I was shouting “Sir, are you still with me?” while shaking him to try to wake him up and just realizing he wasn’t just asleep.

And part of me is angry. That was a rough situation for me. I got emotionally involved, which I can’t help -- that’s just who I am. I got him down to the ground from his scooter without dropping him (and he was a fairly large guy -- thank you, adrenaline rush). I performed CPR on him with 911 walking me through it. The deputies took over (several of them, working as a team). Then paramedics took over (at least six of them, I forget exactly how many). He was still unresponsive when he was wheeled out of the casino. Paramedics must have done something even more amazing than they did when I was watching, because they brought him back.

And now he’s just...giving up. And I don’t know whether “angry” is the right word. I’m definitely upset. I haven’t been able to process whether that means angry, or just sad, or...just a feeling of “it was all for nothing.”

There’s definitely sadness. There’s also happiness that, if this is his choice, at least I was a part of giving him time to say the things he wants to say to people before he dies.

Before his scooter was picked up yesterday afternoon, it was a reminder every time I saw it. The machine he was playing will always be a reminder.

Tangent time. Because I need to put my head a little bit straighter by remembering a time there WAS a happy ending (as far as I know).

Just like I can never visit the Hungry Bear Restaurant at Disneyland without thinking of the time I was a lead checking on an ice cream cart outside of the restaurant and heard a radio call that First Aid was responding to the restaurant for a child not breathing. I went up to assist with crowd control only to find that the only cast member around was the Custodial cast member who had called it in, and I realized “I’m the guy wearing a tie, and everyone is staring at me, so I guess that means I’m in charge until First Aid gets here. Crap.”

I loudly told the custodial cast member (loudly to snap her out of her shocked state -- she was still holding the radio to her mouth and hadn’t moved since I got up there) to get everyone 20 feet back and to clear a way through for First Aid. She jumped into action and got it done (I think I only got about 10 feet of clearance, but she got an aisle open for First Aid, so she did a great job having to control a crowd that size by herself when crowd control isn’t her normal job function).

I grabbed the kid (and this was back when CPR included mouth-to-mouth) so I reached in to check for obstructions, and had to dig his tongue out of his throat. About 30-seconds of old-school CPR (mouth-to-mouth alternating with chest compressions) and he was coughing and losing the blue tint to his face (it strikes me now how I distinctly remember this kid being blue, but the scooter guy being purple).

Once he came to, his mom picked him up and started to walk away. I asked where she was going, and she said “I promised him I’d take him on Splash Mountain.” I had to stand in her way and tell her she wasn’t going anywhere until First Aid got there and made sure the kid was okay.

A week later, there was a probably 14 year old boy who wasn’t breathing and, once again, I was the closest lead, so I went, thinking “Not again” -- trying to save someone’s life is STRESSFUL -- and found this teenager unresponsive in a pool of THICK vomit. I was grossed out, but...in those situations, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Fortunately for me, one of my managers got there just before I started, yanked me up, and told me to wait backstage (this was by the Kodak boot near It’s a Small World, so I went back to the break room in the Storybook Land boat storage and just...cried). He never told me how it turned out, and I didn’t ask. But he knew how stressed I was after the first one (I had to go backstage to write a statement, but even after I wrote it, I needed about another hour before I was with it enough to go onstage).

Sorry for the aside, but...situations like this stick with you (or at least with me). Knowing that someone’s life could be in my hands and that they may die in my arms is stressful as heck, and those situations (again, at least for me), are things I cannot forget.

I’m sad that it’s going to end this way for the guy we referred to as “scooter guy” while he was in the casino (none of us knew him, and I’d never seen anyone play slot machines in a scooter before -- not that there’s anything wrong with that, and none of us said “scooter guy” in a derogatory way; we just didn’t know him and it was the way we described him so other workers would know who we were talking about -- I worked at Disneyland so I’m used to scooters, just not in this job; we now know his name so we don’t call him “scooter guy” anymore but I don’t want to use his name in a public post), but I know none of it is something to feel guilty about -- I did what I had to do under the circumstances, but I’m just really bummed that there is no happy ending coming. But that is his decision to make (hopefully after discussing it with family, but even if he didn’t, it’s his life/death to deal with as he chooses). But it almost feels like him refusing surgery is tantamount to him committing suicide. And I’m really bummed out by that. I cried a few times overnight. And I’m still not sure which part of what I’m feeling caused it. I think it’s mostly sadness, but there’s also the selfish reason that “in the end, what I did may have made a short-term difference, but in the long run it meant nothing.”

And I’m also upset that I feel that way. What it means to him and his family, I will probably never know. So part of me just wants to just let it go but...I became personally invested in this (which may have been my mistake). Why should I feel bad for someone who is going out the way he wants to go? His body, his choice. I’ve been on tumblr long enough to know this.

But there is that element of “unintentional betrayal,” I guess one would call it. He has no idea who I am. I only know his name, and didn’t know it until after. But it’s his life,and his call to make.

I’ll be okay in the end, knowing that I tried in every way I could, including calling others who were better-equipped to help than I was. But in the short term, this is gonna be hitting me pretty hard.

#work things #tw: death #trigger warning: death #tw: suicide #trigger warning: suicide

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youllneverknowrac · 4 years

Text

Oscar Diaz-Summer Nights

Summer days just sitting around but when the sun goes down, I’ll be ready to party

It was officially the first day of Summer so everybody in the neighborhood was in high spirits, and like usual there was going to be party. Only this time it was being held at one of the other Santo members house since he wanted to plan a big bash for his little sister’s high school graduation celebration. That meant all sorts of different people were going to be in attendance of all backgrounds and ages. As you play out tonight in your mind you end up getting distracted when your phone goes off so you set your lipgloss down and rush over to it.

Call the ruca on the phone, let her know I'm home alone, Its Seven thirty and the sun is going down, Its a Summer night and the fun is going down, I picked her up and she looks all dolled up, Sitting passenger in my rag impala , I let her know she looks beautiful to me, The world is an ugly place but she's such a site to see

“What’s up papi?” You ask into the receiver after you answer, glancing at your alarm clock to check the time since Oscar said he wouldn’t be picking you up until later since he had to go take care of something.

“Ima pull up on you so we can dip, I finished a bit earlier than expected so I figured we could kick it for a bit before the party started.” You hear him say, his voice sort of muffled by the sound of air coming in through his rolled down windows along with the music he was playing.

“Are you asking or telling me?” You smirk as you put him on speaker so you can hurry up and pull on your outfit.

“Telling, so hurry up and pull those jeans over that ass of yours.” He reply’s smugly,”Wear those hoops I bought you too, I like the way they sparkle and shit.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You laugh as you shake your head and jump into your too tight jeans. Your legs poking out from the ripped areas,”The only man I will ever let boss me around.” You joke

“Only women I let boss me around.”

“Don’t you forget it.” You retort as your search for the specific hoops among all your other ones, letting Oscar talk about who knows what while you finish getting ready,”Damn do you gotta pull up banging like that?” You ask him a few minutes later as you grab your phone, Oscar’s famous red car now parked in your driveway,”I can hear you all the way from Beverly Hills.”

“Fuck Beverly Hills, your ass would never be caught there. Besides you’re the one that bought me the speakers.” He reminds as you make your way out after quickly saying by to your grandparents who sat outside in the garden.

“Yeah I’m starting to regret that.” You tell him when you walkout, hanging up and sliding your phone into your back pocket,”What are you staring at fool?” You tease as you open the door and climb in, thankful he cut off the radio so you could actually talk to him.

“You.” He shrugs and leans over to peck you,”You look beautiful...sexy.” He mumbles against your lips,”Cherry?” He asks when he pulls away, a slight shine on his own lips now.

“Strawberry.” You correct him as you buckle up, your smile on full display,”You like?”

“I like everything about you chiquita.” He breaths, his head still in your personal space until your hand pushes him away playfully.

“Back up before you get smacked up.” You warn him, Oscar laughing at your remark.

“That’s my line, you copying my style?”

“It’s not copying when I do it better papi.”

“Better?” He scoffs as he begins to back out of the drive way.

“I didn’t stutter.” You tell him as you pull down the mirror so you could apply more of the gloss,”Don’t be a hater.”

“Hater my ass.”

“Hm.” You hum as you gloss up your lips carefully,”We going to your house?”

“Obviamente, why? You want to go somewhere else or que?”

“I want something from the refresqueria...I don’t know what exactly but something.”

“Yo your ass always wants to eat something.” He chuckles,”What do you want this time? Hot Cheetos, elote, tacos, or a bu...”

“Aye, if you keep it up I’ll make you buy it all.” You cut him off

“I let you get away with too much, I need to quit spoiling you. You’re attitude gets worse everyday.”

“You want me to get out of the car?” You ask smugly as you reach over and take his free hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel,”I’ll walk home and leave you all alone.”

“You ain’t walking nowhere.” He laughs and brings your intertwined hands up to place a reassuring kiss to the back of yours. You don’t respond, your smile growing wider as you look out the window.

The temp was eighty and I'm cruising with my lady, Playing some Ralphie Pagan, "Oh Baby Baby", I see my home boys and they're cruising in their rides, With their ladies sitting by their side, People think we look crazy, but I think we look classy, But then again that's only if you ask me

“Looks like the homies had the same idea.” Oscar says after he parks in the crowded lot.

“Oh the girls are here.” You say happily as you take notice of the royal blue low rider parked next to a similar car in black,”Let’s go say hi.” You exclaim, not giving Oscar time to respond as you jump out and walk over to your group of friends,”What’s up bitches?!” You squeal

“Hey girl!” The two girls say mutually as they each pull away from their respective boy friend to come greet you.

“What’s up.” Sad Eyez smiles while Joker gives you a head nod, before the three guys engage in a conversation.

“Did you guys order already?” You ask as you take notice of all the people waiting for their food.

“Yes and the line took forever. If you want you can have some of our shit, you already know Fransico’s scrawny ass is only going to take two bites before he’s full.” Sad Eyez girl, Gia, informs you.

“Yeah girl, you can have some of our shit too.” Lena shrugs,”It should be here any second, besides all these people staring at us got me feeling some type of way.”

“What who’s staring?!” Gia says loudly as she looks around, her red dyed hair flapping about,”I’ll kindly tell them to fuck off.”

“Someone staring at y’all?” Oscar asks, him and the other guys coming closer protectively.

“More or less.” Lena reply’s as she grabs a hold of Joker’s arm,”It’s fine, how could they not stare when we rolled up in the sexiest cars.”

“Period.” You laugh and lean against your boyfriend,”Sexiest cars and the baddest bitches.”

“Man, they just hating cause we some classy mofos.” Oscar laughs loudly,”However, if anyone has a problem they can address it with me.” He adds loudly causing everybody in ear shot to look away rather quickly.

“Shhh, before you get us kicked off the property.” You giggle and stand up on your tip toes to give him a small kiss,”The foods almost here and I’ll be pissed if I can’t eat any.” You say before letting him return to his previous conversation so you can do the same. After another few minutes a worker comes out and finds you guys with ease and hands out the items.

“Thank you guys so much, I’ll see y’all tonight right?” You ask after taking a bite of your chile covered fruit minutes later.

“Most definitely! See you in a bit!” Gia calls as she hangs out the window as Sad Eyez drives off. Jokers car following them with a honk.

“Let’s go bebe.” Oscar says and ushers you toward the car, opening the passenger side door before heading around to his side. Wanting to get in some alone time before tonight started and he would have to share your attention.

My homeboys throwing a back yard boogie, So every body gets together to unwind, relax and have a fun time, The DJ is spinning so I grab the mic and be like, Ain't nothing like them summer nights, The party is packed with beautiful woman and, A gang of the homies that want to get with them, And they'll say anything just to hit em, And its usually a nice summer night when they did em, Idon't know, it must be something in the air, Can't help but have a good time, because the feeling is there, To some people the feeling is rare, They're at the pad saying God dam I wish I was there, To have a drink, have a tok and hook up, With some one fine but the kind that looks up, Got to keep some pisto in the cup, Party until the sun comes up or we give up

After spending time with Oscar at his place for a while you guys ended up going to the party that was now in full effect when you pulled up. You head to the backyard hand in hand before finding a few other Santo members and taking a seat with them, well you sat on Oscar’s lap of course as you looked out at the swarm of people. You sigh contently as you lean back against him, listening to his conversation and laughing when he did since you could feel the rumble of his chest.

“Look at Cesar.” You whisper in his ear as you watch the younger Diaz flirt with some girl.

“He ain’t got no game.” Oscar says teasingly,”See.” He says moments later when the girl walks away rather quickly.

“Stop, he’s trying.” You laugh and shake your head when he goes straight to another girl.

“He’s failing.”

“Didn’t it take you three times before I finally said yes to go on a date with you.”

“Aye that was a long time ago and we’re talking about him, not us.” Oscar smacks his lips as his fingers dig into your side.

“I’m just saying.” You giggle before turning your head so you can kiss his cheek,”You want a drink?”

“Corona please.”

“I’ll be right back.” You nod and get up so you can go in search of a cooler. You retrieve two cold bottles before making your way back and sitting back down on a awaiting Oscar.

“Thank you Chiquita.”

“You’re welcome.” You tell him before taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the night being spent socializing or forcing Oscar to occasionally dance with you.

As I close out my summer night and say good night, Its time to put the top up and park it, drop it, Unplug the ground, roll up the windows and lock it, Walk into the pad and fall into bed, As she lays on my chest to rest her sleepy head

“Tonight was fun.” You tell Oscar sleepily as you lay on top of him, now dressed in one of his t-shirts.

“It was good seeing the whole neighborhood click up like that.”

“Yeah...Summers the best.” You hiccup,”I might still be a little tipsy. Just a little.”

“I could have told you that after your fourth beer mami. I thought I was going to have to carry you out of the party.” He laughs as he lazily rubs your back.

“You should have carried me anyway, queens shouldn’t have to walk.” You laugh softly,”Am I a queen?”

“Mi reina.” Oscar reassures you with a kiss to the top of your head

“Good answer.” You yawn as your eyes flutter close,”I love summer.”

“Me too, I love summer nights with you the most though.” He admits,”Go to sleep mami, we’ll continue the party tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He nods, holding your body to his until you’ve fallen into a deep slumber and he’s done the same. The first night of Summer taking a toll on the both of you, luckily you guys still had three more months left of it to enjoy.

#spooky diaz #spooky x reader #netflix on my block #on my block imagines #netflix #freeridge #omb #on my block season 3 #one shot #omb season 3 #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 4 years

Text

Kodachrome (5/5)

Sinclairs x f!Reader

Warning: Cursing

It was coming up on six o’clock in Ambrose. You and Lester made it back about half an hour ago and settled in to wait for Bo and Vincent to return. They arrived around fifteen minutes after you.

Bo was now smoking out of a cracked window, insisting it was too hot to stand outside but knowing you didn’t like the smell lingering in the house. He was still in his long-sleeved uniform. You knew better than to tell him to change or roll up his sleeves at least, but you wanted him to be comfortable. There was no way he wasn’t dying from the way he was sweating through it. It was better to let him make that call on his own, however; and to not utter a single word about it in the rare case he actually did decide to change.

Vincent was sitting up on the couch sketching with Jonesy taking up the other half. He ditched his sweater, wearing an old tank instead. He also had his hair pulled up from his neck in a loose ponytail, but still wore his mask.

Lester – who had all but tossed his hat and over shirt across the room upon returning home – was helping you in the kitchen, distributing the sweet tea and lemonade. He took Vincent a glass of lemonade before settling himself on the floor with his own glass of sweet tea. You followed close behind with Bo’s sweet tea and a lemonade for yourself.

“It’s not a beer, but it’s still good.” You said as you approached Bo. He stubbed out his cigarette and took the glass from you.

“I suppose it’ll do.” Bo said, feigning a sigh of disappointment. He took a few sips and glanced at the glass and back to you, “Damn, if that isn’t good.”

“Glad you approve.” You said as you took a drink of your lemonade.

“So, you take any good pictures after I kicked you to the curb?” Bo asked

“In fact, I did. No thanks to you.” You said cheekily, glancing at your camera and photographs that you had set on the pool table “I’m going to fill an album with my cheesy, crappy pictures and you know what I’m going to do after that?”

“I gotta know.” Bo deadpanned

“I’m going to fill another.” You said eagerly “And another and so on, so forth.”

“If that’s what gets you outta bed in the mornin’.” Bo said with a shrug. Before you could fire back, a rumble from outside interrupted you. You and Bo looked outside to see storm clouds suddenly rolling in above your little town, “God damn it.”

“What? It’s just a little rain.” You said with excitement, “Might even cool things down a little.”

“I just repainted the fence in front of the apartments. I’m gonna have to fuckin’ do it all again.” Bo huffed

“Don’t worry about it right now, Bo. I’ll help you redo it, if you want.” You offered, “We’re having fun, no need to get worked up.”

“Whatever.” Bo said glaring out the window, willing the clouds away. With that, the rain started falling, tapping on the roof and walls of the home.

“It’s not so bad. I love the rain!” you said trying to lift his spirits.

“What’s there to love? The humidity? The flooding? The leaks in the roof?” Bo asked sarcastically.

“C’mon, didn’t you ever run around in the rain as a kid? Roll around in mud puddles?” You asked.

“No, ‘cuz I didn’t grow up in a pigpen.” Bo snarked, “And if I tracked mud in the house, my old man woulda killed me. He hated mess.”

You set down your glass and made your way out the door and onto the steps. All three Sinclair brothers looked after you, curious to know what you were getting up to now. You stuck your hand out into the downpour, catching the warm droplets as the nostalgia of the summer rain from your childhood struck your senses. You turned around to find the brothers gathered at the door way looking at you with confusion. The look on their faces was a harsh reminder than none them had the same childhood memories you did; they never got the chance. Well, now was as good a time as ever to change that. You dashed back into the house, the brothers parting as you darted up the stairs. You returned with the portable radio from your room. You stared back at the Bo, Vincent, and Lester.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to put on some music and we’re all going to run around in the rain like we’re little kids again, got it.” You practically ordered, “We’re going to have fun.”

“I’m in!” Lester chimed in ecstatically, “It’s gotta beat sittin’ ‘round sweatin’!”

“No fuckin’ way.” Bo refused flat out, “That really what you call fun growin’ up?”

“Yes, because it is fun.” You argued, “What about you, Vincent?” he looked down at the ground, twiddling his fingers, unconvinced. “Well, I can’t make you do anything, but I’m going outside and I’m going to have a blast.” You said determinately. You pushed past the brothers and stopped at the door, “C’mon, Jonesy!”

Jonesy leapt up from the couch and launched herself outside, ahead of you. You could always count on her and Lester. You fiddled with the dial of your radio, quickly tuning in to a classic rock station, Creedence Clearwater Revival lighting up the airwaves. You turned the radio all the way up and set it to the side on the stairs, still under cover from the rain. You quickly yanked Lester outside, both of you laughing as the rain met your skin. You tapped Lester on the shoulder,

“You’re it!” you declared, darting away with Jonesy, screaming as you put distance between you and Lester. After only a second to process, Lester ran full speed behind you, determined to catch up. You and your canine companion ran in big circles, to avoid getting tagged back. The bombardment of raindrops, smacked against your skin, running into your eyesight, “C’mon, Jonesy, keep running or he’ll catch us!”

“Got ya!” Lester lightly smacked the back of your neck before turning on a dime and speeding away from you, “Gotta be faster than that, Y/N!”

“I’ll show you fast!” you called wiping the rainy haze from your eyes as you sprinted after him with Jonesy barking her support. You nearly had him multiple times, but he always managed to abruptly alter his course, just out of your reach. You never knew Lester could be so elusive. Despite all the fun, your lungs already burned and you were already slowing down. As Lester got father away, you glanced down at Jonesy, “I don’t think I can go on! Avenge me, Jonesy!” you said dramatically as you patted her on the head, “You’re it, Jonesy, go get him! Get Lester!”

Jonesy barked in understanding, speeding up to catch Lester. You jogged after them as you witnessed Jonesy rear back on her hind legs and push Lester from behind, forcing him to the ground before attacking him with kisses.

“Good girl!” you praised as you caught up to them, catching your breath, “You got him!”

“She got me alright!” Lester laughed through the slobbery assault.

Vincent and Bo watched the game unfold from the staircase. Through it all, Vincent had made his way to the edge of the rainfall and put his hand out like you had done just moments ago.

“Just look at those two, laughin’ like idiots.” Bo said with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms. He glanced at his twin to see him eyeing the rain with curiosity, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna start too.”

Vincent looked back with a sheepish glance before turning around to see you helping Lester to his feet. He tilted his head as he watched you instruct his younger brother to copy the way you looked up at the sky and held out your arms, spinning around and around until you both fell on your butts. The sound of both of you laughing cut through the rain and the music. You were having so much fun together.

“Good God, they’ve finally lost it.” Bo quipped.

“I heard that, Bo!” you shouted, pushing away the hair that stuck to your face, “You know that could’ve been you that shoved Lester to the ground, but you missed out!”

“C’mon, Bo! Don’t ya wanna wrestle, for old times’ sake? Or are ya ‘fraid of losin’?” Lester taunted

“Fuck no.” Bo stated. You, Lester and Jonesy made your way to the staircase, still standing in the rain.

“How about you, Vincent? Change your mind?” you asked pleadingly. Vincent’s eye darted between you, the rain, and Bo. “Please, for me? Just for a little while?” Vincent glanced back at Bo who rolled his eyes,

“Hey, don’t let me stop you from makin’ a fool of yourself.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, “Be my guest.”

“Every party needs a pooper, Bo!” You teased as you drew Vincent into the rain party. Bo scoffed as he lit up another cigarette, continuing to watch from his sheltered spot.

As the rain fell over Vincent, he held his hands out to catch the drops, looking up at the storm clouds. There was something refreshing about standing in a rain like this. It wasn’t like getting caught in a storm and freezing from the cold winds behind it. It was warm and comforting, like the season of summer was wrapping him in its embrace.

“See, it’s not so bad, right?” your voice drew Vincent from his daze. He nodded in agreement,

“Never thought of rain like this.” He said softly

“Things like rain can always turn into fun if you’re with the right people.” You told him with a sweet smile.

As puddles began to form, Jonesy started zooming through them with Vincent jogging in tow, splashing you and Lester in their wake. You two were distracted trying to catch raindrops on your tongues, giggling every time you were successful. It was only a few moments later you saw Bo move to the edge of the rain and glance up at the clouds. You turned to face him,

“Come on, Bo!” you begged

“If ya’ll wanna make assholes of yourselves, that’s fine! I told you to leave me out of it!” Bo shouted back, digging his heels in and turning his back to all of you to finish his cigarette in peace. You grumbled to yourself.

“Hey, I got a way to get Bo to play along.” Lester whispered.

“This won’t end in either of you getting maimed or put him in a foul mood will it?” you asked cautiously.

“No promises, but Bo’s always in a bad mood, anyway.” Lester said with a mischievous grin, “I used to do this all the time when we was kids. Used to dander him up real quick. Watch this.”

“Wait, Lester!” you called in a hushed voice. He ignored you as he silently crept up behind his oldest brother as you prayed for his safety and Bo’s mercy. You bore horrified, silent witness as Lester drew closer to Bo, stopping just behind him. Without hesitation, Lester smacked Bo across the back of the head, lurching him forward, before hauling ass. Bo did a double take, not realizing what just happened until he registered Lester’s retreating figure. His face twisted in scowl as his face turned bright red, as he threw down his cigarette.

“You get the fuck back over here, you smelly bastard!” Bo shouted as he ran after his younger brother, “I’m gonna rip your arm off and smack you across the head, see how you like it! I swear to Christ I will!”

“I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me, Bo! I’m just a boy!” Lester called back through his fit of hysterical laughter. Threat of physical dismemberment or not, Lester was having a grand old time. They continued to yell back and forth through their game of chase.

“Wait! Bo! Lester!” you cried as you followed after them with Vincent, “Bo, don’t hurt your brother!” You were pretty sure Bo wasn’t as angry as he said he was. If he really wanted to kill Lester, he wouldn’t be shouting so much.

Bo finally caught up to Lester in the grass and tackled him into the mud. The two of them wrestled, trying to get the other in a headlock first, rolling all around a mudpuddle. You and Vincent caught up and watched from the sidelines. Part of you wanted to stop them so neither of them would get hurt, but the other part wanted to see how this played out. Bo eventually got the upper hand, shaking Lester back and forth by his shirt.

“Wait, wait! Bo! Stop, please!” Lester pleaded, “Just let me say somethin’!” Bo stopped his literal shakedown, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

“What?” he hissed angrily.

“I hope ya like pie.” Lester said with a deep breath in.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Mud pie!” Lester screeched as he hurled a huge wad of mud directly in Bo’s face, knocking off his hat. You and Vincent’s hands flew to your mouths. Lester used the initial shock to scurry out of Bo’s grip to just a few feet in front of him. There had never been a moment more fragile, nobody dared say anything. Silence never seemed so loud before. Bo slowly moved his hands to his eyes and scooped away the mud with a violent flick of his hands. It was so funny, but you were too scared to laugh. He looked so mad that he hadn’t seen that one coming. Bo’s blue eyes peaked out from the brown of the mud as he shifted his dangerous glare on Lester again. The youngest Sinclair practically gulped with a nervous smile, “No hard feelins?”

As Bo pounced once more, you and Vincent jumped up. Vincent tried to hold Bo back while you did what you could to release his grip on Lester’s ankle. While you two struggled to keep them at bay, Lester and Bo kept flinging handfuls of mud at one another. All of you yelling over one another the whole time. Vincent quickly lost his grip on his twin from the slick mud and rain covering both of them now. Bo swiftly swiped up another handful of mud, reeling back with reckless abandon and zero aim, thus whipping you directly in the face. The force knocked you back as you sputtered through the dirt in your mouth and eyes.

All grappling ceased with gasps from all three of brothers. Vincent slowly moved toward you with his hands out, trying to see if you needed help. You caught a glimpse of their concerned faces through the muddy haze. In reality, you were biting back a smirk as you were about to get retribution. You started violently rubbing at your eyes,

“Ow, ow, my eyes! It hurts! I can’t see!” you feigned helplessness, adding a waver to your voice for effect. They were all on their feet in an instant. Vincent came up next to you and tilted your head up to the rain to try to help flush your eyes. Lester patted your shoulder to comfort you, telling you not to panic. Bo grabbed your wrists from your face,

“Shit, Y/N!” he said, frustration masking the guilt, “Stop rubbing at ‘em, you’re gonna make it worse. Let me see.”

“No! This is your fault!” you said, screwing your eyes tighter.

“Don’t be a brat, let me take a look!” Bo ordered. With that, you opened your eyes and snapped your head forward with an evil smirk. “What the h-”

Without warning, you tackled him back into the mudpuddle, startling all three brothers. With Bo stunned for the second time that evening, you scooped up all the mud you could hold and plopped it on his face.

“Suck mud, Sinclair!” you yelled with wicked laughter. Bo sat up, knocking you over,

“You little shit!” he fumed “You play dirty!”

“I play to win, old man!” you boasted. Bo got up, ready to attack again, before Lester joined the fray once more, piling more mud onto his older brother’s hair. Bo yanked Lester from behind him and hooked an arm around his neck.

“I can take both of you, bring it on!” Bo proclaimed as he dunked Lester’s head in the mud over and over. You wrapped your arms around Bo’s broad shoulders and tried to drag him back down into the mud with you, a difficult feat as he was twice your size, “The hell are you tryin’ to do? Choke me out?”

“If it’s death by mud for one, is death by mud for all!” you shouted through your struggle. Jonesy started running around the three of you, caking all of you in splashes of mud.

Vincent didn’t know whether to be amused or distraught at the spectacle before him. At least you weren’t actually hurt. Watching you all squabble while Bo struggled between keeping Lester in a headlock and all your weight pulling him backwards was sight to be seen. He could have never predicted this was how his day would end. He tilted his head and watched, knowing better than to get involved. He got hit with a few rogue mud pies, but he wasn’t too bothered about it since he was already a mess from trying to hold back Bo. It seemed he was the only adult living with three children.

Eventually the three of you wore yourself out by the time you were pretty much caked in mud from head to toe. You, Bo, and Lester ended sitting in the mud puddle, too tired to continue the scuffle. You were leaning back on your hands, Lester was laying back completely, and Bo was sitting back on his knees. The rain, now more of a light drizzle, washed a little of the mud away, but not much. You all glanced at one another, taking in your ridiculous states and couldn’t help but laugh at yourselves. You and Lester started another fit of hysterics as Bo cracked a smiled. Vincent even chuckled under his mask.

“See, now wasn’t that fun?” you asked them as you all continued to laugh. It was a successful mud fight if ever there was one.

“Yeah, loads. I love havin’ mud and dirt in my ass crack.” Bo snorted as he stood up from the puddle, searching for his hat.

“I thought it was a riot, Y/N!” Lester disagreed as he stood up as well “Can’t believe we didn’t try this sooner. Most fun I’ve had in some time.”

“Did you have fun, Vincent?” you asked

“Yes. Messy, though.” He rasped, taking in the mud that had left Jonesy’s fur completely brown. He looked back at you saying, “It was nice.”

“I wanted you all to have fun for a little while. Thought you all deserved a break.” You said as Vincent and Lester hauled you up from the mud.

“Well, personally, I’m all funned out.” Bo said sarcastically as he placed his hat back on his head “And next time you actually hurt yourself, I’m not gonna do a thing about it. Make you think twice ‘bout cryin’ wolf.”

“I was just getting even with you for smacking me in the face. But I’m sorry if I worried any of you.” You said

“Fine, I suppose we’re even, in that case. Just don’t do it again.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, unconcerned with the whole ordeal, “Now, let’s go home. I need another cigarette since someone made me drop my other one.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go back.” You agreed.

As you all made your way back to the front of the house, the trickle gave way to a light mist. The comforting smell of raindrops hanging on the cedar trees enveloped your senses; bringing with it a unique kind of serenity. The radio was still going strong. Bo leaned up against the staircase and lit another cigarette from the pack he’d thankfully left behind from the mud war. Vincent sat on the top stairs with Jonesy, starting to wipe off her paws with an old rag from the porch. Lester popped inside the house to grab his sweet tea before returning outside and descending the stairs again to make idle conversation with Bo. You were sitting in silence next to Vincent and Jonesy, taking it all in.

Your attention was pulled to the radio as a different song started up. You recognized it. It was that old Paul Simon song ‘Kodachrome.’ Far too serendipitous to be ignored. You jumped up from your seat and ran back inside for your camera, none of the boys concerned with your disappearance. You came back to stand in the doorway and pointed your camera at the brothers.

“Everyone say: Cheesy, Crappy Photos!” you chirped. They all looked up at you. Bo with a half-annoyed, half-amused glance. Lester beaming with an enthusiastic wave. Vincent content and comfortable, sitting with Jonesy pulled up in his lap. With an infamous click, your camera printed out the picture and you set it face down by the others on the pool table. You returned to sit back on the porch, camera still in hand. The Paul Simon song echoed through the summer air.

Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So mama, don't take my Kodachrome away

Well, unlike Mr. Simon, you didn’t have Kodachrome film or a Nikon camera, but you did have a Polaroid and a fire under your ass. Maybe you were romanticizing this whole thing too much, maybe these photographs wouldn’t mean a thing, but you didn’t care. Moments like these deserved to be remembered in color, for all they’re worth. Bo, Vincent, and Lester deserve to have good days that they want look back on. If there was a chance just one photo could give that to them, you had to try.

So, if a picture is worth a thousand words, there were a billion things you were going to tell them.

#house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #house of wax #slasher imagine #my writing #lester sinclair #tw: cursing #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #kodachrome #female reader

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misteria247 · 3 years

Text

Forgotten

Chapter Three

WARNING: The following chapter has swears and a few mentions of alcohol. If this makes you uncomfortable then I encourage y'all to check out my other works!

~~~~~

The truck drove through the night, the driver humming softly to themselves with the radio. Tonight had been a rather strange night for them, after having something hit their truck and seeing nothing around other than broken tree branches, rocks and other natural things the driver had been a little bit spooked ever since. Now they were even more desperate to get home, to get back to the city and away from the creepy woods.

"Soon I'll be back in my shitty apartment and away from this bullshit."

The driver grumbled to themselves as they continued the long journey home. After a good ten miles or so the familiar shapes of old houses and gas stations started to show up again instead of trees. The human sagged a bit relieved to see the familiar landmarks when the sudden dinging from truck startled them back into their once tense position. Eyes scanning the dashboard they finally landed on the gas meter and the human cursed.

"God damnit...I need gas."

They growled driving the old truck towards a gas station nearby. Pulling up to the pump they parked the truck and turned it off, searching for their wallet. Once found the driver got out of their truck and slammed the door shut before making their way towards the building.

~~~~~

The sound of a door slamming shut was what woke him up. As silent as a grave and on high alert, he peeked through the holes of the tarp that kept him hidden and blinked rapidly at the sudden bright lights that blinded him. Once the specs of color and darkness were out of his sight he took in his surroundings and bit back a swear.

'Civilization, I stayed too long in the truck. I gotta get out of here before I'm caught.'

He thought in a slight panic before forcing himself to calm down.

'Okay think, is there anyone who could see me? Are there any cameras?'

He looked back through the holes in his tarp and saw no one in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief before looking for any cameras. Seeing that the truck was parked far enough away he took a deep steadying breath.

'Keep calm, stay focused. Move swiftly, stay to the shadows. That is the true way of the ninja.'

The thought rang through his head leaving him slightly confused.

'Ninja? Why would he know the way of the ninja?'

He didn't have time to ponder the questions as he had a time limit. Not wasting another moment he sprang from the truck bed as quickly and quietly as he could bolting for the trees that were still around. Once he was safe under the cover of complete darkness again and out of sight of any humans he relaxed.

'You did well......my.....'

He blinked in a sudden daze as a soft voice echoed in his mind. A voice that sounded familiar yet unfamiliar. It made him feel something, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

It made him feel safe.

Shaking his head to get rid of the whispered voice he continued to run until he was out of sight of the gas station. He didn't know exactly where he was going but he knew better than to stay around here. He'd find some other way to get to a city, he just had to think. Thankfully he wasn't seen, the last thing he needed was for angry humans to go after the freak.

~~~~~

"What.....the.....fuck....."

The driver breathed in stunned shock and disbelief. They'd had just gotten done paying for their gas and had stepped out of the gas station building when they'd seen it. Something big running in the treeline before disappearing. The driver could barely make anything out but they could have sworn that they saw something green.....almost like skin......

The driver didn't stick around long after that too terrified already from the night's events. Filling their truck they quickly hopped in and sped out of the gas station lot. Zooming down the road the poor drive didn't look back, instead focusing on getting back to the city. They nearly cried tears of joy when they saw the familiar sign signaling that they were almost there.

New York City, five miles ahead.

"Finally, jesus I hate nature and I hate whatever the hell that thing was."

They said in a spooked tone speeding down the road until they'd finally hit city limits.

~~~~~

New York was a rather crowded city. Filled with people of all walks of life and all kinds of backgrounds it was a melting pot of anything and everything. It was the place where you could thrive in the hustle and bustle of fast living. The city that never sleeps, always awake in some way twenty four hours a day. It was a hectic lifestyle but it was how things were. And wherever hectic things occurred there was bound to be someone who sees it. It was the perfect place for someone who worked in the news to find great stories.

It was a perfect place for people like April O'neil.

April was a rather smart woman, working for big companies and finding the latest scoops to sell to the huge news media stations, she had a keen sense of finding things out that others could never dream of finding. Because of this natural talent April had been the first one to discover the secret of New York City. The secret that protected the city and its inhabitants from unknown dangers and kept the shady groups of people and other criminals off the streets.

The Turtles.

April's precious family. She hadn't meant to find them, it'd been an accident if she was being honest. What started off as one of her normal routine information diggings it'd ended up with her finding out some rather dangerous information involving an underground group that had wanted to destroy the city. Long story short she'd been saved by these mutant turtles and the rat mutant known as their father and master and taken in when she'd needed protection. After that April O'neil became inseparable from them. She'd ended up fighting alongside them in their dangerous battles against all kinds of enemies such as The Kraang, The Purple Dragons, and even their family's most dangerous enemy, The Foot Clan.

Over the years April fought with them and helped them out in anyway she could. She did everything within her power to keep the turtles and their father safe. They were her family and she loved them dearly and the feeling was mutual. Perhaps that's why April had been one of the people who took what had happened the worst out of all of them mentally. Perhaps that is why to this very day she pushed herself for her boys as hard as she did. Perhaps that is why she was currently in the place she was in now. The bar was crowded tonight, filled with all the drunkards and other unsavory types of people who drank away the night with booze and other alcoholic beverages. The red head was seated at the bar station, her stool scooted away from everyone as much it could go as she listened to the gossip and information that was passed around by its inhabitants.

As she stirred her coke, she'd heard a voice speak up from a nearby table.

"I'm telling you guys! It was some kind of monster thing! I saw it with my own eyes!"

A person exclaimed in a somewhat panicky manner, their eyes wide. One of the men sitting at the table with them just laughed.

"Really? A monster? Ya sure you weren't seeing things?"

The man mused before taking a sip of his beer. The person huffed looking slightly irritated.

"I wasn't seeing things.....no one could imagine something like this."

They said sounding a bit unnerved. That caught their companion's attention as well as April's who was quietly tuning into the conversation.

"This thing....it.....it was big....! And it moved so fast! I couldn't make out much of it but I could make out that it....it had...."

They paused seemingly shaken up recalling it. The man grabbed their shoulder and gave them a little shake.

"What?? What did it have???"

The man demanded sounding a bit irritated and on edge.

"It had green skin......I swear to God.....it was green like.....like some kind of frog or lizard or something like that I don't really know but I do know one thing. It....it wasn't natural...."

They finished off. The man meanwhile just stared at them in shock.

"Jesus Christ...."

The man breathed. The conversation seemed to die down for April who sat on her stool frozen dead in her spot. Her bright blue eyes were wide with disbelief. She didn't think about what she was doing next as she suddenly stood up from her stool and made her way to the table that was near her and quickly shot out.

"This gas station, where was it??"

She nearly demanded the poor person who jumped at her sudden appearance. The person blinked before they responded.

"Uh the old gas station outside of the city right before you come into its limits. About five miles out-Hey lady where you going?!?"

The person exclaimed baffled but April was already gone from view. She quickly left the bar, her mind racing a mile a minute.

'There's no way....it couldn't be.....it's been four years.....!'

She thought trying to think about it logically. It just wasn't possible not after.....April slowed her pace down on the sidewalk as she remembered the sobering moment that ruined her and her family's lives four years ago. The one moment that broke up an entire family and effectively broken their spirits. April felt her throat tighten as she thought about the turtles and their father. How they'd mourned and grieved still to this very day. It just wasn't possible.

'But what if it's really him....? What if it's really truly him....? If there's even a small chance that it could be him.....I have to know. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't go and see if it's really him....'

April's thoughts whispered brokenly. She had to know, she had to see if what this person saw was really the one she and the boys believed was gone. With a determined fire that she'd thought had long past died April began speeding up her pace again, her blue eyes alight with something she hadn't dared to entertain since the incident four years ago.

Hope.

With a practiced motion she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her cellphone ready to call the turtles when she paused.

"I can't bring them into this, not without knowing if it's really him or not. If it was just something that the person imagined...."

April mumbled softly. The red head knew that if she got the boys involved and it'd ended up not being him......

It'd most likely destroy the family even more than it already was.

"But I can't just go alone! I might need backup! Ugh but who can I call-"

April stopped mid rant her eyes going wide as another person popped into her mind. One who she knew for sure would go with her. Scrolling through her contacts she finally came across the familiar number of the one person she hadn't spoken to in a good while. Pressing the call button she patiently waited for the phone to pick up. After a few short rings it finally picked up.

"Casey, it's April. I need your help."

*Three parts in the span of a few days hot damn I'm on a roll y'all and it feels hella good!!! I'm lowkey pretty proud of this part and I'm just having a blast writing for my boy Leo and this premise that I've got going on. Hopefully y'all are having a blast as well!!!! Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

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scribbling-stiks · 3 years

Text

Retrievers - II - Broken Glass

Russia sits at America's side, smiling softly. They sit side by side at the largest table beside the bookshelf, and Russia finds himself glancing back toward the book. The colored paper catching his attention.

Russia returns his gaze to his bowl when America suddenly elbows him. Russia looks up, a little startled, and America looks back with a mischievous smile. Russia scowls playfully and pecks America on the cheek, causing America's face to turn bright red.

America looks back down at his bowl, his face contorts into a pout. Russia smirks and goes back to eating, contently watching the activities around them. Kids talk and the countries were invited into groups of states and provinces. Russia sits back and enjoys the company.

Russia finishes, clears his space, and sits beside America, watching him laugh. Russia finds himself staring with what he's sure is a dopey smile. America turns and meets his eye, and Russia looks away, feeling embarrassed, one hand covering his mouth and cheeks.

America leaves to clear his space and Russia gets up to follow.

America settles on the couch and Russia sits next to him, but not for long.

America pulls Russia down, and Russia lays back, his head and shoulders in America's lap. Russia stiffens a little. America gently rubs Russia's chest before his hand trail up to Russia's hair. Russia relaxes at the tender fingers brushing through his hair. He closes his eyes and leans back, more than happy to receive the affection.

America's hands gently slide over Russia's ears, and Russia breaths deep. Russia feels calloused fingers brush his cheeks, and he smiles.

A warm, static-y feeling fills his head, and Russia forces himself to relax in America's arms.

Russia lets his mind wander.

Then something catches his attention and pulls him from his warm bubble of safety.

Sound.

Russia keeps his eyes closed, and he listens as the sounds around him start to get louder and clearer. It's still muffled by America's hands, he could hear. The tinnitus was still there, but the sounds around him return.

Russia hears America laugh.

'I can hear you.'

Russia feels tears leak from his eyes. His smile grows and his bottom lip quivers. America moves his hands. America brushes away the tears without question. America shifts and places a feathery kiss on Russia's forehead.

"It's okay," America says, and his voice rising above the ringing.

More tears fall and relief shakes Russia to his core.

'I'm okay.'

America pulls Russia up onto his chest, and Russia opens his eyes, looking through tears at the ceiling. Laughter spills from his mouth and tears trace his cheeks. America kisses Russia's temple and hugs him securely.

Russia sits up, and America lets him. Russia turns around and smiles brightly, ignoring the tears that trail down his face.

"America..." Russia says, "you..."

"Russia?" America asks, his eyes wide.

Russia grasps America's face and leans in, pressing his forehead on America's. He looks into America's eyes.

"I can hear you," Russia mutters.

It strange, not hearing his own voice, but it didn't matter. He knew the words he said, and America's expression made it worth it.

America's eyes shine. America tilts Russia's head up and kisses him before latching onto him, giggling in Russia's ear. Russia laughs and hugs him back. America pulls back and begins bouncing in place, flapping his arms and laughing, a huge grin spreading across his face.

Russia beams. America begins to ramble to him, his hands flying around with excitement.

"I can't believe that worked!" America rattles off, "You-! And now we can talk again and..."

Russia sits back, listening to every word. He pulls his legs up onto the couch crosses his legs, watching with a smile.

Then America hops up and grabs Russia's hand. America pulls him up and Russia stumbles to his feet. America drags him upstairs to their room, and Russia runs after him, holding his hat and laughing.

America shuts the door and hops onto the bed, bouncing up in the air, his mouth running a mile a minute, telling stories and running off on tangents.

Russia sits beside him and laughs when he's bounced up by America's dancing around.

But soon, Russia finds himself glancing out the window, the ominous calling of the darkened path stealing his attention.

"Russ?"

Russia's head jerks a little and he spins around to meet America's gaze.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was just wondering what you're lookin' at," America says, poking his head around Russia's shoulder.

"The path outside," Russia admits, and America glances at him curiously.

"What about it? You wanna go down there?"

"Something isn't right about it."

America hums and takes furtive looks at the trees as they sway in the wind.

"I gotta say -as much as I don't really want to- you're right," America says, brushing his hair back with his hands, "I've been getting weird vibes from it too if that means anything."

Russia nods and stares out at the worn dirt walkway. Then America throws a jacket at him.

"I know you're 'Mr. Winter', but it's better to be safe than sorry," America says, pulling a jacket of his own.

Russia gives him a questioning look.

"What? We're gonna go check it out, see what's going on," America says, "Come on."

Russia sighs.

'Is this a good idea?'

America waits in the doorway with an expectant look.

'I should probably go in case something happens.'

Russia stands up and pulls the jacket on. America cheers and runs out of the room. Russia runs after him, a small smile on his face.

"Don't leave without me!" Russia shouts from the second flight of stairs.

"I will if you don't hurry up!" America shouts back in a playful tone.

Russia tries to scowl, but a smile forces its way onto his face. He bounds down the stairs and slides to a stop in the kitchen where America is connecting a handheld radio to the larger receiver set up on the counter.

"Hey, are you two going somewhere?" Delaware asks, leaning against a bar stool.

"Yup," America says with a nod, clipping the radio to his hip, "we're gonna go out and check out the back path. We shouldn't be gone too long: half an hour, an hour at most."

Delaware nods before directing his gaze to Russia.

"So I hear that your ears are working again. Can you hear me?"

Russia nods with a smile.

A smile breaks out across Delaware's stoic face.

"Congrats man!" Delaware says before looking to America, "But Dad, seriously, watch the time. We will come looking if you're not back by 7:00."

America sighs with an exasperated look, which Delaware returns.

"I can handle myself," America says.

"I know Dad, I know. But please, just... be careful. We already lost you once with this whole thing," Delaware says, his expression turning sad.

America sighs and walks around the bar. He grabs Delaware into a side hug and ruffles his hair.

"Daaaaaad!" Delaware exclaims, pushing America away.

"I looooove you too, Del-bear," America teases before letting go, "but for real kiddo, I'll be fine. We aren't going too far and I'll have Russia with me if anything happens. 'Sides, I also have a radio if all h**l breaks loose."

Delaware scoffs, "Okay, okay, but you didn't have to mess up my hair!"

"You say that like you style it at all," America teases with a chuckle before turning around, "Come on, let's go."

Russia follows America outside but feels weird being empty-handed. He spots the recycling bins by the side of the house and gets an idea. He turns and starts walking toward them.

"Hey Russ, whatcha doing?"

"I'm going to get something."

"Oh. Okay."

America follows behind him and Russia digs through the glassware until he spots what he's looking for. He smiles and picks up the empty liquor bottle.

"Stand back," Russia warns, swinging the bottle back by its neck.

Once America backs up, Russia smashes the bottom of the bottle. It scatters glass shards into the bin and grass. Russia picks up the pieces he can see and tosses them into the bin.

"Hey! Who all is back there?" Georgia yells, sounding annoyed.

"It's just Russia and I, sweetie," America calls back as Georgia pokes her head around the corner.

Georgia sighs and the annoyed look vanishes. She then disappears back around the corner and Russia hears the back door close. Russia spins the bottle around in his hand a few times.

"This will work," Russia says, examining his work.

"Cool. Now let's go," America says, taking Russia's hand.

Russia rolls his eyes a little at America's excitement, but he smiles none-the-less.

'He's cute.'

But as they approach the opening, his smile drops. The unwelcoming feeling radiating from the tree line gets more intense. Russia readies the bottle and tightens his grip on America's hand.

"Are you ready?" America asks.

Russia nods, and they walk into the shadowy depths.

"How far does this go?" Russia asks, scanning the growing shadows for threats.

"I'm not too sure," America admits, sounding on edge, "it's not too long, but you'll have to ask Dix if you wanna know the specifics."

Russia nods.

Russia's hair stands up, and he stares around. Their walk slows to a crawl, and America summons his scythe. Russia searches for anything out of the ordinary when a spot of red catches his attention.

It's high in the trees and surrounded by shadows. Then it blinks and disappears, and the branches that were behind it suddenly became visible.

Russia tenses and pulls America behind him, releasing America's hand. They stand back to back without a word. The sunset casts a dull light around them, and America's magic glows.

Then the ground under his feet begins to shake. Russia stairs around when his eyes catch movement. Then a deafening noise rings out.

'A siren. But why-?'

America grabs his hand and begins pulling him back toward the house.

~ Next

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#rusame #ch russia #ch america #statehumans #countryhumans

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