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megalony · 1 year ago

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You've Been Hurt

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a request by anon. I hope you all like it, any feedback is always lovely.

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911 Masterlist

Summary: The 118 is shook up after a call out when someone open fires on them. Eddie does everything he can to protect his wife. Luckily no one gets hurt, or so they think.

Enjoy.

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The wave of tiredness that washed over (Y/n) started to drift away like the tide leaving the ocean when her eyes landed on a very familiar mop of brown curls and a set of broad shoulders that straightened out in front of her. She pushed forward and leaned up on her toes, gluing her chest and abdomen up into his back while her arms cocooned around his neck.

Her chin perched on Eddie's shoulder and she leaned across to peck his neck cheekily. She could feel his head turn towards her and he kissed her temple while he brought his hands up to hold her wrists.

"Is it time for home yet?"

"Hm, afraid not mi amor. Six more hours."

(Y/n) burrowed her face further into his neck to smother her groan of disappointment. She wanted to go home now. She wanted to be curled up on the sofa with Eddie wrapped around her like a comfort blanket.

They had been on shift for six hours, they were halfway through their shift but (Y/n) just wanted to go home. The only good thing was with them both having Chris, they didn't do that many double shifts because of childcare. (Y/n) wasn't sure she'd be able to cope on the double shifts anymore when she barely managed to sleep at home unless Eddie was there beside her.

"Let's pack it up and get back for lunch." Bobby waved his hand and motioned to the truck. They needed to go and refuel before another call dragged them back out again and kept them busy.

(Y/n) nudged her nose up and pecked Eddie's jaw, reaching to sink her teeth down into his skin just to hear him growl before she pulled back and scuttled over towards the truck.

She whipped her helmet up from the floor and grabbed the hacksaw she had been using earlier, ready to pack them away in the truck. The compartments slammed open and closed as everyone put their equipment and helmets back. (Y/n) almost lost herself in her thoughts as she put her helmet back but a spark of adrenaline lit up in her stomach when she felt Eddie lean over her shoulder to put his helmet back.

He muttered a quiet "Excuse me," against her ear and let his hand wander down to her bum before he turned and headed after Evan to pile into the truck.

Evan pulled himself up into the truck and moved to take a seat while Eddie climbed up behind him. He could feel (Y/n) close behind him and he found himself smiling.

Until a gunshot rang out through the air.

He could see Evan jerk forward with his arms up over his head and his knees jolted up like he had been given an electric shock and was starting to spasm. And when another gunshot fired into the truck and smashed through a window, Eddie was sure he screamed.

Eddie felt (Y/n) scream into his back when more shots started to fire and her hands clamped down on his arms. She glued herself into his back, trying to get him to move before they got hit because they were still in the firing line. Eddie scrambled to get one arm behind his back so he could grab (Y/n)'s arm and make sure she stayed behind him, but he wasn't sure whether she pushed him or whether she fell into him.

Either way, he stumbled down onto his knees with (Y/n) on his back and his free hand slammed into the floor to break his fall and stop his head from colliding with the metal floor and giving himself a nosebleed.

No one at this scene had been going around waving a gun. They weren't here to sort out a fight or a threatening situation with a gunman. If they were, the scene would be flooded with police. They didn't even have the ambulance with them today because they had no injured persons to deal with. Who was shooting at them? Why were they being targeted?

"Get down! Get on the floor!" Evan jerked his right arm out and pulled Chimney's arm before he moved to do the same to Hen, trying to drag them both down onto the floor.

Someone was shooting at them, they needed to cower down in the footwell below the windows so they weren't easy targets. Sitting in their seats made them easy to spot and aim at. (Y/n) and Eddie had been stood up when the shots started, they might have been aiming for both of them.

Chimney and Hen went down on their knees and leaned forward with their heads hunkered down low and their hands braced on the seats in front of them.

When the shock started to turn into adrenaline, Eddie shifted around so he was laid on his back instead of his stomach. He coiled one arm around his wife's waist and reeled her up into his chest, pulling her until her legs were no longer dangling out the door. He nudged her in Evan's direction before he shimmied down on his back to try and reach for the door.

He counted to three in his head before he bolted up like he was doing a sit up and grabbed the door to swing it shut.

Once it was closed, Eddie turned back around and reached both his hands out for (Y/n).

He hadn't been shot at since he was in the army and that was over five years ago. Eddie didn't think he would ever have to worry about someone aiming a gun at him for the rest of his life. He thought that part of his life was over. He was back home with his family, gunshots should only ring in his ears when he was having a nightmare. This was the worst nightmare there was. His wife was here with him. Eddie never wanted (Y/n) to have that kind of experience or be in the line of fire.

Everything within (Y/n) turned to mush. Adrenaline sparked through her blood and flurried through her stomach that was tingling with nerves as all the blood rushed to her head.

She cocooned her arms to her chest but she let herself go limp when she felt Eddie grabbing her. He reeled her over to him until she was curled around his thighs but her breath caught in her lungs when Eddie moulded himself over her like he was trying to press them both together and merge them into one being. His chest weighed down on her back, but it was a soothing, comforting weight like a blanket. He kept an arm around her waist and smothered his lips into the back of her hair.

She knew he was whispering something, but through the panic and the blood pumping through her ears, (Y/n) couldn't work out what he was saying. It didn't take a genius to guess that Eddie was reverting back to his army training and whatever he said was some kind of mantra to get him through this.

She dug her fingers into his thighs and closed her eyes tight, letting each breath fan into his thigh and dampen his trouser leg. Hoping it would stop her from having a panic attack and also give Eddie something else to focus on.

"Drive! Drive- go!"

"Everyone stay low!"

Bobby turned the lights on but not the sirens and leaned forward until his head was level with the steering wheel for extra coverage and protection. He didn't think twice before slamming his foot down on the gas to get them moving. Whoever was shooting was aiming for them and they needed to move.

"This is Captain Nash, shots fired! Repeat, shots are being fired we need police assistance. Is anyone hurt?"

There was nothing they could do. They couldn't stay and try to see if anyone was injured or hurt or stop the gunman when they seemed to be the targets.

Everyone took a quick glance down at themselves before they looked over at one another. No one seemed to have been hit and one of the windows had smashed but the glass hadn't cut any of them. They had escaped that one safe enough, but it had been close.

They were all still bowed down, no one dared lift their head above the chairs but Hen braved it first to move around until she was sat on the floor instead of kneeling down. She slouched until her head was resting back on the chair behind her and her arms could curl around her knees that she brought up to her stomach. Chimney stayed kneeling down and kept himself wedged into the corner and Evan stayed hunched over on his knees with his hands rubbing up and down his thighs to try and calm himself down.

Silence continued to envelope them as they all looked around at each other, but their eyes started to linger on Eddie longer and longer when he started to rock back and forth. He had his eyes closed as tight as possible and both his arms were keeping (Y/n) pinned between his legs and his chest so he could stay coiled around her. But when they began to hear what he was whispering, they all looked at each other.

"Shots fired… we're going down."

He must have repeated himself over ten times before Evan finally worked up the courage to rest his hand on Eddie's shoulder. He hated the way his brother in law jerked away from him and the rabid, frightening look when Eddie glared up at him.

"Are you both okay?" Evan didn't think they had been shot or caught bu the bullets, neither of them were screaming in agony or seemed to be bleeding out anywhere. But he needed to check that his little sister and his brother in law were alright.

When Eddie didn't respond, Evan reached over and tried to carefully pull Eddie up. Eddie allowed Evan to help him sit up and he shuffled back until he was slouched down much the same as how Hen was sitting. His pupils had blown wide and his chest was rising and falling so quickly he was going to make himself pass out. His panicked state made it somewhat easier for Evan to check him over and make sure he wasn't hurt. He didn't have any injuries.

But when Evan tried to reach for his sister and reel her up, he jerked back into Chimney when Eddie gripped his wrist. His hold was ferociously tight and his fingers were already bruising into Evan's skin and making him shake.

His face fell into a look of despair and that was enough to make Eddie realise what he was doing. He dropped Evan's hand with a very quiet apology and tried to stop the trembling from setting in through his system. But (Y/n) was his wife. She was his girl and he wanted to protect her. Eddie needed to protect her. No one else needed to touch or her get close to her apart from him.

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Eddie's shaking hands curl around her elbows so he could reel her up. She let him pull her up and when she was close enough, she shifted around. She sat down between his thighs, wiggling closer until her back was pressed into his chest and Eddie's thighs clamped down tightly into her legs, squeezing her between him.

(Y/n) couldn't find her voice, but she managed to nod her head at her brother. She was okay, she had to be okay. She didn't feel like she was in agony and that was a good sign.

Her head slumped down against Eddie's chest and she bound both her arms around his middle as she closed her eyes. She whispered "it's okay," and pressed a kiss against his chest through his shirt until Eddie coiled his arms around her waist and smothered his face against the top of her head.

Her ears were pounding with her heartbeat that was beating beneath every inch of her skin like she was a drum or a sound machine vibrating madly. Adrenaline was still forming and churning in her stomach and it made her feel sick. The gunshots had sent her falling into Eddie and it had made her lower back twinge in pain which was still aching and there was a dull throb between her hips from how they landed.

The shots must have been close.

"Is anyone hurt? Do I have to make a trip down to the hospital?" Bobby needed an answer. The turning for the hospital was coming up and he could either take that turn, or carry on straight and head back to the station.

"We're good, Cap."

None of them wanted to move when the truck pulled up in the station.

All of them seemed to exchange looks before Evan sighed and took the plunge. He used the seat behind him as leverage and pushed up to his feet so he could carefully climb over Eddie and his sister. He opened the door and hopped down. He cracked his neck into place and stretched his arms in front of him while he waited for everyone else to follow him out.

Hen climbed over Eddie to get out, followed by Chimney. She folded her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her sleeves to try and calm herself down. Any one of them could have gotten a gunshot wound today.

"Are you okay?" It was the first proper thing Eddie managed to say and he fought every instinct within him to unravel his arms from (Y/n)'s waist.

His hands moved to cup her face and he leaned his forehead down against hers, brushing their noses together as he stared into her eyes that worked wonders on calming his soul. He wished she had been stood in front of him instead of behind him. He could have pushed her down quicker and covered her better if she had gotten in the truck first. Grabbing her from behind him had been so much harder and she could have gotten hurt.

"I think so… help a girl up, handsome."

(Y/n) pressed a quick, wet kiss against his lips before she felt his hands move to hold her hips. He stood on shaking legs and pulled her up with him, kissing her again and moved to climb down first. Their hands stayed tangled together and (Y/n) curled her free hand around Eddie's bicep, gluing herself into his back.

Bobby had his hands on his hips, his foot was tapping against the floor and he moved one hand to drag across his chin before he scratched his nails into the back of his head.

"The police will be down here soon to take statements, and I'll need you all to complete some paperwork for the Chief, but that can wait until tomorrow. Does anyone need to see a councellor or have a session before you carry on with your shifts?"

The police would no doubt be here within the hour to take statements and talk them all through what happens next. And Bobby would need to fill out an incident report and have everyone make their statements for the paperwork. He could let that wait until tomorrow, until the shock had worn off and everyone felt better.

But they all knew that they had a right to see a councellor or therapist and if they wanted to, they could have an appointment to be cleared to come back to work. Bobby wouldn't want anyone to carry on working if they felt too shaky or unsettled and thought they should talk it through with someone first. Their health and wellbeing came first and they had almost taken a bullet today, it would be understandable if anyone wanted to go home.

(Y/n) buried her nose into Eddie's jacket and tightened her hands around his arm when she felt a little lightheaded. The shock was starting to set in and she couldn't tell who was shaking more; her or her husband.

"Are you all sure you're okay?"

A chorus of 'yes' and nodding heads filled the air and Bobby waved his hand at them. They all knew what to do. Go get changed, get themselves a drink and try to calm down while he sorted dinner before the station became flooded with police.

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a few seconds when everyone started to disappear and float around the station.

She didn't now what to do. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to collapse and pass out. Her head was spinning so violently she thought it was going to disconnect from her neck. Her lower back was aching and thumping with her heartbeat and her knees were starting to wobble. All she really wanted to do was go home and lie down in bed.

But she would feel silly and cruel and weak if she asked to go home. She didn't want to speak to a councellor, Eddie would be the one out of them all who would benefit the most from that. (Y/n) wanted to take him home, but she knew he wouldn't want to go home just yet and she wasn't leaving his side.

"Let's hit the gym."

(Y/n) let her eyes drag over to her brother who was shaking his hands at his side, clearly full of adrenaline that he didn't know how to get rid of.

She knew what he meant by that. He meant he was going to go into the gym and break the equipment. He had ripped the last punching bag they had at the station after a bad fallout with their parents when they were last in town.

Eddie nodded in agreement and he glanced his eyes over at (Y/n) who squeezed his arm. She would go along with them, she didn't want to be parted from Eddie just yet and they had nothing else to do but calm down. Her face stayed buried in his arm and she closed her eyes, letting Eddie turn them both around and guide them down towards the gym.

She felt dizzy.

Her legs were starting to tremble again and (Y/n) pinched her fingers into Eddie's arm as they reached the gym.

She felt his lips press against the top of her head and he helped her flop down onto the bench like she had turned to jelly. When Eddie shrugged off his jacket, a smile pulled on his lips and he looked a little more human and relaxed when (Y/n) reached her hands out in a grabbing motion. She took his jacket and coiled it into her chest, breathing in his scent to see if it would calm her down and ward away the shock rattling through her body.

"You sure you're okay mi amor?"

"In shock I think."

(Y/n) managed a smile when Eddie cupped her chin and dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulling it down. He bent forward and kissed her sweetly and then he waited, watching closely as (Y/n) leaned to her right and laid out on the bench.

She held Eddie's jacket against her chest and kept the collar pressed into her nose to calm herself down and breathe in his scent again. When her eyes fell closed and she started to hum, Eddie turned around and moved over to Evan. He didn't feel like doing any training or exercises just yet, but he would gladly watch Evan and chat to him if he wanted to talk.

(Y/n) didn't know how long they had been in the gym, all the noises around them seemed to fizzle and drown out and she was sure she passed out for a little while. It could have been a few minutes, but it could have been half an hour for all (Y/n) knew.

"I think Bobby wants us." Evan heaved and nodded towards the door where Bobby was waving them over. It would either be to get something to eat or have a chat and do a quick statement with the police. Either way, neither of them cared, they would do whatever they needed to. Half an hour in the gym had calmed Evan down and cooled Eddie off back to a more human form of himself.

Evan took off his boxing gloves and headed out the room, glancing his eyes at his sister who was still laid out but he knew Eddie would check on her and get her up. He figured they both needed some time together.

"Mi amor, do you want to come and get a drink?"

Eddie crouched down in front of (Y/n), resting his elbows on his knees while he reached one hand out and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. He grazed his fingertips across her cheek and down her jaw until she opened her eyes and tried to smile, but when she winced, Eddie tilted his head to the side.

"Do you feel okay, baby?"

"Hm," (Y/n) didn't have any energy to speak so she tried to shake her head, but she found she could barely do that either.

Her throat felt dry and sticky and her eyes wouldn't open or focus properly, she could barely narrow her vision on Eddie's mesmerising eyes. Her body felt so heavy she couldn't move and her back was now aching and killing her with a more intense, throbbing pain that made tears well up in her eyes.

She managed to move her hands just enough to reach them out towards Eddie, sweetly and silently asking if he would help her up.

He obliged with a tender smile, moving his jacket out of her grip so he could hold her hands and gently sit her up. He stood in front of her and pulled her up but the moment she was on her feet, her head started to spin. Her knees trembled and her head flopped forward into Eddie's chest as she groaned. She felt dizzy and sick and feverish all at once.

Her knees juttered into his thighs and her hands gripped his exposed arms before he cocooned his arms around her waist to stop her from going down to the floor.

"Shh, come here, I got you." He leaned her back and sat her back down on the bench. He needed to take a look at her, she clearly wasn't feeling well. The shock might be getting to her and taking over and if that was the case, Eddie needed to take her home.

After what they had been through, it would probably be best if they went home.

A frown formed on his lips when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple and realised she was sweating and starting to get a fever. Shock wouldn't necessarily push her into a feverish state like this.

"Do you feel sick, baby? You're burning up."

"Hurts," Her voice croaked and a few tears trickled down her face, making Eddie's heart drop down to his stomach.

"What hurts, hm? Talk to me, it's okay." He tried to cup her face and tilt her head up but even then, her eyes were still hooded and they wouldn't focus on him. (Y/n) finally closed her eyes and flopped her head forward onto his shoulder with a thump that jostled him.

He barely managed to hear her mutter 'my back' into his neck before she tried to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Let me take a look, sweet girl."

Eddie reached behind him and pulled (Y/n)'s arms back down so they dropped between them. He carefully rolled her florescent jacket down her shoulders and shimmied it off her arms before he dropped it to the floor along with his. He hushed her quietly when she nuzzled her nose into his neck and whimpered and he trailed his hands down her back and around to her hips as he straightened up and tried to lean over her shoulder.

But his lips curled into a frown when he felt something wet on his hand.

Terror was the only thing Eddie could feel when he lifted his left hand from her back and held it up in front of his eyes.

Blood.

Why was she bleeding? What had happened to her? Why wasn't she groaning or screaming in pain and telling him she was hurt? Why didn't she tell him she was bleeding from somewhere like this?

"Oh God- baby you're bleeding!"

Eddie pushed up and swiftly sat down beside her on the bench so he could try and see what was going on. He shuddered when (Y/n) flopped across his lap with a thump and buried her face into his thighs that she tried to squeeze to show she was still conscious and awake.

With her laid over his lap, Eddie grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it free from her trousers so he could yank it up to her shoulders. His fingers hooked into the hem of her trousers and he gave them a little tug down but his heart dropped down to his stomach and bile rose in the back of his throat when he saw what the problem was.

She had been shot.

The wound was small, not much larger than a mole and Eddie figured the bullet couldn't have been from a sniper because there was no exit wound in or around her stomach. That was a good thing. He didn't want to have a hole shot through his wife's stomach, she wouldn't survive from that.

It was rather close to her right hip but Eddie couldn't pinpoint what had been hit. She could have caught a kidney, her intestine, even her hipbone. At least it wasn't close to her spine.

The adrenaline must have countered out the pain and it amazed Eddie that (Y/n) had gone this long without collapsing. But that meant she had gone almost an hour, bleeding out and steadily getting worse right before his eyes and he hadn't known. He hadn't done anything to help her or make her better, he had done absolutely nothing for his wife.

When he dared to sneak a glance down to the floor, he reached down and moved her jacket around a little. And sure enough, right there between the A and the Z of their shared last name, there was a small circular rip in the fabric with gunshot residue caked around the fraying cotton.

How had he missed that?

"Baby, baby we gotta go now. Come on, come here."

Eddie slipped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her back up into a sitting position. He hated the way her head flopped forward into her chest and how her shoulders slugged down and made her look like a puppet with no strings.

"Go?" (Y/n) tried to mumble and reach her hand out for Eddie's wrist but she could feel herself starting to drift off.

Where were they going? What was the sudden rush? Why did she feel like she was slowly draining away?

"You've been hurt baby, I need to take you to hospital. Just stay with me, hm? You stay awake and talk to me, sweet girl. Come on now."

His hands stayed under her arms while he moved to crouch back down in front of her. He grabbed her hands and slung her arms loosely around his neck and lifted her head onto his shoulder before his hands moved to cup her bum. Eddie hoisted (Y/n) up and secured his right arm around her bum while his left hand cradled the back of her neck to keep her steady on his chest as he began to run.

He didn't know where his sudden burst of adrenaline and energy had come from but it powered him to run out the gym and down the corridor until he was back in the main floor of the station.

"Buck! Buck, go- go someone start the ambulance we need to move!"

"What? Eddie what's wrong?"

"Eddie, what's going on?"

Evan hurried up down the stairs when he saw Eddie run past him and his eyes narrowed. He was sure he could see (Y/n) in his arms. What the Hell was he doing carrying Evan's sister around the station like that? Why was she limp and fraying in his arms? What were they doing?

Eddie moved his hand from the back of (Y/n)'s neck to point Hen towards the ambulance until she seemed to get the hint. She dropped whatever paperwork was in her hands and flung open the back doors although she had no idea why.

"Eddie-"

"She's been shot! The adrenaline's wearing off, she's been shot in the back- get us to the fucking hospital now!"

Eddie didn't break his stride. As soon as he was close enough, he reached his hand out for the ambulance door and used it as leverage to propell himself up the steps to get inside. He hunched over, cradled the back of (Y/n)'s neck again and leaned over the gurney to lay her down as carefully as possible. He laid her on her left side so she was facing him and stretched her arms out in front of her so they hung off the side of the gurney.

He bolted round to stand on the other side of the gurney just as Evan clambered up into the back with them and Bobby and Chimney hung at the doors, desperate to know what was going on.

"Eddie, what the fuck… (Y/n)? Sis, hey stay with me," Evan crouched down in front of the gurney and moved his hands to cradle his sister's face in his palms. He shook her head until she managed to open her eyes but he looked up at Eddie when he grabbed a pair of scissors and slashed up the centre of (Y/n)'s scrunched up shirt. He ripped it apart and pulled it off her arms before he sat down behind her.

"She was shot?"

"There's a bullet hole here, I- the adrenaline must have clouded the pain, come on we have to go!"

Bobby pointed Hen towards the driver's side of the ambulance, muttering that he and Chimney would follow along behind them and meet them there.

Reaching across the gurney, Eddie handed Evan a pulse monitoring clip so he could attach it to (Y/n)'s finger while Eddie slipped a blood pressure cuff onto her arm.

"Fuck, her BP is dropping fast, I don't know what kind of internal bleeding she's got. Here, give her some adrenaline, I need to pack the wound." Eddie handed over a pre-filled needle of adrenaline before he sat down behind his wife and got to work. He grabbed two sheets of gauze and pressed them as forcefully to (Y/n)'s back as he could until she weakly mewled and her arms spasmed in front of her.

He ripped some medical tape between his teeth and taped it tightly over the gauze to keep it in place. He then stood up and leaned over the gurney while he pressed his fingertips around (Y/n)'s hip, squeezing her waist and pressing down over her stomach. Her skin was flushed and the squidgy, jelly feeling told Eddie she did have internal bleeding.

"Alright baby, you can keep the pressure on that for me, hm? You can do that, can't you?"

Eddie's hands shifted to (Y/n)'s shoulder and he reached around and hooked a hand beneath her tummy so he could carefully roll her onto her back. Laying directly on her back would add all her weight onto the wound and stop the blood from oozing out as quickly. They needed the blood to stem as much as possible so she didn't bleed out in here.

They had no transfusions to give her and an IV would do nothing if she had no blood left to circulate through her body.

Reaching beneath the gurney, Eddie found the oxygen machine and switched it on before he strapped the mask over (Y/n)'s nose and mouth. He leant down to kiss her burning temple but he pulled back when she started to gasp. Her chest juttered up and down like she was starting to seize and a horrible tremble set in across her body as her heartbeat began to drop.

"She's going into shock," Eddie ransacked one of the drawers until he found a thermometer and pressed it into (Y/n)'s ear. "Fever's burning high, she's gonna shut down. Get the compress packs out and find me all the saline bags. Now Buck!"

The same tremors that rattled through (Y/n) began to shudder through Evan as he turned around and shakily pulled out drawer after drawer to find what he was told to search for.

He found the cold compress packs and he took a sharp breath when his brother in law snatched them and placed one over (Y/n)'s chest near her neck. The rest went over her stomach, against her wrists and down her legs.

Once Evan handed over the four saline bags that were stocked up this morning for emergencies, he frowned. What was Eddie going to do with those? He couldn't hook (Y/n) up to four at once, it wouldn't work it would only overload her system. And they weren't that cold to act as more cold packs to try and bring her fever down.

"Sorry baby, you're not gonna like this."

Evan stumbled back with wide eyes when Eddie held one of the saline bags and pierced it with a scalpal. It burst wide open and Eddie let all the water spray across (Y/n)'s stomach and splash up her neck. He did the same with the other ones that Evan had dumped on the end of the gurney. Each one got torn open and water sprayed all across (Y/n)'s trembling body and splattered up the walls and across both men.

It was the quickest way Eddie could think to drop (Y/n)'s temperature before her organs began to shut down from her fever.

Hen found no words when she opened the back doors and stared at the scene in front of her.

(Y/n) was subtly trembling on the gurney, covered head to toe in water that was dripping down onto the floor as if a tidal wave had washed over the three of them. Compresses were piled up on (Y/n)'s body, both Eddie's hands were smeared with blood that was steadily dribbling down his arm in a strange burnt orange shade, dampened by the saline.

Saying nothing, Hen grabbed the end of the gurney as Evan reached for the top and they both juttered it down to the floor. Eddie kept a tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand as the three of them bolted in through the paramedic's entrance over to a team of doctors that were clearly waiting for them.

"GSW to the lower right side of her back, a lot of internal bleeding. She's running a fever and going into shock."

"N-naproxen and ibuprofen, she's allergic to both. Don't give her any." Evan dragged his hand through his hair when they snatched the gurney and started to steal away his sister.

They had to save her.

***

"Finally! How is she? What's happening?" As quick as a shot, Evan bolted up from his seat and stumbled forward. Tripping over his feet when he realised his hand was still tangled with Maddie's and she wasn't quite stood up yet.

He turned to look at his big sister for a brief moment until she stood at his side, her hand tangled with his and her free hand wrapped around his arm that she had confiscated and pulled tight to her chest.

The last few hours had felt like an eternity had passed them all by. They had filled up the waiting room. Maddie, Evan and Chimney had sat beneath the window, worrying, humming and crying the afternoon away. Hen had gone on multiple coffee runs for everyone and Bobby and Athena had been pacing up and down the hallway. Bobby's rosary beads were wrapped tight around his wrist and curled between his fingers to let him pray.

Eddie had been sat on the floor, knees pulled up to his stomach and his hands clasped together pressed against his lips.

He only moved when the doctor dragged him down the hall to talk in private and no one knew if that was a good thing or not.

"How'd it go?" Maddie tried to control the trembling in her voice as she looked over at Eddie, trying to decipher the expression on his face but he was always hard to read. He was stood in front of them, chest heaving, hands clamped down on his hips and shoulders bursting through his shirt.

Eddie reached a hand up to run across his jaw and scratch down his neck while his eyes danced around the waiting room. He didn't know where to look or who to focus on.

"The bullet ruptured her right kidney, they had to remove it. That's why it's taken so long."

"Y-you can live with just one kidney, right?" Evan wasn't a doctor or a medic, he didn't know how well the body would cope with just one kidney when it was supposed to have two. He'd never had any problems with any of his organs and when he had his accident, it was his leg that had been damaged.

Maddie patted Evan's arm and nodded, trying to smile up at him to reassure him. It wouldn't be easy and it would come with complications, but (Y/n) would be able to live without one kidney.

"They've got her fever down and done two blood transfusions. The only thing they're worried about is if she gets sepsis… we can go see her now."

Eddie felt his brother in law follow closely behind him like he was a shadow, always present and looming behind. But it was oddly comforting to feel Evan this close and he could almost feel the adrenaline rolling off of Evan in waves. He wanted to see his sister. The last look he got of her was seeing her lying on a stretcher, shaking and deadly close to falling into cardiac arrest.

Evan wanted a better image of (Y/n) in his mind. He wanted to see his younger sister smile and take his hand and tell him she was okay. He wanted to hear her speak and see her move around and reassure himself he wasn't about to lose any of his family.

A wide grin broke out across Evan's face and he weaved around Eddie to move and sit down on the chair pulled close to the bed. He reached his hands out and coiled (Y/n)'s hand up to his chest while he watched Eddie move to sit down on the opposite side of the bed. And he felt Maddie move to stand behind the chair, both her hands holding Evan's shoulders comfortingly like they were all children again trying to care for one another.

"How you feeling?"

"Sore…" (Y/n) squeezed Evan's hand but when she tried to push up, she felt Eddie's hands on her shoulders, gently but firmly pushing her back down.

"No, no mi amor. You need to rest." A gentle smile formed on Eddie's lips when he leaned over to kiss her temple and felt her free hand brush across his jaw. She didn't need to be sitting up and moving around when she was only just waking up from the anaesthetic. The last thing they needed was (Y/n) moving and rupturing her stitches.

"Only you could get shot and not even know about it, sis."

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie x reader #imagine #911 imagine #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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omegalomania · 1 year ago

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so im sure everyones fully well aware of the magic 8 ball site fob is using to promote a contest to win some tickets to see them in nashville. the little 8ball widget theyve got in browser is also modeled on the physical 8ball that they had in the vip merch packages for tourdust's first leg, which is cool! but of particular note is the way that, to fill out the contest form, you have to pick your favorite fall out boy songs. and the sheer breadth of what is allowed is...interesting? it's not cohesive by any means, but it is really wild the selection of songs they have here because not all of them are fob songs. in fact, quite a few of them aren't.

i went directly to the source code and got a full list of all possible songs that you could input (which you can check for yourself by right-clicking and selecting "view source"). i'm going to list them here for archival purposes, with a few notes/explanations cause some of these are WILD.

there are 187 songs total listed.

bolded songs indicate songs that are demos or never received an official release

italicized songs are songs by other bands

underlined songs indicate songs that are covers

songs with an asterisk beside them (*) indicate they are from patrick's solo catalogue. two asterisks (**) are for pete's.

additional commentary by me will be [in brackets]

20 Dollar Nose Bleed 27 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) 7-9 Legendary A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" A Nice Myth [one of the earliest fall out boy demos, found on their first ep, and only the casette version at that] Allie* Alone Together Alpha Dog America's Suitehearts American Beauty/American Psycho (song) American Made Art of Keeping Up Disappearances As Long as I Know I'm Getting Paid* Austin, We Have a Problem Baby Annihilation Bad Side of 25* Bang the Doldrums Beat It Big Hype* Bishops Knife Trick Bob Dylan Bounce [this is a song that came out on then-Decaydance labelmates The Cab's debut record, Whisper War, which patrick produced. he has writing credit and also is credited with background vocals (and also shows up in the music video)] Caffeine Cold Calm Before the Storm Centuries Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends Champion Check Your Phone** Chicago is So Two Years Ago Church City in a Garden Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)* Coffee's for Closers Cryptozoology* Cute Girls* Cyanide** [this is a nothing,nowhere song that pete did some spoken word parts and backing vocals on] Dance Miserable* Dance, Dance Dead on Arrival Dear Future Self (Hands Up) Death Valley Deep Blue Love* [song patrick did for the indie short film "spell"] Demigods Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? Electric Touch [the (in?)famous taylor swift song patrick featured on] Eternal Summer Everybody Wants Somebody* Explode* Fake Out Fame Less than Infamy Favorite Record Fellowship of the Nerd [this is an alternate title for world's not waiting, as far as i can tell] Flu Game Flu Game [yes flu game is listed twice for some reason] Footprints in the Snow [demo from the Llamania ep] Fourth of July From Now on We Are Enemies G.I.N.A.S.F.S. Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part to Save the Scene and Stop Going to Shows) Ghostbusters (I'm Not Afraid) Golden Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy Greed* Grenade Jumper Grow Up and Be Kids [this song is on The Cab's sophomore album Symphony Soldier, which release after they left decaydance. nonetheless, pete does have some writing credits on it. give it a listen and you'll hear for yourself in the first 10 seconds or so] Growing Up Hand Crushed by a Mallet [this is a remix of the 100gecs song of the same name; patrick did some vocals for it] Hand of God Have I Got a Gift for You* [song patrick did for the horror movie black friday] Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet Heartbreak Feels So Good Heaven's Gate Heaven, Iowa Hold Me Like a Grudge Hold Me Tight or Don't Homesick at Space Camp Honorable Mention Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside Hum Hallelujah I Am My Own Muse I Don't Care

I Got Nothing, But You Got Something [this is the one that really perplexes me. there's no evidence of this song actually existing, other than an unverified genius post and an article on a single fandom wiki. it is inexplicably listed here despite its very existence being questionable at best.]

I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me) I'm Like a Lawyer with the Way I'm Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) I've Been Waiting [this is technically a lil peep song with fall out boy as a feature] I've Got a Dark Alley and a Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song) I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers Immortals Irresistible It's Hard to Say 'I Do', When I Don't It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love Jet Pack Blues Just One Yesterday Lake Effect Kid (song) Lake Shore Drive [this is a song patrick covered on the piano at wrigley, first night of tourdust] Love from the Other Side Love Will Tear Us Apart Love, Selfish Love* Love, Sex, Death Lullabye Mad at Nothing* Miss Missing You Moving Pictures My Heart Is the Worst Kind of Weapon My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) New Dreams [this is a bonus track on pax am days, a naked rayguns cover] Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner Novocaine Of All the Gin Joints in All the World One of Those Nights [another song from the cab's whisper war. this one has patrick doing vocals very prominently] Open Happiness [this was a huge collaborative piece done for a coca cola commercial. patrick was on it along with big names like cee lo green, janelle monae, and labelmates travie mccoy and brendon urie] Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued Parker Lewis Can't Lose (But I'm Gonna Give It My Best Shot) Past Life [llamania ep] Pavlove People Never Done a Good Thing* Porcelain* Pretty in Punk Rat a Tat Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over Roxanne Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)* San Diego [this is a blink-182 song that patrick did some writing for] Saturday Saturday Night Again* Save Rock and Roll (song) Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here) She's My Winona Short, Fast, and Loud Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers So Good Right Now So Much (For) Stardust (song) So Sick [this is a song patrick has exclusively covered live, so it's a fascinating inclusion] Sober [another blink-182 song patrick did some writing for] Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year Star 67 Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea Sugar, We're Goin Down Summer Days (song) [this is a martin garrix song patrick lent some vocals to] Sunshine Riptide Super Fade Switchblades and Infidelity Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today The "I" In Lie* The (After) Life of the Party The (Shipped) Gold Standard The Carpal Tunnel of Love The Kids Aren't Alright The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years) The Last of the Real Ones The Mighty Fall The Music or the Misery The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes The Phoenix The Pink Seashell The Pros and Cons of Breathing The Take Over, the Breaks Over The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys in a Broken Down Van) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race This City* Thnks fr th Mmrs (song) [for some reason the site specifies song here, despite that not being necessary. the only other times this distinction is relevant is when songs share a title with their albums, i.e. save rock and roll] Thriller Tiffany Blews Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) Uma Thurman Untitled 1 (Colorado Song) Untitled 2 (Jakus Song) [both of these are recently released tttyg era demos] W.A.M.S. We Didn't Start the Fire We Don’t Take Hits, We Write Them [this is a song that famously was only ever performed live. we don't have a studio recording or even a demo, as only live versions exist] We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead) West Coast Smoker What a Catch, Donnie What a Time To Be Alive What's This? When I Made You Cry* Where Did the Party Go Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) Wrong Side of Paradise [llamania ep] XO You're Crashing, But You're No Wave Young and Menace Young Volcanoes Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

in conclusion i have no idea who compiled this list. it doesn't include every song patrick and pete have ever touched (notice the lack of gym class heroes, cobra starship, and hush sound discography) but it has a really weird selection of songs. i mean, blink songs patrick wrote on?? its bizarre.

anyway do you think if we mass request swing me by the rafters they'll have to do it

#fall out boy #tourdust #*making poasts #trying to format this conventionally BROKE THE POST so i did my best #i burned my grilt cheese typing all this up pls appreciate it #the weird break in the middle is cause otherwise it wouldnt post. mea culpa.

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pumpkinpaix · 5 months ago

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Chapter Spotlight 5:

"Allegations of Chinoiserie: Gu(o)feng, Authenticity, and (Self-)Orientalization in Chen Qing Ling and Its Companion Album" by 墨客hunxi

Describe your topic/chapter in one sentence/one meme/140 characters.

Surprisingly absolutely no one whatsoever, I spend 4k+ words getting way too deep in the weeds regarding the translation choice of one (1) word. Now with bilingual footnotes in Chicago style!

What drew you to this topic?

I got distracted while working on translations of the CQL companion album back in the day and decided to make it everyone's problem.

Who's your favorite character?

How dare you try to make me choose between Lan Xichen and Xiao Xingchen!!!

Favorite line from the text?

To this day, I still really love the first line from the chorus of 《无羁》 Wuji:

煮一壶生死悲欢 / Warm a vintage of life and death, sorrows and joy 祭少年郎 / to commemorate the young men who have passed

Particular shout-out to the lyricist, 冥凰 Ming Huang — now that I've spent a little more time splashing about on the shallow end of Chinese internet fandom, I'm getting a better handle on which lyricists are out for blood.

Hey, so what's this gu(o)feng business?

Aha! Gu(o)feng is my terrible bastardization/smooshing-together of the terms 古风 gufeng and 国风 guofeng (lit. "ancient style" and "national style"). They are two contemporary Chinese music genres that intersect precisely at the confluence of authenticity and aestheticization, tradition and reception, fan production and original work, electric guitar and guzheng and suona and dizi. I can't get too far into it without really getting into it, so instead I will leave you with some links:

《倾尽天下》 by 河图

《琴师》 by 音频怪物

《风花雪月》 by 紫堂宿、林斜阳

《卷珠帘》 by 霍尊

《无约而来》 by 远皓zil、默默

《山外》 by 张远

You can find hunxi here on Tumblr @hunxi-guilai.

(FAQ) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)

#MDZS #CQL #The Untamed #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Catching Chen Qing Ling #CQL academic collection #CQL CFP #Chen Qing Ling #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL meta #MDZS meta

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 11 months ago

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Great! Can you please write an older Eddie with female reader, like maybe 25-26? And by now Eddie is a famous rock star, but he adores you, avoids groupies altogether. But when you and him go back to Hawkins to play at the Hideout just for fun Chrissy (or some other cheerleader) make moves on him, telling reader (maybe in the bathroom) "he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running).

But then maybe Eddie proposes to reader on stage? :) request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst to fluff, this is an 18+ blog so mdni.

❤️

Eddie made it big after he left Hawkins. A few years after he finally graduated and went to Chicago with the rest of Corroded Coffin, they were notified by a bigwig music producer who thought they had a real shot at being successful.

They grafted for another few years after that and after a lot of hard work, they began to get noticed. Did more gigs, got lots of exposure and recorded their first successful album.

Four albums, and four tours (one world tour) later, Eddie couldn't believe that his dreams of being a rockstar had come true.

Even with his dreams coming true, the most amazing thing to happen to him in the last few years was meeting you.

He ran into you after being chased by a handful of his fans (seeking shelter in a bookstore that you owned) that the two of you got closer and began to date.

You were younger than Eddie (26 to Eddie's 38) he was worried when you first began dating at the media attention the two of you would get. Anyone he got close to was the subject of scrutiny but you got it worse.

Eddie protected you as much as he could, put out statements in anger when the vitirol had you in tears and stressed to the max. He loved you so much and would do anything to protect you from hate.

Groupies tried and failed to catch his attention, he was a one woman man and all he wanted was you. Most of the time he loved getting you to join him on tour, but it depended on your job. When you weren't with him, he missed you like crazy.

Now he was going to Hawkins for one a one off concert at The Hideout. He couldn't wait to see his uncle and his friends. You and Eddie could catch up with everyone.

Most importantly though he was planning something very special for you and he wanted to do it surrounded with friends and family.

It would be cool to perform here in Hawkins after all this time. He couldn't wait to get the gig started.

❤️

Watching Corroded Coffin perform at the place they started out is an amazing experience, Eddie and the guys look like they are having so much fun and fans have travelled from different cities to watch the band.

You chat to Steve and the rest of the gang and feel so proud as you watch Eddie. He was in his element and looked so sexy as he shredded on his guitar, desire pools in your stomach. You couldn't wait to get him alone later.

He catches your eye, notices the way you're looking at him, winks and blows you a kiss.

The crowd is electric even once the gig finishes, everyone is cheering and going wild. Eddie jumps off the stage, walks over to you and kisses you, you feel your cheeks warm. He presses a kiss to your head then begins to interact with the crowd.

As soon as Eddie begins to mingle with the rest of the people in the Hideout, it wasn't long before a pretty blonde makes herself known.

You don't notice her at first as you're too busy catching up with the rest of the gang, then you wonder where Eddie has got to and after a quick look around the room, you find him.

He's with the blonde, she's heavily flirting. Touching his arm, giggling and playing with her hair, she's actually batting her eyes at him. You're used to groupies throwing themselves at Eddie but it still makes you feel a little shitty when you have to witness it.

Eddie looks uncomfortable when she ramps up the flirting and he makes a hasty retreat not quick enough though as she is practically purring at him to come back soon. Steve tells you she's called Chrissy.

Fuming at her blatant disregard for Eddie's feelings you follow her as she heads to the bathroom, She looks at you like you're dirt on her shoe, when you approach her.

"Yes?" you roll your eyes at the bitchy antics, fuck what was this high school? Memories from Hawkins High flood back and it makes you even more pissed. Who did this woman think she was?

"Hi, I'd appreciate it if you backed off from Eddie, your flirting was making him uncomfortable" you try to keep your cool, however the smug smile on her face is needling at you.

She snorts, flips her hair over her shoulder and moves closer to you.

"Oh please, sweetie he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running" Chrissy smirks and you feel your stomach bottom out. Was this true?

Was she right? Would you lose Eddie to some old high school crush? Chrissy turns away from you and reapplies her lipstick which is cherry red, you leave the bathroom with the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

Chrissy looks triumphant as she comes out, you feel like you can't breathe and stirrings of panic and anxiety begin to take over you.

She turns to her friends and looks so smug. "Guaranteed he'll dump her, when I show even a hint of interest. He could do so much better"

Gareth is close to all of you, chatting to his girlfriend when he hears the comment Chrissy made.

The look on your face tugs at his heart. Eddie was so in love with you, no Chrissy Cunningham's were going to change that. Still, he doesn't like how Chrissy is speaking to you (Eddie won't either) and he excuses himself from Alicia for a moment to inform Eddie what's going on.

Eddie glares over at Chrissy, who preens at his attention. "In love with her in high school? Is she for fucking real? I was in love with about half the class at one point? She's not special" Eddie snorts.

As for dumping you for Chrissy? That he could do better than you? As if. She was deluded if she thought that. He'd tell her that if he had to. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.

Gareth looks amused and discreetly slips Eddie his surprise for you. "Good luck man" Eddie nods, nerves crawling through his veins.

Fuck after all the planning this was it. He heads up on stage, takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "Hi, can I have everyone's attention please"

You notice that Eddie is up on the stage and wonder what he's doing. What aren't the rest of the band with him? To your surprise he calls on you to join him.

"I wanted to do this here, surrounded by my family and friends, I've been planning a surprise and I hope you like it sweetheart" you feel yourself grow flustered but very very happy.

What was he planning? There's this part of you that thinks he may be going to propose, the thought of him doing it nearly brings tears to your eyes but you will them away. It could be anything, you mustn't get your hopes up too much.

You'd love to marry Eddie, spend the rest of your life with him, but Eddie had taken a long time to come around to the idea of marriage, would he want that now?

He takes your hand and kisses it tenderly, pulls off one of his rings and places it on your ring finger, your heart begins to race as you realise the dream you have, may be coming true.

"Eddie?" you can barely get the words out and his eyes are all big and shiny as he gazes at you with pure love in his expression.

"I love you so much princess, you're all I'll ever want and need. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" He gets down on one knee and smiles, reaches in his pocket and pulls out a velvet red box, inside is the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

You're sobbing freely now, elated and throw your arms around Eddie. "Yes!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and you see the smug smile wiped off Chrissy's face. Eddie places the ring on your finger and kisses you, tenderly cupping your face in his hands.

Chrissy scoffs and leaves, throwing you and Eddie a bitchy look as she does. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Charming huh?" You stifle a giggle and he softens.

"Hey, Gareth told me what Chrissy said sweetheart. Fuck, she was a stupid crush in high school that vanished quickly because she's a complete bitch. You never have to worry about that" you smile and cuddle into him.

You kiss him again and look at the beautiful ring on your finger, you can't wait for you and Eddie to start your new adventure.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #older eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

Note

Living for conspiracy Steve. You know if they tried anything Joan the Disservice cat would be on the case. You also know Diane clocked it during her looky loo walks and she’s got tea. An alliance is forming.

What’s funny about Steve’s paranoia with the electric company van parked outside is that it’s definitely just the electric company.

If SoMeBoDy would just listen to reason then maybe they might remember the bad weather they’ve been having. They live in a suburb just outside of Chicago. It’s windy and wind messes with powerlines, but Steve isn’t dumb. Thank you very much.

He knows that.

Just like he knows what logo Mike said was on the van that El flipped. And like he said, “It’s spycraft 101. Of course, they’re here after a storm. It’s inconspicuous.”

“Big word,” Eddie replies appreciatively. “How do you know that?”

“I took the SATs?”

“Now the word! Why do you think that they’re tapping our phones?”

“It’s in all the movies, Eddie.”

There’s an unspoken duh tacked on to the end of Steve’s sentence and Eddie kinda loves it. He kinda loves how confident Steve is when he’s convinced himself this shit is real and a little part of Eddie wants to play along, but he knows how quickly it can all go bad so, “Baby, please. Stevie, what are they tapping into? We don’t have a landline.”

Steve pauses to think and then peaks back out through the blinds. He mutters, “You don’t know how wiretaps work?”

“Do you?”

Steve just purses his lips and looks even harder out the window which is just Steve-speak for ‘no, actually. I don’t know how wiretaps works because no one does.’ It makes Eddie grin, sliding up behind him and whispering in his ear, “Don’t you think one of our half dozen nosy neighbors would’ve told us if someone was spying on us?”

“Not if-“

“Baby, Diane came over twice last week because she saw a suspicious car in our driveway,” Eddie hums. “It was our car, Steve.”

Steve relaxes back against his chest a little but he knows the battle is not yet won so, Eddie adds, “Sweetheart, think about it. They’d know.”

“That’s true,” Steve relents just a little and then says, “Unless one of our neighbors is a spy.”

“No, baby.”

“Like a nosy neighbor that’s always in our business,” Steve continues, building confidence. “And who has always been in our business ever since we moved in…and who is talking to the electric company people right now.”

Eddie looks out through the peak in the blinds Steve is making and watches as Diane makes her way down her driveway in her pink house shoes, waving at the man halfway up the telephone pole. She calls something up at him but they’re too far away to hear it.

He can feel Steve pull away and Eddie thinks, damn it.

“Well, that friendship was good while it lasted.”

#meanwhile Eddie has like three restraining orders out against people for stalking #but thinks the idea of the government spying on them is too crazy even though one of their best friends can move stuff with her mind #I love when characters are one hundred percent correct but in the wrong direction #it reminds me of this umbrella academy AU I was writing where Five unrolls a conspiracy theory correctly but then accuses #Diego of being a part of it which is wrong even if he had really good points about it #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

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noellawrites · 2 years ago

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Not Much of a Life - Yandere!Carmy Berzatto x reader

summary: on the run from your small town, you find a job waitressing at the newly reopened restaurant, The Bear. but you have no idea what's in store when the owner develops an obsession with you.

warnings: rape, breeding kink, stalking, obsession, domestic violence mention.

Armed with coffee in one hand and red-circled newspaper in the other, you made your way down Orleans Street. Right now, your mission was to check out two job listings: a vacuum store and a vape store. Online, they both looked a bit shabby, but you couldn’t be too picky.

As you looked around, a half-constructed storefront caught your eye. Even with the letters taken down, you could see the sun-bleached remnants on the sign: The Original Beef of Chicagoland.

Cupping your eyes, you stared through the glass. Two white men, one around your age and one a few decades older, argued as they worked together to move a countertop.

A girl around your age with long locs tied in a bandana stood on a ladder, laughing at the men as she painted over the dirty white walls.

You could see a flurry of activity in the kitchen, too. It looked like about ten people were working on various building and electrical pursuits in order to revamp The Beef.

Without a second thought, you banged on the glass and caught the attention of the two arguing men.

The older one with facial hair swung the door open, almost hitting you.

"Uh, hello! I saw you guys were working in here and I was wondering if you might be hiring?" you asked sheepishly, as the man frowned at you.

"No, sorry sweetheart," he said, pulling the door closed.

"Jesus, cousin, don't be an asshole," the other guy, with lots of tattoos and piercing blue eyes, said as he grabbed the door.

"You got any experience?"

"I waited tables in high school, I can make coffee and cook some basic stuff," you offered.

"We need a waitress. Come back next Saturday, we'll be getting ready to open. You got a phone?" He said all in one breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, here," you said, handing your phone to the man as he entered in his contact information.

"My schedule's open, I can basically work anytime. I could really use the money," you explained.

"Good, 'cause I'm sure as hell not lettin' Richie wait on customers anymore," he said, earning a "hey!" from the older man.

"Thank you--" you began, looking down at your phone as he handed it back to you, "Carmy. My name's (y/n), it's nice to meet you." You said, outstretching your hand to shake.

The moment your hands touched, you felt a jolt, almost like a spark. "I'll see you in a week," Carmy said, as you stared into his gorgeously blue eyes.

You nodded, stepping back and walking towards the L stop.

Carmy Berzatto had never felt like this, ever. He was always too busy to fall in love, moving from one thing to the next, perfecting his art, running the restaurant. Instead, he told himself he was perfectly fine with jerking off to meaningless porn on the nights he felt a little lonely. But that night, his mind was preoccupied with something entirely different: you.

He practically counted down the hours until you returned for your first day, the day before the grand opening of The Bear.

He found the perfect uniform for you at Goodwill. A professional dress in the same dark blue as the kitchen's aprons. It was the right size but he asked Sugar to hem it anyway, selfishly wanting to see the skin of your thighs as you carried out your duties.

Once you put the dress on, you grinned and threw your arms around Carmy, telling him how much you loved it and couldn't wait to get to work.

At family meal, you learned about the employees' lives and they asked about yours. You confessed that you were currently sleeping on your friend's couch in her apartment downtown. You'd recently moved from a small Midwestern town, wanting to experience life in the city. Your money was running low, and it had been difficult to find a job in Chicago post-covid. But nonetheless, you were excited to be there.

You felt everyone's eyes on you, analyzing your words and behavior. You'd obviously been pulled in by the glamour of city life, but hadn't been ready for reality's smack in the face.

The first few months of work had lulled you into a routine. Wake up, get dressed, run to the L train, ride it to the east side, walk to The Bear, all while it was still pitch-black outside. In the evenings, you did it all again, sometimes stopping at a bar before heading back to your friend's apartment.

You'd just been approved for your own place, a cheap studio apartment in an area close to The Bear. You really did love your job, despite Carmy acting a bit odd towards you. You figured he was still adjusting to managing the restaurant.

You had no idea that you'd slowly consumed Carmy Berzatto's thoughts, his life, his very being.

His every waking moment was filled with thoughts of you. You, pulling your dress off for him. Stomach round from his seed, a new maternity dress, waiting tables while heavily pregnant. Raising his children, taking them to their Aunt Sugar's. Pinning you against the wall, screaming at you. Punching the drywall beside you, making you flinch. Tears running down your face as he takes what belongs to him. You didn't have much of a life anyways. A couch-surfing runaway with drugstore makeup and hair filled with dry shampoo. You only had a life because of his generosity.

Your first date with Carmy was at a bar down the street. It was after work but you'd both lied about it, not wanting everyone to know you both shit where you ate.

You didn't even make it to the bar, just to the alley next to it. The stench of garbage filled your nostrils as Carmy unbuckled his pants and unzipped his fly.

You started to protest but Carmy clamped a hand over your mouth as he fished his dick out of his underwear.

"I've wanted this since the day I met you. God, I can't believe I waited this long. Cousin told me I had to take what I fuckin' want, ‘n you're mine now.”

You tried to scream and push Carmy away, eyes wide with fear. Carmy stuffed his fingers in your mouth, pressing harder and effectively muffling you.

You choked on his fingers at the back of your throat as his penis entered your vagina with a violent push. It was one of the most painful things you'd ever experienced, and you were paralyzed with fear.

You could see the outline of his muscles and the tattoos on his arms as he jerked into you, violating you with every push. Tears clouded your eyes and you prayed that he would stop soon. Your stomach tightened with fear and unwilling pleasure as Carmy released inside of you with a groan. You came soon after, whimpering on his fingers in your mouth as you shuddered in pleasure.

"I knew you wanted me. Without me, you'd be on the fucking streets," he snarled into your ear in a cruel tone you'd never heard before.

You had seeped into the cracks between Carmy's nightmares from New York, filling his head with softness and pleasure. He couldn't just dream about you anymore, he needed the real thing. And now, you didn't have much of a choice.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #yandere the bear #yandere carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #lip gallagher x reader #yandere lip gallagher #lip gallagher

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scoobydoofenshmirtz · 1 month ago

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My 2024 Art Year in Review

Dean and Cas in Philly (DCRB 2024)

Pink Pony Dean

Destiel Chicago Bar (DCBB 2024)

Rowena alternate costume

Raphael electric wings

Under the moonlight

Destiel Greek pottery

Chappellween Dean

Dracula!Dean

Mark of Cain movie poster

Family Business

Lazarus Rising colored pencil sketch

Cas in the Empty

Destiel critter birthday card

Lego Destiel

Destiel Enchanted

Scoobynatural colored pencil

#fanart #my art #destiel #supernatural #spn #year in review

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exitmusicforastory · 1 month ago

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Conventional Weapons: Chapter Two

CHICAGO, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

PRESENT DAY

The man on the floor cringes as Markus raises his fist. He’s not a small man, but lying there, helpless, he looks positively miniscule. His rumpled grey business suit is stained with the blood that leaks from his mouth. He wipes his nose on his sleeve, leaving a trail of snot and blood that makes Markus’s lip curl in disgust. He’s pathetic. For a man with so much criminal power, he is pretty damn weak.

“Where are the rest of the drugs going, Lucio?” Markus snarls, leaning down, and grabbing the back of the man’s neck. He looks his captive dead in the eyes and holds the mob boss's face closer, his very gaze a threat.

“I- I dunno! I swear! I just ship ‘em, I don’t push ‘em!” Markus rolls his eyes and looks around the ornate downtown apartment. The room is furnished with expensive modern decor, but the ensuing altercation had overturned several chairs, and shattered the glass coffee table in the center of the space. Markus relinquishes his grip on the man’s neck and takes a few steps away, his tactical boots crunching on the shards of broken glass that litter the Persian rug. He turns his head, seeing a fuse box nearby. He smirks to himself and turns back to Lucio. The man scrambles back, pieces of glass digging into his palms, but Markus lunges forward and grabs him by the sweat-soaked collar of his white linen shirt.

“P-please,” he says, “I dunno anything! I swear!” Markus backhands him across the face, his leather-gloved hand leaving an angry red mark, before dragging him toward the fuse box.

“You know how much electricity it takes to keep the lights in here on? A fancy Chicago penthouse like this?” Markus asks as he shoves Lucio’s back against a wall. The coward winces from the impact and stutters a reply.

“I dunno, like… a couple hundred watts? I ain’t no electrician!” Lucio responds. Markus smirks and kicks the fuse box open, exposing electrical components, copper wires gleaming in the dim lighting.

“My guess is at least 50,000 volts. Wanna see who’s right?” he asks, before shoving Lucio to the ground and holding his face closer to the jagged wires.

“I ain’t spillin’!” Lucio shouts, attempting defiance, but Markus simply smirks and presses the man's face closer.

“You know why electrocution is so painful, Lucio?” Markus asks, applying more pressure onto Lucio’s back.

“You see, electricity tends to really like water-based things, and as you would remember if you graduated the 5th grade, your body is over 70% water. So all the electricity coursing through this building would course through your face and then to your chest, overloading your heart and respiratory system until they pop like water balloons. And you’ll slowly melt from the inside out as your guts turn into a disgusting mush.” Markus smiles grimly beneath the bandana that conceals his visage, before pushing Lucio even closer.

“Fine! Fine! They’re going to the east side! A deal is happening in a warehouse by the docks!” The man squirms against Markus’s grip, his breathing picking up, and his voice on the brink of tears. Markus smirks and pulls Lucio away from the breaker.

“See? Was that really so difficult?” he asks, before punching Lucio in the face, knocking him out cold. Markus lets his opponent’s body fall to the floor, landing in a heap on the expensive carpet. He looks down at the man, hatred bubbling in his blood. Dante Lucio is the leader of Chicago’s largest drug cartel. Under his supervision, over 13000 kilos of narcotics have been shipped to various locations around the globe. Over the past two decades, Lucio has accumulated millions of dollars, and hundreds of friends in high places. He’s spent his fortune and influence on owning close to eighty-five percent of all of the city’s nightclubs, bribing various high-profile government officials, and buying as many prostitutes as he can get his filthy hands on. He’s about as disgusting of a slimeball as Markus can imagine.

The masked man’s gloved hand strays to his tactical belt, his fingers closing around the handle to his sidearm. He shakes his head and releases it. Despite the vile nature of the man, he’s not worth killing. That is a punishment that Markus has always tried to avoid at all costs, both for legality’s sake, and from a moral standpoint. He can’t stand those who kill senselessly. His threats to his captive might be terrifyingly realistic, but they were empty. Lucio might be a scumbag, but he’s human nonetheless, and Markus Sauber is far from heartless. Instead, he moves his hand to his leather tactical vest and reaches into one of the pockets, pulling out a pen. He crosses the room, stopping at a carved wooden side table. Upon the gleaming mahogany surface lies a stationary monogrammed with Dante Lucio’s name in ornate script. Markus picks up the notepad and clicks the pen. Quickly and efficiently, he transcribes the names of every known associate of Lucio’s. Taking down one rat king was easy, but he intended to burn the whole nest. He replaces the stationary on the table and walks back over to Lucio. Pulling handcuffs out of his vest pocket, he bends down, attaching one cuff to Lucio’s plump wrist, and the other to the arm of the expensive mahogany and leather sofa. Markus rises from his crouched position and takes a last look around the room. The destruction is pretty severe, probably over a thousand dollars in property damage. Due to both this and the likely heavy bail, Lucio is going to have an expensive week. Good. The bastard deserves it. Markus smiles grimly, adjusting the fabric over the lower half of his face. Picking up a black leather jacket, he crosses the room, reaching a set of open French doors leading to a balcony. He pulls on his jacket, effectively concealing his tactical gear, and exits the way he entered. Lucio really needs an upgrade for his home security. The illuminated Chicago skyline is hauntingly beautiful against the midnight sky. Markus stands there for a moment, lost in the view, before crossing the balcony and entering the fire escape. He descends, trying to minimize the creaking and clattering of the metal ladder beneath him. When he reaches the end, he jumps down from the ladder, his boots landing soundlessly on the cracked asphalt.

He looks around the alleyway, taking in the graffiti on the walls, the overflowing dumpsters, and the overall aura of uncleanliness. Amazing, really, that all of this filth was directly beneath one of the most affluent apartment buildings in the entire city. An entire shadowy world hidden beneath a glittering facade. He exits the alleyway, turning onto a surprisingly empty street. He pulls the bandana down from his face and walks down the sidewalk a little ways, passing only a few pedestrians. The sounds of passing cars mix with the loud music that blares from one of Lucio’s nearby nightclubs. He reaches a bus stop and pauses there, leaning against the exterior of the plastic shelter. As he waits, his thoughts stray. Looking at him then, with his tactical gear concealed under a bomber jacket, and a small bruise on his cheek the only souvenir of his earlier altercation, it was nearly impossible to guess that this tall, silent, dark-haired man spent his evenings exacting vigilante justice on Chicago’s most deserving criminals.

Markus clenches his fist within his leather glove and stares down at the pavement. He recalls a similar night, many years prior, where he had also stood at an empty bus stop, on an empty street, with a much worse bruise on his cheek. He had cried that night, but he was much younger then. Young and broken and scared. He remembered collapsing on the bench of the bus stop, hoping someone would stop and help the small, sobbing boy. But nobody did. That was the last time Markus Sauber had ever relied on another person. Every day since, throughout every new foster home, every new school, he had been careful not to grow too attached to any one person. He knew that could only end in further heartbreak. This turned him from a broken child to a troubled, lonely teen, to a dark, even lonelier man with no connections, no friends, and no real home.

In the distance, Markus hears the roar of the approaching 1:15 AM bus, and looks up, his thoughts disrupted. The headlights temporarily blind him, and he holds up a hand to shield his dark eyes. As the bus slows to a stop, he straightens, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a teal plastic Chicago bus pass. The doors open, letting out a hiss as the mechanism releases. Markus boards the bus, holding out the pass for the driver to scan. She’s a middle aged woman with poofy platinum blonde hair, a dumpy frame, and a halo of cigarette smoke. Markus holds his breath as he passes her. The late hour leaves the bus slightly less crowded than usual, so Markus is able to find a seat in the back. None of his fellow passengers spare him a second glance. Good. He can’t take any more questions tonight. The moment he sinks into the crappy plastic seat, exhaustion hits him like brass knuckles. He rests his forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes and blocking out the sounds of the traffic around him.

He jolts awake as the bus slows to a stop. Shaking the fog from his head, he looks at the overhead screen, silently chiding himself for falling asleep. He lets out a sigh of relief to see that he is still three stops away from his street. He straightens and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The bus is nearly empty now, only a few passengers, all of whom are glued to their cellphones. Markus takes out his own phone and glances at the screen. He’s learned not to expect messages- who would they be from- but he hopes for an alert from one of the crime watch forums or news outlets he follows religiously. No luck. Only a blank screen greets him. He sighs and turns his gaze to the window, taking in the view of the city as he passes. The bus has long since exited the nice part of town, and now traverses a much less desirable, much more familiar area. In the daylight, every crack shows through, but now, at night, the dark washes the city clean, hiding the imperfections. It’s beautiful and almost comforting. He rises as the bus stops again, walking down the aisle and entering the night. He crosses the street, the building in which he lives coming into view. It’s by no means a nice building, but it’s also far from the worst on the street. He enters the dimly lit lobby of his apartment complex, completely empty due to the late hour. A single dried up fern in a cracked clay pot resting on a rickety wooden table is the only furnishing in the space. He crosses the room, stopping in front of a single pair of elevator doors. His reflection in the smudged metal makes him wince. He’s always despised his appearance with a passion. There’s too much of his father in his face, and he fears that they share not only the dark hair and eyes, but also the dark temper. For this reason, he hasn’t touched a bottle since he was sixteen. He knows the danger of inhibition.

The elevator doors open, and Markus steps inside, jamming his finger on the button for the seventh floor. He stands there in silence, ruminating on his thoughts before the doors slide open, revealing the corridor that leads to his home. It’s even dimmer than the lobby due to a broken light fixture that was never repaired. He plods down the hallway, passing door after silent door. Only one has any sound behind it- the blaring noise of late-night television. He walks quickly past it, reaching the final door at the end of the hallway. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulls a key from an interior pocket. The gloves hinder him, so he removes them, stowing them away in his jacket before fumbling the key into the lock. The familiar sound of the door clicking open relaxes him, but the second he steps forward into his apartment, he tenses up again. Something is wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, but his senses are tingling. His instincts are on fire, and they’ve never been wrong before. He rests his hand on the handle of his gun, pulling it out of the holster and flipping the safety off. He looks around the dark entryway, seeing that everything in the short, narrow hallway leading to the kitchen is in its proper place. He notices no visible signs of disturbance, but inwardly he knows that something is out of sorts. He ventures further into his apartment, his unease growing with each step. Holding his firearm out in front of him defensively, he finds himself in his small yet tidy kitchen. Everything looks as normal as he left it. Everything, except the man in the business suit.

The man stands directly in the center of the room. He is shorter than Markus, well built, with wiry grey hair trimmed short and neat. His eyes are also grey; they are the coldest, most piercing eyes Markus has ever seen. They look as if they could cut straight through steel, or to Markus’s very soul. Those eyes freeze him in place, making him feel like the intruder in his own home. He hasn’t felt this intimidated since he was eight years old. He feels his hands instinctively begin to lower the gun and he has to force himself to keep it steady. It’s only then that he realizes the source of his panic. Something about the man’s demeanor reminds Markus of his father. The man’s lined iron face twists into a harsh smile.

“Welcome, Mr. Sauber.”

“Who are you,” Markus asks, his voice shockingly robust for the amount of uncertainty he feels.

“I’m Agent Nicolas Mason from the Central Intelligence Agency. I’m here to offer you a job.”

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from-memphis-with-love · 10 months ago

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Songbird - Ch. 2 - Echoes of Stardust

Summary: After a disheartening audition failure, Valerie Pedretti finds herself in a Las Vegas bar, nursing her first-ever alcoholic drink and wallowing in self-pity. The night takes an unexpected turn when she's noticed by Elvis Presley's right-hand man and whisked away to a private party hosted by the man himself.

Word count: ~4,000 Warnings: Alcohol consumption, implied infidelity, mild sexual content.

I slumped onto a crimson velvet barstool, elbows thudding against the lucite armrests. After that disastrous audition for Frank Sinatra's chorus line, all I wanted was to crawl into the nearest hole and disappear. Figures I'd royally screw up my one shot at making it big. Typical Valerie luck.

The bartender, a suave older gentleman in a crisp white jacket, glided over. "What'll it be, miss?"

"Gin and tonic. Make it a double," I muttered, massaging my throbbing temples. What was I even saying? I never so much as drank a lick of alcohol in my life, but I figured it was as good a time as any to start. God knows I needed something stiff to dull the sting of rejection.

As he busied himself, I replayed the audition in my head. My usually reliable pipes had been shakier than a newborn foal, and I'd flubbed the steps. The smirks from the other hopefuls had said it all–I was way out of my league. Some nobody from Chicago, trying to rub elbows with seasoned Vegas performers? I must've been out of my mind.

The clink of glass snapped me out of my reverie. I snatched up the drink and took a hefty swig, wincing at the biting fizz. Awful. But at least the hotel bar had booze heavy enough to give me a buzz, even if this trip was turning into a spectacular failure.

I was about to take another sip when a shock of ginger hair caught my eye across the room. It couldn't be… but there was no mistaking that towering build. Red, Elvis Presley's right-hand man himself, larger than life and heading straight towards me.

"Well I'll be damned," he boomed. "If it ain't that pretty little songbird from the elevator."

I nearly spewed my drink. He remembered me? More importantly, he remembered that ludicrous pet name Elvis had bestowed upon me?

"Uh, hi there," I stammered. "Fancy seeing you again."

Red just chuckled. "You clean up real nice. Mr. Burrows know you're here drowning those sorrows all by your lonesome?"

My cheeks flushed at the mention of him. Truth be told, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about our electric encounter. The velvety timbre of his voice, the scorching intensity of his gaze, the way his presence made the air hum... it was enough to make a girl go weak in the knees. But I sure as hell wasn't about to admit that to Red.

"Oh, I'm sure he has more important things to worry about than little old me," I said breezily. "I was just about to call it a night."

"That so?" Red's grin turned sly. "Well, it just so happens the boss is having a little private soirée up in his suite right about now. What do you say we head up there and turn that frown upside down?"

My heart seized. An invitation to Elvis's inner sanctum? It was an unbelievable stroke of luck. Or a supremely bad idea. Probably both. I gnawed my lip, trying to quell the dizzying swirl of anticipation and trepidation.

On one hand, the chance to spend more time basking in Elvis's orbit was tempting as all get-out. I could feel that dangerous pull, the siren song of his star power luring me in. But on the other hand, the man was married and a known womanizer—the last thing I needed was to get tangled up in that mess, no matter how electrifying his smile.

Red cocked a brow at my dithering. "Clock's ticking, honey. You in or out?"

Oh, what the hell. Throwing caution to the wind had always been a specialty of mine, and it wasn't like this night could get worse. I tossed back my drink and wobbled to my feet.

"Lead the way, Red. Let's see what the fuss is about."

His smirk said he'd sniffed out my burgeoning fascination with his boss, but I lifted my chin and sailed past. The die was cast, for better or worse. I was about to enter the point of no return.

The journey to Elvis's suite passed in a blur of nerves and Red's idle chitchat. I was only half-listening, too busy trying to calm the riot of butterflies in my stomach. What was I thinking, waltzing into Elvis's suite like some groupie? This was bound to end in disaster.

But it was too late to turn back. Red was already rapping on a mahogany door. I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for whatever lay on the other side.

The door swung open to reveal none other than Elvis himself, a vision with tousled midnight hair. His full lips curved into a heart-stopping smile when his molten gaze landed on me, sending a shiver of awareness skittering down my spine.

"Well well well," he drawled, his voice dark honey and sin. "Looks like Red went and rescued a little lost songbird."

I fought the urge to swoon right then and there, mentally cataloguing all the reasons why getting involved with Elvis was a terrible idea—starting with the wedding band gleaming on his finger.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Burrows," I somehow managed to say without squeaking. "I hope I'm not intruding."

He chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense, sweetheart. Any friend of Red's is a friend of mine. Come on in and make yourself at home."

He stepped back to allow me entry, his burning gaze never leaving my face. I could feel it like a physical caress as I crossed the threshold into the opulent suite, my skin prickling with goosebumps. Oh, I was in trouble all right. The kind of trouble a good girl had no business inviting.

The suite was unlike anything I'd ever seen—a palatial sprawl of crushed velvet and gleaming marble, dotted with larger-than-life portraits of religious iconography and pastorals. The irony of a bible placed in full view on a sideboard was not lost on my in the face of such decadence. Every bit of the place screamed “decorated by a rock star.” It was like stepping into a shrine to all the things Elvis loved. And the man himself was holding court right in the center of it all.

Elvis reclined on a throne-like armchair, looking every inch the royal in tight black slacks and a shimmering silk shirt unbuttoned to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of tanned chest, gleaming gold pendant trapped in a thicket of black chest hair. I gulped. A tumbler of amber liquid dangled from his elegant fingers as he nodded along to something a stunning blonde was cooing in his ear, her ample curves poured into a dress so short it was practically indecent.

I suddenly felt very small and very out of place, a sparrow amongst preening peacocks. What was a nobody like me doing in a place like this, rubbing elbows with music royalty? I didn't belong here. I was just about to mumble my excuses and bolt when another bombshell sidled up to Elvis, this one a sultry brunette with bedroom eyes and a dress slit up to there. With detached amusement, I decided to name her Colette. Colette the Brunette.

"Oh Elvis," she purred, trailing a perfectly manicured nail down his chest. "Won't you take me for a ride on your big... Cadillac later?"

I wanted to gag at her obviousness, but Elvis just chuckled indulgently. Like an emperor amused by his concubines.

"We'll see, darlin'. We'll see," he drawled, shooting her a wink that had her practically panting.

I tore my gaze away, my cheeks burning. Get a grip, Valerie, he's clearly in high demand. Time to face facts and get out while you have a shred of dignity left.

I was about to do that when a raspy voice caught my attention. "Hey there, little lady. You look like you could use a drink."

I turned to find a member of Elvis's Memphis Mafia grinning at me, a drink extended in offering. He had a friendly face, all dimples, and I found myself taking it just to have something to do with my hands.

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled, taking a fortifying sip. Whoo boy, that packed a punch. "I'm Valerie."

"Sonny West," he introduced himself with a wink. "Couldn't help but notice you looking a little lost over here. First time in the lion's den?"

"That obvious, huh?" I cracked a rueful smile. "I feel like a kid playing dress-up at the grown-ups' party."

Sonny chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder with a hand the size of a dinner plate. "Stick with me, then. I'll show you the ropes."

And just like that, I found myself swept up in the whirlwind of Elvis's inner circle. Sonny introduced me to the rest of the Memphis Mafia—Jerry, Lamar, and on and on until my head was spinning with names and faces. They were a rowdy bunch, all loud laughter and inside jokes, but they welcomed me heartily.

Before I knew it, I was deep in a heated debate with Lamar about the merits of biscuits versus pancakes for breakfast.

"Biscuits, hands down," I argued, waving my drink for emphasis. "Fluffy, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth heaven. Pancakes are just flat, boring discs."

"Blasphemy!" Lamar clutched his heart in mock outrage. His ample gut wiggled from the sudden movement. "Pancakes are the pinnacle of breakfast perfection. Stackable, customizable, drenched in syrup...what more could you want?"

"Y'all are both wrong," Jerry chimed in with a sly grin. "Waffles are where it's at. All those perfect little syrup traps? Unbeatable."

We dissolved into bickering, and I found myself having more fun than I'd had in ages. These boys were a hoot, and their easy camaraderie was infectious. For a little while, I could almost forget I was way out of my depth.

But reality came crashing back in the form of Elvis's chuckle cutting through the chatter. I looked over to see him still holding court, the blonde I named Miss Priss on one knee, Colette the Brunette draped over the other. They fawned all over him, batting lashes, and he ate it up with that slow smile. Something bitter twisted in my gut.

I knocked back my drink in one painful swallow. What was I doing here? Elvis had more than enough adoring females—he didn't need some starry-eyed idiot mooning over him. It was time to cut my losses and bow out. At least I would have a hell of a juicy story to tell Deena when I got home.

I was just about to make my excuses when the room hushed. I glanced up to find myself ensnared by devastating blue eyes. Elvis was coming right for me, his gaze hot and intent, and I felt pinned like a butterfly on a board.

"Valerie." Just my name, but the way he said it, all dark velvet and honeyed sin, made my knees turn to water. "C'mere, pretty girl. Let's you and me get better acquainted." Colette the Brunette sighed, exasperated, and got up from the chair.

I was moving before I even registered it, pulled in by the sheer magnetism of him. Miss Priss shot me poisonous glares as I approached, but Elvis never took his eyes off me. He crooked a finger, beckoning me closer, and I went as if in a trance, powerless to resist the siren song of his voice, his eyes, his everything. I’m fucked.

"Hi," I breathed when I was finally standing before him, close enough to catch the spicy-sweet scent of his cologne mingling with the citrusy notes of his Brylcreem. God, he was even more breathtaking up close, all chiseled features and smoldering charisma.

"Hi yourself." Elvis smiled slow as he looked me over, his gaze lingering in all the right places. "You know, I was hoping I'd see you again."

I briefly wondered if he said that to every starstruck girl he encountered, but the intensity in his eyes made me want to believe it. Dangerous, Valerie. Remember the ring on his finger. Do not fall for those honeyed words and bedroom eyes.Easier said than done.

He patted the space beside him. "Take a load off. Stay awhile."

I had a feeling he wasn't just talking about sitting. That look promised something far more intimate. A shiver traced my spine as I perched on the edge of the sofa, close but not touching.

"I don't usually do this," I blurted, my nerves getting the better of me. "Follow strange men to their suites. I'm not...that kind of girl."

Great, announce to everyone that you're out of your depth. Elvis would probably pat me on the head and send me on my way now.

But to my shock, his eyes softened with something almost like tenderness. "I know you're not, honey. Believe me, I know." He reached out, tucking a curl behind my ear with a gentleness that stole my breath.

I fought the urge to lean into his touch like a flower turning its face to the sun, desperate for more of that drugging warmth. "You don't even know me."

"Maybe not." Elvis's fingers drifted down, trailing along the racing pulse in my throat. "But I'd sure like to."

I'd been warned about men like him, all smooth words and smoldering eyes, tempting good girls to stray from the straight and narrow. But sitting there with his burning gaze consuming me whole, his fingertips branding my skin, I was powerless to resist the pull. Is this what I'd been missing this whole time?

I was Alice, tumbling headfirst down the rabbit hole. Pandora, unable to keep from opening that forbidden box. A fool blinded by stardust, sealing her fate with one trembling breath.

"I think," I whispered, damning myself with every word, "I'd like that too."

Elvis's smile was pure sin and satisfaction, a fallen angel getting exactly what he wanted. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear and making me shiver.

"Then let's get to know each other real well, Valerie. I have a feeling you and me are gonna make some beautiful music together."

With that promise shimmering between us, Elvis took my hand and led me deeper into his lair. And I, god help me, followed, come what may.

He guided me through the throng, his hand warm around mine. I could feel the weight of curious stares following us. But Elvis paid them no mind, his attention fixed on me as he brought us to a gleaming black piano.

"You play?" he asked, eyes glinting with challenge and something softer.

I ran my fingers along the smooth keys. "A little. My dad taught me before he passed."

Elvis's gaze gentled, understanding passing between us. "Music's in your blood. Like me."

He slid onto the bench, patting the space beside him. I hesitated a moment before joining him, our thighs pressing together. Elvis shot me a grin, his fingers flying over the keys in a jaunty tune.

"You know 'Heart and Soul'?"

A laugh bubbled out of me. "Who doesn't?"

We began to play, our hands moving together, the notes weaving in harmony. Softly at first, barely audible under the chatter, Elvis began to sing, his voice honey-smooth.

"Heart and soul, I fell in love with you..."

He glanced at me expectantly, a playful smile at the corner of his mouth. How could I resist? Taking a breath, I joined my voice with his.

"Heart and soul, the way a fool would do..."

Our voices blended together seamlessly. I could feel the room hushing around us, all eyes drawn to the spectacle. But lost in the melody and Elvis's presence, I couldn't bring myself to care.

We continued, the lyrics taking on new meaning as our gazes locked and the air grew thick.

"Madly... Because you held me tight..."

Elvis's eyes burned into mine, his voice lowering intimately.

"And stole a kiss in the night..."

My heart stuttered and my fingers faltered. Lord, the way he looked at me, like he wanted to devour me whole...

Elvis turned to me, our hands stilling. For a suspended moment we just stared, caught in the gravity of this thing spiraling between us. I felt flayed open, exposed, like he could see straight into me.

Carefully, he lifted a hand to brush my cheek, his skin igniting sparks against mine. "Valerie," he murmured, my name a caress.

I couldn't breathe past the band constricting my chest. The world narrowed to just us, charged with possibility. Elvis's eyes dropped to my parted lips, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I could feel the force of his desire, the effort it took to hold back.

"Elvis," I whispered, leaning closer like a moth to flame. Damn the consequences.

Colette suddenly appeared at Elvis's other side, plunking her glass down on the piano. She placed a manicured hand on his arm and attempted to draw his attention.

"Elvis, baby, I'm parched. Won't you fix me a drink?" she cooed, batting her lashes.

For a second I thought he might actually take the bait. I wouldn't blame any man for it, really. But to my shock, Elvis just smiled politely and gently extricated himself from her grasp.

"Not right now, darlin'. I'm a bit busy at the moment," he said, shooting a meaningful look my way.

Colette's pretty face twisted in an ugly scowl as she glared daggers at me. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under. But Elvis paid her no mind, already turning back to me with an apologetic quirk of his lips.

A thrill shot through me at the realization that he'd chosen my company over hers. That even surrounded by all these gorgeous, willing women, it was still me he wanted to talk to, to sing with. It was almost too heady to believe.

Leaning closer as if conspiring, Elvis murmured so only I could hear, "I gotta say, you sure know how to captivate a man's attention, songbird. Ain't too many gals out there who can tear me away from a pretty face batting her lashes my way."

I could practically hear the steam coming out of Colette's ears as she flounced off in a huff. I bit back a smile. "Well, what can I say? I have many hidden talents."

"That you do. That you most certainly do." Elvis's eyes smoldered as they raked over me appreciatively. "Now where were we?"

We picked up right where we'd left off, fingers dancing over the keys in tandem as we slipped back into the easy flow of the music. And just like that, as if no interruption had occurred, we were once again lost in our own private world, the chemistry between us crackling and undeniable.

As Elvis and I continued to play, lost in our own little world, I suddenly caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Glancing over, I spotted Red and Sonny, engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument.

Sonny was gesticulating wildly, his drink sloshing precariously in his hand, while Red stood with his arms crossed, shaking his head emphatically. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but their body language screamed "agitated."

I nudged Elvis gently with my elbow, nodding towards the pair. "Looks like trouble in paradise over there. What do you think they're arguing about?"

Elvis followed my gaze, a slow grin spreading over his face as he took in the scene. "Knowing those two? Could be anything. Whose turn it is to do the hamburger run, which one of 'em Nancy Sinatra liked best, who'd win in a fight between Godzilla and King Kong..."

I bit back a laugh. "My money's on Godzilla. Fire breath beats brute strength any day."

"See, I'd have to go with Kong," Elvis countered, his eyes sparkling. "He's got those opposable thumbs, that's a game changer."

We both turned back to watch Red and Sonny, who were now poking each other in the chest like a couple of overgrown schoolboys. Elvis leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear as he lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"Five bucks says Sonny throws his drink in the next minute."

I grinned, unable to resist the challenge in his tone. "You're on. I say Red puts him in a headlock first."

We shook on it, our hands lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Then we sat in eager anticipation, watching the drama unfold.

Suddenly, in a move straight out of a slapstick comedy, Sonny gestured so emphatically that his drink went flying... right into Red's face.

For a moment, everyone froze. Then Red let out a roar and lunged, grappling Sonny into a headlock as he flailed and sputtered.

Elvis and I took one look at each other and burst into hysterical laughter, clutching at each other as we gasped for breath. Tears streamed down my face as we hooted at the ridiculous scene, our shared mirth drawing curious glances from the rest of the party.

"I guess... we both win... that bet," Elvis managed to wheeze out between guffaws, his arm warm and solid around my shaking shoulders.

A throat clearing sharply behind us shattered the moment, sending us reeling apart like repelling magnets. I blinked dazedly, surfacing from the undertow of Elvis's gaze to find Lamar smirking down at us.

"Hate to interrupt you two, but the natives are getting restless." He jerked his head toward the crowd of partygoers, all watching us with avid, speculative eyes. "Big Man’s here, E." Kirk Kerkorian, the owner of the International Hotel, had made it up to the 29th floor to speak to his star headliner.

Elvis dragged a hand down his face, looking distinctly frustrated. "Duty calls, I suppose." He shot me an apologetic glance, his fingers giving mine a fleeting squeeze before he stood. "Don't go anywhere, alright? I'm not done with you yet."

A shiver chased through me at the dark promise in his tone. I could only nod wordlessly, my voice lodged somewhere in my throat, as he allowed himself to be pulled back into the fray.

I watched him work the room, all megawatt charisma and effortless star power. He was a master showman, born for the spotlight. At a certain point, a group of older women were let in and he graciously signed all of their memorabilia. But every so often, his gaze would cut back to me, heated and heavy with intent. A reminder that I was the true focus of his attention, even as he played to his adoring acolytes.

Overwhelmed and more than a little shaken by the intensity of our connection, I decided to take Elvis's absence as my cue to slip away. I needed some space to clear my head, to process the dizzying events of the night away from the intoxicating force of his presence.

As much as I wanted to stay, I knew this could turn out to be a very bad idea. Elvis Presley was about to ruin me. If I let myself fall any deeper under his spell, I might not be able to find my way back out. And with my heart and dreams on the line, that was a risk I couldn't afford to take.

So with a heavy heart and a longing glance over my shoulder, I quietly extracted myself from his view and made my way back to my room. I'd pack my bags, get some much-needed rest, and then pour my heart out to Deena once I was safely back home, far away from the magnetic pull of Elvis's charm. If nothing else, the past two days' events would make a hell of a story.

It was the smart choice, the safe choice. But as I walked away, each step heavy with regret, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was leaving something precious behind. A chance at something rare and wonderful, slipping like stardust through my fingers.

Keeping to the edges of the room, I managed to exit the suite without drawing attention to myself. The relative silence of the hotel hallway was a balm to my frayed nerves as I made my way to my own room. My hands were trembling as I fumbled with the key, my mind awhirl with Elvis's heated looks and the phantom sensation of his touch on my skin.

I'd barely gotten the door open when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Heart leaping into my throat, I whirled around. Only to come face to face with Joe Esposito, Elvis's right hand man.

"Valerie, wait!" He jogged up to me, slightly out of breath, his hand outstretched. "Boss man wanted me to give you this before you disappeared."

He pressed a small slip of paper into my palm. Glancing down, I saw it was a ticket… to Elvis's show tomorrow night. Front row seat, VIP access. I looked back up at Joe, startled.

He grinned knowingly. "Elvis requests the pleasure of your company tomorrow evening. He'd like you to be in one of his private booths."

I gaped at him, stunned speechless. An exclusive invitation to the Presley show, the hottest ticket in town? To watch from one of his personal booths? It was an honor bestowed on only his most inner circle...certainly not on some starstruck nobody he'd just met.

"I...wow. I don't know what to say," I stammered, clutching the ticket like a lifeline.

Joe chuckled. "You don't gotta say nothing, sweetheart. Just show up and knock his socks off like you did tonight." He gave me a friendly wink. "Wear something pretty. Elvis likes his girls dolled up nice."

With that bomb dropped, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, leaving me gaping after him. I looked back down at the ticket, running my thumb over the embossed lettering.

Elvis Presley, larger than life and twice as magnetic, wanted me in his booth tomorrow. Wanted to see me again. It was the stuff of dreams and fairy tales, the kind of thing that didn't happen to girls like me. And yet... Squaring my shoulders, I tucked the ticket carefully into my purse and slipped into my room. As I began my nightly ablutions, I couldn't stop the giddy smile from spreading across my face. How foolish and naive of me. But also, how very curious.

Ready or not, I had tickets tomorrow. I had to extend my stay, if for nothing but to see what all the fuss was about. And come hell or high water… I was going to knock his socks off, just like Joe said. But before I could do that, there was the matter of having nothing beautiful to wear...

Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957

#songbird #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis fic #elvis presley slow burn

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sanriomilk · 25 days ago

Text

I have ideas. I'll make all of them but I need to know which one is going first.

Warnings: 16+ Cheating (guys and girls dont), if you squint mentions of intercourse, violence (through school hostage situation), mild fear (DOLLY), AFAB (you can change the greeting to your liking)

DOLLY HYUNJIN IS NOT IN THE POLL ANYMORE.

A/n: Why is kento's low key giving snowdrop, but if it was japanese?

[Third Person POV]

16+

Warnings: sexual implications, cheating (dont), work relationship.

_______________________________________

CHEATER Minho

Minho was never fond of his marriage. It was an arranged marriage, and he'd only married for his parents, who kept pestering on and on about his marriage.

Minho wasn't the type to engage in workplace romance. But y/n, his secretary was so nice to him.. He never loved his wife. They always argued over small and petty things, and recently, their arguments escalated when she asked for a child. He wasn't ready to be a father. Heck, he wasn't ready for marriage.

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Minho woke up in his hotel bed, shirtless in only his boxers. He had a business trip to Chicago to represent his company, Lee Know Enterprises, at a few major business related events. You, being his secretary, it would be mandatory for you to travel beside him to assist him.

His vision was disoriented as he opened his eyes, adjusting to the bright sunlight that pooled onto the white bedsheets and duvet.

He looked around to see his clothes on the floor and saw you asleep on your chest with your bare back facing up. Everything was coming back.

After last night's events, he'd expressed his emotional anger towards his marriage and everything and took it out on you, his secretary. With consent, of course.

He got out of bed and wore a pair of sweatpants and walked to his en suite to wash his face. He'd cheated. But it's never felt better..

He walked back and saw you, sitting up in bed wearing one of his shirts, on her phone.

"How was your sleep last night? Is that my shirt?" He suddenly realized you were wearing one of his shirts.

Inspired by @jeonginsleftcheek 's 𝓓𝓸𝓵𝓵𝔂 series.

[Mostly User's POV]

13+

Warnings: Suggestive content, mild fear (I think that's it?)

HEADS UP: I do not intend to steal any work. This is pure inspiration and not copying or anything like that. The concept i want to do is completely different, but I will take it down if asked.

_______________________________________

DOLLY Hyunjin

You had gotten a weird Christmas. Well, not you, your friends. You've always been such a giver, so they decided to gift your busy scientist arse a gift that could finally give you some action in your life.

It was a doll. Specifically, a Boyfriend Doll. It was made to talk romantic things with a press of a button and 'look' like a boyfriend. You'd thought it was sketchy at first, but your friends assured you it was 100% legit from an adult doll brand called 𝓓𝓸𝓵𝓵𝔂.

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When you first unboxed him, you'd thought he was sculpted by the Greek gods. He was obviously man made, given his ethereal features cause literally no human being can look that good. He also looked hyper realistic, which was a tad bit creepy.

You decided to place him on the mostly unused armchair in your room. He looked like a rockstar with his black and blonde mullet and leather outfit. He fit quietly nicely with the rare Gibson Electric Guitar you had hung on the wall near him.

But it only took a few months of affection towards Hyunjin for you to want to return it back to the sellers. You could've sworn Hyunjin was haunted. Your things were being stolen and returned on their own, things moved when you weren't looking. Things like Hyunjin.

The next day, Hyunjin was gone from the armchair he'd usually be on to creepily stare at you during the night. You didn't notice until you freshened up and noticed your rare Gibson Electric Guitar gone too..

When you walked out, you instantly paled at the sight of him tuning your guitar.

"No! It's just me!" He could talk?! "I swear I'm not gonna hurt you. I can explain" Hyunjin tried to get up, but stumbled.

"Wait ─"

(I might change the name to something because of the 20 letter name limit)

[First Person POV]

16+

Warnings: Violence, School Hostage Situation, Character is one of the bad guys, gore (?), manhandling, terrorist x teacher.

_______________________________________

HOSTAGE Kento Yamakazi

I was armed and bulked up, with the whole group wearing their masks to disguise themselves. Today was the day my group had been finally waiting for.

Terrorising a school? Nah. We were gonna gain intel from the government about our families' murders.

A kindergarten teacher there, y/n l/n's father works for the government with a high position. High enough to know enough information about the murders. If I can get to y/n, then we can get to her father, and the government

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I was only stupid enough to forget the fact that Y/n was the teenage girl who'd saved my life by donating her blood to me after I'd experienced a life-threatening car accident when I was 14. But when she moved away to Osaka, I'd forgotten that teenage girl's face and name and grew into an adult with a separate life and motive.

"Move it." I said sternly to some older students and teachers who were lagging behind. All the students and staff were going to be forced into the gymnasium for the hostage. "That's right."

When I saw you, I felt a sense of familiarity and grabbed your shoulder to look at your face. My mask covered my whole face, luckily. You looked so familiar. Maybe you just had one of those faces.

"Just go. No funny business, alright?!" He pushed your body into the gymnasium lightly.

You sat next to some younger students to comfort them. "Get those cry babies to stop crying. Now.. We're here for a lady named y/n l/n. Does anyone know her? If you're her, you better stand up and come forward! Or else we're gonna stay and keep you like this for God knows how long."

(I reached the 10 photos per post thing)

[Third Person POV]

13+

Warnings: Bullying, destruction of personal property, mild angst, perversion (in personality), bad parenting.

_______________________________________

BULLIED Ryohei Arisu

Ryohei Arisu was born to a reputable family. But that didn't stop people from bullying him for enjoying his habit of playing video games as Arisu was obsessed with video games and basically a game nerd.

Arisu dreaded going to school because he'd get bullied again. The fact that he was from a reputable family made it worse for him, as the bullies found a way to make him feel like some burden or disappointment.

But they took it one step further this time. One of them grabbed his expensive controller and threw it to the floor, the other stomping on it, smashing it to smithereens. It was.. brutal.

"No! My- My controller!" Then they yanked his glasses off of his face and broke it. Seeing the damage was done, they smirked among each other and left.

"M-my.. controller.. I-.." He said, rummaging through his locker for his spare glasses. Once he found them and wore it, he broke out in a sob at the small mess on the floor.

"It's all gone now.." He mumbled to himself, not noticing you approaching him.

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omegasmileyface · 5 months ago

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The Foleys' Incredible Crisis

Chapter 1: Call It Stormy Monday

Call It Stormy Monday (But Tuesday Is Just as Bad) was written and performed in 1947 by T-Bone Walker. It is one of the most popular Blues songs ever, and has been performed and reiterated by countless other musicians. It has been credited with inspiring B.B. King to take up electric guitar, and it is included in the Library of Congress.

Happy Invisobang!!! This should have been posted earlier in the week but I couldn't make myself get to the computer to finalize/format it. Hehe. This year I had the INCREDIBLE experience of working with Shadow and Sharks, who were such wonderful artists— they have a whole smörgåsbord of art to please your eyes in this story! They have kept me on my toes— as I write this, the final, collaborated illustration is still a secret to me 👀 Lola is an OC I named once I realized Tucker absolutely feels like he has a little sister. Since then she's been in my heart and I can't let her go. My wonderful girl Lola. It's a treat whenever I get to see her in the wild— I almost had a heart attack when she appeared in Lex Luthor's Ascent from Supervillainy to Fatherhood by halfagone!

For a directory of all currently posted chapters and related content, check out the Table of Contents!

fic summary: After a whole week of vacation stuck together, the Foleys were more than happy to have some time apart. So when they each found themselves caught up in ghost business, that meant handling it alone. Angela wasn't planning on improvising a ghost conspiracy, Maurice was hoping to avoid working IT, Lola didn't think playing a hero would take her out of school, and Tucker would really have liked to focus on his own problems. But, really, what else did they expect from Amity Park? Home, sweet home.

words: 2269

AO3 link

next chapter [pending]

Tucker dropped his bag with a thunk. He was far beyond caring to be delicate, despite the electronics inside— he just wanted to shed his shoes and jacket and maybe the memories of the trip along with them.

"Ohhhh-kay," said his mom, grimacing at the trash can. Nobody had thought to empty it before they left. "What a vacation!" She laughed emptily. "I'm going to bed. You can fend for yourselves for dinner."

Tucker's dad popped back out from behind the bathroom door. "Before you go," he called over the rush of the faucet, "can we all just agree? Real quick, get in the den and then we can all ignore each other."

Lola sighed loudly and gave up untying her shoe, just kicking it off. Tucker agreed. He couldn't wait to wash his hands after the long trip.

His dad dried off his hands and joined them in the den, looking each of his family members in the eyes one by one. "I propose we never talk about this trip unless we have to."

Everyone agreed with as much fervor as they could muster after the fraught day.

"Also," said Lola, "I think we should try not to talk to each other for a whole day."

"Works for me," said Tucker.

His mom yawned. "Much as I love you all, I'm good with a day pretending you don't exist. Tucker, can you walk with Lola to and from school tomorrow?"

He looked at his little sister. She shrugged.

"As long as she plays nice, yeah."

His dad clapped. "Cool. Alright. So, unless one of us needs something, we all mind our own business tomorrow? Okay. I'm gonna order a pizza, and... I'll sleep in the guest room tonight. Pleasure doin' business with you all."

Tucker closed his eyes and sighed, pleased at imagining taking a shower and sleeping in his own bed in a few hours.

They had just wanted to see family in Chicago. What a disaster.

The library was quiet when Angela Foley came in. That made sense, she worked weekday mornings, so they usually only saw adults and the rare preschooler. As much as she liked helping the spread of knowledge, it was nice not to have too much to do at the front desk. Maybe she could get a crossword puzzle or two done.

She had made it about halfway through the puzzle (Angela knew a lot of things, but wordplay was never her specialty. What on Earth was she supposed to get from "gift for a blue lady"?) before someone walked in, paused, and went straight for the front desk.

She put on her smile. "Hi! Can I help ya with anything?"

The man was tall, wearing a clean white button-up shirt and jeans. His brassy skin and black hair caught strangely in the fluorescent lights, turning almost orange at their edges. She was pretty sure he was a ghost in disguise, but she had helped ghosts before. Usually, if one was asking for help using a library, they weren't intent on doing anything violent.

Usually. She still reserved a little caution.

"Yes, I'm looking for information on a very distant place. Where might I find something like that?"

"Well, what place is it?"

"It's called An Aghaidh Mhòr."

Angela blinked at the unfamiliar sounds. "I'm not familiar. Is that... Gaelic?"

The man fiddled with his sleeves. "Scottish, I believe, yes."

"Alright." Angela stood up and moved toward the computer monitor at the desk by the door. "I'm going to check in our catalog for books on Scotland."

The man watched silently as she searched. Angela hummed. "It looks like, in house, the only books we have on Scotland are travel guides covering the whole of the UK or Europe. I don't expect they'd have many details on smaller places— well, I'm assuming An Aghaidh Mhòr is small, since I haven't heard of it. If you'd like, you can check anyway, or I can contact another library in the system, and they can send over some more specialized books, but that might take a few days."

The man said nothing, but his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Angela recognized the face of a person with a wide, potent array of bad options.

"Or, if you're more pressed for time, we do have a few computers and Internet access here. I can help you find some web sites that might have what you're looking for."

"And this wouldn't take any longer than looking through a book?"

Angela smiled and headed toward the public computers. "Faster, even, if you know what you're doing. I can help you if you've never done it before."

They began their search, and the man caught on quickly to what Angela was doing and how. She helped him for a while, long enough to find out that An Aghaidh Mhòr was a place in the woody North of Scotland, usually called Aviemore, and was something of a tourist destination. Beyond that, she left him to do his own research and went back to her crossword.

She just had a pesky few clues left when the man started muttering curses in another language and walked back over to her desk.

With panicked eyes, he said "I have to be honest. What I'm looking for is, ah… evidence that An Aghaidh Mhòr has an open community of ghosts alongside its humans. I'm certain that it once did, and I know that it still must. But I have chased every tail of information I could find that led to pages on the computer, and none of them, regardless of detail or experience with the town, has mentioned it."

He looked down and seemed to weigh something in his head. "It must be some sort of secret. Whether to protect the ghosts or to protect themselves from ridicule, the living people of An Aghaidh Mhòr have hidden their ghost society. You have to help me find it."

The little hairs on Angela's body all stood up. Warning bells were going off in her head. There was nothing to do but remain calm. "If that's the case, I don't know about anything like that. I can send out a question to my colleagues to see if they know anything, but I'm afraid I can't–"

"No!" The man swung out a hand, and the inner doors swung shut, silvery light weaving across them like fishing nets to keep them in place. The lights dimmed and his skin faded to a deep, fiery orange, layered and complex like agate. His eyes glowed like the moon. The few library guests gasped and looked at him in shock.

"You are a keeper of information, from a city with a striking connection to ghosts. I need to know the truth about ghostly An Aghaidh Mhòr, and you must help me find it." His silver eyes were full of fear, but Angela couldn't bring herself to care how the ghost who just trapped and threatened her was feeling.

She had to think fast to get out of this safely. Something to keep his hopes up…

"Fine. Fine." Angela held up her hands. "I'm not confident in my own grasp of the situation, but I do know of some secrets like the one you're talking about. It'll take some time– say, a couple hours– to put together anything meaningful, and I'll need to call in an expert, but I can do it. I will do it."

She could only hope her friends were any good at improv.

Maurice was never one for early mornings, but he always made the best of his hour alone after the kids went off to school and Angela's shift started. That was his time to make coffee and goof around. He could prance around the kitchen in ways that would make Tucker gag if he were there, and as long as he couldn't see his neighbors, he could put them out of mind enough to sing as loud as he wanted.

Before work was the blues hour. Today he put on Lucille. Whole album, on tape, from the top.

If anybody asked why he started his days with the blues, he'd probably say something about the sad lyrics reminding him how lucky he was. How no matter how embarrassing the family vacations or boring the work or sleazy the boss, he still had a clean house around him and a faithful wife beside him.

In reality, though, he mostly just liked the beat.

Once he got into work, it was just the same as ever. Double-entries and journalizing. He didn't even get to mix up which accounts he dealt with. VLADCO was too big for that. It was Accounts Receivable, 140-180, day after day.

But at least it wasn't IT.

Then, after almost an hour of swimming through "Axiom Labs, Ltd. $1,300 Debit" and "Hey, Maurice, how was the weekend?" and "Nugreen Ectosuppliers, LLC $400 Credit" and "You get that last letter? Crazy what Masters is trying these days, yeah?", everything went dark.

(Or, at least darker than usual. The grainy white of every surface in the office never lent itself to anything deeper than a cloudy grey.)

After a few seconds of quiet shock, the lights came back. Now, however, there was a ghost floating in front of the door connecting the Finances and Supplies department to the rest of the facility.

He seemed to be well-muscled and of average height, though it was hard to tell exactly what a ghost looked like when they were putting off that much of an aura. His skin was dark green and rough-looking, like bark, and there was a reddish halo around his head like some sort of spectral hair. His blood-moon eyes looked over everyone in the room individually before anyone dared speak. Finally, he opened his mouth.

"This is the center of a company that arms humans againsts ghosts and similar threats. Yes?"

Shocked, a few people nodded.

"And you are all from the department keeping stock of supplies. I do not know where your weapons are kept, but I know that you do. Someone in here will retrieve them for me. I need them, if I am to bring my people, ghosts and humans, together again."

The tension finally broke the membrane freezing time, and several office workers started to move for phones.

"Don't bother trying to get help. I have severed all the lines of communication between you and the world outside this office. I will leave you alone, as soon as someone leads me to the armory."

Maurice glanced at the little LCD display on the phone on his desk. No signal. His computer, too, had nothing when he clicked over to the Internet settings.

No one said anything. Some kept trying with their phones, but not a single person offered to explain how scant and useless the actual in-house ecto-equipment supply was or show the path to it. Maurice imagined they were all thinking the same thing he was; yes, complying was generally the way to stay safe in a hostage situation, and panic was strong, but a ghost coming into town and getting their hands on even just half-assembled ecto-equipment never went well. And, maybe even more importantly, VLADCO had terrifyingly strict regulations on safe ecto-tech policy. Unless the immediate threat of being personally hurt for information increased, the consequences in the long run were the biggest monster here.

The ghost crossed his arms. "Fine. You have one hour to bring me to the weapons. I can wait. I have waited this long. If you take any longer, or if you attempt any trickery, then I will start going through with threats. Until then, you may have your time to panic and fantasize about ways out that don't involve giving up company supply. I will be standing here."

He leaned against the door, and his gaze stayed rock-hard on the workers and their cubicles.

Maurice caught the eye of his most tolerable coworker Jacob. Jacob widened his eyes in some silent look of panicked questioning. Maurice shrugged. He was scared out of his mind, but what was there to do? Freaking out wouldn't do anybody any good. He could wait here and see if any ghost hunter showed up, and once they got closer to the end of the hour, everybody could meet up and decide if it was worth giving up the ecto-tech.

For now... well, he certainly wasn't going to do more accounting. This was as good an excuse for a break as any.

He toyed around on his computer for a bit, fidgeting with whatever programs he had. Maybe if the ghost noticed him, he could say he was looking for office schematics explaining where the ecto-tech was held. Really, he couldn't think to do anything but let off stress.

He played around in the rudimentary E-mail client for a bit. Mimed sending goofy messages to his coworkers while he knew he couldn't accidentally send them. But there, at the top of his inbox, was the automated morning office update. It had just come in four minutes ago... after the communications were shut off.

Was there some kind of hole in the ghost's anti-communication measure? The intercoms weren't working, and normal E-mails weren't going through, even within just Finances & Supplies. But the daily updates worked on a different system than the normal E-mails, so nobody had to send them at a consistent time each day, just queue them up.

...Was there something about the different setup that made it immune to the ghost's blackout?

Maurice got to investigating.

#expect chapter 2 tomorrow!! PLEASE YELL AT ME IF I DONT POST CHAPTER 2 TOMORROW #omg its edited and everything im just putting it off...... but i MUST shower #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #tucker foley #lola foley #angela foley #maurice foley #invisobang 2024 #my writing

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