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moriartyluver · 3 months

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ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER II

"THEY SEEMED LIVELY," An emerald eyed young man chuckled

Herder shook his head with a sigh "Too lively," He said in a thick german accent "They always come here to mess around with the instruments. In fact I can probably count on one hand how many times those delinquents have bought anything."

"Delinquents? I believe you've caught my attention now, Herder." Albert smiled as the German walked over to where William's piano was, ready to check through it by the young man's request.

"Well, for what they lack in basic respect for finely crafted instruments they make up for in being interesting," He said as he opened the large piano.

It had taken quite a while to get to Q's but William had insisted that it be taken there, rather than being operated on at home. William had told his older brother he didn't want his mother finding out something was wrong with the piano or else it may ruin the surprise he had planned for her birthday.

"They didn't seem that interesting." William scoffed as Albert narrowed his eyes at him "I mean, they were rather rowdy over a mere guitar, I don't suppose they have any hopes for their futures, causing disruption like that."

"I'm sure you wouldn't care for the disruption if it weren't in your presence." Albert said harshly

"Mm.. they are quite ambitious, especially that girl, (Name)." Herder hummed as he peered inside the piano, inspecting the keys mechanisms carefully. "She believes she's going to be the next big thing, a rockstar if you will. Her skills aren't too bad either but she did mention that she was struggling without an experienced manager to guide them, she is just a child afterall..."

If his interest hadn't been piqued already, it certainly was now. An idea had sprung to mind, but Albert was unsure as to whether he could bring it up without meeting this supposed band first. Besides, he already had alot on his hands with all the businesses his father had left him.

"You've heard them play?" Albert asked

"Indeed. Just a few small bits though, but they do performances on occasions, although I refuse to go." Herder said, feeling around the inside of the piano "Personally I prefer Jazz."

"So they're just some wannabe rock band? As expected of them," William sighed "Everyone thinks they can be a musician nowadays, I blame tiktok."

"Aha!" Herder exclaimed in satisfaction "I see your problem now. This key was disconnected, that's why it was making such dreadful noises." He said as William peered into the piano from beside him, watching as Herder explained it to him.

"Alright, can you fix it?" Asked William

Herder nodded with a smile. "Give me five minutes and it'll be as good as new."

"Thank the lord," Albert muttered in annoyance "You wouldn't mind telling us more about this band?"

"What more is there to say?" Herder asked rhetorically as he pulled out a tool and began fiddling around in the piano "There's 4 of those trouble makers, especially the bassist and the backing guitarists, always breaking instruments and refusing to pay for them..tch..the drummer is alright but he doesn't exactly fit the image for their little band. I think the others consider themselves as anarchists of some sort, but that drummer of theirs sticks out like a very well behaved sore thumb."

He continued as he tinkered with the piano "Actually I think yesterday was the first time (named even bought anything here..a little red electric guitar. A fine piece for an aspiring rockstar. She said she came back to get the amp that came with it," His little German accent echoing within the piano walls "But personally I think she was just looking for someone she saw yesterday..probably took a fancy to him."

"I could care less about some garage band.." Albert's younger brother huffed, crossing his arms "Aren't you done yet?"

"Looking for who?" Albert asked curiously

"Oh none other than your little brother..the William with more yellow-y hair." Herder finally stood up straight with a smile as he shut the piano "It seems that is all." He said, turning to Albert "I'll have it delivered back immediately, boss."

Albert nodded, placing his hand on William's shoulder while they left through the door. "Yes, thank you again Herder."

'..I wonder what her name was..'

Pale, nimble fingers pressed down on black and white piano keys, prompting an elegant tune in it's wake.

'She did say she had a band..didn't she?...what did she say they were called again..?' The blond attempted to recall, reminiscing on the encounter, only a day prior.

The melody of piano echoed through the halls, the same few keys being played repeatedly to replicate the same bridge over and over - almost obsessively- like a broken record. It was as if he was trying to summon a ghostly image of her his thoughts, shutting his crimson eyes to visualise the memory. By now, he had been playing so quickly, not missing a note, that the once beautiful song had turned sour while his fingers moved robotically.

Faster.

"William!"

DUNG

William winced, both at the sound of the dull note he had mistakenly hit, and because his younger brother was calling out to him from behind, a concerned frown on his face.

"Louis?" He whispered softly, turning to face him on his seat.

"Are you alright, brother?" Louis asked, fiddling with the frame of his glasses "I was trying to tell you to quiet down, but you weren't answering me-"

"Good afternoon," Albert smiled, entering the large estate with his other brother while the others by the piano turned to look at him, smiling politely. "Was Will playing Tchaikovsky again?"

The dirty blond pulled a face, a mixture of confusion and disgust while William and Louis greeted Albert upon seeing him enter.

"He has." Louis stated "All day."

"Ever since yesterday afternoon, you've just been coming back to that piano, haven't you?" Albert chuckled "And swan's lake of all things?"

The older William scoffed, moving past the brunette "He's been doing that since yesterday? How weird can you get..." he said, furrowing his eyebrows

Of course, his brothers were unaware of the encounter that he had had the day before, so they hadn't understood the significance that swan's lake held.

"It isn't that much of an issue, brother." Louis said reassuringly "But I'd prefer a calmer environment to study.."

"I, I apologise.." William spoke "I've had a lot on my mind, that's all."

Albert furrowed his eyebrows, approaching his brothers and leaning against the wooden piano. "That's rather typical of you."

"Yes, well I'm always thinking." The blond said, his lips thinning in a frown.

"About university perhaps?" Albert said, raising a brow curiously. "I don't blame you for being nervous of course, it's quite a change and it's less than a couple of months until freshers week at Oxford."

"Still don't get why you wanna study maths," The other William chimed in as he held his phone in his hand, scrolling aimlessly through some social media app. "I mean Oxfords cool and all but what do you even do after that? Become a teacher?"

The older William, Albert's biological brother, had been studying finance and marketing at King's college London university for the past 2 years, and in October, he was to return for his third and final year. Afterwards, he secretly hoped to work for the Moriarty family company, lead by Albert following their father's passing.

"If Will likes maths then I don't see why he shouldn't do it," Albert glared at his little brother. "He's good at everything, but maths is his passion, and he's pursuing it for that reason, unlike some of us."

Chestnut coloured eyes looked up from the phone screen to the side of Albert's head "yeah well I don't think you liked business management much either,"

Louis let out an 'ahem', cutting between a potential quarrel between the two brothers.

"I'm not worried, Albert." The blond William reassured "In fact, I'm rather excited."

"I should hope so..honestly you could have gone a couple of years ago if it wasn't for the admissions board." The brunette sighed "Anyways, we fixed the piano and mother will be here in a bit to take William home, because he can't drive." Albert said, putting his hand on the dirty blond's shoulder

Offended, the older William turned to Albert, glaring with his mouth agape. "I'll have you know I have my provisional license!"

"Not enough to drive."

"I don't have my driver's license," Louis said in attempt to avoid conflict once more.

Out of all his brothers, he was likely the most sane. Albert was possibly an insane alcoholic who almost smiled when he heard his father died, the older William had a strange imposter syndrome which he disguised with narcissistic tendencies and the younger William didn't even use his real name and probably had a bookshelf fall on his head when he was a kid leading everyone to think he was autistic or something.

"That's because you're barely 17," The younger William said.

"Oh well forgive me for being too busy to do the test because I was preoccupied after the divorce because I was practically the only one there for-!"

The door swung open once more.

"Mother?"

"William?" A dirty blond middle aged woman greeted "You and Albert are here early." She turned to the younger William and Louis by the piano "Other William, you're here too. Hello, Louis." She smiled, giving Louis a wave.

"Hello," Louis stood up straight from leaning against the piano, as his brothers followed.

"Mother, hi." The dirty blond William said, somewhat surprised "Thank goodness you're here. I think I was starting to lose it. This one," He pointed his thumb to the other William who was still sat beside the piano. One could compare him to a little sad puppy. "Has been playing Tchaikovsky all day apparently."

"Don't be rude William, I'm sure it sounds lovely," Mrs moriarty furrowed her eyebrows, then turned to her other son "Albert, how have you been? I've heard you've made a few more investments."

Albert nodded as Louis left to make some tea "Just a few more shops, nothing too major...although I've considered an entertainment agency, but that's yet to take off." He said "How have you been mother?"

Previously, Albert, as well as his adopted brothers, didn't have the best relationship with Mrs Moriarty. After years of being married to the psycho she called her husband, it had made her a much different woman. She became constantly paranoid about her husband leaving her for another woman (even though she didn't like him much at all) or afraid her children were constantly in danger.

At one point, she was convinced her second son, William was being bullied when he was in primary school because he had a bruise on his leg and ended up screaming at his teacher so hard she cried.

Following the divorce though, that same William had convinced his mother to get therapy and ever since, she had been getting better, slowly but surely. She didn't even seem that affected by the death of her now ex-husband last year.

"A lot better than I was this time last year," she said with a melancholic smile. "Congratulations by the way," she turned to William "Attending Oxford in the autumn...it's quite the accomplishment. It's a family tradition amongst the Moriartys..of course there would be no shame in not following it, traditions are meant to be broken in a time like ours, but I say it's the best place for a boy like you."

William, who had often been treated coldly by Mrs Moriarty, before she started going to therapy, seemed a little surprised at the passing compliment. Even after she had started getting better, it was rare that Mrs Moriarty would come visit Albert, let alone her two adopted sons and they had only recently called her 'mother' for the first time too.

Louis began to walk towards the kitchen "I'll get you some tea, mother,"

"Thank you Louis, two-" she started, cut off by Louis who flashed her a smile

"Sugars and green tea, I remember." He said, leaving the large lounge.

Once Louis had finished brewing Mrs Moriarty her tea as well as for his other brothers and himself, they had all sat in the lounge, somewhat awkwardly until the older William made some comment about his plans for his final year

"I'm rather excited for the second term," he told his mother. "I wonder if Colombia is as big as Kings..I used to get lost all the time when I first started."

"Are you sure you even have the capabilities to study abroad by yourself?" Albert asked as he placed his teacup down on his saucer "And you'll be studying with the fourth years too..doesn't that trouble you?"

Albert had just graduated a couple of months ago and was already swarmed with work, he didn't need to worry for his little brother getting lost in a city he barely knew.

William was to go on an exchange programme in January to New York, which was quite the challenge for a boy who could count the number of nights he had spent away from home on one hand. There wasn't any particular reason for it, but his two adopted brothers both suspected it was because Albert was to do the same until the abrupt death of his father in his second year. Since then, he'd only ever taken care of his fathers affairs (financial, not romantic...Albert wasn't a predator after all)

"I'll be fine, I'm not a child." He frowned "I'll be there until Easter and then return back to London just in time for finals and graduation."

"I think it's a good idea," Louis spoke, "In fact, I'd like to go a year abroad myself when the time comes..it does foster independence after all."

"Indeed," The younger William agreed, picking his teacup up "Sometimes you don't necessarily need to be ready to step outside of your comfort zone."

"Well said," Mrs Moriarty smiled "University is the best opportunity to do so..in fact, that was how I was introduced to your father," she said to her two older sons.

Cue another awkward silence.

"My, would you look at the time," Albert looked at his Watch-less wrist before being nudged by Louis. He promptly fixated his gaze on his other wrist. "I should be going to bed soon."

"At 7pm?" William raised an eyebrow as he looked to his mother in disbelief "how old are you, Albert, eight?"

"Well I-"

"Brother has a long day ahead of him tomorrow." William said calmly, standing up "he has to wake up at 4 am tomorrow morning to prepare for a meeting at work..it's a rather important one too."

He wasn't lying. Albert had a packed schedule tomorrow from travelling all the way to York for a meeting then back to London by midday and then to his office for another few hours to finish up on some projects, then he had a colleague's , a big stakeholder, wedding to attend as well as going shopping for a new suit and all that with barely any breaks in between.

"Ah, my apologies, Albert," Mrs Moriarty said sympathetically "Come along, William. We must be going now if you want to finish buying your back to school essentials tomorrow..we have a long day ahead of us after all, of course not as much as Albert's.."

"Bye then." William sighed and got to his feet, reluctantly saying his goodbyes as he left with his mother.

For a moment, the three brothers stood in silence, the memory of Mr Moriarty death washing over them, before Louis eventually spoke.

"I'm going to go revise.." He said quietly, slowly leaving the room as Albert let out a teasing remark.

His green eyes twinkled mischievously "Why exactly were you playing Tchaikovsky, Will?"

William looked down, his long hair covering his face slightly, "I just remembered, I have something to do as well." He murmured following his brother out of the room.

"If you say so," Albert chuckled, watching his brother rush off, uncharacteristically flustered.

A/N: Mr moriarty fucking died 🤣🤣 deserved L + bozo + skill issue. bro u guys have no idea how hard it is to write a scene with the Moriarty brothers. Like I’m losing it with the two similar names and shit. Also to those of you who thought I’d make Mrs Moriarty dead or an abusive bitch, you thought wrong!! She and the og will are alive and getting the therapy they deserve!! If anyone gets mad at me for this, just say you don’t like character redemption with actually evil characters 🙄 anyways less about these stupid rich mfers, next chapter is focused on (Name) and her band of brokies

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #—are you mine 🎸

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛 𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 !

ꗃꠂꠥ riding his thigh while he‘s playing guitar feat. childe dckz rockstar!au x fem! reader

ꗃꠂꠥ warnings: nsfw

"Ah ah ah." childe, who‘s fanning his finger in front of your face right now, smirking at your almost desperate expression, "you didn‘t cum yet, did you?" if you‘re being honest, he was a fucking asshole, always making sure that you know who‘s in control and who‘ll always remain in charge. "Okay, how about this." he stopped mid sentence for a second to retract his thigh so it‘s placed even better under your glistering folds.

"if you manage to cum without me helping you out, i‘ll reward you afterwards, 'kay?" the guitar in his hands was threatened to fall off his hold once you wiggled yourself on top of his lap, throwing your arms around his neck for additional support, nodding as a response which he was very delighted to see. Childe, —who never once looked away from you— tapped the guitar on his other thigh with his bony fingers, slowly proceeding to focus on his practice which you knew he only did to punish you. It‘s not like he had to practice now, right? Yet he took his time today so he could see you struggle against him and also have the perfect excuse whenever you mewl into his ear, begging him to help you out with the little problem between your thighs.

Childe‘s bangs were falling messily across his face and decorated his natural features greatly, while his arm —that was kindly enough to give you at least some sort of stability— was clinching like burning metal against the soft flesh of your skin, tinkering over his guitar with a rather intriguing look on his face. Truth be told he was as horny as you were right now, gritting his teeth with the sole purpose of punishing you for giving his band members a lot more attention than usual. The feeling of your glistering folds rubbing against his leg was almost unbearable now, he wanted to touch you just as badly, feeling your warm skin under his needy fingers.

Your legs were already sore, you’re trying your hardest to get off on his thigh but you just couldn‘t reach your climax without his help. Your exposed clit dragging against the raw material of his pants, —which had you seeing white— though it just wasn‘t enough anymore. You grew desperate and groaned out annoyingly at him, —your pouty expression only for him to witness— haltering your movements to give your legs a break. Though that was when childe decided that it was finally enough, placing his guitar on the floor faster than you could process to circle his strong arms around your sweaty body.

You gasped out greatly once he practically dragged you against him, "Childe, please." you cried, not really sure what you were begging for right now, only thinking about some sort of relief. At this point anything would do, really. Fuck, he was so hot right now, he cursed himself under his breath because he really just wanted to simply enjoy the view but he couldn‘t live another minute without touching you and twirling your skin, feeling your warmth becoming one with his own. With that he retracted you a bit further into his lap, so that you were now directly brushing against his painfully hard erection with your bare cunt that was glistering with your slick.

You heard childe breath heavily against the shell of your ear, pushing you closer against his neck while dragging your pussy over his cock, —staining his pants— not that he seemed to mind of course, it‘s almost as if he wanted you to ruin him. "Fuck." you‘re bucking your hips harder, childe using your body to make you climax already, grinding you down harshly against him in order for you to release your juices all over him. You wanted, no needed to show him just how needy and desperate you were for his touch right now.

Reaching over his hair to tangle your fingers into his strands, pulling his head down so you'd meet his lips with your own, kissing him starvingly. "Come on baby, cum for me, cum on my pants." he’s saying that with a wink, his warm breath coating your swollen lips, dark eyes meeting your half lidded ones as he grinned at you in an almost satisfying tone. It only took him a couple more times of grinding you hard against his pulsating cock that made you release your juices over his pants, completely ruining them, but fuck how much he loved seeing you cum. How you scrunched your eyes shut, mouth agape and moaning out screaming with those cute aftershocks that ran through your body afterwards.

Your strength left you at once as you dropped down against his toned chest, lazily nuzzling your sweaty face into the nook of his neck, your nostrils being filled with his expensive cologne that was so unbelievably arousing again. "You did so good." he coed against your ear, his hand finding refuge in your fucked out hair and massaging your skull lovingly, chanting soft praises against your face. <3

ꗃꠂꠥ DCKZ rockstar! au series.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #childe x reader #childe smut #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader smut

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some-pers0n · 1 year

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The Sound Between Notes

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Medic, Engineer

CW: Needles, injection (I swear to god it's not bad but still there's a warning for it--)

Summary: Engie, sleep deprived and exhausted as can be, hears the gentle sound of a violin playing through the base. Curiosity gets the better of him and he investigates.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: The idea of this oneshot has been haunting me for months and I finally had the motivation to write it. Fingers crossed that I'll still have the motivation to write the next chapter of my fic soon. I really wanna get back to that... Oh, I also crossposted this onto Ao3 last night. If you'd like to read it there instead (or ya know swing by and read my other stuff), that'd be really nice of you. Anywho, enough rambling, here's the silly oneshot.

The Engineer would say he was pretty used to the madness of his teammates. I mean, he'd already been here a couple of months now, so surely he must have adjusted to it. Anywhere from Sniper and his collection of piss jars to Pyro just...being himself, it was obvious that none of them were exactly 'normal'.

But, what he didn't expect to hear was the sound of music echoing through the halls.

He had been tinkering around with his designs for the dispenser, trying to finalize it and get a good grip on building it, when he heard it. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks. It was quite late and the effects of getting little-to-no sleep over the course of several days was getting to him. Who would've thunk that was not the smartest idea?

But, as time passed, it became clear that it wasn't just in his head. He could hear it. It was traveling through the vents. While it was just barely audible, he could still vividly hear the notes. Someone was playing music. Not just any old music either. It wasn't Demo playing a little tune on the piano or Scout playing his Tom Jones record.

Rather, Engie could make out the very distinct sound of it. The shrill, yet elegant melody it produced. There was no doubt in his mind: that was a violin.

Naturally, he was curious. What could compel somebody to get up at whatever time it is right now and play such...admittedly beautiful music. Even if Engie was more of a countryman, preferring his guitars, banjos, and fiddles, it'd be a lie to say he didn't appreciate the grandeur of other instruments. So, he caved in. He placed down his wrench and walked out of the door.

Now in the halls, he just wandered around. There was no way that this went unnoticed by the others. Perhaps they were asleep or were simply not bothered enough to investigate. Either way, it was somewhat eerie. The empty labyrinth of the base before him, with only the sounds of his footsteps and breathing to duet the violin. He followed the sound, guided towards it like a moth to a flame. He had to see who was making it now. As he did however, it became more and more appropriate just who exactly this mystery musician was.

The music was getting louder as he went further in. He turned the corner, peeping down another hallway. This time he was met with a pair of doors, with a dull neon red sign displaying the words 'INFIRMARY' positioned above. The frosted glass made it impossible to see through clearly, but he could see a dim light from the inside.

There was no doubt in Engie's mind that this is where the source of it was. He chuckled lightly, smiling to himself. Of course. It should've been his first thought to assume it was Medic.

Yet, he didn't want to go back to the shop. He came out all this way just to see what this was about. He couldn't just not go in. He carefully walked towards the door, hesitating for a moment. He listened to the notes, now being able to hear them much clearer. The somber, yet hauntingly peaceful melody that came forth from it. But, despite this, he knocked, interrupting the piece.

Instantly, the violin stopped. Engie felt his stomach drop a fair bit. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to intrude on the Medic of all people, even if they are partners.

Moments later, he heard rushed footsteps approach the door. It unlocked and opened up, revealing the man himself.

"Mein Gott, can't you people see that I'm–" Medic cut himself off upon seeing Engie. He wasn't wearing his work uniform, but rather his light brown waistcoat and white dress shirt. A bright red tie that was ever so slightly wrinkled was tied around his neck. His eyes, bright and blue as they may be, held a tiredness to them. The oddest thing about him however was how his hands were uncovered. His precious scarlet red gloves were removed, showing his delicate hands.

"Hey, doc." Engie tipped his hard hat. "What are you doing up so late?"

Medic glanced back into his room. "I'll assume that you came because you heard that, no?"

"Nah, just wanted to drop by in the middle of the night and watch you sleep. What else?"

He paused. "...that was a joke, ja?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

"Yeah, just messing with you. I was working when I heard your...violin? It's a violin, correct? So many of these darn stringed instruments."

Medic smiled back. "I was playing my violin, that's correct. I couldn't exactly sleep and neither could the birds. So, I figured why not play a few songs to tire both of us out? They love the music and I get some peace of mind."

"They ain't the only ones who're fans of your violin either," Engie said. "Honestly, I thought I was in some orchestra with you playing. Even through the vents, it sounds just amazing." He looked up at his partner. "You don't mind if I stay and listen for a minute, do ya?"

Medic's eyes perked up. "No, not at all!" He grabbed Engineer by the hand, practically pulling him inside. The nice thing about Medic is that you can always tell when he's happy about something. It was cute and endearing, making him almost forget how he was staring at a deranged lunatic.

"Thanks, doc." Engie grabbed a chair and sat down. "I didn't know you played music."

"I haven't quite found an excuse to break out my violin yet," he answered, fidgeting with the tuning pegs. "Neither with my piano or accordion."

"Accordion?" He echoed. "How the hell you managed to learn that?"

"Tradition. My mother insisted I learn these instruments as soon as I could. I was a prodigy that outclassed several adults by the age of six."

"Gee, aren't you special?"

Medic gave a playful smirk in return. "I've been on and off since then. I prefer the classics as opposed to ragtime and blues, as many would prefer. I know you'll like those better as well. I simply don't care."

"Pff, no?" Engie snickered. "I've just never quite got a chance with classical music. Sounds...different. Should be obvious though, considerin' how it's...ya know."

"You don't have to explain yourself, mein Partner," he said. "It's already flattering to have you sit and enjoy my music, despite me being rusty."

"You call that rusty? That was great, doc! Of course I'd have to swing by after hearing that."

Medic's smile shifted into a smug grin. "Well then..." he muttered, clearly enjoying the admiration and praise.

"What song were you just playing then?" Engineer asked, trying to steer things back on the right track.

"Oh, this?" He brushed his bow across the strings, hastily playing a couple of notes. "Just some Paganini."

"...who?" he asked. "Never heard of him."

Medic scoffed. "I'm not surprised." He slowed down, readjusting himself. He rested the violin on his shoulder and arm, going back to playing a slow tune. "Niccolò Paganini was an Italian musician. He's written quite a number of works, most of which are impossible."

"How can a piece be 'impossible' though?"

"He had exceptionally large fingers that allowed him to–rather absurdly in my opinion–play three octaves over four strings in a single draw of the bow."

The Engineer's expression must have been confused as Medic quickly chuckled. "It means that he wrote music that only he could play." He rocked on his feet. "Quite an impressive artist as well. Though, he's known mostly for his deal with the devil."

Engie leaned back in the chair. "So, he made some deal with the devil? What for? Already had big hands, what more could a guy want?"

Medic's expression shifted. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice. He shook his head and continued before the Engineer could answer. "I wouldn't know the validity of the claim. I recall once asking a demon about it when I was sacrificing some poor sod. They just brushed it off. Quite rude, don't you think?"

"Weren't you talking to an actual demon?" Engie inquired. "Be surprisin' if they were actually...well, concerned about your question."

"Mh, good point. Still, if a man has a question, it should be answered. Nutzloser Dämon..." he cursed. "But, that is his tale. A man who played with such skill and talent that others believed him to have dealt with the devil."

"Can see why you like him then," he said.

"Hm? Oh, well, yes. I do suppose there's an aspect of that to him I can relate to. Although, I'm unsure if he was a mercenary." He laughed. "But, I still do find his pieces to be quite beautiful. This was one of his more energetic pieces: a revision of Liszt's 'La Campanella'."

Medic took a small inhale and drew his bow. In an instant, his fingers darted across the instrument. Engie looked in awe as he graciously played the instrument. In his left hand, the bow glided on the strings, quickly making sharp, yet dainty notes. In his right, it supported the violin, with his fingers pressing down on the right strings to form the correct chords.

It was beyond words, most because Engie's sleep-deprived brain couldn't quite fathom making any up to describe it. The melody was just about hypnotic, despite the intense speed. He could listen to it forever. Just a heavenly melody, a blessing upon his ears that've heard nothing but gunfire and screaming for weeks. He closed his eyes for what was only supposed to be a moment, but found the darkness comforting. He kicked his legs up on the table and folded his arms in. He let out a deep exhale before finally allowing sleep to take him away.

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

At last, he was finished with the piece. Five or however many minutes of just nonstop playing a very challenging song. But, he survived.

He bowed. "Thank you, my hard hatted friend. Deine Anwesenheit war sehr notwendig."

To his surprise, no response. A disappointing considering how much effort he put into that. Did the Engineer just not find it that entertaining?

He looked at his partner, awaiting some sort of feedback. Anything from him clapping or even a simple remark. Yet, nothing. It wasn't until Medic looked a little closer that he saw what was happening. Engie's breathing was deeper and more relaxed. He was...snoring.

"Ah, you've fallen asleep," he said, walking over to inspect him. "Well, at least my music did something, even if it was to lull you to sleep."

He quietly watched him, contemplating things a bit. For one, even if he looked comfortable, a chair is certainly not a place to sleep. Maybe it was how he came to his 'concert' of sorts, but Medic didn't want to leave him asleep on a chair. How he was set up, with his legs kicked up on the table, didn't exactly look the most comfortable.

...fine. Maybe Medic could do something.

His first instinct was to sedate him. Then again, his immediate thought upon seeing anybody asleep is to sedate them so that they're–for lack of a better term–easier to work with. For one, he could pick up Engie and not have to worry about waking him up. It would also ensure that he'd have a nap longer than half an hour. If anything, shooting him with god-knows-what would be a favor.

He walked over to one of his trays, picking up a bottle. It was hard to see in the dark, but he was sure that it was one of his anmestics. Well, it could also be lethal poison, but let's not think about that. It probably is the correct vial. He took a possibly clean syringe and plunged it in, taking a healthy dose of the toxin.

"Now then..." he muttered turning back to the Engineer. "This will help you, mein Partner," he said, giving Engie a little pat on his hard hat before sticking the needle straight into his neck.

No reaction from the Engineer as he did so. Not even a slight change in breathing. Still breathing. That's a good sign. Means he's not dead. Being dead is bad, correct?

Medic hovered around the Engineer in silence, waiting a minute or two just to see if he was fine. After deeming that, yes, he didn't seem to be dying, he smiled. "Alright, now what?"

Truth be told, he didn't think this far. Usually when he sedates a person who's asleep, it's to then experiment and steal their organs. He couldn't quite do that with Engie, mostly because he was out of organs and...quite frankly didn't feel like rearranging his small intestine for the hell of it.

But, he couldn't just leave Engie on a chair. That's uncomfortable. Medic had slept in quite a number of them in his life. He was familiar with the back pain that would come in the morning.

Then, he realized something. The most obvious solution: carry him to a bed.

Medic smacked himself in the head. "Of course! Why had I not thought of that already?" he laughed to himself. He wedged his hands under the Engineer. One to support his back, the other to carry his legs.

"Eins, zwei, drei!" On three, he scooped him up. An easier feat than he thought, seeing as Engie was only around two hundred pounds. His body was warm and almost...comfortable to hold.

"Alright, now..." He was about to head to the door, ready to carry him across the entire base and back to the workshop before stopping himself. He had a bed right in this infirmary. A week ago, he cleared out an old storage room and remade it into a bedroom.

It was close and Medic knew it was cozy in there. A king-size bed with heavy blankets and a heavenly soft mattress. However, it was his bed. He didn't want to give it up, at least not without seriously considering it. Medic valued comfort. He liked his bed.

But...maybe just this once, Engie could sleep in it.

He swallowed his pride and walked towards the room. He bumped into the door, opening it up. He approached the bed and plopped the Engineer right down on it. He then pulled the blankets over him, tucking him in.

"I swear to god if you even so much as tell a single soul about this..." he whispered. "Just this one time, ja? And only because you fell asleep to my violin."

No response. Engie was peacefully snoring away without a care in the world. Medic couldn't help but feel a smile stretch across his face. He knelt to Engie's level and caressed his face. He then patted him lightly. "Gute Nacht, Herr Engineer."

He stood back up and walked to the door. Taking one last looked before closing the door. He was still somewhat confused, mostly by his own feelings and emotions. He was partners with this man, yes, but he never...cared about another human being this much.

It was definitely odd. But, that was a thought for another night. He's tired, and now he'll have to sleep on one of the operating tables. A small price to pay for Engie to get a decent sleep. Just this once though.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #science party #engiemedic #medic tf2 #engineer tf2 #somepersonswriting #SP-writing

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 10 months

Text

Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty. (Chapter Eleven)

Summary: This is Part Eighteen of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, pre-Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mild Injury, Swearing, Characters Working Through Trauma, Repairing Relationships, Fluff, I Swear There are Funny Bits Along with the Emotional Bits

A/N: IT'S FINALLY DONE!!! OH my goodness, what a beast. I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I figured you would all murder me if I broke into two chapters again. Next time I get the genius idea to smoosh two installments into one, someone around here better be the voice of reason and remind me of this monster installment.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Karaoke wasn’t exactly Ed’s thing. At least, not without a considerable amount of booze in his system and he didn’t do that anymore.

The bells and whistles of the screens grated on his senses. He preferred tinkering with a song on his guitar. The act of creating something. Making a connection with the sound.

Despite all of that, he had to hand it to Beau. The guy had managed to cajole, tease, and flirt his way through getting every member of their one hundred percent sober group into the experience.

Charming bastard.

Now all six of them were yell-singing Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas very badly, but with a whole lotta enthusiasm.

Maybe bringing him along wasn’t such a mistake after all.

He thought for a hot minute at the bar that it was—with the way Beau was poking at Mouse to the point Ed almost intervened—except he could see the moment it changed and Mouse turned toward Beau and seemed to be listening to whatever the heck the guy was saying to him.

Mouse had still been quiet after that, but it was more thoughtful than brooding and he wasn’t nearly as tense. Ed was keeping an eye on him. He wasn’t about to let all of their hard work keeping him level fall apart.

Which meant he was keeping an eye on Jay too.

Ed felt for the guy. He knew what it was like to get yourself so turned inside out that every move you made only twisted things further until you couldn’t breathe.

Path like that always had collateral damage though and he was going to keep doing what he could to make sure Mouse didn’t take any more hits.

Seeing them both smiling was an encouraging sign. Ed was pretty sure they were going to find their way through and hopefully patch things up with this Bex girl along the way.

Their support group had been hearing about her for ages and everyone was rooting for her and Mouse. They should have known the two of them getting together wouldn’t be an easy feat. Not when Mouse carried as much baggage as the rest of them, if not more. But despite very rocky roads, everyone in their group had found their own happily ever afters eventually.

Convincing Mouse he could too seemed to be an on-going mission. One that would hopefully get easier now that Jay wasn’t throwing up road blocks.

From everything he’d heard, Bex was rightfully pissed about how things went down, but she also didn’t sound like the kind of person to give up. Not on Mouse. Not yet.

Luckily for him.

They just needed a few more days to help work on what he wanted to say and boost his confidence up as much as they could. And then carefully plan how to approach Bex. He was about ready to call the group back in and he figured they could help take it over the finish line.

“Ed!” Beau called out, breaking through his thoughts. “Your turn to pick a song!”

He ambled over to take a peek at the song book. “They got any AC/DC?”

Their hour flew by and Ed considered it time well spent. Mouse had been isolating himself to a concerning degree and Ed was happy to sacrifice a lot little dignity if it meant getting him back to his people.

Once the room was squared away, they headed out and ran straight into a giggling group of ladies in the hall. Ed excused himself and moved back to let them pass only to walk back into a unmoveable wall of bodies behind him.

“Guys, manners,” he grumbled. “Move back a bit.” He was about ready to get an elbow going if need be when Jay finally spoke up.

“Bex? Cindy? Sergeant Platt?”

Well, hell.

***

Bex

The karaoke bar was amazing.

No shade to karaoke at Molly’s, but having your own room to dance around and be a total dork?

Best thing ever.

They’d gone through an epic medley that started off hot with Laura Branigan’s Gloria and ended with What’s Up? by 4 Non Blondes.

“We have to do this more often,” Cindy exclaimed as they were packing up. “Ladies’ night! Once a month! What do you say?”

“I’m in,” Trudy said with a little grin. “Might have to scale back a bit unless Bex wants to provide another fraught romantic entanglement for everyone to bet on.”

The four of them stared at her for that.

“Too soon?” She nodded to herself. “Yeah, no, that’s fair.”

“We could always get some bets going on your wedding,” Bex suggested, shooting a Trudy a cheeky grin and skipping out of the way when she swatted at her. The four of them spilled out into the hallway, giggling up a storm, with Trudy on their tail—

And bumped into the last group of people she expected to run into at Rhonda’s Karaoke Bar.

A gruff looking gentleman with long brown hair nodded at them and stepped back, motioning for her group to move past, but he ran into a wall of shocked guys behind him.

Beau, Will, Connor, Jay, and Mouse were standing there staring at them; the looks on their faces probably mirrored the one on her own.

“Guys, manners,” the guy grumbled. “Move back a bit.”

Bex felt another giggle travelling up her throat. One slightly more hysterical than the last.

This was too surreal.

“Bex?” Jay finally burst out. “Cindy? Sergeant Platt?”

“It’s a karaoke bar, Chuckles,” Trudy said. “It’s not like you ran into us in the middle of some den of iniquity. Calm down.”

With a jolt, Bex’s own brain finally came back online and she looked between their two awkwardly closely pressed groups. “Right, uh, so I don’t think everyone here knows each other,” she said. “Um, Cindy, Donna, Trudy, and Emery.” Bex gestured at her own group before pointing at the guys. “Jay, Will, and Connor, you all know, but this is Beau Taggert, and I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

The long-haired gentleman reached out to shake her hand, firmly, but gently. “Ed,” he said. “Ed Spencer.” Oh. From Mouse’s group. He smiled at the recognition that must be sparking in her eyes. “Nice to finally meet you, Bex,” he murmured.

Like he’d heard about her.

Oh, god, she was definitely blushing.

She looked over at Mouse which only made it worse. “And, uh, this is Mouse,” she said. “And now you all know each other which is great. Are we heading out?”

Where was the freaking exit?

“I have to say that running into such a beautiful group of ladies is the perfect end to our evening,” Beau said stepping forward. He offered his arm to Trudy with an exaggerated flourish. “May I escort you to the parking lot?”

Trudy stared at his arm before turning back to their group. “What is this? Is he for real?”

“Yeah,” Bex sighed with a little laugh. “He is.”

Beau wiggled his arm at her, standing at a half bow as he gazed up at her through his stupidly-long lashes. Trudy’s lips twitched as she fought a smile.

“Alright, Casanova,” she snorted, taking his arm. “Lead the way, but no funny business. I’m taken.”

They headed down the hall and Bex would swear she heard Trudy giggle.

Next Ed, stepped up and offered his arm to Donna. “Oh,” she said, taking it with a grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Cindy took a quick peek at Bex, narrowing her eyes for a moment and then nodding to herself. “Two for me!” she declared, abandoning Bex to loop her arms through Will and Connor’s and follow Donna toward the exit. The two of them barely had time to look back at her as they were dragged away.

Emery poked at Bex’s side subtly, inclining her head in question.

Are you okay being left with Mouse?

Something that was clearly part of Beau’s plan to begin with. One that everyone else seemed to think was a good idea as well.

Even though her heart was pounding, Bex nodded. This was a good little test run.

Being friendly.

Just Mouse and Bex.

Being regular friends again.

Easy peasy.

“Ahem.” Emery held her arm out to Jay. “May I escort you to the parking lot?”

A startled laugh burst out of him as he took a quick look back at Mouse who gave him his own tiny nod.

Looked like they were both being brave today.

“Uh, sure,” Jay said, taking her arm. “Thanks.”

The two of them walked away, each taking a turn to do a super obvious peek back to double check even when Bex flapped her hand from her hip to wave them forward.

Finally, it was just Mouse and Bex in the hallway.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Bex panicked and said…

“’Sup?”

***

Mouse

Bex slapped a hand against her face and groaned. “I mean, hi, hello, whatever,” she mumbled into her hand.

Mouse wanted to hold her so badly, he ached.

Instead, he reached out and carefully tugged her hand away. “I heard about what happened,” he said. “How are you?” Even though she was wearing make-up and the lighting was dim, Mouse swore he could make out the two marks on her cheek. The ones Kim had shown him in that video.

The ones that asshole had left.

“I’m fine, really,” Bex said, quickly. “Jay was—he jumped in, you know? I mean, you’ve seen him. He definitely took the brunt of it.” She shrugged and looked away, not elaborating anymore than that.

He wasn’t sure he had the right to push so Mouse let it drop, still itching to take her in his arms until he knew for sure she was really okay. His gut churned though, hating the fact that he hadn’t been there for any of it. Grateful that Jay was. And then circling back around to hating the fact he hadn’t been there for Jay either.

Ed had told him repeatedly not to take that guilt on, but…

They were still his people. His family.

Bex’s lips quirked up in a little smile. “How, uh, how have you been?” She slowly started walking toward the exit and Mouse fell into step beside her. Wondering if he could offer his arm.

“Got roped into a wild guys’ night out,” he said instead and she laughed, warming him.

“Oh, right,” she said. “Trudy mentioned she gave you a slice of the bet money. I can’t believe how huge that pot was!”

“How big was it? She gave Jay a hundred bucks,” he said, curious to hear exactly how far the whole thing had gone.

“Enough that we had a spa night and dinner out,” Bex said, holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers. “Manicures and fancy dessert.”

“Wow.” Mouse’s eyebrows winged up. “Everybody really invested in that bet, eh?”

“Well,” Bex shrugged. “There was some fun money thrown in there too since they felt bad…”

Because he’d fucked it all up.

“Because they crossed all kinds of lines and got overly invested,” Bex said, reading his face perfectly. “Not that boundaries are really a thing that exist with our friends?” She bumped elbows with him, ducking her head to catch his eye which had been trained on the faded carpet.

Pick your moment, Ed had said.

Be honest, Chris had said.

Don’t hesitate, Jay had said.

Every step was bringing them closer to the exit. Closer to parting ways.

Maybe now was the moment? When he could be honest and try to put it all into words. Try and explain and get them sorted out and finally—

“You know, I’m glad we bumped into each other,” Bex said.

Mouse’s head whipped up to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bex nodded. “I wasn’t sure what it would be like, but I think—I think we can do this.”

“Do, uh, do what?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

Bex reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Be friends still.” She smiled at him, sad around the edges in a way that had Mouse’s breath catching in his throat.

Friends.

Still.

Say something, he screamed at himself. Just say it.

She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and reaching for the door. “We better get out there before they leave without us,” she joked. “Who knows where Beau’s trying to convince them to go at this point.”

“Donuts,” Beau’s voice carried through the doorway as she headed outside. “Like you wouldn’t believe! Works of art. Come on; they’ll be half price by now.”

“No, you maniac,” Bex called out, heading toward the group. “Some of us have work tomorrow and beds to get to.”

“Is that an invitation?” Beau cackled and Bex’s started hassling him back, but her voice was no match for the buzzing in Mouse’s ears.

Why didn’t he say something?

Mouse gripped the door tight, cursing himself, before leaving the bar to join the group.

***

Bex

Bex was still shaking a finger at Beau when Cindy declared it time to actually go. “It’s been a lovely night, but I’m beat,” she said.

Everyone started to say their goodbyes when Jay sidled up next to Bex.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I know you said you wanted time and I’m not trying to—I just, um—do you want to come over to my place tomorrow? I can make you dinner and maybe—maybe we can talk? A bit?”

She looked up at him, his face full of nerves and hope and bruises, and found herself nodding. Apparently, she was being brave across the board today. “Yeah,” Bex said. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” Jay lit up. “Okay, yeah, great, that’s great. Uh, six pm work for you? Good, good. Don’t bring anything, okay? I’ve got it all covered. Just bring you. Okay. Good. Thank you.”

Bex chuckled a bit, nodding along with his rambling. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.” Jay’s grin was blinding.

Their two groups separated after that and Emery and Cindy both came to link arms with her as they walked back to Trudy’s SUV.

“Okay?” Cindy asked.

“I have no idea,” Bex said breathlessly. “But I think…I think we’re getting there.”

“Proud of you,” Emery said, snuggling into her side.

She was proud of herself too.

Up ahead, Donna was humming and doing a little shimmy. Soon the humming turned into singing. “Gloria, you're always on the run now…”

“Running after somebody, you gotta get him somehow,” Trudy continued.

Emery picked it up next. “I think you've got to slow down before you start to blow it.”

“I think you're headed for a breakdown, so be careful not to show it,” Cindy sang out, a little off, but with feeling.

“You really don't remember,” Bex sang, laughing as Emery and Cindy threw their arms out on either side of her. “Was it something that he said?”

All five of them started singing the next part together, dancing as they got into the vehicle and kept the party going at top volume all the way to Chris and Cindy’s.

***

Will

He watched Bex and her gang dance and sing and laugh their way into Trudy’s SUV and smiled to himself. Kind of on the nose for a song choice, but seeing Bex and Emery laugh like that?

A sight for sore eyes for sure.

Turning back to his own group, he was met with another welcomed view. A grinning Jay who was also watching the ladies leave. The little exchange between Bex and Jay hadn’t escaped Will’s attention.

“All good?” Will asked as they headed for Jay’s truck.

“Not yet,” Jay said, smile dimming a bit before he nodded resolutely. “But we’re going to get there.”

Good. Will patted Jay on the back, mindful of his injuries, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. That was really good.

***

Mouse had been quiet all the way back to his place.

The bad kind of quiet again.

Ed waited until it was just the two of them in the apartment before breaking the silence. “What happened?”

“What always happens,” Mouse said bitterly, slumping down in the arm chair, dragging a hand through his hair. “I fucked it up.” He sighed, looking up at Ed with dull eyes. “I had the moment. I wanted to be honest, but I—I—I hesitated. I couldn’t get the words out.”

“What did Bex say?” Ed asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Mouse’s lips went thin as he pressed them together. “That she’s ‘glad we can still be friends’,” he said. “She’s moving on.”

“She said that?” Ed clarified. “Or is that an assumption on your part?” Mouse’s silence was answer enough.

“Listen,” Ed leaned forward. “This is good news. You need��to be able to be friends again. And being friends doesn’t mean you can never be more.”

Mouse rolled his head back against the chair, face drawn down in glum lines. Oh, he had it bad. Ed didn’t miss those days.

“You actually think I still have a chance?” Mouse asked quietly.

“I think you need to be able to talk to her and be honest with her in order to get it,” Ed said. “But yeah, man, I do.” He reached out to pat Mouse’s knee. “We’ll figure it out.”

And maybe call in reinforcements again in order to do that.

***

Cindy

The kids were in bed when they got home, miracle of miracles. Donna had left with Wallace and Mouch left with Trudy to take the girls home.

Now it was just her and Christopher.

“Did you have a good night?” he asked, sitting down on the couch with her and plopping her feet in his lap to give them a rub.

“It was…epic,” Cindy said with a laugh. “I think it was really good for Bex and Emery too to let loose in a safe way.”

“Ah, that’s good,” Chris smiled at her softly. “I’m so glad you did that. I say it every day; we’re lucky to have you, Cinds.”

Soon he was about to have a lot more of her.

She couldn’t put this off any longer. Okay. She was going to do it. Right now.

Oh, lord.

He made a little grumpy sound when she pulled her feet out of his lap and sat up on the couch.

“Christopher,” Cindy said, bracing herself. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Sounds serious.” His smile fell when she didn’t laugh back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m pregnant,” she said, words coming out of her in a rush. “I know we didn’t plan for this and it’s the worst possible timing with the plan for the bar expansion and we already have our hands so full—”

“Cindy.” Chris scooched closer on the couch and took her hands in his. “Honey, breathe.” His eyes went wide as he gripped her hands. “A baby?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Christopher,” she said, leaning into him and he rearranged them to put his arm around her and cuddle her in close. “A baby.”

“Wow,” Chris said.

“You’re not freaking out.” Cindy poked him in the side, feeling slightly miffed by that. “Why aren’t you freaking out.”

“I mean, I am a little bit,” he shrugged. “But we’ll make it work. We always do. It’s not just you and me here, you know? We’ve got a whole gang to support us.” He pulled her in tight. “One thing we always have enough of in this family is love and I already love this little bean.” Chris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you most of all though,” he murmured into her hair.

“Love you too,” Cindy said, enjoying the cuddle. She still wasn’t quite sure how they were going to make this work, but knowing that Christopher was whole-heartedly on board made it easier to start thinking about.

And he was right. They did have a whole gang. She could feel the truth of that, especially after tonight. They were going to be okay.

After a few minutes, her comfy resting place started trembling. She sat up, alarmed. Chris had his hand pressed against his eyes and his shoulders were shaking. Was it sinking in now? Was he overwhelmed?

“Oh, Christopher.” Cindy pulled his hand away from his face to find tears streaming down his cheeks.

But he wasn’t crying.

He was laughing.

“It was—it was my birthday, wasn’t it?” he gasped out. “In the van?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s when it happened.” Cindy slumped back against the couch with a groan. “My distraction technique got a little out of hand.”

“It was good!” Chris giggled, reaching for her again. “Great even. I think I could use another distraction right now.”

“Christopher!” She let him reel her in with a laugh, careful not to wake the kids. She’d earned a little distraction herself, after all.

***

Bex

The next morning, in the cold light of day, Bex was having second thoughts.

Maybe she’d agreed to dinner too quickly.

Maybe she wasn’t ready.

She was a pile of nerves all through her diner shift. Her manager almost sent her home after the third dropped glass, but she managed to convince them to let her stay. Waiting at home, climbing the walls until six pm would be even worse.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Jay. She did. She was willing to hear him out at least.

The problem was that she had no idea how it was going to go. This whole thing had caught her off guard and now she felt like she didn’t know what to expect from Jay. There was a part of her that didn’t trust that it wouldn’t all go sideways again.

Didn’t trust him.

Which was why she knew she had to go through with it, nerves and second thoughts be damned. Not trusting Jay was like…not being able to draw or sing. It felt wrong having something she’d always been so sure of taken away, leaving an open wound that ached more every day.

She wanted to be able to trust him again. Needed to. Needed him back in her life. And if that was going to happen, they had to fix this. Even if they had to do it one dinner at a time.

And even if it meant eating that much of Jay’s cooking.

So, yes, she was nervous as heck, but they were doing this. No matter what.

Bex made it through the rest of her shift by the skin of her teeth and then managed to get some panels for the book done when she got home as well. Which wasn’t that many when she was eyeing the clock the whole time, but whatever.

There was a nice little interlude when both Cindy and Chris were texting her. Cindy to say that telling Chris about the baby had gone well and Chris to cheer in all caps about it to her. They asked her to keep it quiet for now until they were ready to tell people which she understood. Cindy wasn’t that far along yet. Then Chris kept sending her videos of Mouch bopping around the station, humming Gloria, and getting mad every time he spotted the phone. Each one was punctuated by the sound of Chris cackling madly off screen every time he got caught.

It was a fun twenty minutes of keeping her mind off of things in any case.

At six pm on the dot, she was knocking on Jay’s door. Normally, she’d use her key after knocking and head right in, but that didn’t sit right. Not with how things stood at the moment.

Bex waited and knocked again after a minute or two. The faint sounds of cursing and pots clanging made their way through the door. “Coming!” Jay yelled.

He frowned lightly when he found her on the other side. “You have a key,” he said, baffled.

“I know, I just—I wasn’t sure,” Bex trailed off and Jay snapped out of his stupor.

“No, yeah, no worries,” he said, stepping back to let her in. “I’m glad you came.”

She hung her bag by the door and sniffed the air, ready to guess what he was making, but—

“Is something burning?”

“Shit!” Jay yelped and dashed off toward the kitchen, setting off another round of slightly concerning crashes and bitten off curses.

“Do you need any help?” Bex called out.

“NO! No, I’ve got it, thanks.” Another clang.

Bex pressed her lips together, not wanting to laugh at her brother’s very genuine attempts to make dinner for her.

“Okay,” Jay poked his head into the living room. “It’s ready now. You can come in.”

She followed him into the kitchen where the table was nicely set with carefully made up plates of what looked like creamy chicken penne (with slightly burnt chicken).

“What can I get you to drink?” Jay asked, poking his head in the fridge. “Wine? Beer? …I don’t have juice. Why didn’t I get juice?”

“Water’s fine,” Bex assured him. She was still working on detoxing her system, but Jay didn’t need to know exactly how much alcohol she’d already had this week.

He brought the drinks to the table and motioned for her to sit down, joining her when she did. “Okay, uh, dig in,” he said. “I hope you like it.”

It was surprisingly delicious, despite the occasional charred bit. Bex voiced her appreciation as she ate and they spent the meal talking about safe topics: Work, Will, and the Herrmann gang.

Jay cleared their dishes away after they finished eating and then reached for a container on the counter, pausing to tap his fingers on it for a moment before actually bringing it to the table.

“What’s that?” Bex asked, peering at the square plastic container. It was coloured blue so she couldn’t see inside, but the way Jay was biting at his lip was raising her suspicions.

“It’s, uh, it’s dessert,” Jay said, huffing out a breath as he pulled the lid off. He sat back after, waiting for her reaction.

Inside was a tidy pile of chocolate chip cookies. Not Pillsbury this time.

“Jay,” Bex said, picking one out of the container. “You made these?”

He nodded nervously and she took a bite. “Mm! They taste great!”

“Oh, good,” Jay whispered under his breath, relaxing finally. “That was my third batch,” he said sheepishly. “I ran out of ingredients after that one so I was hoping for the best.”

“Three? What happened to the—”

“Horrible things, Bex,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t even want to know. The first batch was a massacre. It’s been a long time since I tried baking anything from scratch and I was never as good at it as you are.”

She couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture.

“Well, you did pretty great with these,” she said, selecting another cookie and he did the same, looking pleased with himself when he took a bite. “How did you manage to make three batches of cookies and dinner all before six?”

“Voight let me cut out early,” he confessed. “I told him it was for you and it was important and he said yes, no questions asked.”

“Aw.” That was actually pretty sweet. “I’m going to have to send a new joke with you to tell him tomorrow as a thank you.”

“Oh. Sure. That, uh, that could be—”

Bex grinned at the constipated look on Jay’s face as he tried to wrap his brain around agreeing to that. He made a face at her when she started laughing.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she said. “You’d mess up the punch line.”

“Rude.” He pointed a finger at her and they both broke into giggles over that.

It almost felt normal for a moment. Until the laughter faded away and they both remembered why she was there.

Jay cleared his throat. “You want to sit in the living room?” he asked. “More comfortable in there.”

Bex doubted anything about this would be comfortable, but she followed him over to the couch anyway.

He sat at one end while she sat at the other and there was silence for a few minutes. Bex wasn’t about to start things off and she thought maybe he wasn’t going to either until—

“I’m sorry, Bex,” Jay said, leaning forward like he wanted to reach out and touch her, but holding himself back to give her space. “God, I’m so sorry for all of it. I never should have said anything to Mouse and gotten between the two of you.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head.

“After everything went wrong with Erin…again,” Jay sighed. “I was really messed up. I know—I know I should have talked about it, I just—I couldn’t. Everything hurt too much.”

She shuffled over a bit on the couch, she couldn’t help herself. Even as upset with him as she’d been, she hated to see her brother upset.

“I got it all twisted,” Jay continued. “I convinced myself that I knew better than the two of you and I was helping you. Saving you from the pain that I was feeling.”

“You don’t get to make those choices for me, Jay,” Bex said, proud of how steady her voice was. “Mistake or not, I deserved a chance to make that one on my own. Mouse too.”

“I know,” Jay nodded. “You’re right and for what’s it worth, I don’t actually think you two would be a mistake.”

Bex blinked at him, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you need me to list off the reasons?” He looked up at her and started ticking off points on his fingers. “You’re already great friends, you get each other’s humour, you like the same weird shows, you both love people like…down to your bones even if you show it in different ways and everyone says—” Jay sighed deeply. “I can’t believe you’re making me say this, but everyone has seen the spark and the connection between the two of you.”

Bex sat back. “Jesus, Jay.” She buried her face in her hands for a moment. “How can you—” She slammed her hands down, a burst of frustration at him running through her. “How can you say all of that now? After what you did?”

“Because I’m trying to be honest with you, Bex,” he said quietly. “And the truth is, that I saw all of that and it scared the shit out of me so I tried to make it into something else. Focused on other reasons to justify it all instead of thinking about the truth.”

“And what’s that?” This was what she was here for. To bleed out the poison so she was going to make him say it. Whatever it was.

“That I was going to be left alone,” Jay whispered, staring down at his hands. “Chris and Cindy have always been a unit. Will and Connor found each other. You, me, and Mouse, we were like our own little family within the family. I thought I’d always have you guys, but then I saw you circling each other and it was like…this is it. They’re going to pair off and I’ll be alone.”

A mess of emotions rose up in Bex and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack him or hug him. She got up from the couch so she wouldn’t do anything too hasty, moving to pace a bit on the other side of the coffee table.

Jay let her go for a bit before speaking up hesitantly. “Bex?”

She shook her head at him, arms crossed, and paced some more. Finally she stopped, coming to stand in front of him. “Ten years,” she exclaimed. “Ten years, Jay.”

His face crinkled up in confusion. “What are you—”

“Our parents robbed us of ten years of knowing each other,” Bex said, flinging her arms out. “Ten whole freaking years of being Bex and Jay. Brother and sister. Best friends. And I have spent every day since then trying to make up for that time.”

“Bex—”

“How could you possibly think I’d leave you alone?” She came over to the couch again and shoved him. “You are stuck with me, you asshole. Do you understand? You are never, ever getting rid of me and if you think me dating anyone would change that, obviously, we have some work to do on this relationship because that’s not who we are, okay?”

She hopped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around him, leaning on his back to rest her chin on his shoulder as she squeezed as hard as she could. “You’re such a dummy,” she muttered.

“Apparently,” Jay said with a sniff.

“I love you anyway,” Bex said.

“I love you too.”

“I mean it, you know,” she said, still squeezing him. “You’re not getting rid of me. Ever. I’m here until we’re old and grey. You’ll probably be bald. I’ll still be cute.”

Jay laughed.

“I’ll even let you die first,” she offered.

“Jesus, Bex!”

“I’m just trying to make you feel better,” she laughed as he shoved her away with a roll of his eyes. “Now who's rude.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand as she resettled out on the couch. “I’m really fucking sorry, Bex,” he said, the tears swimming in his eyes surprising her. “I mean it, I—however long it takes, I’m going to work on making this up to you. Making things better between us.”

“I know, Jay,” she said. “I believe you.” And because she did, she took a deep breath and said, “I accept your apology. New path, okay?”

“Hope I don’t run out of those,” he said.

“Impossible.” She was pretty sure that went against the whole philosophy.

“Thanks, Bex,” he whispered, grabbing her in another hug before sitting back and swiping at his eyes. “Ah. Okay. So, uh, in the spirit of making things better, I need to say something.”

***

Jay

“It’s about Mouse,” Jay said, feeling beyond shitty at how closed off Bex instantly got. Protecting herself.

“Mouse and I are doing okay,” she said, her attempt at sounding relaxed about it falling flat to his ears. “I think we’re getting back to being friends again. It’ll be fine.”

Jay sighed. Friends was good. Obviously, he wanted them all to be friends again, but that wasn’t all the two of them needed. It wasn’t what they deserved.

What they deserved was a real chance.

“I know I’m not really in the position to ask you a favour, but I’m doing it anyway,” he said and Bex nodded for him to go ahead. “When Mouse talks to you, please give him a chance. Listen to him.”

Bex frowned at him. “I am,” she said. “I have. We were talking last night, you were there. I meant what I said, Jay. We’re getting back to being friends again.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he sighed, shuffling around to face her fully on the couch. “I’m not the only one who…made bad choices because he was scared, okay?”

She stilled and he pressed on.

“So when he talks to you,” Jay said. “I’m asking for you to give him a chance and to listen. Will you do that?”

Bex stared at him, searching his face until he saw a small kernel of hope bloom in her eyes. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I—I can do that.”

Jay breathed out a sigh of relief. That was something. Mouse had to do the rest, but this was a start. At least they had a chance now. He hoped they would make the most of it.

He leaned back against the couch and grinned over at Bex. She smiled back, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him. Now that they’d made it through talking things over, Jay was relaxed enough to take a proper look at Bex and he wasn’t happy with what he saw.

The marks were still there on her cheek and she had dark circles under her eyes.

“Hey,” he said, getting her attention. “How are you really doing? With what happened the other night?”

She raised her eyebrows at the abrupt change in conversation. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m glad Ty’s in jail and I hope he stays there for awhile.”

From what Jay had been hearing, the odds were pretty good on that so far. The security video from Bex’s building had caught most of it and was pretty damning.

Watching it had made him sick to his stomach, but he wanted to see. Wanted to know they had enough on the guy.

“How’s your back?” he asked her.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she waved him off. “A bit bruised, but Will checked it out. I’m all good.”

Jay stared at her, seeing the mask for what it was. Now that he was paying better attention.

“I’m serious,” Bex said with a little laugh, poking him for his silence. “Jay, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Try again,” he said. “If I had to be honest tonight, so do you.”

“I’m. Fine.” She shook her head looking away.

“Bex.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Really, okay, I’m, uh, I’m—”

“Bex.”

She shook her head again, clenching her fists on her knees as she stared down at them.

“Please talk to me.” She couldn’t keep this all inside. It was definitely the worst of the Halstead traits she’d inherited. But it was a habit they had to break. All of them. “Please.”

“I was so scared, Jay,” she said, voice breaking. “I—I thought he was going to get to Emery. That he would kill her. Or me. Or you. And I froze. I couldn’t—I keep seeing it over and over in my brain and yelling at myself to move, to do something.” Bex scrubbed at her cheeks roughly.

“It was a scary situation,” he said, shuffling over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Freezing was a common reaction, but he didn’t think pointing that out would make her feel any better. The whole situation had scared the shit out of him too. Seeing Ty go after Bex like that. He’d replayed it in his own mind often enough, haunted by what could have been.

“And I was useless,” she burst out. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did—”

“I will always show up for you,” Jay said, feeling that promise in his soul.

Bex sighed. “You can’t promise that, Jay. You said it yourself, remember?”

He did, unfortunately. The Leon’s incident. Felt like a hundred years ago at this point, but he remembered the words he’d snapped out in anger. In fear. As much as he hated to think about it now, Bex was right about the truth behind them.

There had to be something they could do though. He hated seeing her like this. “How can I help then? What can I do to help you feel safe?”

She was quiet for a minute before she looked up at him. “I want you to teach me how to fight,” she said. “I know we had those lessons years ago and I know self defense stuff, but I need more.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I need to practice and really be able to handle myself so I won’t freeze again. Ever.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he agreed slowly. Training was why he’d been able to act. Part of fighting was muscle memory.

“Yeah?” Bex shuffled up on the couch, getting excited now. “You’ll teach me? I want to learn not just the regular moves, but like…how to fight dirty. In case someone like Ty ever comes at me again. I want to be ready.”

If Jay had his way, that would never even be a possibility, but he’d seen enough of the world to know the odds weren’t in their favour. And he never wanted Bex to feel defenceless ever again.

“I will,” he agreed. “I can round up some of Intelligence too so we’ve got a bigger pool of moves to learn from and you can practice fighting people who are different sizes and strengths.”

“Really?” Her eyes went soft with gratitude. “That—that would be amazing, Jay. Thank you.” She made a weird face after that. “Don’t, uh, don’t ask Mouse to help though, please.”

“Are you sure?” Jay had already been running through everyone’s strengths and weaknesses and starting a training list. “He’s actually really good with hand-to-hand stuff.”

***

Bex

Well, I really don’t want the first time we put hands on each other to be because I’m learning how to fight…

…was not something she wanted to say to her brother.

“I’m sure,” she said instead. “I don’t want to add that into the mix while we’re still figuring everything else out.”

***

Jay

That was fair enough. “I’ll get in touch with everyone else and we’ll make a plan,” he said. “Upton and Burgess could probably give you some more specific tips too for moves that will work for someone your size.”

Bex took a deep breath and let it out slow, leaning back like a weight had been lifted. “I’d really appreciate that,” she said. “All of it. Thanks, Jay.”

“Anytime.” He gave her another hug, smiling a bit when she started to get twitchy as soon as they let go. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” Bex squirmed. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel weird asking—”

“Hey, come on.” He poked her knee. “We’ve been doing great at this talking thing. Don’t quit now.”

She levelled a look at him and then brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight. “Do you really think Mouse and I still have a chance?”

He kicked himself all over again for the number they’d done on her. “I’m sure of it,” he said.

Bex didn’t look fully convinced and Jay bit back a sigh, pained by the words he was going to speak. But he’d promised himself he’d help fix this. No matter what. “Bex,” he said. “I swear it. He is still disgustingly into you, okay? Trust me.”

A small smile spread across her face. “Okay,” she said. “I trust you.”

There was a weight behind those words that settled something in him he hadn’t realized was still out of place.

“Hey.” She perked up. “Want to eat some more of those cookies?”

“Heck, yes.” He scrambled up off the couch and she chased after him, both of them laughing.

***

Bex

Friday was a dedicated work on the graphic novel day. She was off from the diner and Molly’s so the plan was to make the most out of the block of time she had.

Bex managed to get a few pages done before her brain started to get too squirrelly and she found herself baking up a storm in the kitchen instead.

Soon she found herself with six batches of cookies and no idea who they were for.

She eyed the peanut butter chocolate chunk ones currently cooling on the counter.

Well, one idea.

She picked up her phone, wondering if she should text Mouse. He was probably home from work by now. She could drop them off. That was friendly.

Bex was still debating when her phone started vibrating with an incoming call. Mouse.

***

Mouse

Not only was Ed still at his place when he got home, but the rest of the group was there too.

“Uh, hey,” Mouse said, setting his bag down, feeling the weight of five pairs of eyes on him. “What’s, uh, what’s going on?”

“Ed told us about your performance issue,” Ada began. “With Bex—”

“That is not how I phrased it,” Ed growled, pointing a finger at her.

She rolled her eyes and waved him off. “He said you had an opportunity to talk to her, but you couldn’t do it,” she said. “It sounded like a support group trouble-shooting sort of thing.”

Mouse bit back a groan. This didn’t feel like something they could brainstorm their way through, but at this point, it couldn’t hurt. He kicked off his shoes and joined them in the living room.

Ada shuffled over and made room for him on the couch. “What happened?” she asked. “I thought you were solid on what you wanted to say.”

He grunted out a laugh. “Yeah, I know what I want to say, but having her standing there in front of me, being all—” He waved a hand in the air.

“Love of your life shaped?” Lucy offered from his other side.

Mouse glared at her, but she just smiled sympathetically. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Okay,” Frank said, coming over to perch on the coffee table in front of them. “So maybe we need to rethink the plan. Scale it back.”

“Baby steps,” Lucy agreed.

“How?” Mouse rubbed at his forehead. “I can’t get anywhere with this if I don’t talk to her and—”

“Text her,” Chuck said from his spot in the arm chair. “You don’t have to say everything over text, but it would get the conversation started, right?”

“Not a bad idea,” Ed said, shrugging at Mouse, leaving the ball in his court.

What the hell. It was worth a try. He dug his phone out of his pocket and brought up Bex’s message thread. One that had been quiet for way too long.

Dear Bex

“I’m sorry,” Ada said, leaning over his shoulder. “But have you ever texted before? In your life? Because I have some serious questions and concerns.” She poked a finger at the screen. “What is this?”

“Hey—get—stop!” Mouse tried to move out of her reach and her hand hit the screen again. They both froze as his phone started calling Bex.

Sheer panic took over as he stabbed at the screen until the call ended.

“My bad,” Ada said when he scowled at her. “Let’s take another crack at the text thing.”

Everyone froze when his phone started buzzing.

“It’s Bex,” Mouse said. “She’s calling back. What, uh, what should I—”

“Answer it!” Five voices yelled out.

Oh, shit, right. Okay. He hit answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mouse, it’s Bex,” she said before hesitating a moment. “You called? I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…”

“Speaker,” Ada hissed at him from the other side. “Put her on speaker.”

He elbowed her back gently, but went ahead and did it because he knew he needed the back-up to get through this.

“Is someone there?” Bex asked, voice going tinny as it came through the speaker. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can go—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Mouse said. He gripped the phone tight, getting reassuring nods from Frank and Chuck. “My, uh, my support group is here.” He shot a look at Ada. “Some of them are being more supportive than the others.”

Bex made a funny, little considering noise at that. “This is a weird question, but are there five other people in your group?”

The others looked surprised and Mouse nodded before he remembered he was on the phone. “Yeah, why?”

“Cookies,” she said simply. It was an answer the confused the heck out of everyone else, but made Mouse’s heart do a warm, slow flip.

Cookies. Of course.

Only Bex.

Oh, she was talking again. “…so, everything’s okay?”

“Actually, I—” A flood of encouraging gestures from the group spurred him on. “I wanted to talk to you. About—about us.”

Bex took a sharp breath. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that too.”

Good. That was good.

Mouse swallowed, feeling everything he wanted to say fighting to get out, but it was all so much. Too much.

“You have to actually say something, bud,” Ed whispered from across the room.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry—I want to—I just—I don’t know how to do this, Bex, but I want to, I do, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, it’s okay, hey,” Bex’s soothing voice came out clear, quieting any help from the rest of the group. “Mouse, listen, I have an idea…is it okay if I come over?”

Five bobbing heads nodded furiously at him.

“Yeah,” he croaked out. “Please.”

“I’m on my way.”

***

Bex

Bex juggled the six containers of cookies in her arms and took a bracing breath as she knocked on Mouse’s door. It flew open to reveal two ridiculously beautiful women, one tall with brown hair, the other shorter with blonde.

“You must be Bex,” the brunette said warmly, holding the door open so Bex could step in. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“We’ve heard good things,” the blonde said with a wink.

“Nice to meet you too,” Bex said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the welcome and searching her brain for names she was pretty sure Mouse had never shared. “Um…”

“Oh, I’m Lucy,” the blonde woman said before pointing at her friend. “And that’s Ada.”

“And who’s this?” Ada asked, leaning down to let a very politely waiting Kol sniff her hand.

“That’s Kol.” Bex laughed as he instantly laid down and rolled over to receive more pets. She maneuvered her way past him, letting him enjoy pats from both ladies and was met by Mouse, Ed, and two other men.

“Hey,” Mouse said softly.

“Hey.” She offered the containers. “Pretty sure these belong to you guys.”

The cookies were received enthusiastically as Bex was greeted by Ed and introduced to Chuck and Frank. Ada and Lucy joined them with Kol and they were soon exclaiming over the containers of cookies as well, shocked that Bex had somehow brought all of their favourites.

Mouse shot her a tiny smile and she grinned back.

“Was this the idea?” he asked her.

“No, no, you know that had nothing to do with me,” Bex said, waving a hand at the containers and ignoring the confused looks from the others. She reached down to pick up Kol’s leash. “I thought we could go for a w-a-l-k?”

“A walk?” Mouse repeated, facing scrunching up adorably and Kol immediately started barking, doing a little dance.

“Yes, a walk,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Which now you have no choice about because you said the word.”

***

Ed watched them leave, sending all the good energy he could, hoping Mouse could stick the landing this time.

“I like her,” Ada said around a mouthful of lemon cookie.

Everyone else murmured noises of agreement and Ed nodded. Fingers crossed they were headed for a celebration when Mouse got back and not another clean-up.

***

Bex

They walked in silence for awhile, Kol trotting along between them.

Now that she’d reached this part of the plan, Bex wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Should she say something? Or wait for Mouse to start? How long should she wait before it got weird?

Kind of felt like that deadline was fast approaching…

Come on, Bex, she pep-talked herself. The whole point of this was to talk to him so get the ball rolling.

She looked over at him, catching him in the same moment he was looking over at her and they both blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Mouse stopped in his tracks, head jerking back. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I pushed,” she said, trying to put words to the guilt that had been lingering behind the hurt and the sadness. “Maybe too much, too fast, I think. I know we weren’t anything yet, but I—”

“Hang on, no, wait.” Mouse shook his head. “Not doing this on the sidewalk,” he muttered to himself, looking around. He spotted something down the road and grabbed her hand. They jogged across the street with Kol and then Bex followed Mouse, his hand warm around hers, until they ended up at the entrance to a little park.

She stilled.

Remembering the last time they were in a little park together.

Mouse stopped too and she could see the moment it hit him. He let go of her hand and scratched the back of his neck, wincing a bit. “Is this okay? It’s okay if it’s not, we can go, I can find somewhere else—”

“No!” She didn’t want them wasting anymore time. “This is good,” she said. “It’s nice.”

“Okay, that’s—that’s good.” Mouse nodded to himself, squaring his shoulders before leading the way over to a picnic table sitting in the shade of a large maple tree. He sat down and she joined him, leaving a bit of space between them that Kol quickly leapt up to take.

Mouse chuckled at him, threading his fingers through Kol’s fur before looking up at her, face falling into serious lines. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Bex,” he said. “But you’re wrong about one thing. We might not have been anything yet, but we were going to be and we both knew it.”

Bex didn’t know what to say to that. It was one thing hearing it from other people, but hearing it from Mouse…she’d never been so happy and so crushed all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Bex,” he said. “I freaked out—”

“Because of Jay,” she sighed. She might have forgiven Jay, but the sting of his actions hadn’t faded quite completely.

“Not just because of Jay,” Mouse was quick to correct her. “It was—” He rested his head against Kol for a second and muttered to himself.

“Mouse,” Bex began. “We don’t have to—”

“No.” He looked up, eyes wide. “We do. I do. I just need to get this out so, uh…”

Bex zipped her lips with a nod and he huffed out a laugh.

“Okay,” Mouse said and Bex braced herself, willing to hear whatever he had to say even if she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

***

Mouse

Mouse looked at Bex sitting across from him, patient and kind, and he hoped, god how he hoped.

That everyone was right about this.

That being honest with her could help fix things.

That it wouldn’t break them even further.

He didn’t know how much he could actually bring himself to share today. How much would be too much, but he was here—they were here—and he was going to try.

“We were headed toward something,” Mouse said. “And I freaked out.” He kept petting Kol, not confident at all in his ability to keep talking if he had to watch Bex’s reactions at the same time.

“Before I met Jay,” he continued. “My life—I didn’t have much in it. Nothing—nothing real, you know? And then we met and all of a sudden, I had a best friend. And it was amazing.”

Kol head-butted his chest and Mouse realized he’d been slacking on the pets. He picked it up again, letting the repetitive motion smooth the way for the next part.

“When we got back, he never gave up on me,” Mouse said, remembering how dark those days got. How he begged Jay to let him go. How Jay refused. “One day, I got to meet you in person.” Mouse smiled to himself at that memory. “And then I found myself with not just a best friend, but a—a family.”

He took a shaky breath. “That was—you don’t know what that meant to me. It was more than I thought I’d ever get and I was so happy. I was grateful. I should have left it at that probably, but—”

Mouse shook his head, feeling the pull all over again. Leaving it at that would have been impossible. It was. Even now.

“But then you—with you,” he said. “I started seeing all of the things I never thought I’d have and I wanted them, Bex. I wanted it so much.” He cleared his throat after his voice broke, giving himself a minute.

Bex’s hand twitched like she wanted to reach out and he almost flinched away because he didn’t think he could finish this if she did. She made a small noise instead before whispering. “Kol. Cuddle.”

The dog gave a soft little ‘boof’ before leaning against Mouse and flopping into his lap, snuggling in. Mouse wrapped his arms around him and gave him a squeeze, sending a quick, grateful look at Bex.

She nodded with a small smile even though there were tears in her eyes.

He forced himself not to look away this time. “The idea that I could have everything,” he said. “And that I could have it with you…”

It had been so big and so real and Mouse couldn’t—

“I couldn’t believe that could be for me,” he said.

Bex wiped at her cheeks, not saying anything yet, still giving him his space.

“Kol, down please,” he whispered and the pile of floof slithered down to the ground with a quiet grumble. Mouse shuffled over a little closer.

“I didn’t want to fuck things up and lose you,” he said. “But, uh, after doing pretty much exactly that, I’m starting to realize that never trying, that—that’s worse.” He knitted his fingers together in his lap before risking another look at her. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he said. “I’m—I’m still scared. There are things I should tell you about myself, my past—”

“That’s usually why people date, Mouse,” she said, not able to keep quiet any longer. “To get to know each other better.”

“Bex, I’m serious.” If she knew what she was getting herself into—

“So am I,” she exclaimed. “Listen. You know we’re in charge here, right?” She flung an arm out. “Like, we can do this however we want. Whatever works best for us.”

Mouse had a whole chorus of voices echoing in his brain, working to combat the lone, but loudest ever-present voice of dissent. The one that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Listen. Just friggin’ listen to her.

Okay, that particular voice was definitely Ed.

“What are you thinking?” Mouse asked her.

“I think we take it slow and we do this,” Bex said. She snuck a look at Kol who was rolling around in the grass. “We w-a-l-k and we talk. You can tell me all the things that you think will scare me off and I’ll show you that I’m still here. For however long it takes for you to believe it.”

Mouse nodded slowly. That could work. They could do that.

“You’re not the only one here who’s overwhelmed by how this—” She hesitated before reaching out to take his hand. “—how this feels.” Bex shook her head lightly before smiling at him. Still holding his hand. “We don’t have to dive into the deep end,” she said. “I’m just happy to have a chance to try. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Together. Mouse squeezed her hand. “Promise?”

Bex squeezed his hand back and nodded once, resolute. “Promise.”

And Mouse believed her. Even when he couldn’t trust himself, he trusted Bex. “Okay, then,” he said.

“Yeah?” She burst out in a big grin.

“Yes, Bex,” he said, grinning back, feeling almost loopy with relief until her smile faltered for a moment and frustration flashed across her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, it’s just—” She scrunched up her face in a borderline pout. “I really want to kiss your face off right now, but that doesn’t exactly fall under the taking it slow category, does it?”

A surprised laugh escaped Mouse before he could catch it. He felt himself blush as he pictured it and had to tamp down on the want. “Yeah, no,” he said in a strangled voice. “Not really.”

Bex stood up from their spot, also blushing as she laughed, shaking her head at them both. “Right, so good talk,” she said. “Good job team. High fives all around. Do you want to head back now?”

Mouse figured that was a good plan before he was tempted to bend the taking it slow plan. Bex picked up Kol’s leash and they left the little park, heading down the sidewalk.

“Hey, Mouse,” Bex said as they walked.

“Hey, Bex.”

“I’ll race you to that stoplight.” Kol started barking and doing a little dance as soon as she said the word race.

Mouse ducked his head at her teasing grin. “What do I get if I win?”

She started jogging backwards. “You’re gonna have to follow me and see,” she said, before turning around and taking off, Kol at her side.

“Can’t wait,” Mouse murmured, running after her.

Click here to read Part Nineteen: 500 Miles

Click here to read Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @iunnowatuwant, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @thebewingedjewelcat, @emme-looou

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splatteredfandoms523 · 5 months

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I Heard You Couldn't Sleep

Mad meticulously got the bed ready, blankets laid out in precise positions for maximum cuddles and maximum comfort. He was in one of Mare's t-shirts and a pair of comfy pants as he went out to find the other three men in the house, a bit pouty about no one coming to bed with him.

He found Dark first, in the predictable spot. He was pacing in his office, on the phone with Wilford, as that was the name he kept saying as he sounded more and more irritated. So, Mad decided to get help for getting him and moved on through the house.

Mad found Anti next, tinkering with some laptops with trying to occupy himself. This seemed much easier to deal with than Dark on a business call with Wilford, so he went in. He gave Anti his best pout and walked over to him.

Anti tilted his head and frowned a bit, "Awww, why are ye poutin'?"

Mad looked incredibly tired and pouty, "I made the bed, and no one was coming to join me. And Dark is on a business call, and I haven't found Mare yet."

Anti chuckles, getting up and going over to press a kiss to Mad's forehead, "Well, how about I get Darky, and you go find Mare? I have a feeling that the music man is looking for you too, go check the bedroom."

Mad nods as Anti goes to get Dark. Anti then glitches in and takes the phone from him.

"Hey, Bubbles, Imma need you to handle this shit on your own for a bit. Mad is pouty. Darky has to come with me. Deal with it."

Dark looks a bit irritated still, but he takes a deep breath and lets Anti take him to bed.

Mad, however, pads back to the room to first hear and then see Mare playing a soft lullaby on his guitar. Mare stops and puts the guitar away when Mad comes in, pulling him in for a cuddle at seeing the tired pout.

"Long day, Starlight?"

"Mhmm. I just wanted cuddles and no one was here with me."

"I'm sorry, Starlight. But let's let Anti drag Dark in here, and I'll sing you a lullaby, hmm?"

"That sounds nice--" Mad breaks into a yawn.

Anti then plops in with Dark, "Sorry we're late, but I got him off the damn phone."

Mad just smiles, "It's all okay now."

Dark looks a little annoyed, but with a look from Mare, he drops the annoyed look. Then Mare smiles as he starts to sing a soft lullaby.

Mad, who's cuddled into his chest, drops off first, breath deepening and slowing. Then Dark drops off, head on Anti's shoulder and curled around him. Then finally, Anti drops off with a soft static hum.

In the end, Mare hums softly to himself with a smile and then finally falls asleep himself, head leaning towards Anti in the big cuddle pile.

@iamvegorott Here ya go!

#danti #dantimadmare #antisepticeye #darkiplier #madmare #madpat #natemare #rain writes

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justforbooks · 1 year

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Renowned as a pioneering guitarist who pushed the boundaries of the instrument to places unknown to most of his contemporaries, Jeff Beck, who has died from bacterial meningitis aged 78, could more than hold his own with fellow luminaries such as Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton (all three of them played in the Yardbirds). Yet unlike them, Beck was something of a reluctant celebrity, unwilling to pursue the superstardom that his musical gifts could have brought him.

“When Led Zeppelin made it so big, I was jealous, absolutely jealous as hell,” Beck said in 1986. “But I’m glad I carried on as I was. I personally couldn’t have put up with that mass adulation.”

When Clapton and Page appeared at Live Aid in 1985, Beck preferred to stay at home and tinker with his beloved collection of classic hot rod cars. “I didn’t want to go, because I hate large crowds,” he claimed. The Melody Maker journalist Chris Welch wrote that “he can appear sullen, lazy and difficult. He has an expressive face that appears to give away his every mood and thought.”

Nonetheless, Beck was a central figure in several key developments in rock music’s history. As a member of the Yardbirds in 1965-66, he featured on some of their best-known hits, including Heart Full of Soul and Shapes of Things, while expanding the band’s musical palette hugely. His solo recording Beck’s Bolero was a firework display of contrasting guitar techniques and textures, and pointed to Beck’s future, in which he would move away from mere rock to embrace jazz fusion and even classical crossover. His 2010 album Emotion & Commotion included versions of Benjamin Britten’s Corpus Christi Carol and Puccini’s Nessun Dorma, interpreted through Beck’s uniquely sensitive touch. He would frequently pick strings with his thumb while modifying tone and pitch with the tremolo bar.

Beck’s gifts burned most intensely after he left the Yardbirds in November 1966 and formed the first incarnation of the Jeff Beck Group in early 1967, featuring Ronnie Wood on bass and the telltale rasping vocals of Rod Stewart. Beck’s previously recorded solo hit Hi Ho Silver Lining, which reached 14 on the UK chart in the spring of 67, gave the group a handy launch platform, although their debut album, Truth, was not released until the following year. When it was, it reached 15 on the US chart.

This was largely down to the group’s tour manager Peter Grant (later Led Zeppelin’s manager), who had taken the band to the US for some ecstatically received live performances and then persuaded Epic Records to sign them. Truth’s soulful mix of blues and hard rock was a trailblazer for a new wave of bands, not least Led Zeppelin themselves, whose own debut album appeared six months later.

Although Truth failed to chart in Britain, the Beck band’s second album, Beck-Ola, gave them another No 15 hit in the US and this time reached the UK Top 40, and they followed up with successful touring in the US, but internal friction was beginning to pull the unit apart. With impeccably poor timing, they broke up just before they were due to play at the Woodstock festival. Stewart launched his solo career, and formed the Faces with Wood. A rebuilt Jeff Beck Group released the albums Rough and Ready (1971) and Jeff Beck Group (1972), but the magic moment had passed.

Beck was born at his family’s home in Wallington (then in Surrey, but now in south London). His father, Arnold, was an accountant and his mother, Ethel, worked in a chocolate factory. Jeff attended Sutton Manor primary school and Sutton East county secondary modern.

He credited his mother with pushing him to study music, because she “used to force me to play piano about two hours a day. But that was good, because it made me realise I was musically sound.” He became fascinated by the electric guitar when he heard Les Paul’s version of How High the Moon. After experimenting with “stretching rubber bands over tobacco cans and making horrible noises”, he graduated to an old and battered acoustic guitar, and then built his own instrument using a cigar box and a picture frame.

Beck attended Wimbledon Art College, where he was mostly preoccupied with guitar-playing, inspired by albums by American bluesmen such as Buddy Guy and Muddy Waters. He bought himself an electric guitar and played briefly with Screaming Lord Sutch and the Savages, and in 1963 formed the Nightshift, who recorded the single Stormy Monday. Later that year he joined an R&B band, the Tridents. He took a great leap forward in 1965 when he joined the Yardbirds, replacing Clapton. This was on the recommendation of Page, whom Beck had known since being introduced to him by his sister Annetta in his teens.

He was with the Yardbirds for less than two years, but during this period they recorded some of their best-known material, including the hit singles Heart Full of Soul (featuring Beck’s raga-like guitar), a UK No 2 and a Top 10 hit in the US, Evil Hearted You (UK No 3), Shapes of Things (UK No 3) and Over Under Sideways Down (UK No 10). Happenings Ten Years Time Ago (1966) only made it to 43 on the UK chart (and 30 in the US), but its complex mix of guitar parts by both Beck and Page have led to it being considered a milestone along the road to full-blown psychedelia. Page would go on to bend the boundaries of rock music with Led Zeppelin, while Beck was experimenting with different tunings and feedback effects.

In May 1966, Beck made his first solo recording, Beck’s Bolero. It featured Page, the Who’s drummer Keith Moon and the future Zeppelin bassist John Paul Jones (indeed, the musicians on the track almost became Led Zeppelin), but was not released until it became the B side of Beck’s single Hi Ho Silver Lining the following year. Based on the rhythm of Ravel’s Bolero, it was a spectacular display of guitar tonalities, from ethereal slide guitar to hard-rock riffing, and suggested the extent of Beck’s ambitions.

After the Jeff Beck Band ended, he formed the “power trio” Beck, Bogert and Appice in 1973 (his bandmates being ex-members of Vanilla Fudge), but the project failed to match expectations and they split in 1974. In 1975 Beck re-emerged in a jazz-inflected guise with the all-instrumental album Blow by Blow, produced by George Martin. It became Beck’s most successful album, reaching No 4 on the US chart and selling a million copies. For Wired (1976), he teamed up with Narada Michael Walden and Jan Hammer, veterans of the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Subsequent live shows were preserved on Jeff Beck With the Jan Hammer Group: Live (1977).

Beck released intermittent solo albums, including Flash (1985), Jeff Beck’s Guitar Shop (1989) and Jeff (2003). Flash delivered a hit single, with a cover version of Curtis Mayfield’s People Get Ready, and the track Escape won Beck the first of his eight Grammy awards. He made guest appearances on Mick Jagger’s album Primitive Cool (1987) and Roger Waters’s Amused to Death (1992). In 2020, he released the single Isolation, a John Lennon song on which he collaborated with the actor Johnny Depp. In July last year, the pair released an album, 18, after Depp had joined Beck onstage for some UK and European concerts.

Beck was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1992 for his work with the Yardbirds, and in 2009 for his solo career.

He is survived by his second wife, Sandra Cash, whom he married in 2005.

🔔 Geoffrey Arnold (Jeff) Beck, composer and musician, born 24 June 1944; died 10 January 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Jeff Beck #in memoriam

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the-hydra-sys · 3 months

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Serpent Hill - Frequent Fronters

Most frequent fronters above the cut, less frequent ones below!

Echo - 🦊

Echo is our primary gatekeeper. They ageslide very frequently, but typically stay in the range of a middle. They use they/them and identify as nonbinary and aroace. They adore foxes, and the colour green. Sometimes, even just seeing a picture of a fox is enough to get them into co-front. They love chaos and pranks, and have a secondary role as a chaos holder. They hold a lot of our ADHD too. They also have a habit of befriending absolutely everyone they come across.

Crimson - ♦️

Crimson is Echo's symbiote & protector, and we classify the two as a subsystem. Crimson doesn't identify as a person, but doesn't really mind if you classify him as one. He rarely talks, and typically only interacts with people if Echo is in trouble. His pronouns are down as "he/him + any."

Void - 💜

Void is our primary protector. Xe's known for his loyalty to his family and xeir aggression to anyone who threatens it. Xe can be very cold at times, and typically refrains from interacting with people. He uses he/xe pronouns and identifies as gay (nwlnw). He likes purple and hoodies. You probably won't see many posts from him, but you may see posts about xem.

Lexi - ✨

Lexi is Void's sister, and a very cheerful & happy-go-lucky albeit mildly chaotic alter. She's known as the token lesbian of our system (despite not being the only lesbian) and she's pretty flirtatious. She uses she/xe but doesn't really care - as long as it's not masculine, she'll roll with it. She doesn't have a gender identity label, but she aligns with a feminine gender. Xe likes orangey-gold colours, guitars and sunsets.

Michael - 🧪 or 🥼

Michael J Davis is an immortal scientist, frozen at a physical age of around 28. His mental age is closer to roughly 80 billion, and he's travelled all around the universe in his source. He adores science, and loves tinkering with the science and magic of headspace, breaking laws of physics that wouldn't be possible in the real world and creating new (and usually a little deadly) machines. He's brothers with Clara and has a whole host of kids. He's associated with the colour blue, and he'll probably offhandedly mention the craziest source memories and/or the weirdest advice ever that you've never heard before.

Kaz - 🪼

Kaz is an idiot /pos with a tendency to get in trouble. He's 19ish, and very gay. He's a semihuman, and he likes cyan. Officially, he uses "he/she/they/xe/it/zyr/blyss," but unofficially he likes it when people get creative. When referred to by pronouns that aren't he, it can stop him in his tracks for a second because he's not used to it, but he really doesn't care about what pronouns people use all that much. He'll probably post about his boyfriend, so be warned. /lh. He's also siblings with Void, Lexi, Hayden Jr, and the rest of that family.

Angel Dust - 🌸

Heya toots, I'm Angel. Fictive of Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel, we hyperfixated a lil too hard. I'm pretty source connected and I like sourcemates, but if you're a source connected V then I ain't talkin to ya, sorry. If ya ain't source connected it really depends.

Clara - 🩺

Clara is a lovely, albeit terrifying, lady. She's a doctor and spends most of her time in the medbay, healing people. She's an adoptive mother to Void and Lexi, as well as over 20 other kids. She's a caretaker but can quickly turn more ferocious than any protector if a child is being threatened. She has a strong eastern european accent (most likely derived from the body's parents) and takes on a motherly, caring role. She identifies with she/hyr pronouns and is somewhere on the aroace spectrum. She likes faded dark blue colours, and also happens to be Michael's non-biological little sister.

Nick - 🎗️

Nick is Michael's lab partner (..they're gay.) and he spends most of his time in the lab. He has amateur fire powers and is fireproof to an extent. Originally, he's a hero!Sapnap fictive from one of those vigilante AUs, but he's very source seperated. He uses most masculine and androgynous pronouns, and likes when people try out new neos for him. He likes the colour orange and he's around 30 years old.

Celskar - 🫧

Celskar uses any pronouns, and he likes neopronouns. He and Michael are queer. He likes shimmering colours, and his favourite is a shimmery purpley-silvery-blue. I'm not putting too much about him here as he's very source-connected and I don't want to put stuff about his source without consent.

Orion - 🪽

Orion uses he/xe/other pronouns, and is associated with pale orangey-yellow colours. He's a self-branded fuckboy, and flirts with almost every alter in our system above the age of like 20. He's a mortal turned immortal, and his physical age is somewhere in the mid 20s. While he can come off pretty strong, he does respect boundaries and will stop flirting with someone if they tell him to. He has desaturated blue hair and gold eyes.

Hayden Jr - 💠

Hayden Jr is the host of a subsystem and the younger brother of Void and Lexi. They're genderqueer and on the aroace spectrum. They like blues and greens, but when picking a colour they tend to lean towards light blues.

Fran - 🦌

Fran is an absolute sweetheart. They're genderfluid, and in their mid 30s. They have a sanctuary-like area and take care of all littles without parents. They often help Clara with her kids as she typically has her hands full at the medbay anyway. They like dark forest greens, and they're a semihuman alter. They have large antlers with flowers blooming from them and large fluffy ears. They are sometimes a satyr and sometimes have human legs, it fluctuates and they've been seen with both.

Sior - 🐺

Sior is our secondary gatekeeper and an absolute sweetheart. He uses he/they/xe. He's a teenager, and he has a heart made of gold. He's part wolf, part weird-bird-thing, and part human. He will not shut up about the wolf side. /lh. He rambles a lot and often gets sidetracked - probably due to his role as a holder of our ADHD. He has an innersys boyfriend, Zack, and the two spend a lot of time together. He's also the son of Celskar and Mateo, but you probably won't hear much about Mateo as he rarely fronts.

Zack - 🛡️

Zack is pretty much the polar opposite of Sior - quiet, focused, and pretty introverted. He loves art and values his alone time just as much as his time with people, though he often lets Sior intrude on both. He usually takes co when Sior's fronting to make sure he doesn't get himself into any trouble. He's the son of Harry D, and the two can often be found playing cards or chess in their common area's lounge.

Katris - 🪄

Katris is the most powerful magic user in our system. He's also 15. One of Michael's kids, Katris is adept at magic and can often do complicated spells that fix things others didn't even know could be fixed. Michael often allows him to help around the lab, and sometimes he can be found helping Clara in the medbay. Now and then, Michael and him can be found watching movies or training together. Katris uses he/they pronouns and is on the aroace spectrum.

Charlie - 🐏

Charlie is a "weird goat - fairy - thing." His pronouns are "he/him but funky," and everything else about him is pretty much just as odd. He improv-swears when stressed and tends to be on the anxious side. He's very gay for his boyfriend(?) and he gets hyper easily. He's on the younger side, around 16 or 17, and he's associated with dark maroon colours.

Lacey - 📋

Lacey is pretty serious, and tends to seem strict. She wears her hair up and has dark glasses as well as a black mask. She's often found hanging around Kaz and Charlie. She uses non-masculine pronouns.

Davina - 💎

Davina's genderfluid, but typically aligns with femme genders. When talking about her and not knowing which gender she currently is, she prefers people use she/they. She's twins with Devin, though he's technically older by a day since she was born just after midnight - a fact he always holds over her. She's very kind and caring in general.

Elliot / Dream - 🟢

Elliot is a fictive from the series Since I Saw Vienna (I'll put down my roots when I'm dead & sequels). He is not c!Dream, or cc!Dream, do not treat him as such. He's decently source connected and doesn't mind talking with sourcemates. He's brothers with our Aftershock fictive and friendly with our Vincent fictive (both from the same source). He fronts now and then but typically prefers to mask as other alters or leave himself down as blurry or anon.

Vincent - 🎶

Vincent is a fictive form the same source as Elliot. He's Aftershock's dad, and the two are very close. He uses he/him pronouns but doesn't mind if people use they for him. He's a protector and takes care of people who aren't able to take care of themselves. He's very dad-like and gets overprotective easily. He's in his 30s.

Vi - 🧤

Vi doesn't front much, but she's still around a lot, and people probably will mention her. She's a fictive from Arcane, and while she has a lot of source memories she isn't super connected to it. She's dating our Caitlyn fictive from the same source, and she helps Clara out around the medbay a lot. She uses she/xe pronouns, and is okay with sourcetalk, but asks you don't presume she's exactly like source - she isn't. She doesn't like talking to source-connected Silco introjects, but if they aren't source connected then she's completely fine with them.

Technoblade - 👑

Technoblade uses he/him pronouns. He doesn't front much, but he's very protective over his little sibling (Echo). He's a fictive from an antarctic empire fic, and is really close with a Phil from the same fic.

There are a lot more, but if any others start fronting more frequently I'll edit this and add them! - Echo

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ca1e70 · 1 year

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daverose indie rock house show au chapter........ 1.5?

"so like i didn't write this song or anything, but i mean technically i should be on the credits because i DID come up with one of the drum fills and i totally deserve credit. don't let them tell you any differently" the first few words came out echoey through the shitty speakers stacked around the living room and kitchen. at least until the blond guy with the shades fiddles with with the microphone while still giving his little spiel. he also manages to kick the "pedalboard" by his feet and nearly sends the cracked skateboard housing questionable equipment clear into the kitchen. he doesn't, though, but the mic picks up his worried curses anyway. back to the situation at hand. "our regularly scheduled lead is on vocal rest because of... what was it?"

hes turning back from the only slightly attentive crowd to look at the bassist. she has rubber bands youd expect to see on a set of extensive braces adorning her fingers while she mines a line and makes a face at him. she doesn't know. shes not even the regularly scheduled bassist.

"actually fuck it who gives a shit but i'm not changing the lyrics so just bear with me while i butcher some sapphic undertones" and their fill-in for the fill-in drummer is coming in early.

this is the second time rose lalonde has come across the man currently fumbling his way through a guitar riff like he'd never picked one up before. she would be none the wiser if it wasn't for the fact she knew the stand-in bassist, and she had heard plenty of talk about the stand-in drummer turned lead guitar and singer. this place did a lot of stand-ins. you'd think by now they would have created at least ONE set band, and maybe they did, but rose couldn't care less about the semantics of indie bands and their makeup of artists. she knows she heard one girl on her way to the bathroom talk about a different guitarist sending an unsolicited dick pic, and decided she didn't really want to be involved in the politics of 'local musicians'.

she was here, once again, at the request of her dear friend blowing everyone away with her ability to jump around the small dining room area and still hit every note. every time it looked like her hair had obscured her vision enough to send her tumbling into the guy not only wearing shades inside, but at night, jade managed to keep her balance up right. it's the only reason she stayed firmly planted on the kitchen counter in the background. it's also the only reason rose came again, because jade promised to "make it up to her by actually showing up and performing".

no one said anything about dave strider being front and center, though. she had half the mind to turn around and walk out the second she saw him tinkering with a power outlet. jade had already spotted her, though, and the escape plan went out the window. which is why she is once again stuck watching performances from what seems like a messier counter than last time, but i digress.

dont get her wrong. dave isnt half bad! if he had some training, maybe a better grasp on guitar work in general he would be good. if he had some more practice with the song he is, as he said, butchering. it isnt until he picks up in on the lyrics that she takes a second to really pay attention.

he isnt anything special. the southern accent he tries desperately to cover up makes its way out on certain words, he manages to keep in pitch and tone well enough she doesnt have to cover her ears, and theres a couple girls in the living room that yell when he starts singing. they scream, is more like it, and one of them is giggling at the other and theres a slight twinge in rose’s stomach that makes her want to run out of this house and never stop running until she makes it to antarctica.

she wants the girl to leave. she wants the guy in the shades to shut the fuck up and stop singing in front of everyone here. she wants jade to leave her bassist post and come over here right this very second so she can slap rose and tell her shes going insane. instead of any of that happening, rose hops off the counter again and starts to fill up a red solo cup with sink water. the physical act helps her keep her mind off of dave and how she feels her heart rate picking up at the idea that another girl could think he was cute. or that his voice was nice. or want to do something like go on a date with him when rose has already done that, ruined that, and ghosted him.

well, she didnt ghost him. itd only been a week and she just hadnt replied to his messages because she was busy with school. just because he and jade had school together and talked every day, and jade said that dave asked about her and was worried, and she never replied back, does not mean shes ghosting him.

if she was ghosting him the nickels wouldnt be still sitting on her bedside table, like a memento of something that happened with a weird boy in a bathroom.

rose manages to overfill the cup and continue overfilling it until the song is over. when silence hits the room (just before scattered applause) she turns the faucet off and stares at the ripple of the water in her cup. she would never drink something like this, but it had given her something to do, so she dumps it back into the sink and crushes the cup to let loose a little bit of self contained anger.

she should have waited because theres a rather jazzy little guitar fill – not bass, guitar – and she has to walk around the wall in the kitchen just to make sure she isnt hallucinating. it must be a cover, one he’s worked on before, because the audience goes a little crazy and when he starts singing again they sing along. its one shes never heard, but it isnt as if shes all that up to date on the scene shes currently swathed in. dave had sent her a playlist of music to listen to, ones that would help her out if she ever came back, and she wondered if this one was on it. she wondered if she could have been singing along with him like the girls stationed right in front of his microphone. she wonders if she could have been cheering him on like he deserved.

no, he didnt deserve it. hes just a boy. hes just a boy with a kind of good voice that can apparently play the guitar well enough and supposedly plays the drums like a god. something rose has only heard rumors of and yet to see, and theres the smallest part of her that hopes she does one day, but she shoves that down quickly in favor of staring into the back of those girls heads like shes going to make them explode.

this is jealousy and she doesnt like it. she didnt even know she was capable of jealousy. she wants to never feel jealous again, and jade is gearing up for a bass solo and sees rose in the actual ‘audience’. her name is yelled into the microphone and rose can feel her face turning red when dave’s face appears between the two witches he has as fans. the witches turn around as well. the entire house turns around to look at rose right as jade starts playing and rose just… stands there. still as a caught mouse. a truly dead possum. caught in the fact dave smiled when he caught sight of her and went back to messing with the pedalboard. she wants to run away and disappear right then and there.

she does, to be fair, once jade has finished her solo and looks back at rose for approval shes back to trying to find an escape route for the time being. somewhere that she doesnt have to look at a stupid little blond boy or feel emotions she hasnt felt since her mother smiled wider at a wine shipment than the carefully crafted scarf she had made her for christmas one year as a kid. she wanted to break every bottle in that crate just like she wanted to break every bone in those girls bodies, so she takes her rage up the stairs and into a bedroom she can find unlocked. theres shockingly no one in there, but it doesnt take her long to realize why.

above the bed is an entire shelf of preserved animals. there are cords across the floor like nobodys business, the entire room is a tripping hazard, and the sheets on the bed look rumpled and unchanged and the entire room smells of formalin and teenage boy.

no one is going to come in here, though, so its safe. its safe enough she shuts the door behind her and carefully crosses the room to open a window for airflow. the fan in the corner doesnt really do the room much help, so this should make it less stuffy. her head is sticking out and her hands are on the ledge of the window and she can still hear dave singing underneath her but its muffled. far away. just like her house, and yet, last friday he walked her all the way there. it had to have been forty minutes. she took a cab here again, no idea how she would get home. she fully hoped jade would give her a ride back so she didnt have to walk or be walked by a man who probably went way out of his way for that.

she doesn't even know where he lives, after all.

#writing tag #daverose indie rock house show au

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bitchyglitterfox · 2 years

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The One That Got Away Tony Stark x F!Reader

To break up all that fluff and fluffy smut I've written in the last couple of days here's some ANGST! it's a normal life au! again

words: 758

WARNINGS: Just pure angst and possible underage drinking

Summary: The one girl who got away from Tony.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

*FLASHBACK*

It was summertime when he first met her; she was gorgeous, and had curves in all the right places. She was gorgeous and he knew he had to make her mine.

“Hey gorgeous, my name’s tony, tony stark, and who might you be?” he asks the most gorgeous woman in front of him.

“(Reader), so you on summer break too? What high school are you from?” She smiles. Wow, she’s even got a beautiful smile to match.

“High school? No, I just graduated from MIT.” The look on her face after he told her was priceless. “So tell me sweet cheeks did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“No but I scraped my knees climbing up from hell” she smirked trying not to laugh.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

They were currently in his mustang making out listening to AC/DC.

“God I love you so much, you don’t even realize how much I truly do,” he says against her lips while rubbing his thumb over her matching bird tattoo to the one that he bares on his forearm, taking a moment to remember the day they got it, last month on her 18th birthday.

“I love you too Tony, It’s us against the world remember? Forever and always” she says kissing him once more.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“My parents are gonna be so pissed when they notice that the good liquor is gone from the cabinet” she giggles as they sneak onto the top of her roof.

“Who says they’ll find out?” he says sitting next to her and looking up at the stars and moon. She leans her head against his shoulder taking a sip from the bottle.

“Do you ever think about the future tony?” she asks low enough so that he can barely hear her.

“All the time, I see myself taking over my father’s company, marrying you and having a couple of kids, living in a big house where we grow old together surrounded by friends and family,” he says kissing the top of her head.

“I like that future.” She says sighing happily.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“I love this song,” she says while dancing along to ring of fire. She was the June to my Johnny Cash, whenever she left to go to college during the fall and spring he would play those old records and they’d help him get through the long months without her. He goes behind her and wrap her in his arms and sways along to the music. “Yeah well, I love you more than some song.”

She just giggles and continues swaying. “Let’s make a pact that when you finish this next semester we go on a trip and travel, because y/n l/n, I love you so much,” he says kissing her head.

“Oh tony, you, I mean we don’t have to!” she says shaking her head.

“I want to and I know you want to go to England and walk where the Beatles walked so why not?”

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Someone told him that she got her tattoo removed a few months after she got back to college and started dating some accounting major. He never got a why all he got was a broken heart; he threw himself into his work and started tinkering with gadgets and new toys.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

he was walking down Broadway when he heard the most beautiful singing voice he’d ever heard. When he looked up it was her singing the blues. He had no idea she could sing so well. He threw 20$ into her guitar case and kept walking luckily for him, she didn’t notice who he was. As he passed her, he rubbed the bird tattoo on his forearm.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

“Stark are you ok? You seemed to zone out of it” Steve asked as Tony shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, now what were you saying?” He say smiling at his friend.

“Well, I was introducing you to my Fiancé (Reader), the one I told you about, the singer.” He says as he smiles at her.

“Hello Mr. Stark, I’ve heard a lot about you.” She says smiling at him, Tony knows it's fake, and he can still read her like a book after all these years.

“All good things I hope,” I say shaking her hand.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

As Katy Perry Says All this money can’t buy me a time machine; I should’ve told you how much you meant to me; Cause now I pay the price; in another life, I would make you stay, so I don’t have to say “You were the one that got away.”

#tony stank #tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #marvel #bitchyglitterfox writes #marvel x reader #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader

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moon-silvered · 2 years

Text

Como La Flor

Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader

Wordcount: 3k

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Singing, Comfort, Cursing, Second Person POV, Spanglish

Summary: While busking in the park, You lock eyes with Jake Lockley and then you and him sing Como La Flor together.

Taglist: Reply/Ask to be added

Part of the Fuck this Bitch in Particular Series

Now On Ao3

He finds you during the day when you’re out busking. Or maybe it’s you who finds him. Your eyes lock in the park when you’re not bouncing anymore because of an injury. Bossman don’t like having injured bouncers on duty, makes the place look unprotected. So you weren’t to return until you were good and healed. Course bossman also didn’t pay for that time off. So you still need income.

You’re busking with a booted up leg from when some drunk dickhead got a lucky kick on you. You’re strumming a beat up guitar, singing songs from a childhood you lost in a state too packed with people for its own good about a culture you never really got to experience out in the diaspora that you were.

Passersby think it’s just a cute little thing, the songs you’re singing. A few coins here and there but Lockley walks up and drops what looks like a folded up twenty into your guitar case.

Color you a little optimistic if you think he was actually moved by your singing but no. He lingers, and when you take a break from singing he asks questions about if you’ve seen a particular guy.

Of course. Paying for information.

You tell him everything you know of course. Twenty pounds is still twenty pounds. And you wanted to eat that night.

You expect not to see him for a few weeks, maybe months. But he returns an hour after sundown, worse for wear with a bandage over his nose and a plastic bag in hand.

“You take requests, Jersey?” He groans the question out as he sits beside you.

The nickname makes you start. You’ve never told him where you’re from. Though anyone familiar with a true New Jersey accent would have clocked you a mile away.

“If I’ve heard it, I can probably play it and sing it. Don’t ask me to read from a sheet though, can’t read music for shit.” You explain and eye him.

“Know Selena?”

You send him an affronted look. “Do I know Selena? The fuck kinda latino you think I am? Course I know Selena. Everyone fucking knows Selena.” You want to smack him upside the head for the stupid question.

“Ay ay, tranquila, Jersey.” He raised one hand to make shushing gestures at you.

“You know who doesn’t know Selena, Lockley? Babies. Absolute children.” You rant.

“Okay okay, calmate.” Lockley’s smiling at you, shaking his head.

“Tell me do I look like one of them brats who don’t know shit?” Your voice raises and your hands gesture and enunciate each word. “Do I look like a fucking kid to you?”

“No, you don’t look like un bebe.” Lockley says and adds. “And thank fuck you aren’t one either.”

You blow air out of your nose in a huff and start tinkering with the tuning of your guitar and strum a few chords. “So which song?”

“Como la flor?” Lockley says and then pulls out two bottles from the bag. He holds one out to you and you take it. It’s a dark bottle with a tar-colored malt drink. It’s non alcoholic but damn if it don’t remind you of running to the bodega to get one of these every weekend.

“Damn…” you swear and take a sip, relishing the overly sweet, teeth-staining malta. Lockley is smirking, because of course he is. Fucker’s got you pegged. And not in the fun way.

“Well thanks.” You strum the guitar trying to get the tune right but damn you need some percussion. You had the lyrics memorized because the song was featured in every Latinos’ childhood of the 90s. But the chord progression you weren’t quite sure of. Cumbia isn’t exactly your forte.

You started trying to harmonize by playing to a slower beat and singing the chorus. “Como la flor…” you strummed slowly, testing the fingering. “…con tanto amor.” You close your eyes, trying to remember how Abuelo taught you. “Me diste tú, se marchi-“

“Ay no, Jersey.” Lockley stopped you and reached out to grab the neck of your guitar. “Dame, dame, dame esa guitarra.”

“¡¿Está loco?!” You hiss, holding on tightly but he gave you a dark look.

“You don’t remember the chords. You sing, I play.”

“Don’t touch la Señorita!” You hiss.

“I will give her back.” Lockley lowered his voice and huskily said. “Encomiéndamelo.”

Your cheeks burned and your grip went slack. “¡¿Q-que dijiste?!” You stammer. You must have misheard him.

Lockley smiled triumphantly and pulled the guitar from you. “I said to trust me.” And with a quirk of one of his brows, “What did you hear?”

You glare. He did that on purpose. And you know he knows you know he did it on purpose. So you grit your teeth and drink the rest of your malta as he checks your guitar over and retunes her. The nerve! Your annoyance melts when he gets the chords right on the first go. Damn, he was good.

“Ready?” He asks and doesn’t wait.

You were mid gulp when he said that. And cleared your throat hastily.

“Yo sé que tienes un nuevo amor.” You have a cracked voice to start but once you get into it, you start to raise your volume. “Sin embargo, te deseo lo mejor.” You sway in your seat, hearing a mental accompaniment and you tap out the beat on your thigh. “Si en mí encontraste felicidad. Tal vez, alguien más te la dará.” A inhale breath and you go louder. “Como la flor, con tanto amor!”

“Tanto amor.” Lockley sings with you.

It startles you, almost making you miss the next line. “Me diste tú, se marchitó. Me marcho hoy, yo sé perder.”

“Pero, ah-ah-ay, ¡cómo me duele!” You and Lockley sing together. There’s a little thrill in your chest when it sounds good. Better than good.

“Ah-ah-ay, ¡cómo me duele!” Lockley looks at you when he sings. There’s pain in his gaze when he does, but when he glances down at the guitar to continue playing it’s gone when he meets your gaze again.

What was that?

You continue singing, drawing a small crowd with more coins and bills deposited into your case.

One song turns into two, which turns into a set, and Lockley plays while you sing.

Thirty minutes later, he hands you back your guitar after the crowd has dispersed. “You’ve got a good voice.”

“Look who's talking.” You throw back. “And you can play. Apparently I can’t play and sing.”

“Not what I said.” Lockley breathes.

“Didn’t have to.” You shrug and collect your case. You pull out a couple of bills and hold them out to him. “For your playing.”

“Keep em.” He waves it off and gets up.

“Suit yourself.” You pocket the bills and dump the coins into your bag then pack away your guitar. You expect him to leave but he lingers.

That’s not weird, no not at all.

With your stuff packed away, you shift forward to stand and he steps in front of you, hand out. You hesitate to take it, but ultimately, the pain of standing up on your own with a broken leg is not worth your already damaged pride. So you grab it and he effortlessly pulls you up. He grabs the guitar case.

“What are you doing?” You stare.

“Helping.”

“Who exactly youse think ya helping?” You reach for your guitar case and he steps back.

“You.”

“Yeah uh…you don’t …you don’t help people.”

“Don’t I?” He asks and starts walking.

He has your only source of earning income. Whining, you head his way, wincing every time you have to put weight on your injured leg.

Lockley looks back at you, stops and waits for you to reach him. “You don’t got no crutches?”

“Sold em.” You explain.

He makes an aggravated sound, looks you up and down.

“If you carry me, I will scream.”

He snorts and grabs your arm and drapes it over his shoulders. “Lean on me, Jersey.”

“Fine.” You grumble and do. He helps you walk out of the park and down the street. You’re about to direct him toward your flat but he turns you into an alley and there it is. Covered in a black limo cover, that he yanks off. His bright white reinforced limo.

“You need a more inconspicuous ride, Lockley.” You grumble. “People starting to talk.”

“Let people talk. They ain’t got shit to do anyway.” Lockley opened the door. “Get in.”

“You ain’t my driver. I sit in the front.” You grumble.

“You really wanna sit all crowded up next to me with that leg of yours on my lap?” Lockley smirked. “I mean I’m flattered-“

“Shut the fuck up, Moon Moon.” You growl and hobble into the seat. You eye the red upholstery, remembering it from months ago when he saved your ass. You owed him, again.

Lockley set your guitar case inside and then got into the driver’s seat. “Seatbelt.” He said.

“Fuck you.”

“Dinner and a movie first,” he winked from the mirror, but waited until you did buckle up before driving.

He remembered where you lived, because he took the right road without you needing to say. That’s not disturbing. Nope. Not at all.

And when he helped you up your stairs, you fished around for your keys when he already had one.

“That’s fucked up. You made a copy?!” You hiss.

He looks at you offended. “No. I took your spare.” He shrugs.

“Thief! How the fuck you know where my spare was anyway?”

“Block of ice in the freezer? You weren’t original. Fucked up the flavor of your cola champagne.”

“YOU DRANK MY COLA CHAMPAGNE?!” You yell.

“I replaced it.”

“Motherfucker.”

“Not currently. But I’m willing to take that as an invitation.”

“I. Don’t. Have. Kids. Bitch.”

“I can help with that.” He winks.

“Pendejo.” You growl and push him away as soon as the door is open. You hobble in. Your flat is a mess. Bit hard to keep it clean when you spend your pain threshold on getting places. You drop onto your couch and lift your leg up.

“Leave my shit on the table. I’ll get to it later.” You sigh.

Lockley steps in and surveys everything. He says nothing but sets the guitar case down and then walks up to you.

“When you’re healed up.” He holds out a card. “Check ‘em out. Give ‘em my name.”

You take the card and don’t look at it. “Thanks.” You mutter, giving him a look that says he should leave.

He takes the hint and leaves.

You remember a split second after he closes and locks the door. “My spare key!”

There’s a cackle in the hallway but he doesn’t come back.

You were going to change the damn locks as soon as you could.

A day later, there’s a patterned knock on your door. You hadn’t ordered anything and were not expecting anyone. You wonder if it’s Lockley, but he still has your spare key. Unless he was being polite and knocking.

“Who is it?” You call out from your bed. You’d made yourself a nest surrounded in blankets, takeout boxes, and books.

The patterned knock comes again. You groan, and get up, moving slowly and leaning against the wall. You don’t check the peephole. If it’s someone who means you harm, fuck it. Besides, they wouldn’t have knocked.

You open the door and there’s an old man leaning against the door wiping gold paint from his face.

“Ah! Jersey I presume?” He asks.

“That’s not-“ you sigh and give up. “Great awesome. Fantastic. Yeah that’s me. Did Sailor Moon send you?”

The old man looks confused for a second.

“Lockley.” You clarify.

“Indeed he did.” The old man smiles. “Bertrand Crawley, here to deliver a package from our mutual employer.” He turns to what he was hiding behind him, a pair of crutches. “He says not to sell these.”

Your eyelid twitched. “What’s he want for it?”

“Nothing.”

“Right now it’s nothing, but what does he want in the long run?” You ask. “Nothings free.”

“He said nothing of the sort.”

“Fine whatever. Put them by the couch.” You wave belligerently and step-drag your foot and self into the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t you be using them?”

“I didn’t ask for em so I ain’t using em!” You bark and down a handful of your painkillers and grab a box of cereal to munch on.

Crawley does what you instruct and you wave goodbye at him as he leaves. You don’t lock the door. You should have. But you don’t.

It’s a mistake when midnight rolls around and the door opens.

“Swear the fuck that better be you Lockley or I’m going to die tonight.”

“Do you have a secret Canadian identity I don’t know about?” Lockley asks.

You flip him off from your nest, then pull the box of cereal under your blankets. You shove a handful in your mouth and listen to Lockley step around your flat over the loud and open mouth crunching you did.

Chair legs scraped against the floor and you could hear him set it on the rug beside your bed.

Danger alarms went off in your head. You pointedly ignored them.

“You gonna come outta there or do I gotta go in?”

You burrow deeper under the blankets.

He sighed. “Really making this difficult for yaself ya know.”

You grunt.

It’s quiet and then he pounced and you screech as his hands found their way right to the center of your blanket shaped hobbit hole and grabbed your hair by the root.

“Up.” He orders.

You flail, cereal flying and your one good leg trying to kick him but what was your cocoon of warmth was now a trap for yourself as the blankets protected him. “Oh fuck.”

“Up, Jersey.”

“No!”

“Be a good girl and come for daddy.”

You splutter and yank the blanket off your face to spit at him.

“Knew that’d get you, Jersey.” Then he lets your hair go and wipes his face. “Didn’t know youse was a spitter. Good to know for later.”

“I’m never gonna fucking suck ya cock, tu gran cabrón con pequeño pinche pinga!” You spit.

“Didn’t know it was ever on the table. Nice to know what’s on your mind, Jersey.” Lockley’s grin is too smug and you punch anything within reach. He steps back and you go flailing off your bed.

“Aw, don’t go falling for me now.”

“AAGGGHHH” you scream. It’s not at him. It’s because it’s been four hours since your pain meds wore off and not moving meant not feeling any pain and you just fell forward and your booted leg twisted.

“Shit.” Lockley picks you and sets you back on your bed, carefully untangling the blankets and showing your twisted leg. “Now look what you did.”

“Eat shit.” You groan.

“I’ll toss ya salad another day, we’re taking you to the clinic.”

You do not fight it.

Hours later at the twenty four hour clinic, you’ve got a fresh prescription of pain meds and your leg is now in a new cast. And worse, you’re being wheeled out, bound to a wheelchair on doctor’s orders, and pushed by one Lockley.

“You’re an asshole, ya know.”

“So you keep screeching.” He hums a song under his breath.

“There a reason you like to fuck with me?”

“I was bored.”

“I’m not your plaything.”

“And I needed information.”

“Fucking knew those crutches weren’t free.”

“Why haven’t you used them yet? It’s been a day.”

“Well looks like I won’t be using them for a while anyway.”

“Didn’t answer the question.”

“Nothing ain’t free. Knew you’d come to collect. Won’t use em until then. Now I owe you even more.” You gesture at the wheelchair.

“This is covered by the NHS.”

“If I was fucking covered by NHS, sure.” You huff.

Lockley pauses. “Still can’t be a lot.”

“You realize I was busking for change the other day right? You might remember, you sang with me.” You bite out. “Rich assholes…”

He says nothing else but wheels you right to his waiting limo, the same one you rode in on the way in. Not that you remembered from the new pain you had been under.

You bite you lip when he lifts and carried you into it and even buckles you in. There’s a brief moment where he hovers right over you, his gaze on yours and he licks his lips. “Is it tight?”

You say nothing but nod your head.

“Good.” He loads in the wheelchair and drives you off.

You’re ignoring how fast a particular organ in your chest is functioning. Very much ignoring it. It does not exist for all you care at that moment. Even if it might break a rib if it continues. Fuck, you hope it doesn’t.

Halfway through the drive, the partition window rolls down.

“Still alive back there?”

“Wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t.” You mutter to yourself. Your cheeks are still burning and you want Lockley to take his stupid handsome gaze off you while you find a way to stop whatever malfunction your hormones are having.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Alive. Tired. It’s almost dawn.”

“I still need that info.”

“Course you fucking do.” That’s enough to drain the blood from your cheeks. “What do you need?”

This time, he wants info on how many other buskers went missing from the park you’d been at.

“Missing? I thought they just found a new spot.”

“Nope. They’ve been going missing.” He catches your gaze. “You still got that card I gave you?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. Don’t go busking anymore. Not until I figure this shit out.”

Your chest feels uncomfortable but you give him the names of the buskers you’ve met. Six of them. Six people you thought had gone off to literal greener pastures to sing in. They’d talked about finding this place that was unsupervised (as in unpoliced) where the money was greater, rich shoppers and shit.

“Soho?” Lockley asked.

“Round there.” You answer. You don’t wanna think about this for any longer than necessary.

“Hey. Call the club on that card.” Lockley says.

“Uh-huh.”

He drops you off at your flat, helps you up and get resettled. You’ve already taken some meds again, and are drifting off to sleep when he leaves. But when you wake up, your flat is spotless.

“Ah fucking knew it.” You sigh and shift to the edge of your bed, knocking the crutches over where they’d been propped on your side table for easy access.

Translations

Tranquila - Quiet

Calmate - Calm down

Yo sé que tienes un nuevo amor /Sin embargo, te deseo lo mejor/ Si en mí encontraste felicidad / Tal vez, alguien más te la dará Como la flor con tanto amor /Me diste tú, se marchitó /Me marcho hoy, yo sé perder/Pero, ah-ah-ay, ¡cómo me duele! / Ah-ah-ay, ¡cómo me duele! I know that you have a new love / Nevertheless I wish you all the best /If in me you didn't find happiness/ Perhaps someone else / will give it to you Like the flower with so much love / That you gave it to me shriveled / I´m leaving today I know to lose / But oh how it hurts me / Oh how it hurts me

Dame, dame, dame esa guitarra.- Give me, give me, give me the guitar

¡¿Está loco?! - Are you crazy?!

Encomiéndamelo - Trust in me (If you hear it wrong, it can be mistaken for encomiéndate which means “I love you”)

¡¿Q-que dijiste?! - What did you say?!

tu gran cabrón con pequeño pinche pinga! - You big bastard with a tiny fucking dick

#jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #jake lockley #fic: fuck this bitch in particular

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mrsdawg4908 · 2 years

Text

Eddie Van Halen

January 26, 1955 – October 6, 2020

Edward Lodewijk Van Halen was born in Amsterdam on January 26, 1955, the son of Jan van Halen and Eugenia (née van Beers). His father was a Dutch jazz pianist, clarinettist, and saxophonist, while his mother was an Indo (Eurasian) woman from Rangkasbitung on the island of Java in the Dutch East Indies. The family eventually settled in Nijmegen, Netherlands.

After experiencing mistreatment for their mixed-race relationship in the 1950s, the parents moved the family to the U.S. in 1962. They settled near other family members in Pasadena, California, where Eddie and his brother Alex attended a segregated elementary school. Since the boys did not speak English as a first language, they were considered "minority" students and experienced bullying by white students. They began learning the piano at age six,[8][9] commuting from Pasadena to San Pedro to study with an elderly piano teacher, Stasys Kalvaitis.

Van Halen was never taught to read music; instead, he watched recitals of Bach or Mozart and improvised. Between 1964 and 1967, he won first place in the annual piano competition at Long Beach City College. His parents wanted the boys to be classical pianists, but Van Halen gravitated towards rock music, and was greatly influenced by British Invasion bands like The Beatles and The Dave Clark Five. Consequently, when Alex began playing the guitar, Eddie bought a drum kit; however, after he heard Alex's performance of the Surfaris' drum solo in the song "Wipe Out", he gave Alex the drums and began learning the electric guitar. According to him, as a teen he often practiced while walking around at home with his guitar strapped on, or sitting in his room for hours with the door locked.

Eddie and Alex formed their first band with three other boys, called themselves The Broken Combs, and performed at lunchtime at Hamilton Elementary School in Pasadena when he was in the fourth grade. He later cited this performance as key to his desire to become a professional musician. He described supergroup Cream's "I'm So Glad" on the album Goodbye as "mind-blowing". He once claimed that he had learned almost all of Eric Clapton's solos in the band Cream note for note. "I've always said Eric Clapton was my main influence," he said, "but Jimmy Page was actually more the way I am, in a reckless-abandon kind of way."

Eddie and his brother Alex formed the band Mammoth in 1972. Two years later, David Lee Roth joined Mammoth as lead singer and Mammoth officially changed its name to Van Halen and became a staple of the Los Angeles music scene, playing at well-known clubs like the Whisky a Go Go.

At a 1976 concert at The Starwood in California, the band opened for UFO. Kiss bassist Gene Simmons saw the performance, and said, "I was waiting backstage by the third song." He asked the band about their plans, and they said, "There is a yogurt manufacturer that is going to invest in us." Gene begged them not to go that route and invited them to record some demos at Electric Lady Studios in Greenwich Village in New York City. Gene then signed them to his company and the band recorded early demos of their songs, including "Runnin' with the Devil". Excited about the band, Gene approached Kiss manager Bill Aucoin and Kiss frontman Paul Stanley about them, but they dismissed his desire to sign them to Aucoin's management fold. Stanley later said he "rejected Van Halen to protect Kiss", and that they made an effort to make Gene drop the band to "keep Gene in check". The discouraging words caused Gene to rip up the contract, and he “let them go” after feeling he may have held the band back.

The next year, Warner Records offered Van Halen a recording contract.

His first guitar, purchased as a child from Sears and Roebuck, was a Teisco Del Ray. He played the guitar in his elementary school band, The Broken Combs.

Van Halen was an inveterate tinkerer, and played many custom-built and heavily modified guitars, especially early in his career. Upon embarking on his professional music career, he purchased a Gibson Les Paul, for which he replaced the original P90 pickup on the bridge with a humbucker in order to sound like Eric Clapton. He later bought and briefly used a Gibson ES-335, also because of its association with Clapton, though he damaged the body while modifying it and it later became canibalized for parts on numerous other home-build guitar projects. He also owned an Ibanez Destroyer that was used extensively on the debut Van Halen album. Originally used in its natural wood finish, he later painted it white and made several modifications to the electronics. After recording the album, he used a chainsaw to drastically modify the body shape, cutting a deep V into the bottom of the guitar, and painting it in a similar way to his later, more famous, Frankenstrat. Inset into the V, he hand carved teeth and set two eyehooks and chains; the new distinctive shape led to it being nicknamed "The Shark". He only played it for a short time in this state, however, as the modifications changed the tone of the guitar in an unsatisfactory way; he did retain the guitar for the rest of his life, remaining in his collection until his death. The final state of the Shark can be seen on the cover of Women and Children First, where he posed with the guitar.

He is most associated with the Frankenstrat, a custom guitar he built from parts. The maple neck cost $80, while the ash body was bought for $50 as the wood had a knot in it. The tremolo arm was originally taken from a 1958 Fender Stratocaster, and was later replaced with a Floyd Rose arm. He frequently replaced the neck on the guitar, going through a number of different ones through the years, and the pickup configuration was also frequently changed. In its most commonly used configuration, the guitar had a single functional pickup, a Gibson PAF (patent applied for) bridge pickup from his ES-335, which he enclosed with paraffin wax to prevent feedback. The middle pickup was removed and in its place he had stuffed a non-functional selector switch and random wires, while the neck pickup slot was replaced with a red single-coil pickup, that was also non-functional. The original selector switches and tone knobs were removed, and the volume knob was replaced with a knob labeled "TONE". The Frankenstrat, as shown on the cover of Van Halen I, was originally painted black, but was recoated with Schwinn red bicycle paint in 1979.

Before and during the recording of Van Halen II, he built a second "partscaster" guitar painted in a distinctive black-and-yellow striped paint job that earned it the moniker "The Bumblebee Guitar". That guitar was later donated to Rita Haney, the longtime partner of Dimebag Darrell Abbott, shortly after his death; it was placed in his casket and buried along with him.

Eddie Van Halen used a mini-Les Paul guitar for "Little Guitars" (Diver Down). This is the only Van Halen recording that the guitar was used for. The mini-Les Paul was made by Nashville luthier David Petschulat and was pitched and sold to him during a tour stop in Nashville, Tennessee. He later purchased a second mini-LP guitar, built to slightly different specs, the first being a honey-sunburst with mini-humbuckers, and the second being dark wine-red with a thicker body and full-size humbuckers. In 1982, Van Halen made his first guitar endorsement by launching the 5150 Baretta model with Kramer. This partnership lasted a decade. In the mid 1980s, he purchased a Steinberger GL2T guitar. Its distinctive switch-operated vibrato system can be heard on the 5150 album. In 1991, Van Halen began working with Ernie Ball / Music Man, developing the Music Man EVH model guitar — a partnership that lasted until 1995. In 1996, Van Halen teamed up with Peavey, where they developed the Peavey EVH Wolfgang; this relationship lasted until 2004, when Van Halen joined forces with Fender, initially releasing the Edward-endorsed Art Series guitars under Fender's Charvel brand and later developing the EVH brand. In 2006, Fender created the "Frank 2", a near-perfect production replica of the original Frankenstrat; Van Halen later claimed that when presented the two guitars in a blind comparison, he had some trouble picking out the original home-made guitar from Fender's production replica.

For Van Halen's 2012 tour, and early 2015 television appearances, he used a Wolfgang USA guitar with a black finish and ebony fretboard. For the 2015 tour, he used a white Wolfgang USA guitar designed by Chip Ellis, featuring a custom kill switch.

Van Halen used a variety of pickups, including 1970s Mighty Mites, which were made by Seymour Duncan and were copies of DiMarzio Super Distortion pickups. He also used Gibson PAFs, one of which was rewound by Seymour Duncan in 1978.

In an interview with Guitar World in 1985, Van Halen stated that his guitar sound style which he called "brown sound" is "...basically a tone, a feeling that I'm always working at ... It comes from the person. If the person doesn't even know what that type of tone I'm talking about is, they can't really work towards it, can they?"

Van Halen's first string endorsement deal happened around 1989 when Ernie Ball launched the 5150 EVH line of guitar strings. The gauge of the strings differed slightly from typical electric guitar strings at the time, which were 9, 11, 16, 24, 32 and 42 (in thousandths of an inch) - the EVH Ernie Ball strings measured 9, 11, 15, 24, 32 and 40. After this endorsement deal ended, guitar strings became part of the Fender EVH line and are now sold as EVH Premium Strings.

In 1993, Van Halen collaborated with Peavey Electronics to develop a series of amplifiers and cabinets, collectively called the 5150 series, which ended in 2004. Van Halen then began work with Fender, developing the EVH products and brand.

Van Halen was awarded three patents related to guitars: a folding prop to support a guitar in a flat position, a tension-adjusting tailpiece, and an ornamental design for a headstock.

In February 2017, Van Halen donated 75 guitars from his personal collection to The Mr. Holland's Opus Foundation, a program that provides musical instruments to students in low-income schools. At the 2020 Billboard Music Awards, Eddie Van Halen was honored by several former musicians he worked with. Jack White from The White Stripes, G. E. Smith, Charlie Benante from Anthrax, and Dierks Bentley gave speeches as a tribute to his career. Wolfgang Van Halen also shared several personal photos between him and his father. On October 10, 2020, Saturday Night Live paid tribute by playing a clip of him performing with G. E. Smith from a February 1987 show, which was hosted by Valerie Bertinelli. In 2020, the Pasadena Library, located in Pasadena, California, offered several archives and documents related to Eddie Van Halen. The collection included several albums, along with photographs by Neil Zlozower, and several CDs. The library also uploaded Van Halen's albums to Hoopla.

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ledenews · 2 years

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Gaudio: ‘Music Is the Best Thing We Do as People’

With life in mind, he put down his guitar. Wives, children, and careers were the primary reasons why Bob Gaudio made those difficult decisions after initially picking up the six-string instrument when he was a teenager in Brooke County. The guitar represented an escape, a fresh adventure, and a very different reality than the work whistle off in the distance. Gaudio “got out” of the Upper Ohio Valley during the first half of his adult life while working in Pittsburgh’s food service industry and attending law school at Duquesne University, but he also returned to the region (as so many do), too, for what has transpired to be his second half. That guitar, though, has been back in his hands for more than a decade, and now, soon to turn 70 years old on September 29, Gaudio has fans. “I don’t know if I would go that far, but I am still out there as often as possible because I’m alive and I love playing and singing for people. An audience gives you more energy than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s the kind of energy that humans do best because you’re all together and your sharing something that makes other people happy,” Gaudio insisted. “And the people who are there aren’t there to debate or to get into an argument or anything. They are there for the music. “Some of my friends who come to my shows think so differently than I do politically, but the shows and the music and the words have nothing to do with politics at all. Instead, it’s all about life and about living life the best way possible,” he said. “But those friends come to the shows, and they sing with me, and then we hug after the show. It’s what I call America.” Gaudio has been playing since he was 16 and even entertained folks in Yemen as a member of the Peace Corps. The Second Coming He was tinkering. Gaudio's youngest son, David, was 12 years old and interested in music himself, so the lawyer decided it was time to grab the ole’ dust rag to see if he still knew a few key chords. One evening, when he dared attend an open mic night in Wheeling, a member of the Catch Blues Band heard Gaudio take his turn to play a song or two. Following his performance, musician Michael Roeder extended an invitation. “He invited me on stage with him and his Catch Blues Band, during the Italian Fest back in 2011, and that really got me started,” Gaudio recalled. “That’s when I realize I should have been playing all along, and thanks to Matt Welsch who hired me to play some Sunday brunches at the Vagabond Kitchen. Those things really got me started. Gaudio has played many different venues throughout the Upper Ohio Valley since returning to the local music scene in 2011. “Jon Banco then placed me in his rotation soon after he heard me and I’ve had the chance to play in a lot of venues throughout the Upper Ohio Valley ever since,” he said. “So, I guess I’m a lawyer-slash-musician, and I call myself a troubadour because I don’t do anything fancy with my show. It’s me, my guitar, the microphone and the amplifier, and that’s it.” Although it may sound as if Gaudio purposely offers nothing more than a bourgeois show, the West Virginia public defender has refined his artful talents since returning to local stages. “It’s all about playing,” he insisted. “Playing is how you improve, and I was reminded about that after I had started playing in the venues again. Before 2011, I had just been picking up my guitar and playing around a little and then I would put it right back down. But when you start practicing again and when you start playing with people like Roger Hoard, you get better. The same goes with your voice, too, and that is why I usually set some time aside each day. “It’s that 10,000 hours things. Just keep playing and you’ll get better and better. It’s a process and if you wanna play well, you have to keep playing,” Gaudio said. “So, that’s what I have done. Play.” Bob with his wife, Clare, and son, David. Play that Funky Music He knows Rob Parisi. He used to play with Rob, in fact, before all of the Wild Cherry fame came thanks to winning one-hit wonder status in April 1976. Gaudio, though, veered in different directions. “I was happy for Rob and those guys because they were local and they got discovered,” he said with a smile. “It’s a shame the one song was it and that they didn’t come up with anything else because they had the chance back then. But at least they had the one hit, and I’m sure the royalties have been nice ever since. “But back in the 1970s, I was in rock bands just like everyone else who ever picked up a guitar. There were a lot of bands out there back then and our radio stations were playing their songs, and some of them even came to the area for concerts,” Gaudio remembered. You were either going to be a rock star or a major leaguer back in those days, but most of the guys ended up in the factories and the mills just like their dads.” Gaudio's shows are interactive and he will play requests if he knows the tune. These days the Troubadour performs often within the border of Oglebay Park or at a bars/restaurants in the Wheeling area. This Saturday evening, Gaudio is scheduled to play at the Belmont Brewerks in Martins Ferry from 6-9 p.m. “When I was younger, I was usually rhythm guitar and vocals because my vocals were strong then and still are even now close to 70 years old,” he said. “Singing and playing, honestly, keeps me sane and it gives me therapy because I really love what I play. Now that I think of it, I have been playing music since I was 16 years old. “Music is one of the best things we do as human beings. Some people want to insist that love is what we do best, but I have seen love destroy a lot of people, so I will stick with music,” Gaudio added. “Music separates us as humans from the other animals. We create noise and we put words to it, and it makes people feel. Music is the best thing we do as people.” Read the full article

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

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Phantasmagoria (Adrenaline Junkie Part 16)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, death, depersonalization, grief

REMINDER: you are real. the topics discussed in this is fiction and not reality. you are loved and valid, hydrate and eat 3 meals a day <3

Word count: 2,645

You were in and out of it for the next few days. Whenever your eyes would crack open and you would even slightly move your arm, you would be in immense pain before you would pass out again. You could sometimes hear the voices of your family talking to you, but never Arthur. Good, he definitely shouldn’t see you like this.

Whenever you heard Philza, he would be talking to you about all the journeys he’s been on in his hundreds of years of living. Oh yeah, you found out that he was an immortal being that can’t die. Your brain was too tired and clouded to contemplate it.

Whenever you heard Technoblade, his monotone and deep voice always eased your worries. It gave you something to focus on; if anything, his voice was the one that cut through the fog the most. He would always recite Greek myths to you, often telling you that you reminded him of a few characters.

Whenever you heard Wilbur, all you heard was him asking you questions such as ‘how was your day’ or ‘what do you think of someone-so’. He would talk to you as if you were conscious, often having one sided conversations with you. Sometimes he would bring his guitar and compose new songs, asking you if he should keep a lyric or if he should throw it away.

Whenever you heard Tommy, it broke your weak heart. It was like your little brother was a completely different person; his usually loud and upbeat tone was reduced to a quiet and broken one. He was the one that wouldn’t talk much, instead he would sit with you and eventually after a day or two (you think) of silence he would play his jukebox. But whenever he did talk (which was rare) he would tell you how scared he was seeing you like that on the table.

As time passed, you could feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into your subconscious. It was like you were fading away, but you couldn’t fight against it. You wouldn’t fight against it; you could feel your pain fading and it was a great relief. You only wished you could hear your family’s voices before you completely left them, they were fading as well. Eventually, everything slipped into nothingness and you felt… euphoric.

When you opened your eyes, everything was black. You were sure that you had your eyes open, so why was everything so dark? Was this the afterlife? You expected it to be more… heavenly. However, you weren’t complaining; your entire body felt light and you felt waves of peace waft over you. This was nice. You didn’t have much time to relax while you were living.

After a while of staring into nothingness and just peacefully floating in one place, you became restless. Sure this was nice, but your hands itched to tinker with something. You’ve never done well with sitting in one place for too long, that’s always been your weakness. You tried to push your body off from anything so you could at least float around, but that proved useless when there was nothing to push off from. When you tried flapping your wings- well, wing- you only succeeded in spinning in circles. At least you thought you were spinning in circles, the inky abyss was unchanging and it was starting to mess with your perception. Your senses felt like they were deprived, but the worst thing about it was the overwhelming silence.

So, you talked to yourself to fill the ringing silence. You were merely voicing your thoughts, repeating your lessons you’ve taught Arthur over the last few weeks. After a while, you were running out of things to talk to yourself about. So, you sighed and crossed your arms. They were very pale, you were actually dead this time, huh? You could only wait to see your brothers and Arthur when it was their time, hoping that they wouldn’t come to you too soon. It pained you to remember that you would probably never see Philza again, but who knows; the universe has a strange way of working.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” You screamed at the soft voice that cut through the overwhelming silence and whipped your head around. There stood a woman that looked to be in her early thirties with long black hair and tanned skin. You could not see the upper half of her face as it was covered by a crow mask, however her eyes glowed a bright white. She was smiling at you with melancholy and bittersweet happiness. The two giant white feathered wings sprouted from her back were glowing slightly. The powerful and intense aura that loomed around her was the complete antithesis of the gentle smile she was giving you.

“Calm down,” she flew over to you and wove her hand in the air. You immediately felt a wave of calm ease over you. “That’s better. You’ve been through so much, my little fledgling.” Her little fledgling? That was something you’ve recently started to call Arthur.

“Who are you?”

“Oh where are my manners? I’m Kristin, the Goddess of Death. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I’m here for your life.” You hummed, “that makes sense.” She tilted her head slightly and somehow the eyeholes of the mask morphed into an eyebrow raise. Was that her actual face? “You’re not scared of death?”

“No, I’ve already died twice- no, three times already. But this is- it’s different. Is that because I’ve lost my last life?”

“You’ll find out in due time. Ender, you’re everything Phil described you as and then some.”

You perked up slightly, “you know my Dad?” Her airy chuckle brought you even more at ease, “of course I do, he’s my husband.”

You gaped at her, “so does that- does that make you my mom?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, I wouldn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

“I’ve always wanted a mom. D-don’t get me wrong, Dad’s done more than enough for me he’s an amazing parent-”

“I understand and I’d love to be the mother of someone so smart. You’re destined to do great things one day, my little fledgling.” You tilted your head slightly, “greater than being an inventor?”

She nodded, her black locks swaying with the movement, “greater than being an inventor. Our time together is coming to a close.” She flew over gracefully and pulled you into a hug. You reciprocated it. Her hug felt warm and welcoming. It was hard to believe that she was the Goddess of Death, you always thought Kristin would be ruthless and cruel.

“You will face many trials and tribulations and you must persevere through them. This is indeed your reality, but you share it. Do not be afraid to ask for help. The world can be a lonely place, but remember that you are never truly alone.”

She pulled away from you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, the beak of her mask poking you. Suddenly, the weightlessness feeling disappeared and you felt a tugging sensation from deep within your chest. Your body was sent flying through the abyss, the gripping sensation you felt in your inner chest felt very intimate somehow. After a bit of screaming, you were still flying through the void. You had no idea how long you were flying for, but eventually you just crossed your arms and went limp in the mysterious embrace. Aaaanny time now.

Eventually you saw a pinprick of light far off into the distance and it was rapidly approaching you. You sighed out a drawn out “finally.” And watched as it came at you at mach speed. After you crashed into it, everything went white.

You jolted up with wide eyes and looked around panting. You saw the walls of your childhood room? So you didn’t die? Then what the hell were you doing in the void? You were so sure that you died permanently. That you lost your last life. When you glanced out the window, everything was dark. When you sat up, you felt the familiar tugging sensation of the scar tissue around the base of your wing, except it was less intense and you had less mobility in your right shoulder. You glanced at the hearts on your wrist expecting to see three empty outlines. Instead, two ruby red hearts stared at you.

Impossible. Impossible. You were in your last life so even if you didn’t die, you should still only be in your last life. Your second life was taken from you in an explosion. It should not show up on your wrist. Furrowing your eyebrows, you ignored the sound of the door opening and footsteps rushing towards you. You ignored hands appearing in your vision and hovering unsure above your hand.

You only looked up when the hand grabbed your wrist and blocked the two perplexing ruby red hearts. You saw Philza with a look of immense relief on his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” You looked back at your covered wrist and took it out of Philza’s grasp, staring at the two red hearts again in confusion. “I-I should only have one life. Where’s Arthur? Ender, he’s probably so scared. Did you leave my prosthetic in the cave?” Your rapid fire questioning was stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

“Slow down, you only just respawned.” You threw your hands up in frustration (well, you tried with your right arm, it only moved to about two thirds of your full range of movement before you felt a slight pain and a stretching sensation), “how the hell do I respawn when I was on my last life?”

“You aren’t-”

“Yes I am! Fuck man, how do you forget that?! First time: Warden. Second time: explosion! I know I just died for the last time, so how am I still here?!” You glared up at him. It astonished you that he just forgot about the first two times you died. Who forgets their own kids’ deaths? It takes a real monster to forget things like that.

“(Y/n), you’ve only died once and that was because the infection you got was too severe,” he put a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. You pushed him away and seethed, “How do you not remember! Ender, did the last two and a half years just escape you? You’re fucking immortal, almost three years is nothing to you!”

“Two and a half- (y/n). Two and a half years ago you were fourteen and you were barely just learning how to do tricks midair.”

“No, I’m twenty years old! How the fuck do you forget your own kid’s age?”

“You turned seventeen six months ago, (y/n).”

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and laughed sardonically, “I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now. Where’s Arthur?” You stood up with shaky legs and swatted his hands away. “I don’t know an Arthur. Please lay back down, you’re-”

“First you forget my deaths, next my age, and now Arthur?! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Where is he?” You gritted the last sentence out through clenched teeth.

“Who-”

“Curly red hair, freckles, always smiling, about yay high,” you flailed your hand from side to side rapidly at your mid torso, “your grandson. That ring a bell?”

“No because I don’t have a grandson. Sit down, I think I know what’s happening.”

“No. Not until I see Arthur.” You brushed his shoulder as you walked by him and out of the room. You could hear him following behind you, but you ignored him. After you ripped Arthur’s door open, you paused in the doorway.

The entire room was decorated with Wilbur’s belongings. Instead of random bags of redstone dust and small contraptions that Arthur was too proud of to throw away, piles of sheet music and the occasional book was strewn about. Instead of the poster of you Arthur had hung up on the wall (you had laughed at it at first, he still geeked out over you even though you were his parent), a picture of the family was there. Despite it being a sweet picture (it was one of the very few ones of the family where everybody was smiling at the artist and not moving around), it shook you to your core. “A-Arthur?” You whispered in a broken voice. What was going on, where was he?

You faintly felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. You however stood frozen clutching the door handle in your hand until you walked over to the nightstand. It was completely barren except for the glasses case sitting near the lamp. This isn’t right, this isn’t right at all. Arthur’s things should be there, not Wilbur’s.

“No, no, no, no this isn’t right.” You broke off into mumbling while staring at Arthur’s (or Wilbur’s?) nightstand desperately trying to find the feather hidden somewhere. Once again, you felt a hand on your upper arm. “Everything’s right, (y/n).” You said nothing as you stared at the glasses case on the nightstand. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” You barely registered him leading you gently back to your room and handing you a glass of water. “(Y/n)?”

“Why is his stuff just- just gone? Everything was there before I left.”

Philza was silent for a moment, his feathers ruffling and brushing against your arm. “...Sometimes when a person’s been through something traumatic and they’re about to die, they sort of… make up their own reality without knowing that they’re doing it. It’s the brain’s way of coping.

“This reality could last anywhere from a few days to years for them with the events seeming real, but in actuality only a few minutes have passed and nothing that the person thinks happened actually happened. It’s just the person’s subconscious mind playing out scenarios that they think would happen or wished had happened.”

You felt like you were previously walking on a stable sheet of ice before you were plunged into the icy abyss of unknowing. You felt several emotions coursing through your veins ranging from anxiety and frustration to grief and disbelief. The cup of water in your hands became incredibly blurry before you were pulled into his chest. He wrapped his arms and wings around you tightly and held your face securely against his shoulder. He started rocking you back and forth as you felt the tears silently leave your eyes and your breathing shudder. You felt yourself start to sob when a barrage of thoughts came and the reality of the situation hit you.

None of your inventions actually existed.

L’manberg doesn’t exist.

Your name was unknown.

The last two and a half years were pointless.

Arthur doesn’t exist.

Your precious Artie, the little boy that idolized you, begged for you to teach him everything you knew, followed you around like a little duckling, held your feather against his chest as he slept, enthusiastically asked you if you could take him flying, your little fledgling, your pride and joy, your son, didn’t fucking exist. You were never going to see his smile again. You were never going to laugh with him as you took him into the clouds. You were never going to cook breakfast with him again. He was never going to give you magnets again. He was never going to ask you to teach him something or ask you to help him with his own inventions. He was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back.

“I- I prom-mised him that I’d never leave him.” You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching onto his shirt. “I fucking promised him and I’m never gonna see him again.”

(A/N): ok so a little explanation, chapters 4-mid 15 didn’t actually happen. It was in the reader’s mind as after they passed out in chapter 3. There was foreshadowing (esp in chapter 4, I consider chapter 4 to be the chapter where the brain is getting used to the illusion it set up (hence the title “what is real”)). It explains why the reader couldn’t remember their own death. The line “You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom” was pretty self explanatory. In the last chapter, the souls saying “wake up, we need to get you out of here” and “don’t leave me” were Philza’s voice cutting through (”The voices ranged from... familiar to unfamiliar”)

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#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #sbi family au #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: injuries #tw: depersonalization #tw: grief

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