#like of the character smoking a cigarette and blowing out hen smoke | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kindiekritz · 3 years

Text

Get Some Rest, Samurai...

Via Anon Ask; “because im also a sap for Johnny and V- How do you think Johnny would help V cope with a panic attack? Especially when its likely something he's feeling laggy echoes of himself if he's in her head during it? (hurt/comfort is a FAVE of mine and i have anxiety, can ya' tell?)”

B ro,, don’t worry anon bc same here, we are anxiety homies together 👏😔 - This is my first time writing for Johnny Silverhand! Trying to get back on the writing boat, (haven't forgotten my previous fic!) and there's nothing like simping for video game characters to get that inspiration flowing. Do let me know what you think! Johnny may be a bit too OOC in this, I may have gone a little bit overboard with the soft? Ah well, I hope someone will enjoy it regardless :P

Here is the Ao3 Link! :D

V’s time was running out.

Every time the relic in their head would malfunction, every time they went into a coughing fit and the disgusting taste of metallic blood would fill their mouth, every time he would manifest himself in her head and V would catch a glimpse of his stupid fucking face…

V was reminded of the fact that their time was running out, and fast.

And despite the fact that they were doing everything in their power to stop the construct in her mind from completely destroying her from the inside out, that didn’t stop the fact that she still had to pay the rent.

In fact, it wasn’t cheap coughing up the eddies to pay Rouge for her services, or having to pay for bigger and better gear that would keep her alive when dealing with Arasaka guards, hell, it wasn’t cheap to keep purchasing more and more bottles of Omega Blockers, the pills were the only thing that kept him from completely taking control.

She found herself taking more and more gigs, trying to simply keep up with the extra costs of having a completely second personality living rent-free in her mind. But even then… she couldn’t find it in herself to reject or turn away people who needed her help, even if they had little to nothing to offer in return.

It seemed as if her phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts of people who wanted and needed her help. No matter where she went or what she did, people needed her services, people needed her time.

And yet, time was something that she had very little left of.

V was exhausted. The bags under her eyes revealed that she hadn’t slept in days, and she couldn’t remember when she last had a proper meal.

She was always on the go, she didn’t have time to take care of herself.

But as she groggily opened the door to her apartment, she thought to herself that… maybe, just maybe… she would finally let herself take a nice, long warm shower.

V was too exhausted to care about the possibility of Johnny potentially staring at her nude form as she stood under the running water. Hell, let him stare for all she cared! The thought of warm water running over her exhausted muscles, washing away the dirt and grime of the city… it was too appealing at that moment.

She removed her weapon slung across her back, letting her beloved leather Samurai jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the ground, too exhausted to care about putting it away properly.

The weight of the gun in her hands was normally a welcome and grounding presence for V when she was on a mission, the weapon in her hands keeping her safe from those who wished to do her harm. But now? It felt too heavy, unbearably so, as if the weight would make her topple over onto the floor below. The muscles in her arms were exhausted and spent. As she rotated her shoulder she heard the joints audibly pop. The consequences of pushing her body too far.

She would do anything for the physical ache to go away.

As she stepped through the door to her armory and switched on the fluorescent lights of the room, her gaze fell upon someone already there, casually lounging atop her workbench and raising a cigarette to his mouth, pausing to speak before inhaling a deep puff of smoke.

“Damn V. You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment, and made her way to her weapon locker instead, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze on the nape of her neck.

V fiddled with the combination, her foggy mind struggling to remember the correct numbers and the correct order, her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she inputs each digit. V cursed herself for making it so damn difficult, but eventually, she finally managed to swing the metal door open, proceeding to put her gun away amongst her collection of stored weapons.

Johnny hopped off of the workbench, stepping towards V as she organized her storage, resting his metal arm against the locker, using his height to his advantage as he towered over her and confronted her. “No, seriously V, you look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”

“Fuck— Johnny, I dunno… A few days I guess?” V slammed the door of the locker using more force than necessary, Johnny already starting to get on her nerves, the last thing she needed was Johnny Fucking Silverhand following her around like a worried mother hen. V pouted and huffed, blowing away a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen across her face, then turning to meet his gaze, hidden behind wine-colored lenses, and asked, “Why do you care anyway?”

“You’ve been on edge all day, I can feel it. You’re like a string that’s been strung too strongly. I feel like you’re ready to snap at any fuckn’ moment, V.”

She could feel his stare on her body and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate her. He was poking at a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it.

V stuttered, trying to find the right words to say as she couldn't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore, instead choosing to halfheartedly push him aside and walk away, “Johnny… I’m fine. Really. I just— I just need a shower and a nap, that’s all.”

As V stepped out of the room, the weight on her chest seemed to grow heavier with each step.

She wanted to crumble, she wanted to cry.

She just wanted to wrap up herself in a bundle of blankets and cry into an order of takeout. One of those ugly cries that made snot dribble from your nose and your cheeks flushed and red.

She wanted— no, V needed to let everything out.

But… she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time for it, she needed to get back to work soon. Here were people that needed her help and there were eddies to be made. She would let herself rest when she’d gotten that damned biochip out of her head.

It was at that moment when V’s phone began to ring, the sound interrupting her thoughts and causing her to pause in her step.

Almost as if on reflex, she quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the device, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “V speaking, what do you want?”

“V, it’s Regina. I’ve got another report of a cyberpsycho attack…”

V stopped listening to the voice on her phone, too distracted by the crushing pressure on her chest and the fact that she had begun to tremble and shake like a leaf.

All she had wanted was a hot shower and a night in, was that too much to ask?

After weeks of dodging blades and bullets, running meaningless errands and tasks for just a few eddies in return, spending sleepless nights that left dark circles under her eyes, and going days on end without even seeing her fucking apartment, all she wanted was a night in.

Was that too much to fucking ask?

She could faintly register Johnny’s voice coming from behind her, an uncharacteristically concerned tone in his voice as he asked, “...V? What’s wrong?”

The pressure in her chest grew heavier by the second, her breaths becoming strained and labored as the increasing fear and dread overwhelmed her body. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, glaring at the device with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“V? Are you listening? I said that there’s another report of a cyberpsycho near your current position, are you still—“

With a press of a button, she hung up the phone.

Johnny watched V, her form trembling and shoulders tensed.

In all of their weeks stuck together, he’d never seen his little merc look so small. A real juxtaposition when compared to her usual self; a real fucking hardass, she was the only other person Johnny had ever met that was just as bullheaded and stubborn as himself.

As much as he teased her about it, Johnny knew one thing for certain. V was strong, V was determined. A damned force of nature and he pitied the bastards that stood in her way.

But despite the cybernetics in her body and the chip in her mind… V was human. V had her limits.

The facade she’d built up for herself couldn’t last forever, and Johnny knew it. He’d sensed the cracks in her resolve grow larger and larger with each sleepless night and after every exhausting gig.

But for a brief second, a thought crossed Johnny’s mind;

V was fractured… V was broken… V was weak.

And with that thought, V finally snapped.

“I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!”

V cried out, lobbing her phone at him. It phased right through him, instead hitting against the wall, shattering the screen, and sending the device flying into some unknown corner of the room.

She froze, her eyes widening in shock, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she had done. The realization slowly setting in after the result of her outburst.

V’s vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, she slowly fell to the cold floor, cradling her knees up to her chest and muffling her sobs in her arms.

Johnny watched as she sat in the middle of the room and sobbed.

She didn’t let herself cry when Jackie had died, she didn’t let herself cry when Vic told her that she was practically dying. V didn’t cry as she carried Evalyn’s bloodied body, and V didn’t cry late at night when she was alone, and her chest felt tight and her throat choked up.

He knew it was coming, he could feel V’s emotions as they bubbled up and reached their boiling point.

But what truly surprised him, was just how much it hurt him to see his little merc cry.

“Shit— V…” he nervously swallowed his throat, but try as he might, for once in his goddamn existence, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Johnny didn’t like the way he felt.

Johnny didn’t like the way she made him feel at that moment.

He didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the sound of each of her sobs. The way he felt so restless as he could only watch her curl onto herself for comfort. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth across the room, unsure if it was her anxiety or his that was setting him off.

Johnny could almost feel V’s heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her veins, adrenaline meant to stimulate a fight or flight reaction. But when the pain and panic swelled from within her own chest, there was nowhere V could run, nobody she could physically fight.

All she could do was sob into her knees, desperately trying to hide her sobs and cries from him, but her own cries easily overpowered her.

And because of him, she didn’t even feel like she had the ability to freely have a goddamn mental breakdown in her own apartment, even as she choked and sobbed, she tried to grasp onto the shattered remains of her facade. Was it for her sake, or for his?

At that point… neither of them knew.

V couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She tightly gripped onto herself until her knuckles turned white. But V didn’t notice. It didn’t even register in her mind.

She didn’t register the hot tears as they streamed down her face, the shuddering cries that caused her lip to quiver with each breath. She couldn’t recognize that no matter how hard she tried, her frantic breaths caused her lungs to feel as if they were on fire, incapable of delivering oxygen to her body.

V’s mind didn’t even register the fact that Johnny had stopped pacing back and forth.

Her mind cursed at her to get her shit together. V needed to wipe away those tears and she needed to get back on the streets. A moment of weakness could’ve gotten her killed in her past, and now was no different.

But… the thought of standing up and leaving her apartment caused another fresh wave of sobs to rattle her body.

She was tired… she was so goddamn exhausted…

“V…”

All she wanted was a night in. Was that too much to ask? After all of her hard work and effort, hadn’t she earned it?

“V, listen to me.”

Clearly, she hadn’t done enough if people were still calling, still demanding her presence. Clearly she—

V felt something warm touch her cheek.

Someone was there.

Although her mind had stopped temporarily spiraling, she felt the wet salty tears dripping down her face, her vision was still blurry, and her cheeks were incredibly flushed. She must’ve looked… pathetic she thought. But regardless, she allowed herself to look up at the person who had reached out to her.

The cold of his metal rings juxtaposed the warmth of his hand, and as her eyes trailed up towards his arms, she caught sight of his familiar tattoos, but also an unfamiliar detail as she reached his face.

Instead of seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses, she was surprised to see his eyes staring into hers. Gone was any trace of malice or cruelty, instead his brown eyes reflected nothing but concern… an emotion she’d never expected to see from him.

Johnny.

As her tearful eyes met his, he could’ve almost sworn that he felt his engram heart stop beating for a second. The tears rolling down her cheeks, the way her lip trembled with each breath. He didn’t know why the sight of V feeling so upset affected him so, he blamed her emotions, her hormones, whatever came into his mind. He hated the way she made him feel, he hated that she had this much power over him.

But most of all, he hated the fact that he felt so powerless to stop it.

He would’ve gladly taken V cussing him out, he would’ve taken V nagging at him and complaining about the smell as he smoked in her apartment. He would’ve even happily taken V as she sang along to the car radio, something she’d originally done to get onto his nerves, but now it has become a sound he’s grown… to tolerate. Even sometimes… appreciate it.

He wasn’t the type to comfort people like this, he was the type to leave as soon as emotions came into play, the countless amount of hearts that he’d broken in the past were evidence enough. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with his own goddamn emotions, blowing up Arasaka tower as revenge to deal with his grief, that’s what got him into this mess.

But as he wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his calloused thumb… he wasn’t going to just sit there and let his little merc cry.

“V. You’ve done more than enough for this city than it deserves. You’re always running back and forth, trying to make this shithole a better place… all while trying to keep yourself alive.” He wanted to tell her that this damned city didn’t deserve her generosity, it didn’t deserve her hard work, fuck, this city didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve her.

And she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her.

“You keep spreading yourself too thin, you keep wanting to do shit for others, you keep wanting to help. But then you add the cherry on top — the fact that there’s a chip in your head slowly killin’ ya… You’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve earned a few nights of rest.”

V sniffled and tried to wipe away tears, her voice wavering as she spoke, “I-If I don’t keep goin’ if I don’t keep looking for a solution— I’m gonna die. Johnny, I don’t want to die—“

“V, you’re gonna end up dead long before the chip has an opportunity to kill you if you keep pushing yourself like this… You need to get some rest.”

He was right. As much as she fucking hated it… he was right.

She felt his metal hand cup her other cheek, the cool metal refreshing against the flushed skin, wiping away tears as he continued to speak.

“You’ve proven yourself enough to this city. You’ve proven yourself enough to me. But running yourself to the bone is not worth it in order to prove it to yourself. And you’re not alone V… as much as they get on my fuckn’ nerves, you’ve got chooms lookin’ out for ya, even if one of them is a fuckn’ cop—“

Through tears, V chuckled and playfully chided him, “Johnny…”

There it was… that little chuckle of hers that he was looking for. He wouldn’t admit it to others, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but V’s laughter never failed to make him feel something funny in his chest… it wasn’t like the high of drugs or liquor, but it felt just as addictive. It wasn’t like the adrenaline rush of a firefight or the rush during a show, but it made him feel just as excited and lightheaded.

He cleared his throat, trying to get his mind off of that feeling, and spoke, “Listen… all I’m saying… is that you’re not alone V. And although I don’t have much of a choice, whenever you need me…” he playfully smiled as his eyes met hers, “I’m always here for ya V.”

And that’s all it took.

In one moment to another, V wrapped her arms around his waist, knocking him on his ass from his previous kneeling position, and burying her head against his chest.

Despite sharing a head and body, somehow, someway, V always found a way to surprise him.

He groaned, the deep rumbles from his chest as he spoke making V settle in closer, anchoring herself to his presence.

“Fuck, V, a little warning next time would be nice.”

But even as he whined… he wasn’t complaining. Not when her sobs were beginning to fade, and she was instead chuckling at his expense in his arms.

He ignored that funny feeling in his chest as his organic arm wraps itself against her body, his calloused hand rubbing circles against the small of her back, feeling her trembling begin to slow under his soft touch. Over time, her breathing began to even, and soon enough she was taking deep breaths as she recovered.

Without even consciously doing so, Johnny’s metal hand found itself entwined with the strands of her hair, softly caressing as V’s eyes began to droop, and exhaustion began to overtake her body.

“V… it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I’m fine Johnny, I’m—“ a yawn interrupted her mid-sentence, “I’m not even tired.”

“And I’m not buying it.” He chuckled as his arm wrapped around her midsection.

“W-wait Johnny what are you— Johnny!” In an instant, V was thrown over his shoulder as he stood from the ground, and she gripped onto him in order to avoid falling to the floor.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.” He chuckled as he felt her hand playfully slap against his shoulder.

“Fucking hell Johnny, a warning would be nice!” He could almost imagine her expression as he walked across the apartment, the way she would pout in exasperation.

“Just repaying the favor, that’s all.” He smirked as he reached her bed. Slowly setting her down from his shoulder onto the mattress below.

“There. It’s time that you allowed yourself to get some rest, and not that weird shit you do where you sleep across the bed huddled in a little ball, but some actual sleep, under the covers and all.”

“Fine, fine…” V slipped into a pair of nightclothes as Johnny had the decency to look away, and then slipped under the blankets, making herself comfortable. But before she drifted off to sleep, she called out, “Johnny?”

“... yeah?”

“I just— I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for tonight and all.”

“‘Course…” he stepped towards the bed once more as he spoke, “I mean, if I’m the one telling you that you need some rest, you probably fucked up somewhere along the way.”

“That’s true… judging from your memories, you’re terrible at following your own advice, Johnny.” She smiled at him, uncertain if the lack of sleep had made her delirious or if perhaps she was feeling particularly honest that night, but she spoke, “Y’know, if fucking up this badly was the catalyst for us to meet… I would do it all over again.”

He smiled sadly in return, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his cold metal hand brushing her cheek as he did so. An action to acknowledge the words between them were best left unspoken and unsaid— at least, for now.

“...Goodnight V.” He tore his gaze from her as he turned to walk away.

“Wait— Johnny!”

She grasped his metallic hand before he had the opportunity to pull away.

“... stay with me? Just for tonight?”

With her eyes looking up at him, her smaller hand clinging onto his, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to race—

How could he say no?

“Fine, but just for tonight. I can’t have you thinkin’ I’m goin’ soft or something.”

Johnny slipped under the covers, and without even needing to be asked, he wrapped his arms around V, and she rested her head against his chest in return.

“Get some rest, samurai… the city will still be there waiting for us when you awake.”

Thank ya kindly for reading! I'm always down for some constructive criticism and I love to read any lovely comments about my fics. Do let me know if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta reader for Cyberpunk just yet, so a few mistakes may have gotten away from me!

And feel free to send in asks/requests! I'm so in love with Johnny and V and I can spend hours thinking and talking about them aaaaa

#CW Panic Attack #Cyberpunk 2077 #Johnny Silverhand #Johnny Silverhand x V #V #my works #fanfic #fluff #hurt and comfort is my kink ngl?#god i just.... lOVE THESE TWO SM

69 notes · View notes

yourcoffindoor · 4 years

Text

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 3

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

AN: Without further ado, here’s part 3! Sorry if there’s any typos that I missed, I kind of speed edited this one. I have one more part planned for this series, so the end is coming up soon. Hope you enjoy!!

From city to city, crowd to crowd, the tour continued on, and you went on with the show, your unwelcome encounter with Alex only making you more tenacious, more determined to outperform every band there.

You put on an unaffected front, making it seem as if you couldn't care less that he was playing Warped tour as well. Gavin was the only band member who knew about your history, and he fluttered about you like a mother hen ready to offer comfort or homicide at the drop of a hat. He would regularly attempt to gauge your feelings, but it only served to make you withdraw deeper into yourself, denying that could ever be shaken by his presence.

But the truth was you were shaken. You were scared. Scared that you would one day see that face smirking at you from a crowd and freeze, unable to ignore a presence so heavy and halting like a storm cloud threatening a downpour.

And then there was Gerard. You hadn't seen him since your first show, but your thoughts turned toward him again and again. What must he have thought that day, when Alex forced his way between you? When you stormed off alone? If he had tried to come and speak to you since that day, you hadn't heard anything. Did he think that there was still something left between you and Alex?

It was that thought that caused the most pain every time it crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for it. At night when you were alone your thoughts went around and around in the same infuriating cycle, from not caring what anyone had to think about you, to anxiously wondering if Gerard had someone else he was sharing that crooked smile with. You never let the words cross your mind or leave your lips, but your heart beat constantly with the hopeful thought: Please don't think that I could have feelings for anyone else.

Meanwhile, the Parties never ended--in fact they seemed to grow in boisterousness, picking up attendees like a tornado gathering wind. Your band mates went every now and again to socialize, but They held no value for you. Primarily because the chance of running into Alex was far too high-- You knew he would never miss an opportunity to get shit faced, and he would probably be skulking around in hopes of seeing you there, ready to latch on and torment you further. But beyond that, the chance of running into Gerard was likely to be less than zero.

That didn't stop your band mates from encouraging you to loosen up, hoping to pop the contemplative bubble that you'd encased yourself in for weeks.

"I'm gonna head out. What are you up to tonight? You should take a break from everything." Gavin suggested before heading out one night, despite knowing full well you'd die before you'd agree.

"I'll find something to keep me busy."

"I'd tell you to come with, but I know a certain someone you're crushing on won't be there."

"Oh really?" You flipped through a book on the table in front of you, playing dumb and failing miserably at it. "I do not know to whom you are referring."

"Yeah poor guy. Frank told me that there's too much pressure to drink here, so he's always in the bus alone. Bored. Desperate for human contact."

You gave Gavin the side-eye. "Alright alright, we get it."

He laughed. "Their bus is five down on the left. Y'know, if you feel like it. Thank me later." He said, darting out the door before anything could be thrown at him.

You rolled your eyes and flipped through the book, trying to read and forget the information that was just dropped in your lap. You remembered when you and Gerard had last spoke, how shy he looked when he attempted to invite you over before being cut off by Alex's sudden arrival.

Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt, you thought to yourself. He was in the middle of asking me to anyway...

Before you knew it you were on your feet, flinging on a jacket and taking a step outside. It would be the nice thing to do after all, since he can't leave the bus...

It took a bit of searching, but you finally found a bus with My Chemical Romance painted on its side in large black letters. Your heart did its familiar flutter as you walked up to the door, raising your hand and giving a rapid succession of knocks.

You heard a slight shuffle from inside, and after a few moments Gerard answered, his face changing from one of confusion to a soft smile as he shook the hair from out of his eyes.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," you said sheepishly, "I was told I could find some good comics here."

He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Is there ever a bad time for comics? Come on in."

You followed him inside, and he stopped suddenly. "Aw shit." he muttered.

"What is it?" you asked, concerned.

"I just realized we're fucking slobs."

He wasn't wrong, you observed with a laugh. The interior of the bus was divided into piles of organized chaos; clothes tossed into piles on the floor and empty chairs, makeup left open and scattered amongst soda cans by every available counter space. A few stray guitars sat soundless, happily resting until their next performance.

Gerard was obviously a bit embarrassed by the state of the place, as evidenced by the faint red blush that clouded over his nose and cheeks.

"Yeah, so its not exactly Buckingham Palace in here..." he joked, one hand anxiously running through his dark hair. His bashfulness only endeared him to you further.

"Well my bus actually IS Buckingham Palace, and it looks just about the same so don't feel too bad."

"Perfect. Anything to make you feel more at home." He mused, relocating some crumpled clothes from a small sofa nearby. "Have a seat, your majesty."

"I haven't seen you around in awhile." You noted as he hastily shoved things into cupboards.

"I've basically turned into a hermit when I'm not performing. Since I can't step outside without seeing a bottle, I don't really have much choice."

So Gavin was telling the truth. Hm.

"Well, the hermit lifestyle is probably underrated anyway."

He laughed softly. "Oh for sure. And I'll show you whats been keeping me busy this whole time."

Gerard shuffled to the back of the bus for a moment before returning with an armload of comic books, laying them proudly on the table in front of you. "These are some of my current favorites," he began after taking a seat beside you, close enough for you to admire the look of sheer happiness in his expression as he spoke. He was clearly in his element. "This one here has some of the best coloring I've ever seen."

You must have stared at him for a bit too long because he caught your affectionate glance and paused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," you said, immediately breaking eye contact as heat flooded your cheeks. "Its just nice to hear you talk about them. You're so passionate about it."

He laughed. "Well its also nice to talk about them with someone who gets it."

You felt like you could fly right out of your skin. Everything about him made you feel a sense of belonging that you hadn't found with anyone else before.

"Hey when do I get to see that comic you said you were working on? I think you mentioned that the last time I saw you."

"Oh you remembered! Uh, one sec, I'll pull it out."

He wandered back into the unknown void that was his bunk, and came back with a folio filled to the brim with concepts, sample panels and character sketches.

"I'm pretty proud of this. Its a work in progress so uh...be gentle."

You knew Gerard was talented, but you were taken aback at the skill and creativity that had gone into this endeavor. Here he had created a world entirely his own and you were drawn in immediately.

"Gerard this is fucking fantastic! Seriously I need a full length comic right now."

"Right now? I'd rather talk to you."

You and Gerard talked as if you'd known each other forever. You found him to be witty and charming, but most importantly sincere; and the conversation flowed with ease.

"You know I'm a little surprised. I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to be alone in his bus on a big tour like this."

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a lot of bands here that seem like they're only motivated by the attention they can get from girls. You're not like that."

"Its never been about that for me. I find those guys just as annoying as you do." He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he was unsure if he should continue. "Speaking of annoying...That guy, Alex--"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him. I didn't even know he was gonna be on this tour since I haven't spoken to him in ages. I'm doing my best to avoid him."

"You seemed pretty upset when I saw you last. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering you or anything."

You paused for a moment, replaying his words in your head to process them. Gerard not only noticed your reaction to Alex, he remembered and was concerned?

"So you guys aren't like...a thing anymore?"

"NO," you said a bit too eagerly. "I mean no, definitely not. I'd have to be crazy."

"Good," he replied softly, "I mean, I'm glad as long as you're happy."

You realized you had been making eye contact with his lips, the pair of you inching closer to each other with every syllable.

Your breath slowed, and you tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "And...there's no one that you're involved with?"

"No," he confirmed without missing a beat, "but there is someone I have in mind."

If there was a speed limit for heartbeats, you would have been violating the law. Your next words came out almost as a whisper. "And who would that be?"

Hazel eyes flashing, Gerard cupped the side of your face with one hand, and you instinctively moved closer to meet his lips. The kiss felt like it was part dream, too good to be true as endorphins flooded your veins, a heat kindling in your stomach. You couldn't begin to tell if it lasted seconds or minutes, but still when your lips parted, it felt too soon.

"Oh." was all you could say, and the pair of you merely grinned, satisfied to be silent in the aftermath.

You caught a glance at your watch. 1:05 AM.

"I can't believe I have the willpower to do this," you began reluctantly, "but If I don't head back now I'll end up living here."

"I don't see the problem." he remarked, and you punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for a great night." you pecked him on the cheek, and before he had time to react, you jumped up and made your way towards the door.

"Come back anytime for more talk about comics!" he called after you with a laugh.

Your cheeks were buzzing and a warmth spread through your veins, giddy from your night with Gerard. You paused outside of your bus door, taking a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion from your band mates-not yet anyway. You just wanted to keep this moment to yourself for awhile.

After you cooled down, you quietly opened the door, hoping nobody would notice you sneaking in and that you could hop straight into your bunk. Instead you were met with Gavin and Liz sitting down on the sofa, looking very concerned.

"Hey," you said with hesitation, "Everything alright?"

They shared an uncomfortable look.

"Y/N, I'm not sure how to put this..." Liz began, fumbling with her fingers in an attempt to find the right words.

"What's going on?" you felt the blush from only moments ago drain away into cold dread.

"Its Alex," Gavin explained, "He and his band have been going around with a camera getting girls to flash them in exchange for backstage passes..."

You rolled your eyes. "So he's still trash. What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, he's been telling people he has video of you. And him. Together. And that its gonna be included with the rest of the fucked up footage they're recording."

Your pulse started racing, erasing your giddy buzz from only moments before. You slumped into the nearest chair, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I never even knew I was being filmed..." you said softly. Nausea bubbled in your stomach as you were unwillingly dragged back into your intimate memories, a place you had successfully moved on from in recent years but whose impact you could never truly erase.

"Are you ok?" Liz asked, her voice low and gentle as though she was afraid you were about to shatter. Those words were all you needed to be set off.

"No. No I'm not fucking okay." You stood up suddenly from your chair, pacing. "Do you know how hard it was to leave that situation? Do you you know you much I struggled to make a life an a name for myself? How I had to rebuild myself after him? And now this?" You were shaking, your voice trembling with pent up emotion. "This was supposed to be an amazing, once in a lifetime experience. The beginning of everything for us. So why can't I just be left the fuck alone!"

Your band mates called after you as you stormed to your bunk, pulling the curtains tight behind you and burying your face in your pillow. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself break down, your unhindered sobs turning your pillow into an ocean.

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine

89 notes · View notes

theliterateape · 5 years

Text

A Few Bad Apples (and Rampantly Unhygienic Ones, Too)

By Don Hall When I first arrived in Chicago back in April of '89 after moving here on a whim, I had no job, no money to speak of, knew no one in town. The only dough I had came from an Optima card (formerly the Amex Credit Card) and whatever I could pick up from playing my trumpet at El stops. In spite of my meager cabbage count, being new to the Big City, I was often compelled to help those in need by donating a small portion of what I had to the street's many homeless. And in three short months, I learned to stop giving. One cat hit me up three times in three different areas with exactly the same story — the thing about his sick wife in the car with no gas and three dollars for gas was all he needed. The third time I gave him a fiver and told him that I only owed him a dollar next time. Another begged for money because he hadn't eaten so I went inside a White Hen and grabbed him a bagel, which he then stuffed into his jacket and continued to ask other passers-by for money because he hadn't eaten in three days. In the ensuing thirty years, I rarely, if ever, spare any change for these folks. When I smoked cigarettes, I could always spare one because at least I have no doubt in my mind what they'll do with it and "Can you spare a smoke?" is at least honest. Every time I feel shitty not giving someone in need a few bucks, I'm reminded that I feel shittier if I find out my compassion has been abused.

Here in Las Vegas, panhandlers are a bit more sly and, I’d argue, more successful. It is, after all, a city built upon tourists throwing away their income on overpriced drinks and slot machines. With the economy only soaring for the Yacht Club of America, I figure more and more Americans will resort to the street-side charity move, so here are a few lessons that might make the neophyte beggars a bit more successful. If you're going to play an instrument or sing, have some ability, yeah? Singing "My Girl" over and over off key or blaring barely remembered Christmas songs on an out of tune sax just irritates the fuck out of everyone. Trust me, you'll do better looking pathetic than you will annoying people. And, dude? That plastic egg shaker doesn't count as an instrument. If you're going to lie about why you need the cash, at least have a couple of good, entertaining ones and shop them around Put some effort into this. If you're going to panhandle, be the best damn panhandler around.

Try things outside the box instead of the obvious. NO: I haven't eaten for three days. YES: I'm a Juilliard trained pianist who lost his family in a bus accident and now I nobly carry my grief by giving up on life, but if you help me I can bring you a sense of fulfillment in your otherwise empty and meaningless existence. NO: I need a place to stay. YES: I'm in search of the Holy Grail!! NO: My wife is sick and needs medicine (or gas for the car to get her to the hospital). YES: My wife is an S&M freak and if I don't get enough cash together to buy her a chain of anal beads, she's gonna chop off my tool. If you smell like piss and your fingernails are three inches long, no one will give you money We're Americans, remember? We'll spend millions of dollars on air fresheners, deodorants, colognes and FaBreeze to avoid bad smells and poor hygiene. Take thirty minutes a day and freshen up some. A whore's bath in a 7-Eleven works wonders — try washing those pants in a toilet. Trust me, the water in there is cleaner than you standing around in your own stink. A dirty hobo just communicates that you don't care anymore. Keep in mind that the homeless in the 1930s were sort of quaint and charming (and mostly in black and white or sepia toned). They wore suits and had dreams of rabbit farms and getting back on their feet. If you had a job, who would you give a buck to: Burl Ives or Ratso Rizzo from A Midnight Cowboy? If you're grossly obese, don't make a sign that says you'll work for food. Don't try to chat people up and please avoid speeches. First, everyone is making speeches these days. Second, it just makes everyone aware of how guilty they feel that they're gonna blow $4.00 on a cup of sugary, whipped coffee and pay $170.00 to see Hamilton. Avoid being overly religious. If Jesus really gave a shit, don't you think you'd be watching ComCast instead of sleeping under Wacker Drive? Also, condemning people for their sins is only a way to motivate baptists to shell out some guilt money. The rest of us are being constantly shamed for our privilege, our racism, our meat-eating ways, and our use of Amazon. Losing your job is like losing anything important to you — your marriage tanks, your kids move away, someone close to you croaks — it's like you’re suddenly living someone else's life.

You can either be a character out of a Spike Lee Joint or King of the Road.

#homeless epidemic #Trickle Down Economics #satire #panhandling

0 notes