#burgess is still a creep
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I haven't stopped listening to Mr Sandman since the end of the serie, can you do a one shot where F!Reader is quietly singing(unconsciously) the song and Morpheus asks him what is that? please
Fandom: The Sandman
A/N: Not really a oneshot because the scenario isn't detailed enough for one, but here's little something I wrote from your prompt.
Also a note that this is the last Morpheus request I have in my inbox rn, but you're welcome to send more! It's kinda weird how I don't crush on him (yet?) but I've really enjoyed writing for him for some reason as I build my queue and see the love they get (which encourages me to write more) so more requests for him are welcome 😊 Reminder that you may also use my prompt lists if you don't have ideas of your own!
Word count: 627
Visiting Morpheus' palace every night as your physical self was comfortably wrapped up in your bed was something you didn't think would happen. You were surprised that it had happened so often, but Morpheus had told you that he liked having company and since you had shown him so much kindness, he wanted to offer you company too.
In the Waking World, you were quite lonely. There were some people you saw on a regular basis—your work colleagues, neighbors, acquaintances—but they all had their own lives outside of yours. The few friends you made only ever called or met when there was an occasion, which made you feel unappreciated and like you were contacted only if someone was bored, not because people actually wanted to talk to you.
You had told this to Morpheus when you were plotting freeing him from his glass prison, knowing how he was treated in there and the moment you had learned he was there purely because Roderick Burgess was greedy for power, and not because he had done something horrible, you started laying out a plan of freeing him. He didn't speak, and seemed to doubt your honesty until you actually filled your promise, but now he did trust you. He enjoyed you sitting there with him as he worked. Sometimes you read, sometimes you doodled something or then you spoke with him if he wasn't too busy.
Tonight, you seemed to be deep in thought as you doodled into a parchment of paper, smiling softly at each stroke. Morpheus was deep in his own work, but he was distracted as he heard you hum a tune.
"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen, give him the word that I'm not a rover, then tell him that his lonesome nights are over, dum dum dum..."
He frowned as he lifted his gaze at you, and you noticed it and realised the next moment what you had just said, and you felt heat creeping up to your face.
"What is that?"
You laughed nervously, placing your hands over your cheeks and trying to hide yourself from him momentarily. "Um... nothing." You shrugged, turning your eyes back at your doodle. "Just... something silly I've been listening lately, it's quite an earworm."
Morpheus raised his eyebrows and then an amused smile spread on his lips. "A song about me?"
You smiled at him bashfully, fiddling with the quill in your hands. "It's a really old song and when I started visiting you here, I just... I don't know, I ended up listening to it in Spotify quite often. It brings me comfort when I'm not here."
His eyebrows rose slightly, before he smirked at you smugly. "I am flattered to be remembered so fondly by you when you are awake." He chuckled at your embarrassed expression, before getting back to his work.
You bit your lip, your face still feeling hot and your heart thumping, but managed to continue your doodle anyway.
And once you relaxed, you had started to hum the tune again without noticing, but this time Morpheus didn't react to it apart from a small smile on his lips. He wouldn't say it aloud, but he was pleased that you enjoyed something that reminded you of him, even if it was only a song.
He had offered you kindness in return to you freeing him, and it felt good knowing you were enjoying your nights with him, even if your nights went by just sitting together, barely speaking.
Maybe one day he'd appear in the Waking World and spend time with you in your world for a change, surprise you by taking you out on dinner, show you how much he appreciated you too...
---
The Sandman taglist: @jesllianaquilesrolon @stygianoir // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!
#morpheus x reader#morpheus#dream of the endless x reader#dream of the endless#the sandman#the sandman x reader#morpheus fic#the sandman fic#morpheus x y/n#my works#female reader
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Go ahead girl~
💌
💌 Share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
The one I'm most excited about right now is Tideswept, so here's a little glimpse of what's in store!
The morning of her second wedding began with a hunt.
A thick blanket of mist covered the grounds around the paddock, creeping through the black firs where the riders had gathered at the edge of the forest. A soft, violet sky could be glimpsed through the treetops, but then it was barely past dawn, although Makino had already been awake when her maids had arrived to dress her.
The frost on the grass crunched under Penelope’s hooves, the little mare dancing in place, restless from her time inside and eager to stretch her legs, the silver bells in her bridle chiming as she snorted and tossed her head.
Patting her neck, Makino shifted in her seat, struggling to get comfortable, but then it was her first time riding in months, and only her third time on horseback in her life, although the things Shanks had taught her felt useless now, with none of the same freedom she’d felt riding with him.
The sidesaddle didn't help, but the king had insisted, although she wasn’t sure if it was because he thought it would keep her from attempting anything reckless or just because he thought it was more ladylike. Whatever the reason, she missed the freedom of riding astride, although it would have been difficult with her dress.
She glanced down at the black skirts where they draped over the saddle, the heavy velvet not slit for riding and cumbersome just to walk in. Her coat wasn't any better, the sable fox fur uncomfortably snug around her neck, but at least it kept her warm, the air so cold her breath fogged white, and her cheeks stung where the wind bit them. Her hair had been pinned under a black fur hat, but at least it wasn’t the crown he’d made her wear for the ball.
A loud laugh had her shoulders tensing, dragging her eyes to the king where the other riders had gathered around him, dressed in his own black furs where he sat astride his giant war horse, his voice raised as he outlined the aim of the hunt. The dogs were moving between the horses, their tails wagging eagerly. Makino wanted away from it all, but then the whole thing sounded barbaric.
She wondered idly if she’d be allowed to sit it out if she pretended to faint. Aside from expecting her presence at his side, she hadn’t been given any further instructions, but he couldn’t mean for her to participate, surely?
She observed the gathered nobility, men and women in their finest furs, and the servants and stablehands moving between them, the former carrying trays of cakes and mulled wine, so hot she could see the steam rising from the silver cups. There were so many people, with every king bringing his own servants, and so much movement between the dogs and the horses, it might have been the perfect opportunity to look for an escape, except after her failed attempt during the ball, she knew he’d have people watching her.
Her gaze shifted, past Burgess and Van Augur to Lafitte where he sat atop his mount, his black eyes observing her from under the brim of his hat.
Firming her lips, Makino met them, and didn't care if he saw her defiance for what it was.
She would find a way to escape before sundown. Where she’d gone to her first wedding with trepidation, she had been willing, but she refused to accept her fate now, and this king, while her own still lived.
A glimpse of red in the corner of her eye drew her gaze from Lafitte, only for her breath to catch, finding Odysseus among the riders, his glossy red coat bright against the black firs and the frost-covered grounds.
She stamped down her instinctive outrage, that he should have been given to one of the visiting nobles, when she knew every mount in the stables had been brought out for the hunt. And recalling how restless he’d been when she’d visited, he deserved to be allowed out to run, even if it was with a stranger.
But remembering that cheeky temperament, a part of her hoped he'd give his new rider trouble, but the stallion looked at ease, his great bulk free of the restlessness she'd expected where he waited towards the rear of the hunting party.
His rider was more humbly dressed than the surrounding kings, but then it might be a valet or one of the palace guards. He wore a hood drawn low over his face, attached to a black, fur-lined coat, buttoned up to the neck to ward against the cold. Makino couldn’t see his features, only his breath where it fogged white beneath the hood.
Her brows knitted, observing him, something acutely familiar about the way he held himself in the saddle, the regal straightness of his spine and the broadness of his shoulders under the heavy coat.
Then the hooded rider shifted, drawing her eyes to his arms, two of them, his gloved hands wrapped loosely around Odysseus' reins, and she felt a flicker of embarrassment for thinking that it might have been him, followed by a now-familiar hurt, but then it wasn't the first time her longing had made her see things that weren't there, finding him in strangers and shadows, but even if it was his horse, it wasn’t her king.
She looked away before she could be caught staring. The last thing she needed was for Blackbeard to make a demonstration of one of his allies for catching her eye.
Although as she did, turning her gaze to the white forest where it waited, she didn't catch the eyes beneath the hood following her, the grey of unsheathed steel, and sharpened by the furrow of three familiar scars.
#Shanks x Makino#Shanks#Red-Haired Shanks#One Piece Makino#opfanfic#Royal AU#fanfic#mungoe writes#fic writer ask meme#<3
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The Door That Was Never Supposed To Be Opened.
Chapter 2: The truth of the being
{Chapter 1} {Chapter 3}
{A/N: This was originally posted on AO3, if you would like to read it there you can find it HERE. I'm going to be straight up with you and tell you that this is pretty much a self-indulgent self-insert fic. I'm not gonna lie. If you don't like that, that's cool, have a good day. But if you're DTF with it, let's get right into the story.}
{Art Credit: (She also sells prints.)
That was the first time I saw the demon, but not the last. The second I was summoned to his room by none other than Master Burgess himself. Someone had dropped a glass, and he wanted me to clean it up. So I grabbed my dustpan and broom and crept into the cellar, the sound of chatter and laughter coming from the door at the end of the hall.
Entering, I see a group of men accompanying Master Burgess, chatting, drinking, and smoking. I don’t dare look at the man in the glass as I kneel and begin to clean the broken shards of crystal. My back is to the glass sphere, but I can feel the demon looking at me. I’m nearly finished cleaning when Master Burgess speaks.
“He seems to have taken an interest in the help. Stand up, and tell me your name, girl.” Master Burgess says. I set down the small broom and wipe my hands on my apron as I stand. I don’t dare look at the man in the glass.
“My name is Patricia, Sir. Patricia Wright.” I say, my voice shaking. Did the demon tell him that I had been down here? That I thought of freeing him?
“You haven’t even looked at the sphere since you’ve been down here. Why is that? Most stare, unable to take their eyes off it.” He speaks again and I freeze. He knows. He must know. But I lie anyway.
“It’s not my business, Sir. I’m just here to clean up the mess.” I am barely able to get it out. The Master walks to me and circles me. His steps are slower, less defined than usual. I can feel both his eyes and the demon’s eyes searching me. He stops in front of me and I slowly look up, making eye contact with him. I think he’s about to strike me for a moment, but instead, the edges of his mouth creep up into a smile. I can smell the whiskey on his breath.
“Good. I don’t pay you to ask questions. It’s hard to find help like that these days, right boys?” He turns to his colleagues and they all laugh. After a moment Master Burgess gets serious again.
“but it’s only natural to be curious.” He steps away and motions towards the sphere. The demon once again makes eye contact with me, and my breath stills. I know he is evil, but his eyes still hold the same sorrow as they did last time I saw him, even with his captor in the room. There’s nothing to gain from trying to act pitiful. There’s a dangerous draw to him, something that makes me want to study his face, to step closer.
“Sir, Who is he?” I ask, taking a step closer to the sphere.
“He is one of the endless. A being born before the universe itself. The most powerful being you will ever encounter. Dream of the endless. More than a god.” Master Burgess says as I raise a hand to touch the glass. In response to my movements, the man in the glass straightens his posture, but still does not speak.
“Why is he here?” I ask as the man tilts his head, once again reminding me of a cat.
“Because he refuses to give me what I am owed. This creature, with all its power, will forever be in my imprisonment until he gives me my son back.” The Master holds his cane and thunks the handle of it against the glass, but the man inside does not react. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me.
“How long has he been down here?” I step back, turning away from the sphere and facing the Master and his colleagues.
“I suppose I’ve lost count over the years. Thirty? Give or take a few years.” He says casually and my eyes wander back to the man in the glass. How could he have been in there all this time? He didn’t look much older than 30, but if what the Master says is true, he is a god and will never age. An endless being.
“But it doesn’t matter, does it? He can rot here til the end of time for all I care. Now, enough questions. I’m sure you have plenty of work to do.” the Master says and shoos me away to the upstairs once again. I wander back to the kitchen thinking about what I had just learned. Not a devil, but a god. There was a god in the basement
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
That was the last time I ever saw Master Burgess alive.
A few days later, all the servants were gathered by the new head of the household, Alex Burgess.
“As you all know, the Magus- My father- has passed. Due to this most of your services will no longer be required. I have chosen a select few to stay. Mr. Sykes and Ms. Downard have the lists of those who are welcome to stay. As for the rest of you, you have until tomorrow at noon to be completely cleared out.” Alex speaks, standing on the balcony above us. There's worried chatter as he finishes, and soon everyone is turning to Ms. Downard and Mr. Sykes, myself included.
I make my way to Ms. Downard and she just looks at me sadly, shaking her head. Tears begin to well up in my eyes and she pulls me into a hug, apologizing. I follow the others to the servant’s quarters and begin collecting my belongings.
That night, like many before it, I could not fall asleep. But this night was different. Instead of tossing and turning, I got out of bed and wandered downstairs, and into the basement where the man sat in his sphere. There wasn’t anyone else around, so I approached him.
“I’ve been let go. I won’t be returning to see you again.” I say and he doesn’t look up from the spot he’d been focusing on. “I’m going to set you free- Tell me what to do. Please. And you can be free tonight.” I place my hands on the glass but he still doesn’t look at me.
“Do you not want to be free? You have been here for so many years already. Tell me how to help and I will-”
“And what would you have to gain?” My mouth goes dry as a voice picks up from behind me. I turn to see Alex behind me, along with two members of security. “My father tried to reason with him, but you can’t. You can’t barter with his freedom.” He says and I back away from the angered youth, my back pressing against the glass.
“How long have you known about him?” He steps forward, and I can feel the anger he has bottled up from years of abuse by his father’s hand. I try to run but am blocked by his guards. After a moment of struggling, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head and the world fades to black.
#the sandman#morpheus#dream of the endless#self insert#fanfic#slow burn#eventual smut#eventual romance#ao3#ao3 link
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Destroy
summary || The reader, goddess of destruction, and morpheus were once a couple but broke up. After his captivity Dream wants to make up everything, but y/n has changed since then...
pairing || Morpheus x Goddess!Reader
word count || so far 4,077
warnings || none
a/n || soo this is the first fanfiction I have ever written and Im not a native so please be friendly :))) Also this was originally planned as a oneshot but now Im thinking about writing more partss, lets see how y`all like it. Have fun reading :))
Morpheus:
His eyelids were heavy from all his time in prison. He had shut down his brain a long while ago, not hoping for a chance of escape anymore. Morpheus felt numb, numb from the emptiness, which had taken over his body. He even felt kind of relieved when he finally lost the hope for rescue. Hope was fuelled by power and he ran out of power quickly, especially without his tools. At the end, just the thought of you, y/n, kept him believing. But even this thought couldn’t stop the cold which was waiting to creep into his bones. The numbness let him to a sort of sleep, forgetting the world around him. He didn’t even notice Alex, Roderick Burgess son, came down the stairs to his lockup trying to talk to Morpheus. The numbness helped Dream.
But throughout the years his guards got lazy. Decades ago, when Roderick Burgess was still alive he made sure all guards watching him, the Lord of Dreams, took their anti sleeping pills, so they won’t fall asleep in Morpheus presence. He inculcated them with being extremely careful and attentive. Because of the threatening things the dreamlord would do to them if they won’t.
But through the years the message got lost. Some of the guards even thought to themselves that all this was kind of a big joke. Guarding a naked man who was captured in a huge glass ball. But they wouldn’t complain since the salary was so high. And the day came when one of his keepers got too lazy and fell asleep while watching Morpheus. It was just a little, insignificant second but for Morpheus it meant a way to escape his glass jail.
As the guard fell asleep Morpheus didn’t realise it as fast as he would have in the past. His senses were rusted from the time they hadn’t been used. Nevertheless Morpheus managed to get into the mans mind. The guard dreamed of the trip to the beach he and his wife was going to make, even though he was paying more attention to the young girls playing volleyball in their Bikinis. The guard licked his lips, he liked those girls. But Morpheus had to focus.
He hadn’t been in anyones dreams for so long now, it was hard for him to concentrate. The sun was burning in his eyes, the cellar had been dark, no little beam of light had found its way down there. He stood up feeling sand under his feet. A strange feeling compared to the hard underground in the glass–sphere. Soft but grainy. He cleared his clouded mind and focused on the guard. Morpheus found his way into the guards mind and quickly took control over his body.
Awakening in his new vessel Morpheus raised his head and opened his eyes. He took a look on the right side of his belt and lifted up the gun. Walking straight to a point where he had clear ground to shoot at his cage.
Morpheus saw himself laying there, he didn’t change at all. He looked exactly like that day he got captured and also one other thing didn’t change. His love for you. Y/n. He hadn’t seen you in over a 120 years and it ripped him apart. Still, he had to free himself first.
He awakened from his trance and pulled the trigger. He shot at least 12 times at the glass sphere in which he had been captured. The cracking glass felt like music to his ears. Soon it was going to burst. Only then the other guards noticed what was going on. But it was too late.
He felt the other keepers start shooting at his Vessel, but Morpheus was by now back on the way to his own body. With a deep breath he opened his eyes, his own eyes. His view changed, Morpheus saw the man who had been his vessel until a few moments ago laying down on the floor. He must have been shot at least 6 times. Too much for the weak body.
As Morpheus stood up out of the shattered glass he thought a second about sparing the other guards - but no - those people were also responsible for his decades of suffering. He would show them as much mercy as they showed him. He killed them.
Right about that moment Alex Burgess came down the stairs. Morpheus was looking forward to his revenge. He would have preferred his Father Roderick, but due to the fact that Roderick Burgess was already dead he had to take potluck with the son. As Alex saw him standing upright he immediately started to beg not to hurt him or his husband. But Morpheus’ grace for this family was long gone, so he cursed Alex with a century of sleep. Now they were even. Morpheus felt better. Jessamy was revenged.
Dream went out of the building and his thoughts rushed over to you. Where were you? Last time he saw you, you two had this all destroying fight. No wonder since he fell in love with Destroy herself. But you never liked that name, you always preferred to be called y/n. Nevertheless this fight had been something different than your other ones. You two had the wildest fights but this one went deeper. Way deeper than the previous ones. He had really hurt you.
At this time he would aways wander through mortals dreams. He had slighted you so much you thought of him cheating. When you tried to speak to him he wouldn’t listen. Wether he turned you down or just disappeared. Now Morpheus didn’t even knew the reason for that. He had treated you like an annoying bug. How stupid he felt now thinking about his immature manner.
Flashback:
Y/n: >>No Morpheus, I don’t think you understand. Im not fucking jealous but obviously you like spending time with some girls in their dreams more than spending time with me here, in reality. But you would never listen to me anyway.<<
Morpheus: >>Y/n thats not the way you’ll be talking to me. You’ll show me respect. <<
Y/n: >>Yeah I see, the great Morpheus wants respect. For once listen to me. You don’t even react to anything I say. I know exactly that you’re cheating on me. For Destiny’s sake, just admit it. <<
Morpheus: >>I wont do this anymore. Your childish behaviour is ridiculous. <<
*Morpheus turns to the door and is on his way to leave*
Y/n: >>Childish? Me? Who’s running away all the time I’m trying to have a normal conversation with him? It’s not me!
Morpheus: >>I am done. This conversation is over.<<
*Morpheus stands right in the doorway*
Y/n: >>Fine. But Morpheus, I warn you. If you walk out that door its over. For all times and forever. I won’t forgive you, not this time. I can’t do this fucking bullshit with you anymore. <<
*Morpheus leaves*
Morpheus:
Even though he walked out that door, there was no day passing he didn’t think about you. Your beaming smile, your y/h/c hair that almost seemed to burn when you got angry, your y/e/c green eyes with y/s/c sprinkles, your freckles you used to hate that much, or your dimples that came out when you smiled, he didn’t even know what he missed the most. It was tearing him apart, not being able to take you in his arms. Although he couldn’t even remember the last time he had actually hugged you. It felt millennials ago. Lucienne, who was kind of best friends with you always said you would bring out his softer side. Banishing all of his dark thoughts and memories. He used to think of this comment as silly but remembering it now, Morpheus realised, Lucienne was right. You had this effect on him. In this moment he missed you more than ever. But there was a huge catch on winning your heart back.
Lucifer, the queen of hell, always wanted the Dreaming to become part of hell. She didn’t like the fact that there were other powerful realms besides hell. So a few months after Morpheus and you broke up, Lucifer came, kidnapped you into hell and imprisoned you. She made Morpheus an offer. Lucifer would give him you back if he would let the Dreaming become part of hell. But at this time Morpheus was still so mad at you he didn’t even thought of rescuing you out of devils fangs. Actually he wanted you to burn in hell.
Thinking about it now, led shivers down his spine. How long were you captured down there? How much did you have to suffer because of him and his arrogant foolishness? Were you still down there or did you manage to escape on your own? He could only imagine how angry you were. Even in those days back you were highly explosive. If he was honest to himself he liked your temper. In fact, he loved it. You were kinda cute when you got angry. Morpheus would often provoke you on purpose knowing full you’d loose it. Often after those little fights the atmosphere was electrified from the sexual tension which loaded as if by itself during the argument. You looked deep into each other’s eyes both well knowing how turned on you were.
What was he even thinking, he was still head over heels for you. Even after over a hundred years.
Yet, he had to return to the Dreaming first.
As he woke up he laid on the sandy ground in front of the gates leading to the Dreaming. Lucienne knelt next to him and asked if he was okay.
>>I am okay Lucienne<< he let out. >>My Lord, I knew you would return. Im so glad you’re finally here << she said relieved. He stood up, still on wobbling knees, Lucienne looked into his eyes. He could see there was something wrong. >>My Lord, she started, the Dreaming is not the same you left…<< Concern started to float his body, Lucienne was right he could feel it, something was entirely wrong. They walked through the gate which led them into the realm. His realm. But the landscape he was looking at right now, had nothing to do with the one he remembered. His Palace, a ruin, nothing more left than pieces.
As Lucienne and Morpheus walked further he got more and more conscious of the damage his absence had done to the Dreaming. >>Lucienne, where are all my dreams and nightmares?<<, he asked. She hesitated, >>Im afraid, they’re all gone Sir<<. >>What are you telling me? Do you all have so little trust in me? So little faith?<<, he shuddered. >>Not me my Lord, I never left. I knew you would return. <<, she answered. She was right, she was not the one he had to blame. >>I have to go back, Lucienne. My tools, they were stolen from me, by my capturer. I need them to restore the Dreaming. I’m too weak now.<< Lucienne wanted to stop him but he knew exactly what to do.
His thoughts drifted over to you once again. Restoring his powers was not the only reason he wanted to go back to the mortal world. He couldn’t feel you in his realm and in his siblings realms you weren’t as well. Only one place was left. The earth.
Finding his sand wasn’t a big deal, a mortal, he knew one of her ancestors, stored it and he could get it without big effort. Even though one thing was not to his satisfaction. Lucienne insisted on Morpheus taking a raven with him. He didn’t want to. Jessamys loss was too painful. He didn’t want to risk experiencing something similar. But somehow Lucienne managed to persuade him. The ravens name was Matthew. Dream didn’t like him. He chattered too much and he wouldn’t take Morpheus commands. Something the Lord of Dreams could barely stand.
His helmet, Morpheus also found easily, some demon in hell stole it, but battling him the demon failed miserably. Beating the king of Dreams, Morpheus snorted, how could this stupid creature even think of it. Ridiculous…
The last thing was more tricky. Morpheus had to find his ruby. He could feel it was used and the trace led Dream to a little town. A human had started to use the ruby and had altered it, so it was only to his own use. A stupid mortal who couldn’t even think of the power the Amulett possessed. Embarrassing. As he tried to use it against Morpheus the ruby overloaded itself and shattered into a thousand pieces. Morpheus felt power flooding his whole body, he nearly got overwhelmed by it. Dream had forgotten how much of his power he had stored in this stone and as it exploded all its inherent power was drawn back to Morpheus. He sighed in relieve. Now that he got all his tools back - you would always call them toys to devil him - he could finally face the craving pain in his heart. Without his tools he could have lived. But without you?
Impossible.
After restoring the Dreaming he immediately returned to London to search for you. Lucienne told him, she had got a feeling you were there too. As he and Matthew walked down a street they passed a huge television wall. At first he didn’t pay attention but then a little glimpse caught his sight. He instantly stopped. His whole body froze. It felt like his heart was not working anymore. He felt powerless again. >>Boss? You’re okay?<<, Matthew asked. But he couldn’t answer. There were you, it was a live stream from a kind of concert hall. You stood in a middle of a huge crowd of people, looking gorgeous and singing into a microphone. He couldn’t and a small smile curled up his lips. Matthew was croaking excitedly. >>Its her boss, isn’t it? The girl we are searching for. What was her name again?<<.
>>Y/n. Thats her name. << he replied abstracted. He was hypnotised by your look even if he could barely see you since the TV quality was so awful. He startled from his trance. >>We should go, Matthew<< he uttered under his breath. Morpheus let his sand rill through his hand and teleported him and his Raven to the concert hall. The moment he saw you on the display, he knew exactly where you were. He could sense you.
Dream teleported Matthew and him directly into the concert hall, front row. You were only a few metres away. Morpheus felt his blood pumping even faster through his veins. >>Beautiful.<< Matthew breathed. >>Indeed she is.<< M orpheus whispered back. All this years in prison he had never forgotten your face but seeing you in real life again was nothing to check against each other.
Your appearance in general didn’t change, same ripe lips, same graceful figure.
Back then, when he had seen you the last time you wore your hair in a more traditional way. Now it was longer, maybe a few inches more than your shoulder. Your y/h/c hair glistening like copper/… was middle parted and sleek. Tucked behind your ears with hair clips. The black dress you wore let a lustred feeling rise up in him. His eyes wandered over your body. It fitted you perfectly. It was tight with long sleeves and a u-cutout. It caressed your curves in just the right way. Puzzled because you looked taller he reached his view down to your feet. You wore black platform–heels stretching your already long legs even more. The heels were from Prada, Dream didn’t knew it himself, but Matthew told him so, he must have been some sort of a fashionista in his mortal life. Plus, you always had a penchant for luxury brands. Morpheus was completely lost in thought as a sparkle on your cleavage caught his attention. Morpheus hesitated, could it be possible? He sharpened his sight and stared in incomprehension. In the mole right between your collarbones a little ruby heart gleamed. His ruby heart. This was the necklace he gave to you on the day you had been together for 150 years. It was something extremely precious and important for the both of you. He gave it to you as a proof for his everlasting love. He didn’t thought you would still wear it. Slowly Morpheus let his sight glide upwards until his eyes finally met yours.
A/n: The next part is inspired by a song. The idea for this story came to me as I listened to it, so to feel the atmosphere perfectly I recommend listening to World War 3 by Ruth B while reading ;)
Y/n:
You just started singing the next song. It was named World War 3. This song was special. It really meant something to you. You wrote it after you escaped hell and it expressed your mood perfectly. It did then and it still did. Your burning anger didn’t decrease a bit, even though you knew exactly it wasn’t just anger making you feel like starting world war three, a huge part took sadness.
You were sad because Morpheus didn’t come to rescue you, even though the word sad could barely express how you felt in reality. In fact no word was able to. You were heart broken, you were heart broken since the day you separated. Well, apparently that was how you felt in the first 50 years. At some point your despair transformed into sheer hatred. Your wish was to hurt Morpheus as much he did hurt you and even more. Desire had to be happy about that. She was seeking to fuck up the Lord of Dreams all along.
Nevertheless, your friends, yes you actually did find ones on earth, always told you time would heal your wound, but they didn’t know the full truth. Anyway what were you supposed to do? Just say >> Hey guys, by the way I am one of the Endless. I am Destroy, the goddess of destruction. Just wanted to tell you this quickly, so there aren’t any secrets between us.<< They would have run away immediately. And you were so grateful for a little normality in your life.
Lovesickness worked different on gods and there was only one person who was able to fill the emptiness in your heart. But Morpheus did leave you, he didn’t want you anymore. The darkness, the hate for Morpheus had brought to you, helped you move on directly.
As you raised your sight to the audience you started to sing the chorus of World War 3. Those words stemmed from your deepest feelings, hopes, wishes… and dreams.
Dream?
No-your head was bristling itself against what you were seeing. It was him but it couldn’t be, could it? As your eyes locked your feelings almost overmastered you. Consuming rage overtook your brain. How could he even have the audacity appearing out of nowhere at YOUR concert after all HE did to you. You let all your sudden fury flow in your words and you sang:
You, you meant the world to me
Then you went World War Three
You stared into his eyes, his deep blue eyes. You could see him realising what the words you were singing meant. He knew it was him the song was about.
You, you love so mercilessly
And left me out to bleed
Flashbacks flooded your mind. You in hell, crying out in pain, blood rinsing down your whole body, hopeless and desperate. And it was all his fault.
In hell, Lucifer had found herself a hobby in torturing you. Though the fact that caused you the biggest pain was that Morpheus didn’t come for you. Once every week Lucifer would come down into your cell and with a devilish smile she would let you know that Morpheus didn’t make a move to free you. In any way.
I don’t get why
We’re meant to fall in love, then say goodbye
Gave you all my heart and all my precious time
A wordless conversation was going on between you. You knew, blank anger was written all over your face. Morpheus was only staring at you. No expression to be seen. Suddenly a little blink in his eye caught your attention. A blink of - what was this? But a moment later the glimpse of emotion was gone. Morpheus had rise his guard up again, his stone mask covered his face again and blocked your way to his feelings.
Eventually you decided not to pay attention to him for the rest of the concert because the hate that had built up for so long and an old-new feeling fought inside you. It took a moment for you to realise it was longing. Within the second you identified it the feeling was gone again. The hate had won. As usual.
After the concert ended you were exhausted. Your fans just didn’t want to let you go. You ended up performing three more songs than planned. When you left the stage your state of mind was split. On the on hand you were glad about finally escaping Morpheus piercing blue eyes, on the other hand you were damn curious why he decided to show up at your gig. This caused you headache. >>Fucking idiot.<< you murmured to yourself.
>>I know. I know I am a fool, y/n.<< a familiar voice answered behind you. You turned around and despite the fact you already knew who was speaking it still made your heart bounce in your chest. >>Y/n- <<, Morpheus said still whispering. You could tell being so close to you after all these years was as intense for him as it was to you. The air was crackling between you. You had forgotten which reaction his presence evoked in you. You didn’t know how long you just stood there staring at each other not being able to say a single word. You blinked rapidly as you startled out of your trance trying to get rid of the prickling on your skin.
You broke the silence first, >>Morpheus, what the hell are you doing in here?<< you questioned. He seemed to reorganise his thoughts until he responded >>I was searching for you, Y/n/n.<< Seriously? Now he was calling you that? >>You are not allowed to call me that anymore.<< you answered. >>I am sorry.<<, he paused. Now you were getting upset, it was the same thing as ever. You had to pull the words out of him. >>Listen, I have got nothing to discuss with you, so if you won’t tell me what you want, I propose you leave now.<< you told him coldly, anxious not to let him hear the tiniest hint of your real emotions in your voice.
Morpheus:
Morpheus heard your words echoing in his ears, he expected you to be outrageous, like you always were after fights. He expected you to yell at him, maybe throw things at him but this coldness was new. You appeared hardened like you gave less than shit on his words.
With this reaction you caught him completely off guard and this was happening rarely. Panic slowly began to creep up his throat, what if you actually were over him, didn’t love him anymore. Only the thought of it nearly destroyed him. He couldn’t think of a world without you in his life.
Not until you turned to leave he remembered he had to answer you. Getting here he thought you would scream at him and you two would fight, which would have showed him you were still in love with him as well and he would confess too. But now the tables had turned, he wasn’t sure if he still had your heart. Yeah, the time as a prisoner made him more human, nicer, as Matthew would say, but he was still Dream of the Endless and he wouldn’t be rejected.
>>I need to talk to you.<< he said, now steady again. >>Yeah, no shit Sherlock.<< you scoffed at him. Watching and waiting for him to continue. He was shocked by your harsh tone. Back then he would have disciplined you for that. No one had been allowed to speak to the King of Dreams this way. But who could blame you? As time had changed him, it obviously changed you too…
#thesandman#sandman#neilgaiman#sandmanxreader#morpheus#morpheus x y/n#morpheus x reader#dream x reader#sandman x you#tomsturridge#love#headcanons#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#destroy#dream x you#lemon#unfulfilleddesire#simp
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Martha Washington for richie my beloved menace <3
sorry this is late, but we're in the final stretch of this where it's my Main Focuses (washington, lafayette, burr, and hamilton), so these posts are going to be a bit more separated and in multiple posts bc i just have so much information on them. all my sources for the Washingtons come from Mount Vernon and the Washington papers, other information comes from an assortment of biographies. anyway, enjoy these old white people @thereallvrb0y <3
~~~
Born as Martha Dandridge on June 2, 1731 at Chestnut Grove Plantation in New Kent County, Virginia, Martha was the eldest of eight children of John Dandridge and Frances Jones. John immigrated to America in 1714 and was the son of an English craftsman. Frances was the daughter of a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses. They got married in 1730 when Frances was 20 and John was 30 because all these men were creeps. John was a moderately successful planter, and came to enslave 15-20 people. Their family belonged to minor local gentry, so while not in the Virginia aristocracy as I like to call it, they were still known and respected.
Martha received a typical female education in housekeeping, religion, reading, writing, music, and dancing. She grew to be about five feet tall with brown hair and either brown or hazel eyes.
In her late teens, Daniel Parke Custis thought she was hot, and it was totally fine that he was 20 years older than her because he was a very eligible bachelor. No, like actually really eligible as in rich, because he was so rich that his dad didn't want him to marry Martha because she wasn't rich enough. But eventually he was "as much enamored with her character as [his son was] with her person." Creepy!
But, they didn't ask for my opinion, and got married in May 1750. They had four children, two who died as toddlers. These were Daniel Custis (1751-1754) who probably died of malaria, Frances Custis (1753-1757), John "Jacky" Parke Custis (1754-1781), and Martha "Patsy" Parke Custis (1756-1773). Funny story, their great-grandfather had a condition that only children with the name Parke would receive inheritance, so idk why Daniel and Frances were screwed over since birth, bc that seems a bit prejudiced.
Anyway, they moved into Custis' house called White House (foreshadowing) on the Pamunkey River. Side note, what the fuck is going on with Virginia's rivers and why are they all so... like that??? I guess I can't talk, since I know how to pronounce Natchitoches like it's an everyday term.
The death of Danny boy's dad made him one of the richest men in Virginia. Common Custis W. He exported tobacco and had immense holdings, over 300 enslaved people and over 17,500 acres of land. Get it Martha.
Martha became the mistress of her household, which was a really significant role for any upper class woman in Virginia, but also because women were expected to be "purveyors of sociability". In simple terms, they held the family's shit together. Martha presided over formal dinners, entertained guests, and hosted balls. She also furnished her house with the finest goods to make sure everyone knew how much of a bad bitch she was.
This job also included being the mistress of the enslaved people working in the household. She acted as the overall supervisor of the household which eventually included 12 enslaved people. And she was highkey racist, so fair warning for this quote.
"The Blacks are so bad in their nature that they have not the least grat[i]tude for the kindness that may be shewed to them." -Martha Washington, 1795
What the fuck, Martha??? I'm sure you wouldn't be very happy about your circumstances if you had some entitled white lady being pissy about everything you did all the time.
She never actually expressed her views on slavery, but she didn't question it, so like. yeah she was racist. Also she was really pissed when Ona Judge escaped enslavement, feeling like she was betrayed. Like bitch. Come on. Also she never freed any of the enslaved people who she had the legal ability to.
Oh yeah and she had motherly responsibilities, which is a whole job within itself on top of all the other shit. Luckily, she had experience raising her younger siblings bc yk. Eldest daughter syndrome.
Daniel died on July 8, 1757, and I wouldn't say I'm happy about it but like.................
This death kinda fucked her over. There's no evidence she really liked him that much, but she was left alone at 26 with two children, which really sucks. Other than that, she was popping her pussy bc like. She inherited a third of his property, nearly 300 enslaved people, over 17,500 acres of land and over £40,000 so.
She couldn't legally free or sell those enslaved people because they were already "owned" by the next generation (the whole legal aspect of this bullshit is so uselessly complicated, that's all you need to know to understand). Daniel didn't leave a will, so she was the executioner of his estate. When she died, the estate would automatically transfer to her descendants.
This gave her almost all the legal rights of a man. She could buy and sell property, make contracts, and be sued in court. However, she still considered financial matters to be a man's concern EVEN THOUGH SHE GIRLBOSSED THROUGH IT HERSELF whatever. She likely hoped for another relationship for companionship and also children. Missed opportunity.
Her status as a super fucking rich widow became known and a bunch of dudes wanted in on the marthussy (that is a direct quote from my notes and i just though you had to see that). Annnnnyway, because she didn't have a need for a financial advantage, it would be a love match.
Convenient! She met this dude named George Washington. He's pretty underground, but you might have heard of him.
He was traveling to Williamsburg in March 1758 during a break in the French and Indian War. We don't know when their first meeting was, but it could have been while Daniel was alive because they had mutual friends. Scandalous.
Washington paid a visit to her house on March 16, 1758, and left a generous tip to her enslaved household workers, probably to impress her. Fucking nerd. He visited again on the 25th, then returned to war like a real man.
However, they began to plan a future together within months. Washington started renovating Mount Vernon, and Martha made an order for wedding finery. They were both such dorks.
She trusted and loved George quickly, which is shown by the fact that, although some widows wrote contracts protecting their assets, Martha didn't. Washington would have use of her portion of land inherited from her previous husband until it was passed down to the Custis heirs, and he would also become her children's legal guardian, and she just trusted him with all that.
At the end of 1758, Washington resigned from the military, and on January 6, 1759, they got married at their new home in New Kent County.
They lived 16 years at Mount Vernon, referred to as "the golden years". They had no children of their own, but raised Jacky and Patsy, and lived typical Virginian planter lives. George oversaw lands and business while being involved in politics and society, while Martha supervised the education of the children, domestic operations, and the whole mistress of the household thing. She also oversaw the making of textiles and production of clothing for the entire household. These were pretty typical gender roles for the time.
The golden years ended with the death of Patsy from an epileptic seizure in the summer of 1773 at the age of 17. More information about the Custis kids and their deaths in this ask.
Martha strongly supported the Revolutionary War, and had a wild ride during it. She traveled all over the country to spend time with George at his winter encampments every year of the six that Washington served as Commander-in-Chief. She now had another role as a public figure and a figure of the Revolution.
She ended up being with him for almost half of the Revolution, and Washington regarded her presence as essential as she boosted morale across the Continental Army. Washington even sought reimbursement from Congress for her traveling expenses.
While at camp, she entertained visiting diplomats and officers' wives, assisted with secretarial duties, even being considered a part of Washington's staff. She was Washington's closest confidant.
She also made efforts to improve the lives of soldiers. She became the public face of a campaign to raise money for supplies in 1780, and was a symbol of the American people.
The Revolution ended in her life when Washington came home at the end of the war to have Christmas dinner with his wife.
They were chillin at Mount Vernon for six years after the war, raising their two grandchildren, this time paralleling the golden years. The main difference was the fact that Washington was an international celebrity, and they hosted hundreds of guests each year from around the world, dramatically increasing Martha's workload.
Then they fucking elected Washington as the president after the whole Constitution thing, and Martha was Reasonably Pissed.
She left Mount Vernon on May 16th with Washington's punk ass nephew and their grandchildren. The trip sucked and everything went to shit. They had bad horses, a broken carriage, and a shitty boat ride. They went through parades and receptions, and the kids learned social skills, but Martha was fucking exhausted.
Like her husband, she took criticism personally during his administration. However, the most important thing to her was having good entertainment as the first lady. She initiated weekly receptions on Friday evenings, receiving congressmen, dignitaries, and local community members at the President's House. Critics, however, complained that these events were too aristocratic, but they served as a sign that the new government would be close to the people. Washington also held events, but Martha's were more diverse.
Martha grew more comfortable in her role when the capital moved to Philadelphia in 1791. Her longing to return home was highlighted by the second fucking term. They eventually did go home in March 1797.
George only lived for two years after retiring, leaving Martha as a devastated widow. She burned 40 years of correspondence between them in order to preserve their privacy.
Martha died of illness on May 22, 1802 at her home, surrounded by grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
#martha washington#george washington#history#american history#amrev#amrev history#washington administration#founding fathers#founding mothers#slay slay slay#slay all day#do it for richie 💪
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what do you do (when your dreams are destroyed)
Chapters: 1/2?
Chapter 1: Lost Hope & Broken Dreams
Relationships: Dream of the Endless & Desire of the Endless
No Warnings, Rated Gen
Words: 2530
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41953866/chapters/105307539
Or, read on below. Also, I will let the first person who can figure out where the title comes from make a writing/drabble request. Have fun. ;)
Comments and reblogs appreciated!
Part 1 || Next ->
It doesn’t happen quickly. It doesn’t happen all at once. It creeps up on Dream, and the world, dragging everything that ever had and ever would dream down with him until they were swallowed by the quicksand of an hourglass.
Slowly, Dream loses Hope.
He keeps it held tightly to his soul when his captivity begins, naked and trapped in a cage of iron and glass. (His siblings are only a call away. They may not have answered before, but surely, this time…? No matter. His creations would be waiting for him.)
The hope grows with each passing mention of Jessamy by the guards, with every whispered confession and guilty look from Alexander Burgess. All Dream has to do is wait. As long as he is patient, he will be free, and his siblings need be none the wiser.
But as anyone who has experienced life can tell you, the higher your hopes are, the greater the pain when you inevitably fall.
His dearest raven is before him, only inches away, separated only by a barrier that would normally be nothing to one such as him. And then she is gone, nothing but a bloodstain and scattered feathers, one hope destroyed by another, ruining it in turn. Death turns to him as she guides Jessamy’s soul away, but Dream spares nothing but the barest shake of his head.
Roderick Burgess had wanted Death. He dare not risk her now.
His sister leaves, gone almost as thoroughly as Jessamy. Dream can’t even properly mourn, the air having run out long ago. All he can do is stare at the corpse of his raven as it rots from the inside out, tears like stars shimmering in his eyes.
He doesn’t give up hope, of course. He is Endless. Ten, fifty, a hundred years, what do they matter to one such as him? But Dream was born of Time, and of Time he remains. Every second drags as it would for any mortal, digging into pains caused by hunger and suffocation, yes, but also of doubt and loss.
He cannot call his siblings. (They would not have come regardless.) Alexander Burgess killed one of his dearest friends and turned his back on his promises. (No one ever kept promises to Dream.) Jessamy was gone, and none from the Dreaming had arrived. None of the Dreaming should arrive, bound to the realm as they were meant to be. (Their King had never been close with them.)
More time passes, as time inevitably does, and Dream misses his centennial appointment with one Hob Gadling. (The other would merely think that Dream had refused him.)
Dream is trapped, helpless. (And he has no one to blame but himself.)
But in a game of waiting, an Endless would surely win. With the words, “I will not be coming down here again,” Dream thinks that perhaps the time is near.
Alexander Burgess holds true to his word and never again returns. His lover, Paul McGuire, however, does. He comes down to visit every few days, quietly telling Dream of the outside world, of his lover’s health, of how he would free Dream if Dream would only promise not to harm the one he loves.
Dream knows he cannot keep such a promise, so he keeps his silence instead. Perhaps he would agree once Alexander Burgess has passed - and surely it cannot be much longer now - but in the meantime, Dream will continue waiting.
Paul McGuire stops visiting one day. It is not until several weeks later that one of the guards mentions it is due to his passing, so much sooner than expected. (Death, his dearest sister, had not even visited him this time.)
Time returns to the painful crawl it was before Paul McGuire’s frequent visits. Still, Dream clings to hope, his lifeline gripped so tightly for so long that Dream has forgotten how to let it go even if he wanted to.
A bare two years pass before the guards begin discussing the waning of Alexander Burgess’ health and the subsequent influx of lawyers and doctors.
Not much longer now.
However, Dream never knows exactly when it is that Alexander Burgess passes. What he does know is that one day, no guards arrive to replace the two that leave. One day, there are no more sounds of movement upstairs, no more occasional visitors. One day, the electric lights flicker off and do not come back on.
One day, Dream is left in the darkness. Alone. Forgotten. Tormented. Abandoned.
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Desire has been patient.
They have. Truly.
Over 200 years and neither had Dream called for their aid nor had he broken free on his own. Desire had known their brother to be too prideful for his own good, but this was more than even they had expected. Much longer, and the legacy of the last Dream Vortex would be so far removed from Desire’s own legacy that any remaining trace of their blood would no longer count by the rules of the Endless.
And it would be such a shame to let a good trap go to waste.
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Desire knows something was wrong the moment they phased into the pitch-black basement. No sound, no light, no sign of life. “Big brother? Are you there?” If their voice wavers from its crooning pitch, Desire is firmly determined to ignore it.
Still, no response from the darkness. They wait, allowing the minutes to pass, before turning to leave with a quiet sigh. For all their powers, creating light was unfortunately not one of them in the Waking world. They might as well leave and return with a light so that they can actually see a damn thing -
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Desire pauses, tilting their head curiously as the quiet sound registers.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
They turn back with a crooked grin. The noise is coming from the center of the room. The entirely dark room. Desire absolutely does not want to wander over there without knowing what they are dealing with. Perhaps merely his brother being as frustrating as ever, perhaps a trap designed by the humans, or even Dream of the Endless himself.
It is possible to change their form into something that could see through the darkness, but frankly, Desire doesn’t want to. They want to greet their brother for the first time in centuries purely as they favor themselves to be, and, most importantly, they want to clearly see how low their brother had fallen. (...As well as assure themselves that they had not missed any surprises left behind for them.)
What Desire wants, Desire seeks.
And so Desire leaves.
Left behind, the being that was once Dream fractures even further.
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Desire returns to the silent darkness a few days later, having found themself distracted from return by various wants and whims. A visit to his dearest twin, a night or two spent with excellent company, a simple trade for something that would light the dim basement better than any electric bulb or array of candles.
When the light activates within what was once Roderick Burgess’ basement, Desire is not prepared for what they see.
The binding circle and cage are still there just as Desire had expected. Dream, however… Dream is no longer there to be found.
Where once had curled the pale form of their brother now lay the gaunt body of a man, skin spread so tightly as to appear skeletal. Two hollow voids stare blankly out at Desire, black tears like oil dripping from starless eyes. The being’s fingers are dyed crimson at the tips, slowly darkening to copper and black as the color spreads up his arms. His legs were much the same, but with purple and yellow mottling where the dark stains met pale white. Desire couldn’t tell if they were ink stains or bruises upon the delicate skin. The wild raven hair was at least still familiar, but is now thrice as long, trailing down past the being’s sunken ribs.
The man doesn't speak or even move. Simply lies there, wide eyes staring at Desire with want so strong, so desperate, that it nearly brings the entity to their knees even as it fills them with power.
“Dream?” Not even a rattling breath in response. Desire haltingly steps closer, drawn toward the almost familiar being as though in a trance. “Big brother?” A twitch then, and a skeletal finger weakly thuds against the glass of its cage.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Desire at last sinks to their knees, dread washing over them even as they hope that this is merely a trick, a cruel deception from their brother. The being that was once Dream watches them, lips twitching into something like a smile.
“What has happened to you, my brother?” Silence. Desire holds back a frown, instead softening their voice and asking as temptingly as they could, “Do you not want to speak to me? Do you not want my help-” The wave of pure want crashes over them before they can even attempt to force their brother’s old nickname out of their mouth.
PleasePleasePlease
WantToTALKwanttoSTAY
Please
sodarkonlydarkdon’ttaketheLIGHT
Alonealonealone
PleasePleaseSiblingPlease.
WishIhad-
WishIhadn’t-
Please don’t leave me alone
PleasePleasePLEASE-
Golden eyes fly open as Desire gasps, trying to hold onto their own presence of thought against the deluge washing over them. “Brother, brother, I’m here.” The words leave them in a rush as they push themselves forward, reaching for whatever remained of their brother to at least try and calm him.
Their hand catches in the space above the gold-painted circle. It can go no further.
The outpour of desire washes away as quickly as it came, leaving only vague impressions and a crushing sense of resignation behind. Desire aches with it. Their brother’s empty eyes stare blankly at them before closing, black tears pooling beneath his head, staining his face with ink.
“Ask me for help, brother.” A single eye cracks back open. “Come on, big brother. Just one simple word.” A helpless tug at his domain, another cresting wave of emotion, and no words of plea or permission from his brother.
The former Dream’s mouth opens, and not a sound comes out. His eye slide shut with what is almost a sigh and, with a shudder, the body lies still. At once, Desire realizes the sinking feeling of dread in them was correct.
Dream had tried to call. And this time, none had answered.
Not even Desire.
As an Endless, there were certain rules they were not meant to break, among these was the rule that they were not to meddle in other’s affairs and domains without permission. Considering the start of all this, Desire was far past meddling.
Considering what happened to their brother, he may no longer have a domain to trespass.
Desire wants answers. Wants the attention and respect from Dream that they and their twin deserve. Wants to see the occasionally mischievous, often cold light of the stars in their brother’s eyes. They want their brother back.
And what Desire wants, they get.
Luckily, they don’t even have to leave the room to set their new plan in motion. Their brother’s emotions twist into resignation and misery as Desire steps away, but they don't falter in collecting an abandoned security baton from a table toward the room’s exit.
The one who was once Dream’s eye twitches open again at the scraping sound coming from before him. Both empty voids fly open as they watched Desire scrape away at the dried paint, toiling away on their knees in a damp, dirty basement, just to free him. He tries to move, tries to press his hand against the glass, give some sign of gratitude, some plea to not stop, but barely manages to shift his fingers.
Desire glances up nonetheless, gold eyes sharp and burning. There is a strangely bright sheen across them. “I feel your desire. I could not sense it from beyond this room, but I feel it now. Leave it to your little sibling, yes, big brother?
Lips painted with black ichor twitch up. Desire falters, their facsimile of a heart aching, and returns to work.
It takes time, far more time than Desire would have preferred before the paint is at last chipped away. Their brother immediately tenses as though struck, watching with his now constantly tear-filled eyes as Desire crosses over the circle, pressing one manicured hand against the glass.
Desire swallows painfully, leaning forward until their forehead presses against the cage, breath clouding the glass. “Sweet brother, hold on just a little longer.” The being’s eyes gaze back at them, something that Desire can’t identify beyond pain passing over his oddly unfamiliar face before the empty voids squeeze closed.
Desire knows not what that meant, but they have a feeling it is nothing good.
They are not as skilled in the physical department as some of their siblings. It would be both wiser and faster to leave and return with either the tools or the aid they likely needed. But leaving would mean abandoning what was left of their brother, and Desire fears that this time when they return…
There will be nothing left.
So instead they stay, inspecting the cage for signs of weakness. They were Endless. If it takes another century of beating the stupid human weapon against the glass to free their brother, they will do it. (This is their fault, after all.)
But iron rusts without care and welds are not always as strong as some think.
Desire grits their teeth with each swing, not bothering to count as each one lands. All that matters is putting more force into each blow than the last.
When at last a crack echoes through the room, they nearly want to cheer.
The glass was thick and difficult to break, but Desire only needed the smallest holes to squeeze inside, shape shifting and reforming around them as they settle next to their brother, carefully brushing the wild, oily hair from the other’s face. Their brother cannot recover quickly enough to answer their questions here, not with so little air after so long, so little power left to use, and no food or care to be provided. If Desire did not know better, they would consider this place part of Hell.
Neither can Desire take them to the Dreaming without their brother’s explicit permission - if there is even anything left to return to - but they could take him to their home. Their brother needs comfort, needs indulgence and healing, and who better to provide than the one that knows every desire?
With once-Morpheus held gently in their arms, Desire takes them away from the broken cage, appearing within the Threshold moments later. Their brother gasps in a breath, eyes wide as their body finally began to respond as it should after two centuries of disruption.
Desire presses a gentle kiss to their brother’s brow, holding him close as he shudders and silently weeps against them. Desire had caused this, and there is nothing more that they can do to fix it.
Nothing but hold onto their brother, and hold onto enough hope for the both of them.
#I will let the first person who can figure out where the title comes from make a writing request#desire of the endless#dream of the endless#the sandman#the sandman fics#morpheus sandman#writing#fic#sandman fic#desire and dream
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Surviving Trelance Holden
I finally have the courage to share my story. This was a tragic moment in my life, but today I am a stronger woman because of it.
I decided to write this and post my story because I saw other women doing the same on this creep. I’m from Southside Phoenix, and have been here all of my life. Some people hate the desert but I made this my home.
The story begins in Hermoso park on the Southside. I was only 12 years old at the time and trying to act like an adult. At this park the local gang hangs outside and this is when I had my first encounter with Trelance aka Tre.
I thought he was cool, and I was mesmerized by his tattoos and dreads. He invites me into his car and pulls out a lot of money, the most money I have ever seen in my life at the time. He tells me that I can make this money too if I just stick with him and I can be great too. He tells me that I am his lil sis and the “Southside is family” and that he has me for now on.
A week later on my way back from school, I walk by 21st and Burgess in Phoenix, and I see Tre outside. He asks me if I need a ride and I say yes what harm could it be. I tell him where I live and then we drive off. My home was only 5 minutes away and then I noticed Tre started driving past my home. He says he has to make a stop and he needs his lil sister.
We turn down this street on 30th st and Nancy Lane. We pull up to this house and I notice a lot of men outside blasting music and hanging outside. Tre tells me don’t be scared now lil sis, and to come in and that I have nothing to worry about. He’ll take me home after. I follow him in what people would I guess call a “Trap House” and he tells me to lock the door. We head to this room, he tells me to relax and sit on the bed, and then he tells me to hit this blunt. I never smoked before but tried it. I immediately became paranoid and asked Tre if he could take me home. I know that my Aunt and Grandma are worried.
Tre says No and gets up and goes to lock the door. I started crying and begged him to let me go home. He then punched me in my face and told me to stfu and sit there and be quiet. I try to run out of the room, and then next thing I know I feel myself being lifted in the air and then everything went in slow motion and I felt my body coming back to the ground head first. I blacked out.
Not sure what happened after this but I woke up with blood all on my jeans and my bookbag and phone missing. Sad to say, but this is how I lost my virginity. I walked back home, and went into my room. This day forever scarred me and if any young woman went through something like this please call the police. I regret that I didn't call them in this situation. I feared that Tre would harm me and my family and that “Southside is family” and I shouldn’t hurt my family. Years later I no longer have that family and I regret this happened to me and that he is still on the loose even after being sent to prison.
If you know this man, please speak out. He is a danger to women to this day still. I’m older now but girls in my neighborhood have told me that he has contacted them. The police are unable to do anything because people live in fear and are scared to speak out, because of this “Southside is family” BS. I wanted to share my story so any woman that comes across him knows that he is a rapist and predator. Today he traffics young women and young girls from Phoenix Arizona to Las Vegas, Sacramento, Los Angeles, and back to Phoenix. Please spread the word so others can avoid this menace. Protect our girls!
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A Clockwork Orange
When I first watched this film when I was a teenager, I was taken aback by the chaotic violence that this film shows off within the first half hour. The opening scene will give anyone the creeps the way the main character ‘Alex’ stares into the camera as he narrates.
The first few minutes, specifically (1m:00s-1m:59s) we see Alex and his buddies drinking milk. Usually drinking milk in films represents innocence, youth, purity, and maternity. But Stanley Kubrick plays with this idea, because milk in this film represents a character’s mental health is in question, that there is no more innocence left in this person, it’s used in this film to enhance the brutality of this character. Most movies there's a motive or an intent to cause or inflict harm on others. Malcolm McDowell’s character ‘Alex’ has none of those traits. He strictly goes out at night with his buddies to beat and rape for the fun of it. McDowell’s character really reminded me of Heath Ledger’s performance in The Dark Knight. Especially this scene (8m:46s-9m:05s) where Malcolm’s character narrates a scene when he’s driving a car playing ‘Hogs of the Road’ where they don’t move out of the way for upcoming traffic, the traffic moves out of the way for them. Similar to when Heath Ledger was walking the streets of Gotham yelling out “HIT ME!!” when Batman was driving his bike. But the camera stays still on Malcolm’s face. A face of madness and sin. Ten minutes into the movie and you can tell that Malcolm’s character is absolutely mental. After making a realization that the Joker and Alex’s character are similar, I then found out that Heath Ledger based his performance of the Joker on Malcolm McDowell’s work in this film. Which I thought was mind blowing because they are both knockout stellar performances from both actors. They both know how to keep you on edge throughout the whole film.
As the film goes on, you get the sense that no one is safe around Alex. (34m:41s-35m:19s) We see Alex hit two of his friends with a cane and send them flying into the water. He then cuts Dim’s hand with a knife in which it completely catches Dim by surprise. This scene shows that whoever seems to question Alex’s authority, will see the implications for having such doubt.
A Clockwork Orange is based on the dystopian satirical black comedy novel by English writer Anthony Burgess, which was published in 1962, nine years before it was made into a film. Stanley Kubrick, who is the director, writer and producer for this film, mentioned his intent for the film after first reading the book was to question what it means to have free-will. According to Kubrick “The central idea of the film has to do with the question of free-will. Do we lose our humanity if we are deprived of the choice between good and evil? Do we become, as the title suggests, A Clockwork Orange?”.
After an hour and half into the film, we see exactly what Kubrick is talking about, (1h:23m:00s-1h:23m:53s) Alex is put to the test to see if the treatments he received to reverse his mental state of harming human beings worked or not. He’s abused on stage to see if he would retaliate. A naked woman comes next to see what his reaction would be after being smacked around and humiliated in front of a crowd. Especially since Alex hasn’t been with a woman during his time in prison. And to a surprise the treatment for Alex seemed to work. For some strange reason, it was rewarding to see Alex tortured in prison because of the acts he did when he was a free man.
When Alex is brought back to society, he ends up right where he left off when he was last free, running into his old mates; except not in the way you would think. The last twenty five minutes of the film had a good twist to the tale. Alex runs into his old mates, and are pleased to see him, but pleased in a way that they can get a little redemption on Alex. They practically waterboard him for fun and leave him out in the woods in the middle of nowhere. What I liked about this part of the film is that Alex is now the one in need of dire help, and he ends up on the doorstep at a household where he assaulted a man, and raped his woman. (1h:49m:33s-1h:49m:58s) Alex is taken in by the people he assaulted earlier in the film. He thinks the host doesn’t recognize him or what he did. The tension rises as we figure out that the host knows exactly who Alex is. Not only that, the host knows exactly what he wants to do with Alex. He starts to have a PTSD moment when he hears Alex singing in the tub ‘singing in the rain’ which is the exact song Alex sang when he assaulted the old man. Which I thought was an awesome scene because it showed how fresh the memory is for the host the night his life was flipped upside down.
I give this movie a rating of 4.5 out of 5. I thought Malcolm McDowell’s acting was phenomenal, and the story itself was one to remember as well. What I loved the most about this film was that you never knew what was going to happen next. I really enjoyed the strangeness of it all. There isn’t a movie that can compare itself to the chaotic tone besides maybe The Dark Knight, strictly based on the characters that are similar and how both thrive on producing chaos. But for Alex, the character arc is something I’ve never seen before. Someone who was so ruthless, strange, psychotic and unforgiving, as well as the leader of a group; turned into someone who doesn’t even know what's right or wrong anymore, or unable to tell who is using him for the benefit of the doubt. What made me realize ‘what comes around goes around’ is how Alex was treated when he got home from prison. It was as if his parents didn’t even want to know him anymore and moved on. His actions in the past dictated how he was going to be treated in the future. The end of the film we see Alex in the hospital and his parents come to visit (2h:04m:00s-2h:04m:16s). His parents visit him and have full sympathy for what he went through in prison. What I found funny was that Alex’s parents even blamed themselves for what he became, they blame themselves because they feel it is their fault that he is in the hospital. What the parents need to do is just forget they had a son, because he will be mentally insane for the rest of his life dealing with who he was in the past and now who he had become in prison as well as dealing with the trauma of the mental studies done on him.
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I posted 1,052 times in 2022
That's 42 more posts than 2021!
284 posts created (27%)
768 posts reblogged (73%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@asknotbug
@tumbleaboutit
@merlinsbed
@spiritofcamelot
@gwen-tolios
I tagged 891 of my posts in 2022
Only 15% of my posts had no tags
#0 - 60 posts
#instagram - 233 posts
#ifttt - 139 posts
#short story - 59 posts
#original fiction - 50 posts
#america - 49 posts
#writing - 46 posts
#gwen writes - 35 posts
#flash fiction - 35 posts
#writeblr - 29 posts
Longest Tag: 101 characters
#damn just to check i tried using my middle initial and my city and still i'm not in the google search
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Books Where The Ace Character Has A Relationship
There needs to be more of these. Some of us do want relationships!
All these books have canon ace characters - word on the page vs headcanons fyi.
1) Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. This book gets a lot of buzz, as it should, for its portrayal of a black ace girl navigating a relationship. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31625039-let-s-talk-about-love
2) Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver, and the other stories about Parole. This has a poly relationship with an ace character and a whole lot of other rep. It reads like a blockbuster action movie, if that's your thing. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31938167-chameleon-moon
3) Thaw by Elyse Springer. Featuring a relationship between a model and a librarian, I love how this is such a standard romance novel. All the beats are there - it's just got an ace woman in it ^_^ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32673586-thaw
4) The Spy with the Red Balloon by Katherine Locke. Wolf is demisexual (hello ace brethren) and his romance is his B-plot. This is completely okay because trying to sabotage Hitler takes priority. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38650956-the-spy-with-the-red-balloon
5) Returning to You by Gwen Tolios. That rare partnership between an ace and aro character (neither of whom are aro ace), full of pining, family drama, and going from friends to lovers. As aces do. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60497147-returning-to-you
6) Three Stupid Weddings by Ann Gallagher. Fake dating, friends to lovers, but make it gay and ace? Yes. You need this. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41074778-three-stupid-weddings
7) His Quiet Agent by Ada Maria Soto. This is a classic ace romance, released way back in 2017, that reads like the gentle sickfic in the hurt/comfort tag on Ao3. Nurse your ace coworker back to health, and now you're a couple. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35238838-his-quiet-agent?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_9
8) Making Love by Aidan Wayne. This features an aro and a ace character realizing they're falling for each other in a world of cupids and succubi. Suuuper fluffy. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33120447-making-love?ref=nav_sb_ss_1_26
9) Enchanted Soles edited by Sasha Miller. This is a queer anthology featuring stories about shoes, but the last story called Hallowed Veil is the gold star. It features TWO ace characters, one in a relationship, and highlights the spectrum of desires. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30075296-enchanted-soles
10) How to Be Ace: A Memoir Of Growing Up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess. Non-fiction graphic novel about growing up ace, including dating troubles. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54403237-how-to-be-ace
12 notes - Posted June 28, 2022
#4
Undine's Child
Her watermark was creeping down her legs. Each day, another scale. She slathered lotion on, hoping to prevent the itch as it replaced skin. She showered daily, seeking the soothing sense of water.
Her dad had warned her. Going to college so far from saltwater might be a problem, but she'd dismissed it. Surely, she could spend a semester away from the ocean.
And she had, her first year. And her second. But her first scales had started showing up before Thanksgiving this year, hidden only by jeans to be washed away when she went home for Christmas. Now, April was around the corner, she had a month left of classes, and her scales would soon peak out of her workout capris.
They always started on the back of her thighs, hard to see, hard to scratch. Better than her hips, where waistbands would chafe, or other more obvious places. There was a lot of space on her thighs, and they were easy to hide, but they'd hit the back of her knees this morning and they'd continue down the back of her legs.
Spraying saltwater on them hadn't worked. Nor soaking in a salt bath. She needed the ocean, her legs needed the relief of her dad's home, but she needed to pass her classes. Needed her degree.
Give me five weeks, she prayed. Five weeks to hide what I am.
And then the summer to figure out how to deal with them for all of next year.
29 notes - Posted February 2, 2022
#3
Accouncing Tomorrow and Beyond
Hey Tumblr!
I'm releasing my own short story collections! I have two planned, but the first, collecting all my contemporary and science fiction stories, will be out Feb 16th!
Stories include:
🌈 realizing you're gay for a dead friend so you might have brought her back as ghost?
🐈 being so bored as the go-to geneticist for show cats you decide to break the law
🍺 a girl getting back at her alcoholic father by vandlizing all the bars
🦸♂️ a gay superhero faking his death because he doesn't want to fight his enemy anymore
🏒 a girl surviving as the sole girl on the HS hockey team due to spite
🤖 an android realizing logical fallacies can impact artificial intelligence as hard as it hits humans
🦜cosplaying as pirates during a hot air balloon race and doing things you really, really shouldn't
AND MANY MORE.
Kindle only so far, but more is on the way! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RWB711C
29 notes - Posted February 11, 2022
#2
Aro Books For Aro Week
It's Aro week! I've read more ace books than aro books, but I did want to share a few.
1) Common Bonds. This is an anthology where each story features an aro characters - how cool is that? https://bookshop.org/books/common-bonds-a-speculative-aromantic-anthology/9781775312970
2) A Promise Broken by S.L. Dove Cooper. This is the first aro rep book that I read, so I'll always remember it just for that, but it's also a lovely tale about grief. I will say it's a very active read - the reader has to put together a few clues about the story because the narrator is mostly an unreliable child. https://dovelynnwriter.com/books/a-promise-broken/
3) Making Love by Aidan Wayne, though the aro rep is small. It's noteworthy cuz Leeta comes from a society that is typically aro and she's an exception, falling for an ace cupid. This book is just the fluffiest. https://www.amazon.com/Making-Love-Aidan-Wayne-ebook/dp/B01MRA15MR
4) The Dragon of Ynys by Minerva Cerridwen. This is a cozy, low-stakes fantasy with an (older!) aro-ace knight on a quest to find a missing person. Queer rep all around. https://bookshop.org/books/the-dragon-of-ynys/9781945009686
5) Tarnished are the Star by Rossie Thor. This book got a lot of support from the ace community, but the character is actually aroace - both! If you like steampunk, but want it in space, this is for you. https://bookshop.org/books/tarnished-are-the-stars/9781338312270
6) The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee. Felicity is aro/ace and is far my fav rep I've read. You know right away she'd rather pursue science than marriage & then whoops! She's tangled with pirates. While it's the second in a series, they're world series so there's no need to read book 1 to understand this one. (I think this one is better anyway.) https://bookshop.org/books/the-lady-s-guide-to-petticoats-and-piracy/9780062795335
7) Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow. This one is another aro/ace MC, but it's so casually queer w/ other identities and disabled rep. I love it. Noteworthy for being an MG read and contemporary. All other books on this list are SFF and either adult or YA. https://bookshop.org/books/hazel-s-theory-of-evolution/9780062791177
8) In the Ravenous Dark by A.M. Strickland. I devoured this book last year, but know it's an *upper* YA dark fantasy with a lot of necromancy and violence. Aro/ace side character, but also poly rep. Did want to call out there are spicy scenes in this book! It may not be for every aro-ace reader.
https://bookshop.org/books/in-the-ravenous-dark/9781250776600
9) Returning to You by Gwen Tolios. Aka me! This is releasing in June and is a contemporary romance between two women, both of whom are bi, where one is ace and one is aro. https://www.amazon.com/Returning-You-Gwen-Tolios-ebook/dp/B0B4FDYNP6/
454 notes - Posted February 22, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
10 Ace Books For Ace Week
As an ace author and reader, I'm all for more examples of rep to read and authors to support. Below are just a few of my favs, but I have a larger list here: Gwen's Ace Book Recs and you're always welcome to hit me up for recs!
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1) The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee. Felicity is aro/ace and I love how up in your face her aceness is. A true integral part of the character. You know right away she'd rather pursue science than marriage & then whoops! She's tangled with pirates. While it's the second in a series, they're world series so there's no need to read book 1 to understand this one. (I think this one is better anyway.) https://bookshop.org/books/the-lady-s-guide-to-petticoats-and-piracy/9780062795335
2) Common Bonds. While actually an anthology with an aro focus, there's also ace rep and I love how varied this collection is. So many aro and ace stories all bundled up neatly is still such a dream. https://bookshop.org/books/common-bonds-a-speculative-aromantic-anthology/9781775312970
3) Making Love by Aidan Wayne. Thinking about this, it might be the first book I've read where the ace character wasn't also aro. It's about an ace cupid trying to help someone find love, and missing a fair amount of cues. It's a fluff dream. https://www.amazon.com/Making-Love-Aidan-Wayne-ebook/dp/B01MRA15MR
4) Returning to You by Gwen Tolios. A friends-to-lovers romance between two women, both of whom are bi, where one is ace and one is aro. Be prepared for a fair amount of family drama from both sides (including fake dating!) https://www.amazon.com/Returning-You-Gwen-Tolios-ebook/dp/B0B4FDYNP6/
5) How to Be Ace by Rebeca Burgess. Memoir graphic novel full of experiences that I could relate to that's good to share with local aces or allos. My local ace community has 100% passed around a copy of this. https://bookshop.org/a/55449/9781787752153
6) Tarnished are the Stars by Rossie Thor. This book got a lot of support from the ace community, it's own voices and has quite a bit of queer rep. If you like steampunk, but want it in space, this is for you. https://bookshop.org/books/tarnished-are-the-stars/9781338312270
7) Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow. Aro/ace MC, but it's so casually queer w/ other identities and disabled rep. I love it. Noteworthy for being an MG read. I'm so glad to see ace rep hitting middle schoolers. https://bookshop.org/books/hazel-s-theory-of-evolution/9780062791177
8) Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire. This is the first time I saw 'asexual' in a book, and for that it will always be dear to me. This launches a great series about children who have returned from portal-fantasy adventures and the trade versions all have amazing illustrations. https://bookshop.org/a/55449/9780765385505
9) Simply an Enigma by Brittany Evans and Chelsea Lauren. I'll admit I have a love-hate relationship with this book, but it's such an accurate portrayal of the journey to identifying as ace it has a permanent place on my shelf. https://bookshop.org/a/55449/9781732464315
10) Three Stupid Weddings by Ann G. Cute, short romance about bringing a friend to weddings as your date and oh! You're now a couple by summer's end. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41070264-three-stupid-weddings
571 notes - Posted October 27, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Burgess Robinson (JJBA OC)
Name: Burgess Robinson
Age: 47- time of death
Residence: London, England
Occupation: Dean Of Hugh Hudson University; Xie Triad Member
Ethnicity: British
DOB: November 9th, 1958
Species: Human
Headcannon Voice Actor: Tomoaki Maeno (Japanese Voice Actor); Jason Douglas (English Voice Actor)
Background: Ever since he was young, he lived a dual life. He would put on a respectable societal image but in his private life engaged in regular delinquency. When he got into university he had to put that image on the backburner due to wanting to mold himself as a respectable member of society. He secretly hated having to conform but kept his desires on the downlow as he eventually graduated and became a professor while still longing for his secret want to do violence. That is until he met Ian Chan who gave him a chance to indulge in his tendencies and help him use the school as a front to get recruits and do his criminal activities. He accepted his offer and finally got to indulge in his dark tendencies once again. He continued to put on a front of being a decent person while also being the right hand man of the leader of the Xie Triad. He eventually became dean after he secretly arranged the previous one to die so he could take over and have full domain of the school. However, some of his activities were beginning to be uncovered by Lorenzo Ganassa, the theater professor, he instantly killed him and made sure his tracks were covered. However, that prompted Lorezno's widow, Giuletta, to come to the university to find her husband's murderer. This along with the group formed around Aaliyah Jones were beginning to create problems for the triad, especially defeating students and faculty who were members of the triad. He then was eventually uncovered as her husband's murderer and had a confrontation with everyone which led to a mutual kill between him and Guiletta.
Personality: Despite putting on a image of kind and caring man, underneath is a violent, crazed madman who longs to show his true self and hates playing into society norms. He only sees the image as useful to get him places but will disregard it when someone finally figures out what he is like. He is utterly cruel and revels in making people suffer. He also has trained himself to make sure he doesn't slip but at times it can be hard for him to keep the mask up. He also is not above harming children and animals and hates dogs but secretly keeps it under wraps to again appear more friendly. However, he is always relieved when Ian Chan allows him to do his next assignment. He also loves to gloat to people who thought of him a decent man and actually cared. He also has a very lustful side as well which he has kept hidden but again had to keep up the image. When it comes out he has no reservation about being a creep to women. He also makes sure to keep those faculty and students who are members of the Xie Triad under his thumb by threatening them with violence if they really blow their covers. He is also not above getting rid of them if they don't prove useful anymore.
Stand: Up Against The Wall
Power- B
Speed- B
Range- C
Durability- B
Precision- C
Potential- C
His stand has the power to create a wall out of any material and he can make people stick to any of those walls. If the walls was returned back to normal then his victims can be crushed. His stand looks like a purple anthromorphic wall that is colored purple it has two hands and feet. And it is about five feet. It also has black eyes and a mouth.
* His name is based on Alex from Clockwork Orange's surname in the book.
* His last name is based on Tom Robinson. And his stand is based on their song " Up Against The Wall".
* Summer never formerly met before she went to the school. However, he did know about her through her father and Ian Chan told him to keep an eye out for her and Aaliyah.
* The reason why he never tried to marry was because secretly he didn't want to be tied down to a woman. When the image reason was he was married to his work.
* He then and now loves torturing dogs and secretly hated it when Mo and other dogs came near campus.
* Mannish Baby as well didn't meet him personally.
Created through picrew.me/image_maker/1041191/…
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good girl
pairing: adam ruzek x reader
summary: in which adam takes you to a safe house for protection and things become steamy.
word count: 1.6k
warning adam being cute with sexual content.
requested by anon
note: ok ok i want i protective adam.
the situation was unusual to say the least.
you had a rough upbringing. dancing at a strip club for quick cash is what got you through most days. it was all in all a shady place to be at. you didn't like to sit around there. just quickly going in there, dancing then returning home if you didn't had any other plans that night.
you didn't know how you found yourself in the sudden position you were in right now.
sitting in one of the offices with intelligence upstairs. a mug of coffee was in front of you, luke warm because your nerves were shot. you glanced down at your nails. a chipped black that you had to repaint soon.
your fake lashes were stilled glued and your winged eyeliner was probably a little smudged, which was to be expected when you had been there for a few hours.
the club you now formerly worked at was into some bad stuff. drugs, money, and a pinch of trafficking is what currently had you in shock. how easily you could have been picked up by the creeps that hung around there.
"ruzek! come here." hank yelled. he was in his office with the fbi. they were working with intelligence since they've been tracking the ring for a couple of months now.
you heard them talking on the other side of the wall while detective upton sat with you. she knew you had nothing more to say but was with you for comfort. she and ruzek had a soft spot for you.
you were a little naïve but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew. you had known a little about what was going down. upton and burgess helped you because you had put it in a box in the back of your mind instead of processing the information. they wrote down any information that helped them, which it did.
you were going to be placed in a off the record house soon for a few months to make sure nobody knew where you were or that you had told them valuable information about the place you worked at.
ruzek walked in a few minutes later with a grin. "looks like we're going to be around each other for a while longer." he seemed happy about it. you weren't sure why he thought you were somebody to be around but nodded anyways, humoring him.
"what'd voight say?" she mumbled, looking at ruzek.
"i'm going to take y/n to the safe house while the deal goes down to make sure nobody knows about or comes for her." he said, speaking in a low tone while glancing in your direction.
she patted your hands in a kind gesture. "stay safe out there y/n. i'd like to get to know you better after this, if that's okay with you? you seem like a good person and friend." you tilted your head up and smiled at her.
"i'd like that, thanks upton."
"hailey." she corrected you, showing her first step of friendship.
"thanks, hailey upton." you joked, smirking and she shook her head playfully before walking out.
"ready to go?" the other cute blonde asked.
you stood up, walking to the counter and dumped your coffee in the sink. "as ready as i'll ever be i guess."
he gave you a small smile and gestured for you to walk out first. "how gentlemanly of you."
he chuckled. "i try!"
the both of you walked out to the dark blue dodge and you got in the passenger seat, buckling yourself in before he did the same and took off. "so, how far is this place?" you asked, adjusting the a/c vent to the side of you, so it was blasting directly on you.
you hoped the air would wake you up a bit. "not far. maybe eight minutes out?" he scratched the back of his neck, thinking and estimated.
"oh okay." you replied, the next few minutes were of silence until you walked up the sidewalk and to the front door.
"so i know this is technically an off the books house but i'd like to clear the house anyway, just to make sure. once we get in i want you to close the door and only use one lock until i say it's okay."
you nodded. "in case we need to make a quick exit."
he looked in your direction quickly with a wide smile. "exactly, good girl y/n let's do this."
he turned his head again, using the key to unlock the front door and you stood there frozen. your neck flushed and all you could think about was him repeatedly
saying in your head, good girl.
geez, it's been a weird night and you may need therapy after this whole thing was over.
as soon as he stepped in you followed the plan and used the lock that was connected with the knob, standing over the crack of the front door as another barrier. adam made quick work to clear the few rooms and yelled, "clear!"
you fastened the other two locks across the door. a dead bolt and chain. making you feel safe already. he walked back in the room and as soon as you saw him, you made your way to the couch to sit down.
"i don't mean to keep asking a bunch of questions but how long do these things typically take? my nerves are fried right now and i just want to be able to sleep comfortably." you admitted.
he let out a deep sigh and shrugged, "well with setting it up and everything i'd say two and a half hours. if they make it difficult than three." he leaned over to grab the remote and then settled back in the couch cushion. he held the remote out to you and you put on a scary movie.
"interesting choice." he commented, looking at you from the corner of his eye.
you set the remote back down onto the table and shrugged. "better to focus on jump scares then what's actually going on right now."
"that's fair." he agreed, but knew he couldn't pay attention much since he was focused on your safety.
an hour in, you had moved on the couch, closing in on adam. any second now you would touch his arm. you didn't notice this since your eyes were glued to the screen but adam looked down and noticed the lack of room that you were supposed to be away from him.
he gulped, looking around the room before trying to scoot over but it was too late and you leaned back into his shoulder. "oh gosh i'm sorry!" you squeaked and you turned to look at him, noticing the amount of non-existent distance you were from his face.
"uh." he chuckled, looking into your eyes. they were such a pretty shade to him. you were both sitting there, still and breathing heavily. he noticed your eyes flicker to his lips and before he could think twice, he leaned in.
you put your hand on his cheek, dragging him closer and soon enough he laid on top of you. his body held you securely in place and you felt his hardness resting against your leg.
he hadn't realized how pretty you were until he felt how hard he was against you. he broke the kiss, not realizing what he had done until it was too late. "shit y/n, i'm so sorry!"
adam tried to get off of you but you put your hands around his shoulders and he sucked in a breath, realizing what was happening. "are you sure, y/n? i don't want to seem like an ass."
you nodded and joked. "on my life."
he rolled his eyes playfully, catching your joke and leaned back down to catch your lips again. his head reached up to palm your tit and your gasped, letting him have access inside of your mouth which he caressed with his tongue.
"you have cherries earlier?" he questioned against your lips and you let out a light hearted laugh. "mhm."
before you could realize what he was doing next, he took off his shirt and you licked your lips watching his abs flex. he caught you staring and smirked, helping you take off your shirt before you could say anything.
he reached up and unbuttoned his pants after taking off his belt and pushed up your short skirt. placing a kiss on the top of your pussy and then on your lips, he pushed himself inside of you and groaned.
"such a good girl for me y/n." he praised.
so he had noticed your initial response earlier and was using it to tease you. that little shit.
"harder." you replied, nipping his lip and he smirked at you, pounding harder. your eyes rolled back and he spread your legs open farther to hit a bunch of your spots.
his thrusts were relentless and punishing. working you up to come quickly and you cursed at how soon it would be over. he pressed the back of his finger to your clit and you gasped, feeling a rush of dizziness before coming.
"is it okay if i-?"
"-yeah." you grinned at his question and he finished shortly after, you felt his warm cum
inside of you.
he helped you put your clothes back on slowly before putting on his own and you sat up, looking at him. "what now?"
adam turned the volume back on the television that he muted earlier and sat back. "now we wait till voight gives me the all clear and then tomorrow evening, u and i, baby, are going to have dinner here."
#chicago pd#adam ruzek#jay halstead#hank voight#kim burgess#kevin atwater#antonio dawson#alvin olinsky#mouse#cop#chicago#pd#adam ruzek imagine#hank voight imagine#smut#jay halstead imagine#erin lindsay#hailey upton#adam ruzek x reader#jay halstead x reader#hank voight imagines#adam ruzek imagines#hank voight x reader#voight#greg mouse gerwitz#greg gerwitz#kevin atwater x reader#kevin atwater imagine
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“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2
*GIF NOT MINE*
You can find part 1 here.
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)
Prompt: NONE
Word Count: 2,026
A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.
The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene.
Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone glowed and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off.
God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.
Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important.
Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.
"Hello?"
“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”
Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.
“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”
Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.
“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”
“Fuck”.
You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.
“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.
Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair.
You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.
Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.
“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.
You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.
“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.
Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”
“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”
Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.
“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.
“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.
You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.
You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.
“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.
“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”.
“Wait, what?”
Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.
“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”
You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.
“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.
You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.
A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.
He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero".
The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group.
Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes.
"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"
He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving.
"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you".
Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds.
"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's".
Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart.
You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice.
"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Yeah, sure."
Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her cautious blue eyes looking back at you.
"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months".
You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends.
"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive".
You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak.
"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"
Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.
"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."
She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said.
After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.
Tagged some beautiful people ✨:
@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover
#madness love#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead x you#jay halstead#fanfic#chicago pd imagine#Adam Ruzek#hailey upton#kim burgess#hank voight#trudy platt#molly's bar
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The Grand Dream of Things
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Grace Burgess/Tommy Shelby
Rating: M (rating may change)
Chapters: 3/6
Summary:
Five times Grace fantasizes about Tommy, and one time she doesn’t have to.
Read: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three
It wasn’t hard to find the Black Swan; she wishes it had been hard.
Grace inquired as to its general location—a half-drunk man at the bar made a ready source—and asked no other questions. She didn’t want anyone to remember hearing the name from her mouth, prefers to keep their knowledge of her to the Garrison’s pretty Irish barmaid. Being very visible in one place is the best she can do in lieu of being invisible altogether. Speak to her of rum (she’s learning), of Dublin (she’s lying), but of no subject that might connect too obviously with the present or future business of the Brothers Shelby.
As she wishes she’d never located the pub, so she now wishes someone had known where she was going. Not a witness. Not a person to report back to Tommy or another Blinder that Grace the pretty barmaid carries a revolver in her purse. That Grace stalks IRA rascals. That Grace has the nerve to shoot a man in the middle of the day, even if she does go completely to pieces about it afterwards.
She’s nearly sick again when she spies the wet, red shine of her open palm. Something red, Tommy said, at the Garrison, when things were relatively normal. Something red to match his tie. She remembers the red splat across the gut of the man she killed. The blood quickly soaking his white shirt, the wound too round, too low to look like a tie.
If only she’d gone on business for Tommy, instead of being propelled by her own curiosity, concealed to herself by the idea of dispatch on Inspector Campbell’s orders. If Tommy had plainly stated, You’re working for me now, Grace. Go see about those boys who are so fond of their songs. See if I’ve anything to be concerned about, and then seen her off from the Garrison. Grace has never yet seen the man creep, but if he’d followed her… how very different things might now be.
“Shit,” she gasps, staring at her crimson, quivering fingers. “Shit. Shit.”
She takes up a jug of water in her clean hand and douses her bloody one. Some of the water splashes out of the basin—the bottom coated in her sour bile—and onto the floor. It’s beyond her to notice.
Had Tommy trailed her to the Black Swan, he could have stopped all this. Out of some sense of trepidation, or even care, he might have caught her arm before she turned down the lane of houses, before she saw the Irishman teeter to a stop to piss, before she heard the dog bark. Tommy would have said, No. I’ve changed me mind. And that would have been that. Back to Small Heath.
Of course, shadowing Grace, he’d have heard her light exchange of comments with strangers in passing, how she tracked the frequency of the accents of her home country as a guide to their favoured drinking hole. Tommy would have heard and understood that she wasn’t afraid like he’d have thought she would be. He would have known, then, that this sort of work is not foreign to her. The sneaking and the infiltrating, the adapting until those around her hardly recall a time when it seemed she didn’t belong.
Ridiculous that she can picture that alternative and decide that, really, what happened was the better outcome. Even if a man is dead, even if the blood sticks to every crease in her palm, at least Thomas is ignorant of her true purpose in Birmingham, of all the skills she may possess and employ and still survive.
Finally, her hand is mostly clean and her head clears enough that she thinks to look for her hard pat of soap. The scanty lather is only just sufficient to do away with the last of the blood.
There will be consequences, though Grace has little experience of these matters by which to measure them. To guess, even. There’ll be Campbell to tell, if he isn’t already puzzling it out himself, and how will he protect her this time? Other members of the IRA may seek retribution, and on whom will their suspicions fall? The trouble will surely be visited upon the doorstep of Tommy Shelby, and he is the most unpredictable figure of all. Hardly a player, more of a force. Things could go off in any direction from there.
The jug wobbles on its stand as she sets it down distractedly, turning and lurching haphazardly around her flat in search of stains. What might she have touched with her red hand before noticing the gore? There’s a smudge on the wall that the side of her hand must have formed; it looks like a narrow strip of raw meat. Another trace on the lamp where she grabbed at it, intending to illuminate the room before the thought blew away, a dead leaf. Grace wets a cloth and cleans to the driving stomp of her heartbeat.
When she slips out into the hallway to check the doorknob as surreptitiously as she can (though her neighbours aren’t particularly nosy—she suspects word of her employment at a Peaky Blinders stronghold took care of that), she finds it unsullied. That should calm her. It doesn’t. Every bit of care, all her mounting wariness… it only makes obvious to Grace how rashly she behaved in the moments and minutes following the grisly incident. Standing there, utterly stunned. Staggering away without a bit of stealth.
Could there have been others in the lane? Crouching? Hearing the gunshot? Even a child could be a danger to her, were they the son or daughter of an IRA man. Grace pursued her target so single-mindedly, and to what detriment? What other signs did she miss? She never so much as scanned the surrounding windows for curious faces. Barely a stone’s throw from the Swan! Is she absolutely mad? A proper Lady Macbeth she is, Grace thinks despondently, slipping back through her door and latching it tight. Blood on her hands, a murder unresolved.
It’s a real possibility that people saw her face. They’ll be after her now, and if Tommy ever hears what she did, he certainly won’t be spreading his arms and oiling his guns to offer her protection.
A cigarette to soothe her, and it hardly does. Grace feels as though the world is closing in on all sides, thick smoke in her mouth, constant pattering rain behind her lace curtain. Abruptly, she needs to be rid of more than the blood. She grinds out her cigarette. Away with her jacket, her skirt, her blouse. They make a soft pile on the floor that she nudges away with her bare foot. Eyes fixed on the new red dress hanging up across the room, she worms franticly into bed, blanket snagged around her ankle, folded uncomfortably under her back, letting in the cold and the damp where it gapes behind her shoulder.
It might take forever to shiver herself warm. She imagines that man’s body, left in the alley, growing cold. She squeezes her eyes shut to escape and carries not the red pool of the corpse but the red spill of her dress behind her eyelids. The dress isn’t for Tommy, that’s what he told her. But Grace doesn’t know who it is for, and she wonders if he was telling the truth when he said that. For all he is, he isn’t impervious to her; she’s seen his smiles and moments of something other than calculation in his pale eyes. He’s given her his money, his time, and his sorrows. Now, he gives her company as she traverses the hell of her present circumstances. She opens her eyes to stare at the dress with both of their gazes and feels him here with her.
Is that what my money’s bought? Tommy says inside her head.
Yes, she says. She imagines straightening her spine challengingly even as she curls in on herself in reality. Her hands wriggle down to cup her chilled ankles, icy toes. Don’t you like it?
It’ll do the job.
Come on now, Thomas, she may press teasingly. My everyday clothes ‘do the job.’ This is meant to be special.
And even in her mind, where she has the control, she can’t seem to compel him to respond. That is his grand trick, isn’t it? Make the person he’s speaking to take one step too far and then leave them like that, awkwardly balanced between the comment they’ve ventured and the reply he’s denying them. Such forcefulness in his silence. Always the unblinking stare.
Grace shivers and feels warmer; it isn’t the kind of shiver she was expecting, but then, thinking too much about Tommy does tend to do that to her. She moves her hands up to cradle her shins.
Eyes open or shut, she pictures him contemplating her red dress on its hanger.
He lifts a casual hand—fingers embracing a cigarette, needless to say—and proposes a course of action, Perhaps if I saw it on.
You’ll see it at Cheltenham, won’t you?
On race day, my attention will be divided, Tommy says, answer on his tongue. I would like to see the result of my investment now, if you please.
And if you don’t like it? Grace can almost hear herself asking this figment. The dress is already paid for.
I can make it un-paid for. Force the shop to take it back, money returned, free to start over.
She smiles in exasperation and knows she would tell him, There isn’t time.
Too right. With a practiced flick, Tommy extracts his pocket watch and peers at it. I’m a busy man, Grace.
Forget the dress; the smirk he wears is the gift. Her fingers, within the walls of her dim flat, trail up to her knees. She’s moving unthinkingly, holding on to the image of him glancing from his watch to her face, when rain lashes harder at her windowpane, snatching the impatient Thomas Shelby from her thoughts.
Grace groans and makes the mistake of looking over at the window. The basin sits below it. Retching, soap, blood. Everything comes back, exactly as before. The races are far away, suddenly, never mind that her dress is right there. Going someplace on Tommy’s arm feels like the fantasy. Unreachable. She is a ghastly fairy tale—the pretty barmaid who transforms into a skulking murderer—not fit for public spaces.
He could almost love her for that, she supposes. Two brutal creatures. His violence paving her path, his gunshot the wolfish howl calling for her to follow.
Her thoughts, lately lovely and coy, are replaced by a scene she hopes to never again visit: the lane around the corner from the Black Swan. It makes Grace’s body tense, fingernails biting into her thighs, but the pinch reminds her of her control. She shuts her eyes. She can’t improve the situation outside of herself, but she can reinterpret events on the inside.
It’s the back of Tommy’s dark coat she follows from the pub, the sweep of it signalling for her to turn the corner after him. As in life, he doesn’t look back, but it doesn’t matter. He knows she’s there. He allows them both to pretend otherwise until he steps from the lane into an alley and pulls her in as well once she’s caught up.
This, in Grace’s imagination, is nothing like what happened with the IRA man. There’s no violence. Her hands are tugging down her knickers as she envisions Tommy crowding her against the alley wall without touch, his hot breath on her neck.
Wandered into IRA territory, eh? I’m startin’ to think you don’t know what’s good for ya.
His lips touch her skin and, here in her lonely bed, it’s not real, but Grace moans. She tucks a hand between her thighs and finds that one area of her body is still capable of producing heat.
Do you underestimate me on purpose? she asks. Just to see what it’ll make me do?
She grips a thick handful of her blanket. What his condescending tone makes her do is run a hand up his leg and clutch his cock through the fabric of his trousers. In this fantasy, Grace is surprised that Tommy reveals himself to be affected. Something in his eyes goes hazy. His fair complexion is ruddy in seconds.
Grace.
He always says her name. In these waking dreams of hers, he always says her name.
I’m not what you think, she warns him, rough with her fingers and palm.
Tommy flattens his hands to the outside of her thighs and drags her skirt up.
Well then, he says. Let’s find out what you are.
The fingers that push into her aren’t his, but they could be.
How quickly he discovers everything she enjoys.
#story update#my writing#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfiction#tommy shelby#Grace Burgess#Tommy x Grace#tommy shelby fanfic
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Tommy Shelby x Reader modern!au - singer!reader
Perfume and tears, pt II
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tommy walked into The Garrison, and pulled off his dark gray coat. He heard a call of his name and saw John calling him over. Preparing himself for the endless teasing to come, he strolled over to the bar, ordering himself a bottle of whisky, and a bowl of peanuts.
"Oy, Tommy, where have you been hmm ? Went looking all over for ya" Arthur said, clapping him good naturedly, on the back. Pouring some whiskey into his glass, he said in offhand voice, "work calls Arthur. Had ta run over to the office for a while. Emergency came up" Pretending not to see the smirks the men were giving each other he downed the glass in one gulp and poured out another glass to drink.
"Work with the pop star, eh Thomas ?" Alfie grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Taking another small sip, he nodded once before rolling his eyes at the hooting and hollering. "Been spending a lot of time with her, haven't ya ? What was it this time?" Michael asked, casually sipping his beer. "Just work Michael. And I'm not going to discuss my business with Ms. L/N with you lot. That's private, confidential business" "All right, all right" said John, throwing his arms in the air. " gettin' a little touchy are we ?" Muttering to himself, Tommy downed his second glass of whisky, only to hear his phone ring.
Looking down at the called ID he was surprised to see Y/N's name flash across the screen. Somewhat hesitantly, he answered the call, careful to not show his mates the number. "Hello ?" He said clearing his voice slightly. "Hi, Thomas. Tree Paine just informed me that I have to perform a charity show to raise money for Cancer Awareness. I was wondering if you would accompany me to rehearsals tomorrow. The paps seem to have camped out outside my building" she answered, slight frustration creeping into her voice.
"Yeah I'll be there. And as for the paps, let them see a glimpse of ya. Youre not doing yourself any favors by hidin' away from the entire world. Let them see you're *doing better then you ever were*" when his words were met with silence, for a moment he was afraid he had overstepped his boundaries. "Okay then. I'll go out tomorrow. No umbrellas. No tons of bodyguards. No hoodies and sunglasses. But on one condition... you come with me" she replied, blushing madly on her side of the phone.
Although he had been surprised when she had agreed, he had smirked at the last part. So after agreeing and settling on a time he put the phone down, still smiling softly to himself. Whilst he had been on the phone, his aunt Polly had walked in, and noted the somewhat lovestruck expression on her nephew's face. It had come as a shock to her, but she had also seen it coming. Tommy didn't love easily. He found it hard to love someone and didn't know how to react. He had been in love once, though, a woman named Grace Burgess. But she had broken his heart and left him a man afraid to love. Polly never liked the woman, seeing through her at once. Walking towards him, she picked up his bottle of whisky and took a small sip.
" who were you talking to Thomas ?" She asked casually, full well knowing who it was. "Y/N L/N" he replied, not looking her in the eye, knowing he would find humor in them. "Ah. The singer. She's got a voice of an angel that one" she commented, reaching over for a glass. Tommy hummed nonchalantly, and nodded. " that she does" Polly stood up, a full glass of whisky in her hand, and beckoned her nephew to follow her.
Weaving through the crowd, they went into the private parlor, usually reserved for Polly Gray and Thomas Shelby. Setting her glass down and lighting a cigarette, she turned to him and said in a would be casual voice, " have you told her the real reason you wanted to be employed as a bodyguard" causing him to let out a mock laugh and light up another cigarette for himself. " And risk her life ? No of course I bloody well haven't. And not a single word should reach her. If such a time comes that she is in a vulnerable position, I'll tell her myself. Till then, Not. A.Word"
" she will be in a vulnerable position if you don't get that look out of your eyes Tommy" Polly replied, taking a sip of her whisky, while keeping an eye on him. "What look Aunt Pol ?" He asked turning to her with a vacant expression. " the one you had when you fell in love with Grace, Thomas" Caught slightly off guard, he raised an eyebrow, taking a deep puff of his cigarette. " If you're suggesting that we're anything more than employer and employee, I'd have ta correct ya. Anyways, you can just ask her yourself. She's got a show not 10 minutes away from here tomorrow. Cancer Awareness show. Come and watch her, make up your mind about her and then you can decide if ya want to tell her about business. Now if you'll excuse me Aunt Pol, I've to go over security details for the show tomorrow" and downing the rest of his whiskey, he stubbed his cigarette out and straightened his coat jacket.
He may not have been completely honest with you. He was still Tommy Shelby, Peaky Blinder. He was Y/N's bodyguard too, but only because her name had been thrown in by a rival gang, wanting to undermine the star and ruin her reputation forever. Ada had put her foot down, demanding that Tommy go and protect the harmless, innocent woman who had been thrown into their mess, when she didn't even know them. And some part of him, the part that was still humane, agreed.
And that's what had got him into this mess. One that couldn't be solved with guns and punches and razored caps. A mess his heart had gotten him into. Well, he would be damned if he let anything hurt you. Probably the only sweet and innocent thing in his life. And so, walking out of the Garrison, he walked towards the stadium instead, where the headlines in a week would be Y/N L/N'S ONE NIGHT ONLY.
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy
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Shelbys at Somme Chapter 16
Thomas X Reader
Word Count: 1715
Summary: Some realizations are had and Inspector Campbell is a creep.
by @adventuresintooblivion
Thomas couldn’t bloody take it anymore. With Grace being escorted home, and Y/N getting ready for bed, he felt like his skin was on fire. A part of him, a much larger part than he’d like to admit, was selfish. He wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in her hair. Feel the touch of flesh against his own. He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the ghosts of Somme, by losing himself in the tangle of limbs and sheets. The problem was he couldn’t figure out which ‘her’ was actually driving him up the wall.
Grace had crawled up under his skin during her days at the Garrison. He wasn’t sure why it had happened, something between her brash curiosity or open eyed innocence. Or maybe it was the sheer fact that she just wasn’t afraid of him. That fear he’d spent years cultivating on the streets meant nothing to this beautiful, foreign girl who asked him all the right questions.
He attempted to still his shaking hands as he threw cold water into his face. His fingertips pressed into his eyes, willing the tiredness away. A soft hum drifted through the threadbare door. Y/N. Thomas’ ears heated, not even the freezing water was able to stop it.
One of her songs, it intertwined with his soul, working out the sharp bits. His muscles began to slowly follow suit. The bathroom walls melted around him. His feet no longer stood on tile but the mud of a far off battlefield. He was hungry and cold and in that moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
“You’ve got that far off look again, Tommy.” Suddenly he was once again staring at his reflection. Y/N’s hand is on the bare skin of his shoulder. He leaned into it; he couldn’t help it. It felt like an eternity before she stepped closer.
Thomas’ voice was thick as he spoke, “I...didn’t get to ask. Grace was so pale, and you?”
“I know how to stay warm.” Y/N’s arms closed around herself. “It also helps that I’m not skin and bones. You, um...seemed pretty shaken up by the whole thing.”
Thomas didn’t register the words at first, “Of course I was.” He turned to face Y/N for the first time since he’d stepped into the room. But now he faced the unspoken question they both craved the answer to. Which one of us?
That selfish part of him, the greedy part, wanted them both. But even he knew that, in the end, even he couldn’t stand the idea of sharing. So how on earth could he ask them to do the same?
“I am far from a good man, Y/N. Hell, the Devil probably has a special place already set up for me. But when I ask ‘Are you alright?’ it’s… not a question I ask often. And it’s not a question I ask a lot of people. Don’t ever question that, deep down under all this mess that the war left behind, I care about you.”
He wasn’t sure when he’d done it, but his hand had found her cheek. His calloused skin brushed over too soft skin. Thomas marveled at the feeling of it but it wasn’t until she turned into his touch, kissing his palm, that he felt something in him shatter. He silently wished he’d read more growing up, then maybe he’d have the words for what the fuck was happening to him.
She kissed his palm again, then whispered, “You called Grace ‘love’ today.” Her voice thin and broken against his skin.
Thomas’ tongue turned to lead as he watched the glisten of tears in her eyes. She was right. He had. And he probably would’ve done it again if he could start the day over. The air weighed down with sorrow as the realization settled into Y/N’s heart.
“So that’s that I guess.” she pulled away quickly, scrubbing the tears away before they could fall. She disappeared back into her room, leaving Thomas alone in the bathroom.
“I...guess it is.”
〜
Grace had hurried home after as soon as she could get her legs beneath her. Her skin itched under the sense that the world was watching her. Every window, every wall, even the stones themselves grew eyes just to stare her down as she passed.
She silently cursed as stumbled over cobblestones, her heel almost catching in a crack. She’d killed a man only minutes before Y/N had returned to the Garrison. That IRA officer. She had pulled the trigger, the ringing still in her ears as she stared at the muddy footprints Y/N dragged in with her.
It was over all too quickly. She remembered the anger. It had boiled in the very marrow of her bones until it had become this unrelenting energy that carried her feet outside. She didn’t remember pulling the trigger, but she’d felt the recoil. And just like that, a life that had taken decades to cultivate, gone. Just gone.
The recoil had startled her at the time and almost made her drop the weapon. But she needed a place to hide it. If Thomas ever found out about what she’d done, he’d kill her. Her fingers clenched on the strap of her purse. She began mentally running through all the times she’d been separated from her bag. Harry definitely hadn’t found it. He would’ve harassed Grace for being a pretty girl that’d hurt herself. Scared of her own shadow and all that nonsense. Y/N had been trapped in the room with her so there was no opportunity for her to rifle through her things. Then Grace went cold.
Y/N had been alone with her things for who knows how long, before Thomas had woken her. Of their own accord, her fingers pried open the latch to search for any sign it’d been tampered with. Unfortunately, she was too hasty and the mere act of opening it had almost spilled the contents on the street.
“Fuck!” She growled.
She was so absorbed in her search that she hadn’t quite realized she’d made it home. Grace hesitated for a moment. If Y/N had found the gun she had most definitely told Thomas. He couldn’t have made it here first. Hell, he would’ve had to send runners to get anyone ahead of her. But what if he was waiting inside?
Grace shakily put her key in that lock. All she could think about were the stories she’d heard. Of the cold dead eyes staring her down her first night working at the Garrison. Those eyes had softened over time and his touch had become a casual thing between his scheming. But all that would disappear in a moment if he even suspected she’d endangered his gang. And if he found out she worked for Campbell?
Her fingers went numb. It took several attempts for her to open the lock before finally, she shuffled inside. The door gave a loud groan that announced her arrival. If anyone was upstairs, they’d have heard her enter. She paused a moment to gather her courage, then stormed up the steps.
Despite the late afternoon sun, her drawn curtains shrouded the place in darkness. It all felt too still, a hushed air settling over the furniture as she let her eyes scan every dark silhouette. There. On the couch sat the figure of a man. Grace’s hand plunged into her purse, fingers closing around the metal handle. Her other hand desperately fumbled for the light.
Blinded momentarily, it took a little too long for her to realize that Inspector Campbell was the one sitting before her. She let out a long huff of air. Suddenly, she grit her teeth. She’d never given him a key.
“Why, hello there. Didn’t expect you to be quite so jumpy in the middle of the day Ms. Burgess. Is everything alright?” Inspector Campbell asked. He stood and gazed about the place, in that imperialistic way that made it seem like he owned it.
Grace schooled her features a moment, “It’s not everyday a woman comes home to find a shadowy figure waiting for her. I believe I’m allowed to be startled, in this case.”
He gave her a solemn nod, “I don’t typically make a habit of such things but I was...concerned. You’re awfully close to this whole situation, and Mr. Churchill is getting impatient. I’m not sure if... I’ll be around much longer to offer you protection.”
“You’d leave me here?” She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she pressed her back against the door frame.
“Oh no, never.” His brow furrowed and he closed the distance between them. He went to wrap his arms around her but stopped himself. Still, he leaned in far too close for Grace’s liking. A metallic tang hung on his breath as it washed over her.
“I would never leave you here to fend for yourself, amongst these… these dogs!” He tipped forward. To Grace, it seemed like he was having trouble with his balance.
She took a breath to steady herself, “I appreciate it. I’m close, I promise.” All she could taste was the staleness of used air as she remained trapped between Inspector Campbell and the wall.
He blinked slowly, then finally took a step back, “Yes. Well, meet me in a few days' time. A museum should do. You like museums, right?”
Grace didn’t get a chance to answer before he began gathering his things, “What time?”
“Wednesday. After your shift.” He quickly strode to the door, mumbling a quick goodbye before Grace was left blessedly alone.
She swayed numbly over to the couch. Her weight made the derelict thing groan. After a few long moments a whimper escaped her. Then her hand shot out, hitting the poor excuse of a pillow beside her. Then again. And again. Her clenched fists rained down, frustrated cries accentuating each strike. It wasn’t until drops of water darkened the fabric that she realized she was crying. Or until her voice echoed off the walls that she realized she was shouting. And in the moment, her soul raged against the knowledge that she was truly and utterly fucked.
#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders imagine#reader insert#tommy shelby imagine
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Family Ties Chapter 6
Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.
Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.
Word count: 2426
Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible
A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes
Family Ties Chapter 6
It had been over a year and Brie felt solid on her life and her path. She worked because she wanted to and felt her work in Intelligence was helping out the unit who had helped her back to her feet. She had started to take over more and more of the technology work from Adam and Kevin since she had a knack for it. She could figure out tech searches, etc. that they needed and found her skills meant she was faster than Ruzek or Atwater, so Hank had her trained more and more by CPD for technology support for Intelligence.
She was sitting at her desk in the bullpen when Trudy came up. She was carrying a floral display. It included her one-time favorite blue roses, but she didn’t have any guys in her life, so she figured it was for Kim, Hailey or Vanessa. They had quickly become her friends and had helped her build her confidence. She had cut & colored her hair, was wearing different clothes that made her confidence show, and her make-up had changed as well to enhance her features showing the outside changes to match the stronger person now underneath the surface thanks to the support of those around her.
It shocked Brie when Trudy placed the flower display on her desk pulling her again from the work in front of her. “Here. A delivery for you, Cinderella.” She said. Jay turned to see the flowers on Brie’s desk.
Brie stood looking confused and spoke, “Are you sure, Sergeant? Who would send flowers to me? It’s not my birthday so it’s not my parents.” The girls all smiled as Brie took the card from the display and Platt moved back downstairs. Her face paled as she read the card to herself. She reached behind her for her chair in order to sit. Brielle took a moment to gather her thoughts and she shocked the unit by dropping the flowers vase and all in the trash can next to her desk calling out. “Hell, no. How did he find me?” she said her voice angered and wavering as the sound of the vase breaking echoed her comments.
Jay and Hank quickly walked to her and she handed them the card. It was from Michael. Hank read it out loud, ‘You have had your year of fun, love. I will collect you soon from you little experiment at a life without me. And you will be back where you belong at my home and under my orders. See you soon, Brielle. Michael, your husband.’ Brie had walked from her desk and entered the break room leaving the Unit stunned.
Jay followed her once he read the card. “Are you okay, Brie?” he asked placing his hands on her shoulders.
She sighed as she placed one of her hands over his on her right shoulder. “I think so, Jay. I hate feeling scared again. It is like he keeps creeping in taking control of me again and I hate it. How can I stop him?” she said taking a breath and sounding determined.
“You know we all have your back, right?” he said to her as she turned to face him.
“I do, Jay. And I trust you all.” She said smiling up at him.
It took the unit less than 2 hours to track the flowers and how Michael purchased them. It caused Brie to get angrier and angrier thinking about the message. She finally threw down her pen and grabbed her coat running down the stairs to the front door. Hank spoke up, “Halstead, go calm her down. She needs to keep her head on straight while we look for him.”
Jay nodded and moved to follow her grabbing his own coat. He opened the gate to Intelligence only to hear Platt fussing at him. “What’s the deal, Chuckles? What crawled up her butt?”
“The flowers were from her ex.” He replied as he headed to the door as Trudy’s face darkened knowing the full story about Michael and Brielle.
“Check her car first. She is smarter than just heading off.” Platt shouted as he moved through the main doors of the district.
Jay didn’t have to go that far seeing her pace near a bench by the front door. “Talk to me, Brie.” He said moving closer slowly.
“I’m angry, Jay. The thought that he believed I would just give in, fall right back into a situation where he beat me and hit me, and I would just let it go and forgive him is ridiculous. It is as if he never saw me as a person at all. I hate that idea of that for anyone. I haven’t done everything I have this past year to fall back into that death trap. He will NEVER put his hands on me again.” She said venting to him as she motioned displaying her anger with her hands.
“Okay. That is a natural reaction. And you have done a lot of changing in the past year. Your confidence is a big piece that I have noticed. Atwater and Ruzek tell me that you have been swatting the guys away at Molly’s lately.” He said getting a small laugh from her. She took a breath and sat next to him on the bench. “Look until we know more, you have to be more careful. Running out of the building like this alone is not safe. Michael’s crew is still around you know that. They work for his uncle. They were absorbed back in. Michael coming out probably means they will be back with him. Until we get him off your back, stick close to us and don’t leave the building alone. You have learned from all of us this year. Use those skills we taught you, okay?” he said. She nodded and took in a deep breath sighing out loud. “Ready to head back in?” He asked. She nodded and stood as he smiled and led them back into the unit.
Two weeks later, Brie had to take a personal day to complete some personal tasks that had been left undone due to her focus on work in Intelligence. She smiled as Ruzek and Atwater texted her about how they missed her tech skills on a new case they had started today. She also smiled when Jay called to check on her during her lunch. She had a huge amount of respect for Jay but was cautious about letting any feelings grow for him. She had heard from Kim how he had been hurt several times by different people in his life. Brie knew she thought of Jay differently than the others, but she would never cross the line unless she knew how he felt. She valued their friendship too much to risk alienating him.
Brie left from her quiet lunch at the small café and started to feel disconcerted. She felt like she was being watched and it worried her. Her senses started to react to her intuition. She quickly spotted the car following her. She could tell that there were at least 2 men in the car. Her first thought was Michael sent them. She wasn’t close enough to go to the Precinct but noticed she was not far from Firehouse 51. Christopher Hermann and Kelly Severide were guys that she learned to trust from Molly’s, and she knew they would help her. She pulled into the parking lot and quickly walked to the door of the building closest to the lot. She entered and watched as the car parked across the street from the lot and waited. She started to get concerned and went to find Hermann or Severide. She ran into Captain Casey first literally almost knocking herself down. She blushed as he caught her to prevent her fall. “Oh, god. Captain Casey, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She said trying to control her emotions.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. But you look upset, Brielle, right? You work in Intelligence, with Detective Halstead, right?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I’m an administrative assistant as well as a tech assistant for the unit.” She said.
“What’s got you upset?” he asked her.
“I think I am being followed, Captain. I came here to get help.” She said. She pointed to the car. “I took a personal day to handle errands, etc. and that car has been following me since I left the café where I had lunch. It follows me everywhere.” She said.
He nodded and she noticed a stern look come over his face. “Come on. Let’s go call your Unit. They will not put up with this.” He said leading her to the Bullpen.
He led her to a desk near Chief Boden’s office and he let her sit while he let Chief Boden know what was going on. Boden stepped out and told Casey he would stay with Brie while Casey told the others at the house what was going on. Brie sat and pulled her cell from her pocket. She pulled Voight’s number from her cell and dialed it into the phone in front of her. She listened as the phone rang. He then spoke clearly. “Voight.”
She spoke clearly and quickly. “Uncle Hank? It’s Brie. I’m at Firehouse 51. I was out running errands after lunch and I saw a car following me. I can’t seem to lose it and it is sitting across the street from the parking lot at the station. I didn’t feel like I had enough time to come to the precinct. It is a navy four door sedan with tinted windows. I can tell there are two guys in the front seat, but I can’t see the back seat. I was concerned as I felt like I was being watched since I left my lunch stop.”
Hank spoke after listening to her. “You did good, Brie. Stay there at 51. We will come and get you, make sure you are safe. 51 will keep you safe until we get there. We’ll look into this.” He said hanging up the phone. He exited his office and called out across the unit. “Halstead, Upton, and Burgess. Go to Firehouse 51. Brie is there. Thinks she is being followed. Navy 4 door sedan parked across from the station’s parking lot. She is inside the house with Chief Boden and the 2nd shift.”
Jay stopped near the station and let Hailey and Kim handle the car while he continued on to see to Brie. He quickly parked his truck and recognized her car sitting in the lot next to Captain Casey’s truck. He walked quickly onto the apparatus floor finding the Squad table empty he entered the doors near the common room. Severide greeted him. “Jay.” Kelly said shaking his hand. “Your unit’s assistant is in the Bullpen with Boden and Casey.” He said leading the way.
Kelly heard Jay release a breath and spoke again. “Everything okay? You all seem protective over her.”
“Her abusive ex got out of jail last week. He started to harass her two weeks before that. He has ties to organized crime and can’t seem to take no or being ignored as an answer. He was controlling and told her in a note with flowers that he was going to get her back.” Jay said his face setting in anger. “She’s a good person, Severide. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s done a lot to help herself in the last 18 months. Voight has known her since she was a kid and used to work with her father who is retired CPD.”
“Enough said.” Kelly answered turning the corner to enter the Bullpen.
Jay let out another deep breath when he saw her sitting at a desk with Chief Boden standing nearby. He walked over to the Chief and shook his hand. “Chief Boden.” Jay said.
“Detective Halstead. Ms. Jacobs came here due to the vehicle she says appears to be following her this afternoon.” Chief Boden said.
“Understood, Chief. Detective Upton and Officer Burgess are across the street right now and handling the vehicle.” Jay said. He looked down and saw Brie watching him from a nearby desk. “How are you feeling, Brie?”
She replied quickly as he moved closer to her, “Better. I felt safer once I got inside here. I promised I would keep the Unit alerted to anything unusual.” She said.
“Good job. You used the skills you have learned to protect yourself. We’ll find out soon if Michael is involved.” He said placing a hand on her shoulder.
His radio began to sound causing him to move his hand to turn up the sound. It was Hailey’s voice calling in the license plate and alerting that she was approaching the vehicle with Kim. It took a few minutes before Hailey came back on the radio and said the vehicle was departing with a warning to stop tailing a CPD employee. Jay released another breath. He felt Brie slide her shaking hand into his and take a deep breath herself. Hailey and Kim quickly joined Jay, Brie and the others.
Hailey entered leading Kim, smiled at Jay and Brie before she spoke. “Driver and friend were paid $500 bucks to tail her for the afternoon. Approached through a registered PI and paid by the PI. Got his information so we can pay him a visit later.” She said.
“So, no solid connection to DiLeone yet?” Jay asked.
“Not yet.” Hailey said.
Jay turned to Brie who had pulled her hand back when Hailey arrived. “What do you want to do, Brie? Do you want us to help you get back to the Precinct or what?”
“I should probably head in. Sergeant Voight will want my statement as well needing to help Ruzek and Atwater with the technology searches.” She said standing and running her hands over her slacks. “How do we get my car from here if I ride back with you? I am not sure I could drive right now.” she asked.
“I’ll drive it to the district for you, Brie.” Kim offered.
Brie nodded accepting Kim’s offer. “Thank you for your help, Chief Boden. I’m sorry if I disrupted your house.” She said to him shaking his hand.
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