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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

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Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down. Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift. It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up. Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you. The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door. The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in. You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar. Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary. But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop. The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment. Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin. Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag? Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night. Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier. On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.” Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities. The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far. Most likely because they were all getting hammered. Maybe you should get out more? Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?” You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.” He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You��re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call. And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar. They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley. The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air. Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.” Eddie barks, glaring down at you. He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, taken back by his stern voice. It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break. Jett just–”

“Your break? Now? I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor. Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth. Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead? Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.” You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness. Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo. You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.” He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t. The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system. Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit. Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now. He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’. No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver. The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world. It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way. It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever. You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated. The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life. The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in. Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you. Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes. It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances. You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you. But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.” You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.” He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.” You notify him, glancing at your watch. “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table. The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean. It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless. With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two. Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at. So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place. It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week. The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills. If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip. It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money. If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him. He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen. You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.

Just take his order and get it over with. Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running. Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’. Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked. Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought. Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for. It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hey, you good?” Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?” You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced. You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way. If only life were ever so kind to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down. You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze. Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat? Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission. An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“ You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt. Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions. An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What. The. Fuck. Was that?” He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened. And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible. The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it. Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving. “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking. She wasn’t into it.”

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account. His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way. No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar. I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.” Eddie growls. “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me? And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.” He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far. You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat. It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say. Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs. Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by. A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match. The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil. But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape. And it wasn’t working. Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered. Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option. It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention. There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.

“Hey, Ed!” He called behind him. It was Jett. A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision. He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift? Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!” He yells again. “Hey, you okay? What happened? Do you need–”

“Move over.” You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully. “You’re asking too many questions.”

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi. You gotta breathe.” His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago.

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.

“In.” Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip. “Out.” He exhales. “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute. Please.” Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone. “Can you look at me?” He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head. Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.” He attempts to soothe. “You wanna get some air?” He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno. ‘M sorry.” You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.” He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion. “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley. The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.

“Try breathing again, in and out.” Eddie encourages.

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins. Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.” Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion. “Out.” He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again. And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer. You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–” You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.

“What?” He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale. His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.

“Nevermind.” You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle. Barely noticeable but still there.

“What?” He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?” He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.” Eddie scoffs. “I should’ve though.” He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground. “Motherfucker.” He mumbles.

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking. Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late. Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom. Gotta pick your battles.” He gestures toward you, shrugging.

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion. Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions. But he didn’t. He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked. He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.” You reply, staring down at your own shoes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?” He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.” Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside. “I at least need Eddie.” He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?” Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.” You insist. He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable. Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing. Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make. You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that. So it would have to wait until the drive home. Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become. It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30. Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home. A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended. Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact. It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door. Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly. You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world. If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.” He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table. “Do you watch where you’re going? Do you have eyes?” He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again. You don’t feel real. You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

“Now I’m out what–ten or so plates? Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.” Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes. And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry? What did I tell you? I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.” Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.” Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.” You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces. There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults. All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs. “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded. Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face. As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.” Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage. Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it. He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean. You’re being mean.” You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?” You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.” You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it. You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar. If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for. Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much. Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover. Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hurries over, staring you down. All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger. Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears. The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once. You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.” You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches. If looks could kill. For the second time that night. Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.” You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality. You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this. You did not think this through. But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically. You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.

“Bambi, what the fuck. You gonna drive?” Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.” You slur.

“What are you doing out here?” He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.” You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes. You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave. Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.” You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?” You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him. All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore. You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person. But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.” You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly. It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system. He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern. A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too. A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable. Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features. Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance. If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that. But you weren’t that drunk.

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way. Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car. And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.

“C’mon.” Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own. From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car. You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one. Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over. Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag. When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention. At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder! Ow!” Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased. Forget about this stupid night. At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self. You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed. Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be. Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it. And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.” You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You’re fine, you’re fine.” Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination. It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not. Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts? Or did you bravely swallow it down? Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house. Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground. Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses. You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.” He sighs. “Puke it out.” A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath. Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind. He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair. Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming. But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him. If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is. Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.” You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you. The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out. You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.” He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod. Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched. It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt. You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again. Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi? I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?” He asks.

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to. Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots. As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.” You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret. “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.” Eddie exhales. “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again. Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could. Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.” You pout pitifully.

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so. The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.” He mumbles.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean@micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #stranger things au #stranger things fic #stranger things

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cak3o · 11 months ago

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quick question (pun intended, even though I’m not asking abt him XD) what is Shadow Man’s role/personality like in your AU? From what I’ve seen, it’s like he’s pretty young and Top Man is kind of his friend? Guardian?

Hiiiiiii, ur ask got me so excited I yelled in my car on my way home from work/so so so positive

So. The 3 bots!!! They are so so cute to me (I call everything cute) because I love that they were made to function specifically as a team! A team to travel space together and mine power crystals?? They are so fun.

After the events of the 3rd game (which I will. Hopefully draw out one day) the 3 bots actually get to do their job!!! (After a lot of convincing from dr.light to the government or w/e that these robots will not go rogue again.)

Top (the leader), Needle, Spark, Magnet, Hard, Snake and Gemini all travel into space in a giant ship (I like to imagine they reused gamma in some way for this…I haven’t drawn it out yet tho) and investigate interstellar power sources!

Their missions are going great and their reports back to Light are pretty normal! Until…

During one if his expeditions, Top stumbles upon an injured robot…in the middle of space??

Concerned, they take him back to their ship where he quickly charms the entire crew with his odd personality and adowable face. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s super excited to meet everyone, especially Top.

Eventually, they go back home to Earth and bring the mystery robot to Doctor Light but for some reason-

They have *absolutely* not clue what the hell he’s made out of. Although he has the looks of a robot, he seemingly doesn’t have any actually mechanical components! Anytime they try to get a reading on what’s goin on in there, the images come out blurry and weird. Light worries about what would happen if Wily heard about this mysterious life form….(spoiler alert. He totally hears about it later)

In the meantime, the 3 bots offer to keep an eye on him. Light allows it, and thus, we have the final full 3rd group!

With a great team spirit and hardworking attitudes the 3 bots have a bit more spice added to their lives with the addition of “Shadowman”! Named such due to his tendency to hide behind others like a shadow :^3

It must’ve been fate that lead them to each other…

Or was it?

(Spoiler. It wasn’t)

Anyways. TLDR- yes, Top is like a guardian of sorts for Shadow lmao. He found a weird space baby and said “yeah, I’ll adopt him.” Little did he know that the space baby had this all planned from the beginning.

#megaman #rockman #Topman #shadowman #snakeman #geminiman #hardman #needleman #magnetman #sparkman #cak3oart

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davenporttf · 1 year ago

Text

Emascatine

Yo, what's up? My names Phil and I'm the quarterback for Boston College. Go Eagles! I love the sport and I'm stoked I get to play QB.

I gotta be honest with you though, I've been having a slump lately out on the field. I haven't been at the top of my game. I've been working out every day but no matter how much training I put in, I'm getting sacked left and right.

I stopped by a local vitamin shop to switch up my preworkout. I don't think this whey stuff is really giving me the boost I need, ya know? The guy at the shop seemed like he was into me. I caught him multiple times checking me out as I was walking up and down the aisles. Not that I care really, a compliment is a compliment but dude could be less obvious about it. He eventually took a break from creepin to ask me what I was looking for in particular.

I explained how I wanted to switch up my preworkout, and he said he had just the thing. It was this black generic bottle with the brand name "Hit Fit." The slogan underneath it said "It'll hit you the first time guaranteed!" I didn't recognize the brand so I looked at the active ingredient, Emascatine. I've never heard of it either but the guy at the shop said it was a new type of drug only sold through his shop.

I was weary of trying the brand but the prospect of fast results was exactly what I needed right now. I caved and decided if I didn't see any results, I'd return it later.

I stopped home and whipped up the preworkout shake and threw it in my bag along with the bottle in case one of the teammates needed some. I made it to the locker room just in time, and setup in front my locker. I took out my preworkout and took my first sip. It tasted like fruit loops which was a nice changeup from my last powder that tasted like crap. I took more sips and really liked the taste so I started to down it.

"So tasty!" my voice cracked as I said it. "You good Phil?" asked my teammate, Drew.

"I'm good, sweetie!" The words just left my mouth without a thought. My voice had raised several octaves and my face was as red as ever realizing what I said. Drew looked at me in amusement. "haha okay, babe" thinking it was a joke.

I refocus on getting dressed, and pulled on my compression pants over my jock. My skin felt so sensitive in the moment. The tightness of the pants felt so good on my legs. I rubbed my legs up and down feeling the spandex material stretch. I was getting aroused by watching my quads flex in them. My eyes were closed sitting on the bench while I rubbed my inner thighs. An inaudible moan came from my mouth as I felt my dick hardened.

What was happening to me?! I look over the Hit Fit bottle and notice a tiny disclaimer at the bottom. "Emascatine may cause side effects of heightened sensitivity, mood changes, sexual stimulation, and emasculation."

I snapped out of it long enough to feel my ass stretch the tights even further. My center of gravity shifted as my ass grew into a firm bubble butt. I tried to walk around but felt an itch coming from deep inside my ass. I braced myself with hands on the wall squirming to hopefully scratch the itch. I don't know why it felt so right in the moment but I started to shake my ass faster and faster side to side as if it were on display for my teammates.

Drew had taken notice, yelling over "Yo, Phil. What has gotten into you?!" They watched as I continued moving my ass in their direction. My teammates' demeanor changed the longer they watched. I could see their faces going from confusion to slight interest to lustful. My ass was hypnotizing and they could have stood there all day staring into it's fluid motion.

I loved the look on their faces and called over to them "Hey boysss! You like what you see?"

Drew smiled, "Damn, Phil. Why don't you come over here and we can do some team bonding?"

I thought he'd never ask. I let them line up as I got in position.

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

Epilogue:

Coach says I need to take a step back from QB. Something about my performance not being up to snuff. I've been told I'd make a better water boy. I've really enjoyed it so far. I keep my boys hydrated as they take turns slamming my P-spot. Team morale has never been higher.

#gay tf #mental change #straight to gay #jock #gay jock #male transformation #Emascatine #tight clothes

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 1 year ago

Text

close to home | chapter thirteen

plot: the reader helps out when disaster strikes, and works diligently to keep the prison safe

series masterlist Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,266 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading! Sorry updates haven’t been quicker, recovery has eaten away at a lot of my time and I’ve been focusing on getting healthy, hopefully I’ll be able to update more regularly soon!

Gunshots pulled you from your sleep, and you sat up. You didn’t know if it was just in your dream, but when they echoed around the cell block again, you knew they were real. Tora started growling at the noise, and you grabbed your gun and machete.

You closed the cell door behind you, effectively keeping Tora from harm's way before you took off. You were only dressed in a pair of men's boxers you found in the clothing bin, a tank top, and socks. Everyone in the cell block was only just waking up for the day. As you stumbled down the stairs, Glenn was yelling at you.

“It’s coming from cell block D. We gotta get in there!”

“Where’s Maggie?” You followed after him, dodging people running left and right.

“On watch,” He replied.

You had no other questions and didn’t hesitate to follow Glenn out of C and into the courtyard. Both Tyreese and Sasha were on your tails. Rick and Daryl were running to join you, and you all rushed into the chaos in D.

You barely had time to react before a walker grabbed you, spit and blood drooling from its mouth. Its face was covered in blood, and flesh was caught in its teeth. Your stomach dropped at the sight of it, and you quickly put the walker down.

People screamed in fright, and as flesh was torn from their bodies, gunshots echoed through the chamber. You saw Rick ushering people towards the door, but you didn’t stop to help. At least a dozen or so walkers were terrorizing the cell block, and you worked to help Daryl, Tyreese, and Sasha clear it. At that point, Carol arrived and jumped in to help you.

“(Y/N), with me,” Daryl told you, headed towards the stairs. You quickly followed behind him and looked for any walkers on the second level. You could hear Sasha and Tyreese yelling that the rooms were clear downstairs.

You were a few feet behind him when a walker popped out of a cell and grabbed ahold of you. In shock, you dropped your gun and struggled against it. Before you had time to react further, an arrow pierced its skull, pulling you to the ground.

“You good?” Daryl asked you, reaching out a hand to help you up. He turned to look at the walker and sighed, “That’s Patrick,”

Rick and Glenn joined you upstairs to assess the damage, and within a few minutes, you realized that Patrick didn’t have any bite wounds, making him patient zero. Your head swooned, and you continued down the hallway to see what else was up here.

At the end of the hallway was the last cell, door closed. A walker approached the bars, trying its hardest to get to you. Your stomach dropped when you saw its face, and you called over Rick. One of the newer doctors was there as well, and you two shared a look at the scene before you.

“What is it?” Rick asked.

You wiped the blood from your forehead as Dr. Caleb explained what likely happened to him. You also said, “It’s like a pressure in the lungs, like a soda can. It’s gotta come out somewhere. What do you think, Caleb, some type of flu?”

He nodded slowly, “I don’t see what else it could be.”

“I had a sick pig,” Rick said, “It died quickly. You think from the same thing?”

“That’s how things like this usually spread,” Dr. Caleb said.

You took a few steps back and forth and then looked at Rick, “We need to call a council meeting. Now.”

***

You sat with Carol, Daryl, your uncle, Glenn, and Sasha at the table. You’ve spent the last ten minutes arguing about the best thing to do. Most of you agreed with quarantining those exposed, but some worried about if it was too late and if it would actually work.

“We have to watch for symptoms,” Your uncle said, “We need to set up a place for them. We can’t go in there, and they can’t stay here.”

“Cellblock A,” You offered.

“Death row, what an upgrade,” Glenn muttered.

You sighed, still coated in blood from the attack. “We need to do this now. We can’t just sit around and wait for this thing to spread. And we need to clean up. This blood is even more infected than it already is.”

***

An hour later, you were helping Daryl dig holes for the body. You were sweating buckets, and the gloves and mask didn’t help. It had to have reached 105 degrees by now, and you were feeling like you’d been out in the sun too long. You were only two graves in when Rick approached you guys.

You didn’t tune into their conversation; you just focused on the repetitive digging motion. But after a few minutes, you heard Maggie scream for Rick. Both you and Daryl dropped your shovels and raced after Rick. A few people had already converged at the failing fence, and you wasted no time getting to Sasha and helping her.

Blood sprayed out each time you stabbed a walker through the fence. You were moving as quickly as you could beside Sasha, but it seemed like a new walker appeared every second and was pushing forward. The fence was hanging dangerously low, and anxiety swarmed you. If it fell, you’d all have to run for your lives.

“(Y/N).”

You turned to Sasha, who had looked at something on the ground for a second. After killing another walker, you walked over to her, and your eyes widened. “Are those…”

“Are you guys seeing this,” Sasha yelled over the noise, “Someone’s feeding these things.”

Rick yelled your name, and you turned, horror filling your expression as the fence pushed further in. Both you and Sasha dropped your weapons and ran over, trying to help keep the fence up.

“This isn’t working!” You yelled over the moaning.

“Back up, everyone, back up,” Daryl yelled. He was closest to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you from the fence.

Thankfully it didn’t fall right away, but if it kept being pushed, it wouldn’t make it till sunset.

“Daryl, get the truck….” Rick said.

Your head swooned, and you didn’t listen to the rest of what he was saying. Your head was aching, and you couldn’t catch your breath. You blamed it on the heat and took a few deep breaths before rejoining the group, where a plan was already in motion.

You stayed with Sasha and Glenn at the fence while Daryl and Rick took your jeep into the field beyond the fence. Your stomach was unsettled at the plan, but you knew something had to be done. And if the sickness was being spread by the animals, they weren’t safe to have around anyway. Still, killing them like that felt disgusting.

“Come on, let’s get the posts up,” Glenn said.

Neither you nor Sasha replied as you worked diligently to get the wooden posts up against the fence. You felt like you were sweating more than usual, and your grip kept slipping off the posts. Sasha eyed you for a moment.

“Are you okay?” She asked. Glenn looked over at you too.

“I’m okay, I’m okay…” You trailed off as your head swooned again. Your legs went wobbly, and you leaned against the inner fence. “I just think it’s the sun….” You trailed off. Black spots filled your vision, and you lost your balance. You lost consciousness before your head hit the ground.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

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axcel-lucci · 1 year ago

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Hello my sweet fellow Traffy fan

I am sick at the moment and wanted to request a law x y/n story where y/n is very sick and Law takes care of her like the sweet baby that he is and eventually has to confess his love for her.

In the meantime I will finally read through all your stuff!

(One dirty piece is my side account just so you know who I am)

Thank you so much! (And if you don't want to that's totally fine)

A kiss

A/N: HIIII! I hope you feel better soon, it sucks being sick so here, a Trafalgar Law x sick!reader.

(Y/n) was currently working by the boiler room when she had this sensation since earlier, the hot feeling in her body mixed with dizzyness and a little bit of a nauseated throat.

She doesn't even know what caused this, but she did know that it has been going on for a few days now and she also knows she's sick.

"Oh, I'd just rest and it'll be gone" she says... "I don't want to bother captain, he's busy... I can take care of myself" she says...

After her job at the boiler room, she headed off to the infirmary, hoping to get some paracetamol and finally drink it since she's done for the day, hopefully in secret because she doesn't want the crew to go and tell him...

Of course the walk was a bit long, causing her body to sway and her vision to blur as well as her head to become dizzy due to the motions of the sea around the sub.

'gosh darn it... Can't I do something with ease for once...?' She thought to herself as she blinked multiple times to try and focus herself on the way.

She managed to get a couple of steps away from the boiler room before feeling her knees give in and her body falling in a heavy feeling as the impact of her body and the floor felt almost nonexistent as her vision slowly blurred and faded into nothing, the last thing she ever heard was someone... Someone calling out to her and feeling their hand shaking her shoulder before blacking out entirely.

Law's pov:

I walked around the ship since my office was honestly getting smaller and smaller, as if I was overwhelmed at some point.

Where was I walking to? I don't know, but I did know that talking to a specific person would ease me... Give me a reason to keep going... Even maybe confe- no, that's too far...

As I round a corner, I heard a heavy sound against the floor as if something has fallen, looking over, the white uniform and black shoes made me realise that one of my crew has passed out, but the hair colour made me recognize who it was...

"(Y/n)!" I ran over to her, shaking her shoulder as I saw her face flushed and her breathing is very heavy, she's sweating bullets, too.

I brought a hand to her forehead and could feel it so high I thought I'd be scolded with heat.

I immediately picked her up and can feel the heat of her body through the thickness of the uniform informing me how severe it was, I immediately ran to the infirmary, ignoring the crew as they asked what happened.

I carefully placed (y/n) on the bed, knowing she needs to release some steam, I went to her room then her wardrobe and take a tank top and shorts.

Until I realised... I have to change her.

I froze for a few moments before shaking my head, "be professional, law!" I told myself before going back to the infirmary and changed her clothes.

I forced myself to ignore her beautiful body, her smooth skin, and her pretty waist- "stay focused! She might die from this!" I yelled at myself, and hopefully no one heard.

Once I had successfully completed that task, I called to Shachi and ordered him to bring me a basin of alcohol and cold water as well as a small towel.

He knew that I was in desperate need because within a few seconds, he gave it to me.

I immediately started to take care of her overheating body, and I was thankful enough that it had gotten lower than before.

After that, I placed the cold damp towel on her forehead before pulling the blanket over her.

It honestly made me sigh thinking why and how has this gotten so severe... Surely she would've felt it at first, did she ignore it? Did she even acknowledge it at all??

I hooked her to an IV drip since she was sweating a lot and me being afraid she might loose a lot of bodily fluids in the process.

After all that, I sat down at the edge of the bed and stare at her.

'why didn't she come to me when she first felt it? Why didn't she even tell me...?' I thought before sighing.

"Get well soon..." I mumbled.

After a while, Bepo came in to tell me that lunch was served, but right now... I don't think I have the appetite to do so.

"Captain, come on! (Y/n) will be very mad...!" Bepo told me

"No... I'm not hungry..." I muttered under my breath

"Uhm... Captain... I think I need to tell you this because I can't keep it from you" Bepo pouted while looking apologetic as I stare at him

"What do you mean...?"

"(Y/n)... Uhm... She's been feeling a little under the weather for a couple days now... I told her to tell you but she didn't want to bother you... I said I would if she didn't... And I thought she did... I'm sorry..." He muttered lowly

"Wait... You knew but you didn't tell me??"

"I- I know, captain... But I thought she already told you because she said she was getting better...!"

I just sighed, "it's okay... But at least you could've... You know..."

"I'm sorry..."

I shook my head before rubbing his head, "it's alright, Bepo... Can you just bring me my food? I don't want to leave her side..."

Bepo perked up a bit before nodding and left.

I turned back to her and held her hand in mine, hers were so much more warmer than my own, "wake up soon, (y/n)-ya. I have a lot to ask."

As if on cue, her eyes start to open only for them to close again due to the light above her.

"(Y/n)-ya..." I called as I took a step closer to her, her eyes were dazed and confused...

I knew that in this point of her sickness, she might not even remember what happened until she's all better.

"How are you feeling? Do you need some water?" I asked as I removed the towel from her forehead and dunk it into the cold basin of water before placing it back on her forehead.

"... Ter... Water... Please..." She muttered, still dazed as I nodded and handed her the glass of water after helping her sit up.

"Here... Careful" I said as she took a few sips before placing it down.

I laid her back down as she immediately passed out once again into a sleep.

Bepo came in and gave me my food, "hey... Bepo, after your meal, can you tell whoever in charge of today's meal to make a soup for her? She just woke up."

"Yes sir!" He nodded and left

I started eating while still watching her, at least now I know she's not gonna sleep for three days just to heal.

But then I had this thought... If she's too weak to even sit up on her own, does that mean she'd be unable to eat by herself? Holy shit... I'll feed her.

The thought of feeding her and just taking care of her in general made me all giddy and excited, only if she would remember this right after... I hope she would so that she'd remember how I love her...

Wait... No... Unprofessional.

I soon finished eating and Bepo came in with a bowl of fresh soup as I gave him my dishes before placing the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

"Thanks... You can go now." I said as Bepo nodded and left, "(y/n)... Hey, wake up..."

I softly and gently woke her up in which it worked for a bit.

I helped her sit up as I threw the towel back into the basin before holding up a spoonful of soup to feed her, "say ahh..."

She grumbled for a bit, still dazed and probably dizzy, "I can feed myself."

"Nonsense. You can't even sit up by yourself, what made you think you can eat by yourself?" I said in an annoyed tone before shaking my head, "don't make this any more difficult for me."

She sighed before eating, "sorry..."

I shook my head and continued to feed her, "for what?"

"You had to take care of me... I know you're busy and all..." She mumbled as I kept feeding her until the bowl is empty

"And? My crew's health is more important to me than any work." I muttered as I hand her a glass of water before walking over to the cabinets to give her some medicine to help her, once I hand her the medicine, I told her not to lay back down and let the food digest even just a little.

She obliged, but I can tell she has a hard time not looking at me when I'm sitting so close, so I placed a hand on the side of her face to make her look at me, which she let me do, "hey... Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Bepo said you were sick for a couple of days now... Why... Didn't you come to me instead of lying to Bepo?" I asked in a soft tone

"I don't... Want to bother you, captain... Your work as both the captain and this crew's doctor is already so much..." She muttered, looking down

"Hey. Look at me when I'm talking to you." I frowned making her look back up

"S-sorry..."

I sighed and shook my head, "nonsense... I am the crew's doctor, as you said, so you being sick wouldn't add to my work. And besides, I wouldn't consider you to be... 'work' related in any way."

"What do you mean...?" She asked, her eyes glossy... Probably since she's sick.

It made me sigh again and stare into her beautiful eyes that I always knew I'd drown into, "because... You're more than just a crew to me, and more than just a friend... I know you probably won't remember this but... I love you... (Y/n). So don't ever think you'd be any bother to me. I'd be more than happy to be here for you, actually."

"R-really...?" She stammered, "I thought..."

"What, that I don't want to be in any relationship?? Sure, I was... But... That's because I haven't met you yet" I smiled softly before placing my forehead against hers and pulling her closer, "just know that I will always be here for you, okay...?"

She nods, "you might get sick if you're this close to me"

"Hah... Then you'd take care of me, I don't mind that." I smirked before staring down at her pale lips, "do you mind...?"

She blushed a bit, despite her already flushed state, and nodded

I smiled gently before pressing my lips to hers, I could feel her slowly responding but it's weak, I don't mind... I can always do this again, hopefully she does remember this moment.

I soon pulled away and helped her lay back down, "now go to sleep so you'd be all better, okay?"

She nods slightly with her gorgeous gentle smile, "thanks... Law... And uhm... I-i love you too..." She said in a small voice but I heard it... I heard it very clear.

I smiled and kissed her forehead, "now here's to me hoping you don't forget."

Bonus:

(Y/n) soon got better but couldn't get her mind off the kiss Law gave her while she was sick, and at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to tell him

But she does have to, eventually.

She searched him and found him by the deck, alone.

"H-hey... Captain..." She called lowly as she turned to her with a hum

"Oh? (Y/n)-ya? What can I help you with?" He asks as she walked up beside him

"A-about the other day..." She muttered with a small blush, "w-when you kissed me...?"

Law could feel himself blush furiously, wishing the world to swallow him up until he's at least 30 feet deep into the core; "w-what about it...?" He muttered

"U-uhm... I want to know if... What you said was real, that you like me..." She muttered, "b-becausw I do... Too... I like captain too..."

Law could feel his heart piund heavily, his words swirling into nothingness but he knew what he should do so he placed his hands on her face and pulled her into a kiss.

It surprised her but she knew he had a brute way with his feelings, so he just responded into his kiss as much as he does.

Pulling away for a breath, Law looked at her flustered face, it made him want to see that more often

"I... I like you... Too... I-it wasn't supposed to be like this, I swear!" He swore a bit, "i-it was supposed to be next month, on a Friday with a bouquet of flowers...!" He admits before realizing his mistake and covering his mouth

It made her speechless, he knew he was ready but not THIS ready... But she just laughed a bit, "so... Is that a date?" She smiled

He sighed deeply, "yes... It is..." He muttered

#random #night thoughts #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x y/n #one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law smut #trafalgardwaterlaw #law #one piece law #law x you

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birthfan · 2 years ago

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Pregnant with twins. Your absolutely massive and a couple days overdue. Your doctor told you it would be a good idea if you went walking to help get them out. You decide to give it a try and go to your favorite hiking trail cause it’s always empty. It’s incredibly hot out so you figure you should be comfortable so you put on this loose but super short almost sheer top sun dress no bra even though your breasts are huge almost up a cup size from your normal DD. Your waddling down the trail listening to music not paying attention when you realize your miles from your car.

I always loved to go out in relaxing hikes in nature and figured this was my last chance before I'd be too busy taking care of my babies, so there I was 42 weeks pregnant on a lonely hiking trail.

Since I guessed no-one would be hiking and it was ridiculously hot this time of the year, I just had my lightest sundress on with nothing else, not even panties so I could feel what little breeze there was all over my body.

I had been feeling my belly contract during the hike but decided to not give it much thought, I was going to have a C-section in a few days since my babies had been taking so long, so I just thought it was Braxton Hicks as I'd been having them since my original due date.

As I kept walking and eventually reached the woods I felt a contraction much stronger than any previous ones, which made me bend over and clutch my belly "ooooofff hmm" I grunted.

I kept going and as I reached my favourite spot in the woods I took out my headphones and stretched a bit, as I was about to sit down I was suddenly hit by an incredibly strong contraction with a wave of pressure, soon followed by a wet sensation on the inside of my thighs and a loud splash.

"mmmnnnaa ooh god! T-this can't be happening!" I exclaimed panicked as I realized that my water had just broke, the pressure was constant and as I panted I slowly put my fingers inside me to measure my dilation.

As my finger tips were about to reach my cervix they were interrupted by my first baby's head "oh f-fuck hmmmm" I yelled as I felt another contraction, while I didn't push voluntarily my contracting womb made my first child slip lower into my birth canal.

"hnnng shit I need to get back" I saif I leaned on a tree clutching my contracting belly, as I tried walking I felt my legs being spread apart, unable to be closed as my baby's head started pressing on my vulva.

At this point I realized that no matter what I couldn't make it back in time, my car was three hours away and this deep in the wilderness there was no cell service, I'd have to push my babies out right there.

I felt another contraction and pushed with it causing my lips to open up under my sundress "huuuuu mmmnn" I moaned as I felt a burning sensation slowly but steadily building up as my labias stretched.

The sound of the birds singing offered a little bit of calmness in this terrifying situation as moved towards a tree stump. I lifted my dress' skirt up as I sat on the log with my legs spread open exposing my soon to crown baby's head.

I pushed with the next contraction causing my first child's head to reach it's widest point, stretching my vulva beyond belief "haaaaa nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggh haaaaa" I breathed out as my lips burned, feeling like they would snap like an overstretched rubber band.

As tears of pain fell down my cheeks my hand made it's way downwards to my labias, my fingers slowly massaging them hoping to help them stretch around the head, I felt my dress clinging to me from the sweat as my nipples were now visible, not that I cared as I was alone.

A contraction hit me and I pushed with it as best I could "hmmmmgggooooooAAAH Haaa haaa" I shrieked and panted as the head popped out of me spraying fluids all over as it dangled out.

I breathed and rested to prepare for the next push which would hopefully be enough to take this first baby out of me. I slowly lowered myself putting my elbows on the tree stump and resting my back on it as I could feel the leaves on the ground tickling my butt.

I prepared myself and pushed as I felt the next contraction "nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggh hoooo" I groaned as the baby slipped out of me with a small wet thud onto the forest floor.

I picked up my baby as she cried, I cuddled her and cleaned her up while I exposed my sweaty breasts to feed her. I could feel her sibling already making its way down my birth canal.

"hmmm it seems your little brother or sister is excited to come out" I said as the baby felt smaller then its sister luckily. The second baby was already bulging out my vulva, though it didn't feel as bad as before.

As I nursed my daughter I got up to have gravity help with the second baby so that I could come out faster. It seemed to work as without even needing to push yet I felt myself slowly open up.

I pushed lightly bending my legs as a contraction hit me, I could feel my lips stretching, and as my free hand reached for the baby's head I felt that it had almost reached it's widest point.

As this baby seemed to not be as much of a problem as it's sister I decided to start walking back to my car. As I reached the perimeter of the woods I hadn't pushed again yet but I could feel my second baby crowning, the burn being much more manageable than the previous one.

While I kept walking, the main dirt road now in sight, I felt my second kid's head slowly come out about halfway as my firstborn suckled on my milky breast. Then suddenly the head came out with a wet pop, unfortunately soaking my dress' skirt which I had managed to keep clean up until now.

As I went down the main dirt road I could feel the head dangling in-between my fat wet thighs, I knew I'd still need to push for my baby to come out when the next contraction would hit.

As I felt my womb tightening one last time I squatted down, my free hand holding my baby's head to catch it "hmmmmmm huuuu" I panted as with this last push my second baby came out of me, I caught my son and held him up to my other breast as the remaining fluids spilled out of me making a puddle in-between my feet.

As both my babies were now quietly suckling on my breasts I kept walking back "thank you for being easier than your sister I said to my son as I kissed the top of his head and made my way back to the car.

#birth kink #giving birth #fpreg #lovely anon #i wish that were me #birth in nature #twins #one painful one casual

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lucy90712 · 1 year ago

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Pablo Gavi- Teach me

A/n: I know Gavi didn’t play in the second leg against Man Utd but let’s just pretend he did

wc: 2.3k

Today has just been one of those days everything has just not gone my way. This morning the shower in my room at university didn't work and since I've dropped seemingly everything I've picked up and I just can't figure out how to start my next assignment. In hopes to clear my mind I decided to go for a walk as usually that helps me sort my head out and get myself back in a good mind set. My walk was really nice for a while until I got into the town which was heaving with people. Usually it's busy but today it was just manic which was making me more stressed than I was before I left.

Once I got a bit further I realised that I came out not too long before Manchester United play Barcelona in the europa league. Had I known the game was on I would never have come this way as usually I avoid going anywhere near the stadium on game days as it gets so busy but now I'm committed to going this way I will just have to deal with it. The last time I accidentally came near the stadium on a game day when I first moved here I found a back road that was a lot more quiet so I made my way through the crowds until I found the street. The street goes around the back of the stadium which is why it's so quiet but I like it as it gave me my chance to relax like I wanted.

While walking I took my phone out of my coat pocket to change the song playing in my ears as it wasn't one I was feeling at the moment. Just as I looked down at my phone it was like I walked into a wall and all of a sudden I nearly fell backwards and my phone went crashing to the floor. It was clear to me that to top my bad day off I'd just walked into someone. I almost didn't want to look up and see the person who was probably going to yell at me but I did anyway. When I did look up I nearly fell over again as my eyes were met with probably the most attractive guy I've ever met so I cursed myself even more. The guy bent down and picked up my phone handing it back to me so I could see that it was completely smashed but luckily it still worked.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was going are you ok" I apologised

"I-it's ok" the guy replied with a very thick Spanish accent

"Are you ok?" He asked

"I'm fine but my phone not so much" I joked trying to make light of the situation

The guy laughed before signalling for someone else nearby to come over who he talked to in what I assume was Spanish while I just watched. I wasn't really sure if I was supposed to keep standing there but I did anyway as it's not like I understood what they were saying. To me it sounded like they were arguing but eventually they stopped talking and the other guy turned to face me.

"Hey I'm Ferran and this is Pablo he wants to invite you to watch the game later but he doesn't know how to say it" Ferran said

"It's nice to meet you both I'm y/n, I'd love to come to the game but only if it's no trouble I've already caused enough problems here today" I said

"It's not problem at all Pablo here would love to have you watch" Ferran said

"Then I'd love to" I replied

After agreeing to go to the game Pablo ran off and went to talk to someone else and when he came back he handed me a ticket to the game which when I glanced at seemed to be a vip ticket. He then managed to ask me to meet him after the game and Ferran told me just to show my ticket and give the security my name and they would let me in. With that they both ran off towards the stadium and I was left completely shocked and confused as to what just happened. It felt like a fever dream but it was definitely real life and now I had about an hour and a half before I was supposed to be going to a football game. Luckily that is enough time to go home and get changed and hopefully do some research on this game as I know very little about football.

Gavi's POV

Before any game I go through the same routine but tonight that routine has gone out the window. On the way into the stadium someone walked into me which usually would be a bit annoying but I would just move on but when I looked at who walked into me I saw the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. In that moment I decided that I couldn't just let her leave for me never to see her again so I invited her to the game or well Ferran did as I didn't know how to say it in English. The fact that I couldn't talk to her is exactly why my routine has changed as I need to learn as much English as possible before I see her after the game.

Most of the guys only speak Spanish but some have played over here and know some English so I begged them to teach me some English. Of course everyone laughed at me that all it took was a girl to finally make me learn English but eventually they agreed to help me after I told them she would be coming to the game later. To start with they were teaching me things that I won't be using later and I know not to use them as they were giggling as they taught me the words which means they are things that will either make me look like a weirdo or make her hate me. Once they had their fun they started to take things seriously and taught me basic sentences to use. it was hard to learn a language so quickly but I wrote some of them down on my phone just in case I forget. Even during warm up I kept practicing to make sure I don't make a fool of myself.

Instead of focusing on the game like I should be during warm up I also looked around the stadium to see if y/n had actually turned up. I mean I wouldn't blame her if she didn't show up as she clearly didn't know who I was so to her it was just some random guy inviting her to a game. As warm up went on I was starting to think she wouldn't show up when I couldn't see her but right before we went back down the tunnel I saw her walk in and start looking around. Knowing she actually came gave me even more motivation to win this game and impress her.

Your POV

I pretty much ran home to put on a nicer outfit before heading straight back out to go to the stadium. I have never been to a football match before mainly because I don't have much of an interest in the sport but when you get invited to a game by a very attractive guy you just have to go so that's exactly what I did. On my walk back to the stadium I tried looking up a bit about the game and I found out that it's the second leg of this game and that currently the score is 2-2 draw which means either team has a chance of making it. Living in Manchester I know a bit about the united team but I know next to nothing about Barcelona so I focused my search on them.

When looking at the Barcelona players I almost dropped my phone out of pure shock. Right in front of me listed as one of the players was Pablo and Ferran. When I googled him I only got more flustered as he is my age and has already played in the World Cup and won trophies for how talented he is. All of a sudden I felt really stupid that I'd just so casually spoken to such a famous footballer without having any clue who he was. As much as it's embarrassing I clearly didn't make an awful impression as he still invited me to watch the game so I need to put it behind me and just try not to make more of a fool of myself.

It took me forever to find the entrance I was supposed to go in once I made it to the stadium but eventually I found my way into the stadium but then I had to find my seat which involved a lot of walking back and forth but once I reached the right section it was easy to find my seat. As I sat down I noticed the players heading back in from the pitch from what I assume was their warm up. I didn't see Pablo but I knew he would have been out there as he was named in the starting line up. With the few minutes I had before the match started I spent my time trying to use google translate to learn a bit of Spanish as Pablo only speaks Spanish so I want to be able to talk to him after the game. Of course I know that everything might not be incredibly accurate but anything is better than nothing and I'm sure he will understand most of what I say.

Soon enough the game started and Barcelona got off to a great start by scoring a penalty putting them ahead overall. The first half ended with the same score but once the second half kicked off it only took a few minutes for Manchester United to score making things level again. From then the match was hard to watch as Barcelona were really struggling and eventually the inevitable happened Man Utd scored their second goal putting them ahead with about 15 minutes left. I really hoped that Barcelona could bring it back but they just couldn't get close enough and the game ended with Man Utd making it through to the next round and Barcelona being left disappointed. As much as I'd only been invested in this matched for a few hours I still felt awful for the whole team but especially Pablo as I could see the disappointment on his face from my seat.

I stayed sat in the stands for a few minutes deciding whether Pablo would even want to still see me after the game but in the end I just decided to go for it as if I don't I'm never going to see him again and if things go wrong then the same applies. Heading through the stadium and to the areas that most people will never see felt so wrong but I kept going until some security stopped me so I did what Ferran told me to do and they let me right through and even told me where to go. It felt so weird to be walking down the tunnel with loads of players standing around I just felt so out of place as I'm just a normal university student that has nothing to do with football whatsoever. I stood outside of the away teams locker room looking at my home until someone spoke to me which nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"Hey" Pablo said

"Hi I'm sorry you lost you played really well though" I said

"Thank you" he replied

He seemed to have learnt some English as he was able to ask me some questions as we got to know each other a bit while just stood in the hallway. I expected him to be quite full of himself as he's an attractive famous footballer but he was so down to earth and incredibly sweet that I kind of forgot who I was talking to. I was surprised after earlier that he was able to speak quite well on occasion we had a bit of trouble but google translate helped with that. At some point he had to head back to the hotel but before leaving he asked for my number and asked me if I would join him for breakfast in the morning before he leaves. Of course I agreed but once I was alone again I wondered how I managed to get myself into this situation.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe you made everyone teach you English just so you could speak to me" I laughed

"Well what else was I supposed to do you were way too beautiful for me to just let you go I had to do something" Pablo defended himself

"It was worth it though wasn't it?" He asked

"Oh definitely I'll forever be grateful to your teammates for helping you talk to me because now I have the best husband in the world" I said

"And I have an even better wife" he said trying to make me blush and succeeding

So much has changed since the day we first met and honestly I'm not sure I know how it all happened but I'm incredibly grateful that it did. Since meeting Pablo my life has only gotten better everyday and now that we are married I couldn't be happier. The road to get here wasn't easy but we have gone through it all together and I hope we will continue to do so for the rest of our lives.

#pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #gavi imagines #gavi imagine #gavi #football imagine #gavi x reader

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little-red-fool · 10 months ago

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OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing—instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

#asks #art tips

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asinfullangel · 1 year ago

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- Red

Red is always a quiet trainer and hard to find whenever he isn’t with Blue (since someone always seems to do all the talking). At least the most likely place to find Red would be on mountain tops and preferably ones with snow… But it was not hard for Lance to find that flyby treat chilled to the touch or with Blue and ready to join him inside his gut. (Though since I’m using wormholes strangely for these mini stories, let's continue on with the concept). [insert finger snap here]

Red was where he is normally, up in those chilly mountains, in wait for the next challenger. Unphased by the weather he passes the time by texting Blue about any new trainers starting their adventure this season though the sound of heavy wind all round blocked out the sounds of someone’s arrival… Coming into view was himself yet pixel looking as if he came from an old game. Whatever the [baa] was happening here- [classic trainer Red challenge trainer Red]. Both Red(s) send out Charizard, then Blastoise, afterward Pikachu and [insert the rest here one by one order] till each trainer had one pokemon left on the field with low health. Classic Red with a Espeon and Red with a Lapras, both trainers had their next attack ready and… (give me a moment to calculate the chances, make a few rolls, carry the 1 and maybe review those rule books…)

[Classic trainer Red wins] We have our winner and look like he is celebrating (hopefully that isn’t his movement animation, otherwise someone needs to add more to his victory animation). Red was left with a fainted party and they are in need of reviving, down he goes. (Que in Lance right about-) Red a few blocks away from the closest pokemon-center before someone snatch him away from the path. All that was heard from the bushes were muffled yelling, wet gulps and pokeballs dropping to the ground to finish the orchestra with a ringing burp then wet splat by Red’s saliva covered hat. Lance made a snack out of Red and his clothing lay beside his pokeballs. Lance had a meal and luckily a nice spot to nap right where he sat. Belly exposed from his shirt to freely rub as Lance gets comfortable against a tree to nap away some time (and his snack). Red will just have to visit Lance later to pick up his Pokemon and spare him from having him join Lance for lunch or dinner.

Classic Red eventually was dragged back through a wormhole to his reality to his snow mountain.

#male vore #male pred #Lance’s menu #by me

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misty-zzz · 1 year ago

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fate of the stars - a one shot

(title totally not inspired by tally hall, wdym??)

anyways this is kinda what I imagined happened before the continent split hahaha

The stars aligned beautifully. It’s the month of February, the month of the fires. The continent, filled with all the monsters, partied with joy.

Above in the stars, the celestials stayed. They lived on top of the star henge. A Furnoss named Flair, representing the fire element, was rusty and old. The fire element itself was falling apart. All that he wished for right now was for the fire monsters to stay on the continent, for it was the safest for them. Even if it couldn’t prevent them from falling down.

“You seem… worried Flair.” Sparks, the monster of electricity, says. “I’m just slowing down,” said Flair, slowly. “The fire element, it’s slowly disappearing, isn’t it..?” Asked Sparks. Flair nods, “I tried to tell Bite’ the cold might have something to do with it. But he insisted that he can’t do anything about it.”

“I hope the weather warms up soon. Isn’t like we can control it.” Sparks walks off, “But if they were to fall… then star henge might too.” The idea of that scared both of them. Flair hoped upon the stars this wouldn’t be the case.

Flair breathes out heavily, black smoke fogging his vision. He coughs, moving the smoke away. He decides to visit the observatory, checking on the stars. He looks up into the stars, in the big black ink. Stars aligned to form a flame. The final star, finishing the constellation, started to fade.

The star flickered, then disappeared. “No!” Flair yells. He hits his fist on the side of the observatory, hurting it. Tears of lava filled his eyes. Sparks sees the fire monster crying, “What, what happened?” She runs to him. “The stars, their fading as well.” He falls on his knees. Sparks’ faces fade into horror. “That’s, that’s impossible! Those stars have been there forever, like us! They can’t fade away, unless…” she finally realized. If furnoss is fading away, so will the stars.

“Oh my colossals. But we can’t die! We’ve been alive for thousands, millions of years! They never said we were capable of dying, they said the opposite!” She panicked, it could happen to all of them.

“What is going on, Sparks?”

“Viney, sister! I have absolutely no idea. But Flair…” Viney, the Scaratar, was just as confused as Spark. Furnoss was now laying on the ground. “Flair,” she bends down, and picks his head up. “We all know you’ve been slowing down, but I’m not sure about this. I think Rocky might be able to help.”

Sparks and Viney find Rocky, a Torrt.

“Really? I mean Flair is slowing down, but can he really die?” Rocky looks over at Flair, who is now being visited by Ink, the Loodvigg. “Although, if I can remember, they did tell me something that might help at the moment.” They move over to Flair and Ink.

“Maybe you’re sick..?” Ink tried to make excuses, anything besides death. Ink puts the back of his hands on Flair’s cheek. “Warm as ever…” Ink seemed disappointed. “Rocky is here to hopefully help!” Rocky yells. “Oh great, it’s Rocky…” Rocky and Ink had somewhat of a rivalry, nothing too serious just they didn’t exactly like each other.

“They showed me how to do this like, once, but not really ever again…” Rocky tries to remember what to do. “Ok, I remember now but… The thing is this will turn you into, well, stone. It will restart your life. I think it would be best for all of us to do this, what is happening to Flair will eventually happen to us…”

Flair understands, and nods. “I think we should wait a little longer…” said Flair. Rocky agrees.

“Why did you not take the offer?” Asks Ink. “I just need some time to think about it.”

“Just don’t drop dead soon, I wouldn't want that to happen to you.” Ink watches Flair walk across the star henge, shaking with every breath. Flair reaches ‘Bite, a Glashuir.

“Ya alright Flair?” ‘Bite catches him as he almost falls down. “Man, I really hope this cold isn’t killing your monsters, or you either… Of course I don’t think that’s the case here, but it’s a possibility.” ‘Bite helps Flair sit down, with his wobbly legs. Flair’s neck looks as if it has died. He breathes out a heavy sigh, yet with more of that black smoke. “Hey, hey, breathe.” The glaishur holds out his hands. Flair tries to breathe, hard for his old body.

Even with his hair in the way, ‘Bite looked at Flair sorely. He draws out a triangle, and creates a piece of ice to chew, it’s what he does when he’s nervous. “Ah, well, I think you need some rest for now, we all do.” He suggested. Flair agrees.

The sun rises, the sky now ombré. The nearby blassoom crows to tell it’s the sunrise. Causing sparks to wake up, “Spring, I’m not in the mood for early morning squawks.” She yawns. The other celestials start to come back to life, yawns and eye rubs all around. Immediately, ‘Bite went to ask furnoss, “Are you feeling any better..?” He puts their hand on his neck. Furnoss’ eyes turn over to the cold monster, “I’m doing fine,” he inhales carefully. ‘Bite’s fingers feels the flaky skin on the back of his neck. “Fire monsters are known for their great immune systems, considering? The heat helps fight viruses. Which is also why I’m always sick.” ‘Bite informs, “sorry,” he feels embarrassed. “No, no, it’s quite interesting.” Assures Flair. ‘Bite smiled at this. The furnoss coughs. The both sighed.

Ink crawls up, “You don’t have to lie, if you’re feeling bad, just say so.” Flair seemed a bit shocked, “I’ll be fine.” He says, trying to have a tough persona. His joints start to squeak, as if he was a tin man. Speaking of Tins, the celestial of mech waltz up. His joints have been squeaking for a while now, but he’s practically a robot. “Finally, someone here can relate, squeaky bones, huh?” Tin jabs flair. “It feels awful…” flair flexes his wrist, hurting like hell. “It takes awhile to get used to.”

“Yes, I bet, but I’m not like you. You’re all mechanical and stuff, I’m an organic creature. We don’t need to ” Flair looks at the now swelling wrist. “Let’s just just look at the telescope.” He dreadaly walks toward the center of the star henge. Staring through it, the stars felt farther away, fading ever so slightly. He sighs, more of the black smoke. His body felt weak, he just sat there. Eventually his fate will come. His raggedy face points at the sky. “Well, it’s probably bad.” Ink puts his hand on Flair's shoulder. “If I die,” he starts speaking, “then get rocky, do that magic spell thingie, I don't want you to experience this pain.” Those few sentences scared ink. “You’re not going to die! We don’t need Rocky!” Ink jumps back.

Flair shakes his head. He knew what was to come. Ink drops his hands. Eventually, something will happen. The star henge notably was becoming slower, viney practically live on the outer part of it, and it felt slower than usual.

A few more hours pass. Furnoss lays there. His head was placed on the cold brick of the floor. He felt worse. He closes his eyes, imagining, what will happen next. Eventually he stands up. Legs had a sharp pain, immediately he dropped back down. “Augh, just let me die,” he mumbles. Flairs body felt icky, he doesn’t want to feel this anymore.

He takes a breathe, one last look at the sky, one more of all of his friends. They’d be sad, hell, even dysfunctional without him. Exhales, black smoke. Closing his eyes, he collapsed. An unconscious furnoss laid on the ground. Rather than asleep, or passed out, this time his heart rate had gone. The skin become cold, colder than the bricks, and almost as cold as glaishur. The remaining swarm him. What will they do?

#Sorry guys I went insane #msm #my singing monsters #MSM au #one shot #fanfic #my fic #fan fiction #writing #writblr #Random one shot #First one shot #Woohoo #anyways enjoy #Dw furnoss is fine 😘

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livythewriter · 5 months ago

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Grumpy (Elsbeth x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 715

Warnings: Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, slight yelling, very sad, sad Elsbeth, mentions of bullying, very mild profanity.

Summary: Elsbeth is grumpier than usual and Reader wants to know why

I came home from work after a long, tiring day, excited to see Elsbeth. When I called out for her, though, I didn’t get a response. I assumed she was out doing something, so I went up to my room, only to see her sitting on my bed, watching a documentary. Something about her was just off, like she was gloomier than usual.

I sat down on the bed next to her, but she didn’t acknowledge my presence, which really worried me, “Hey Elsbeth, you alright?”

“Mhm.” Was all she said.

“You sure.” I asked.

“Yes. I’m alright.” She said, and I could have sworn she even seethed a little as she said it.

“Alright…” I decided not to press further, but couldn’t stop worrying as I watched the show. And every now and then, I would hear her sigh, or huff, for no apparent reason.

In the middle of the documentary, she got up and practically stomped to the bathroom. I waited for her to come back, and eventually she did, somehow seeming even grumpier than before.

“Hey grumpy, you wanna cuddle?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. All I got was a grunt in return. I sighed, “Alright, what’s wrong? I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“I said, I’m okay.” Her tone had a cold edge to it.

I pursed my lips, “I don’t think you’re okay. You can talk to me, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you want a hug, would that help you feel better?” I held out my arms for a hug.

“I already said, I’m fine!” She snapped. But as she looked over at me, there was no sharpness in her eyes, her voice wavered as she spoke, and her eyes were glossy with tears.

“Oh, Elsbeth, what happened?” I asked.

Elsbeth began to break down into sobs, her body shaking, “S-Somebody said my outfit was hideous and that I dress like I’m colorblind.” She practically wailed, her face contorting in a painfully sad way.

“Elsie, why would you care about that?” I asked softly, putting a hand on her arm, “You don’t usually care about what other people have to think.”

She sniffled, “It was someone I really cared about, a new friend I made. I thought they were nice, I thought they were different, but it turns out they’re just judging me like everybody else!” She sobbed.

“Oh honey, that person isn’t someone you want to be around anyway. They sound like a douche, and I love your fashion. Boring people are gonna judge what they deem to be ‘weird.’ Somebody called me a freak because of the shirt I was wearing, but their opinions don’t matter. The only opinion that matters is your own. What do you think of your clothes?” I asked.

“I d-dunno… I used to like them, but now I’m questioning if I even should.”

“Well, if it helps, I think your fashion sense is amazing. It’s one of the things that makes you, you. And I never want you to change just to conform.” I smiled reassuringly at her, “I just want you to keep being your amazing quirky self. You have saved so many people with your unique talents, and my heart would be broken if you started stifling yourself just because others think you’re ‘weird.’ Now, do you need a hug?”

She nodded, and practically tackled me into a tight hug, sniffling and sobbing quietly into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. “It’s okay, Elsbeth… if you can, report that person to Wagner, hopefully they’ll get in trouble.”

She nodded, gripping the back of my shirt tightly with her hands, but starting to calm down. “Thank you…”

“You’re the light of my life, I would do anything for you.” I pulled back, brushing hair out of her face.

She smiled tearfully at me, “You’re the light of my life too…”

I kissed her gently on the lips, “I love seeing you smile.”

This caused her to grin, “Well, I’ll be doing a lot of that around you…”

“You wanna watch a horror movie?” I asked.

She nodded, and I put on her favorite horror movie, and we spent the rest of the night chatting and laughing while watching it.

#x reader #elsbeth #elsbeth tascioni x reader #elsbeth x reader #elsbeth cbs #elsbeth tascioni

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thetomorrowshow · 1 year ago

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hubris killed the god - ch 5

first part

cw: apocalypse setting, talk of death

The crew that leaves is Scott, Jimmy, False, Shelby, and Katherine, leaving fWhip and Gem behind (though to be fair, both fWhip and Gem volunteer to stay behind, despite Jimmy clearly wanting at least one of them to come along in place of Scott).

The whole trip, Jimmy ignores Scott—and to be fair, Scott doesn’t make any extra effort to get in his way. Their fight of the previous week clearly hasn’t left either of their minds.

Scott’s not entirely sure what had changed Jimmy’s mind—if he’d just been looking to avoid another fight, or if he’d realized he was wrong at some point. Whatever it was, Scott isn’t going to argue any further. He’s just happy that Jimmy let him come along.

Also, the airship probably isn’t the best place for a fight like they’d had last week. Scott shudders as he pictures Jimmy shoving him again, the two of them clearing the railing entirely and being dead on impact with the ground.

Hopefully dead on impact. If he’s going to die, Scott doesn’t want to feel the mites tearing him apart as he does.

Pix’s land isn’t too far away—not nearly as far as Stratos had been. They arrive after maybe half an hour, hovering over the grand gate that leads to the catacombs.

“All right, you know the plan!” Jimmy hollers over the sound of fans and gears droning. “I take point, Shelby’s got the rear. Katherine behind me. Scott in the middle to keep eyes around. We go in, we get out quick! Got it?”

“And look for coal!” calls False from the stern. Jimmy acknowledges with a wave of his hand, then heaves himself over the railing and onto the rolled-out ladder.

The mites are swarming around below, but they watch as Jimmy draws his pistol and fires an echoing shot below him, scattering the ones directly below him. For a moment, wind catches the ladder and it sways—Jimmy’s one-handed hold is looking pretty loose—but before any of them can shout for him, Jimmy jumps the rest of the way down, landing hard on the ground and firing off another shot.

It’s Scott’s turn next, and he can’t afford to take a moment to feel nervous about it. Jimmy’s down there, howling at the top of his lungs, trying to keep hordes of plaguelings away. He needs help, and Scott just so happens to have a magical eye that repulses evil.

The wind is roaring in his ears and terrifying as he clambers down the rope ladder, it swinging and curling below him while his shovel knocks against his leg. But Scott bites his lip and holds on tight, taking it one shaky step at a time as he climbs.

Eventually, his feet hit solid ground (his knees shake and he nearly falls, but he finds his footing after a precarious moment), and he pulls his shovel from his belt and starts beating at the dirt before he even has a chance to get his legs steady. The mites scurry away from the force, or go still and slowly move away under his gaze, and he casts his eyes around, trying to keep them spooked long enough to stay a good meter away (and hitting with his shovel when they get too close). Jimmy’s still yelling and stomping his feet, and Katherine swings down and joins in.

Once Shelby joins them, Jimmy (still shouting nonsense) leads the way in, shoving at the looming, sealed stone doors until one of them starts to give. Katherine joins him, and with their combined strength, they force one of the doors to scrape open wide enough for them to squeeze through.

It’s a tight fit—and Scott doesn’t like that there are mites on the doors, that could drop down on him as he’s going in, so he pulls up his coat above his head and shimmies through—but it works well enough, and soon all four of them are within the catacombs.

The air within is like a cool breeze washing over them, out of the sun, yet stuffy—but Scott hardly notices it while his eyes adjust to the dark. The crack of the door casts little light within the hollowed out hall, and they all stand there for several long moments (Scott keeps an eye on the door, glaring at any mites that dare shuffle around the corner) while Jimmy strikes a match and lights the torch that he’d strapped to his hip.

Scott lets his coat slide back down from his head to settle on his shoulders again. He’s already starting to have second thoughts, something about the darkness unsettling his stomach. He swallows a couple of times, making sure that he isn’t going to throw up.

It’s tough to see the roughly-hewn stone, even with Jimmy’s torch. The light barely reaches the walls, and Scott can just make out the lumpy shapes of sconces at fixed intervals to light up the place the way Pix always had it. It would’ve been nice if they’d been able to bring as many torches as could fill those—then maybe it would feel less spooky, less . . . off.

In addition to the disconcerting darkness, it feels like they’re in a holy place, and no one speaks while they pass between pillars to reach the main staircase.

Scott’s been in plenty of holy places, and in each one, there’s a certain quality to the air—maybe the way the dust hangs in unnatural stillness, or the stale scent that brings to mind churches and private places of worship. Something that feels as if it would be unwise to disturb it, whether because of the god that watches over it, or because of whatever lies within.

In this case, it could be either, he observes, as Jimmy’s torchlight passes over a painting of a goddess.

Peril, the plaque beneath it reads. Scott only catches a glimpse of the painting as he passes, but she seems stern, stone-like, forbidding.

She seems like an omen.

With every dark hallway and tomb they pass, Scott’s heart sinks lower and lower. If Pix were here, surely he’d have lit the place up, shown some sign of life.

There’s nothing, though. No lit torches, dust settled on the few seats they pass and layered thick on the ground. And the further in they get, the lower the chances are that Pix is somehow still here.

Jimmy’s growing antsy, too. Every room he shines his torch into, he sighs louder, his steps sounding more and more like stomps.

Scott doesn’t dare suggest they turn back, even as the tombs go on and on. He’s not sure how Jimmy’s navigating them, or if he’s navigating at all, so he looks up at him after a moment to see that he has chalk, and is marking each turn they take.

Scott turns his eyes back to the floor, scanning each cranny they pass for any mites that could be hiding in the darkness. The silence feels heavy, weighing down on his shoulders, and he’s assaulted with the image of Martina in the inn, her limp llama form already being torn apart by the mites.

If Pix is down here, what condition will they find him in? Will he be partially decayed, mites crawling around him? Will there be anything left?

Scott shakes himself. There aren’t any mites in here. Well, now there may be, now that they’ve opened the door, but if Pix is here, there can’t be mites. They haven’t encountered any yet, have they? If they were already in here, they would’ve seen one.

Right?

And then, almost before he notices, they’re in the main (and final) chamber.

It’s dark. It’s silent. The torchlight doesn’t fill the entire room, leaving the edges of the room in darkness. The can’t see the walls, they can’t see the ceiling. They can’t see any signs of life.

What they can see is some crypts, inscribed with weathered words in a language Scott doesn’t recognize. A couple of barrels here and there, mostly empty, one or two with shovels or similar excavation tools. A sheet here, a bucket there.

No Pix. This is clearly where he’d been working before everything went down, but he isn’t here.

With a couple of gestures, Jimmy directs them all to various corners of the room to search, despite the futility of it. Scott heads off to his left, feeling along one of the crypts, his fingers digging into the dusty grooves of the lettering.

There’s nothing in his corner. It’s bare, but for a cobweb and more dust. He kicks at the dust, watches idly as it puffs up in a little cloud.

There’s a short shriek behind him, a clattering sound—Scott whips around—Katherine’s leapt back from her corner and knocked over a barrel, her axe raised, eyes focused on a spot on the floor.

“There’s a mite here,” she calls to them when everyone looks to her. “I don’t know if it was already here or if it followed us in. We should go.”

Jimmy nods sharply, heads to the door. Scott falls into line behind him, trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. If the mites are already in here—

Jimmy leaves without waiting for Katherine and Shelby to join them, and Scott can’t hang back because Jimmy’s going forward and Scott has to watch out for mites in his path. They aren’t far behind, so he’s confident that they’ll be able to catch up. After all, they can handle themselves for a couple of seconds.

If they’d waited, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe Scott would have noticed something was off, because he caught sight of some movement on the ceiling but assumed it was just the torchlight flickering as Jimmy hurried down the hallway and up the first flight of stairs.

But now, in an attempt to not let Jimmy get too far ahead, he ignores whatever he’d seen on the ceiling. And when the girls shout behind him, he knows instantly that he should’ve looked closer.

Scott whips around to see his worst nightmare.

It’s Shelby, and there’s a mite on her cheek.

And a mite on her hat.

And a mite on her hand.

And she’s yelling and trying to shake off the mites, and Katherine’s screaming and circling her to try and fend off any others, and the sick feeling that’s been growing in Scott’s stomach this whole time rises to his throat and he nearly vomits.

It’s certain death. There’s no way to survive this plague, and Shelby’s covered in those things and there’s no way to help her and she’s going to die, she’s going to die, she’s going to die—

“Just run!” Jimmy roars, and Scott can’t stay. There’s more of them, the plague dripping from the ceiling and spreading across the walls and Shelby’s going to die and there’s nothing he can do.

Scott pulls the collar of his coat up over his head and runs for it.

The mites scatter from their feet, and all Scott can hear is the pounding of his blood in his ears and all he can feel is his feet slamming against stone, but he keeps pushing, up flights of stairs and down hallways, his eyes on the ground to try and keep it clear. He doesn’t know if Shelby and Katherine are following. He doesn’t know if Jimmy’s still in front of him. He just knows he has to get out.

Something light bounces off his coat over his head and Scott swears in a voice that comes out as more of a shriek than a mutter, as intended. He doesn’t stop running, though, even as each breath tears from his lungs and his legs start to feel like jelly.

And finally, blessedly, he hits the door.

There’s more mites than he’s ever seen in his life swarming around the door, piled up upon each other as they scramble to explore this new place. Scott screams at them, wordless and random, stomping and glaring and swinging with his shovel, until their piles fall apart and scatter and he has a path through.

He can hear other screams, somebody beating something metal against the wall with a repeated, deafening clanging noise that sends Scott’s head spinning and his ears ringing. He squeezes his way out the door, doing his best to shove the door open a bit wider in the process, and finally is free in the open air.

Jimmy’s right there, and the sound is him slamming his pistol against the outer wall as he shouts, making a small clearing in the sea of blackness that surrounds them. Scott spins around, too fast, he’s dizzy he’s going to be sick, casting his eyes on every mite he can to incite them to pull away.

The ladder drops in front of him and Jimmy, still yelling, shoves his pistol into his waistband and starts climbing.

Scott tells himself, frantically, that he’s going to wait for Katherine and Shelby as long as he can. He and Jimmy left them back there, they didn’t wait, and because they didn’t wait they lost one of their number.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Within the minute, Shelby exits the catacombs, bereft of her witch hat and her face red with tears. Katherine’s right behind her, and she helps Shelby onto the rope ladder before climbing up herself.

Scott waits until they’re both fully onto the airship, then steels himself. His legs already feel so terribly weak; he isn’t sure that he can make it all the way up.

Well. It’s either make it, or die here.

Scott starts climbing.

His determination is strong, but even so, his legs nearly give out before he reaches the top. When that happens, he just wraps his arms all the way around the ladder and moves slower, shimmying himself up.

He rolls over the railing, onto the deck and out of the way, ready for Katherine to pull the ladder up. Scott shrugs out of his coat, the sun beating down on his back and head.

His ears are still ringing, his head aching, his limbs trembling. He still feels like one wrong move could cause him to lose his breakfast. He still feels like he just wants to sit down and sob.

Scott doesn’t have time for that, though.

He shakes out his coat to find nothing, twists around to check his back just in case. It doesn’t look like he made any skin contact with a mite. He needs to invest in a pair of gloves, though—he’d been hit by the horrifying thought halfway up the ladder that there could be a mite sitting on his shoulder, and he’d have no way to get it off without infecting himself.

There’s a conversation going on around him, he realizes as his ears abruptly stop ringing, yelled over the sound of the airship.

“—okay, we’re right here with you,” Jimmy’s shouting, and Scott turns to see him holding Shelby’s hands as she shudders with barely-contained sobs.

Shelby says something Scott can’t hear, and Jimmy’s face twists. He pulls her close to his chest, wraps her in a hug.

That’s his friend. Shelby is Scott’s friend, and she’s hurting, and she’s going to die soon.

Scott takes a few shaky steps over to her, waiting for her to open her eyes and notice him—and when she does, she reaches out with one of her arms, pulling him into the hug with Jimmy.

“I’m sorry,” Shelby croaks into his ear, and Scott just hugs her tighter.

The ride back is quiet. Shelby sits on the deck, back up against the railing, chin on her knees as she stares at nothing. Katherine paces, back and forth from the stern to the bow, casting anxious glances toward Shelby and Scott.

Jimmy disappears belowdecks, after giving each of them a hug—nothing huge, just a quick slap on the back. Scott leans on the railing at the bow, gazing out over the land.

The worst part is, Jimmy was right.

He was right. Scott had just begun to assume that of course Pix would be there. Of course they would be able to rescue him. And he’d thought, at the time, that even if Pix wasn’t there, it would be worth it just to try (and yet, he was so certain that Pix would be there that it didn’t even matter).

And here they are, with a light pink mark on Shelby’s face and another on her hand, denoting exactly where death had marked her.

Jimmy was right, and he isn’t even doing anything about it.

He’s changed since the apocalypse, Scott thinks. In the past, he imagines Jimmy would be glaring at them all, muttering “I told you so”s and just generally being obnoxious about being right.

In fact, Scott would honestly find it easier to deal with than this silence. He can handle Jimmy being a bit stuck-up and full of himself. He knows that side of Jimmy, he knows what to expect.

No Pix, Scott remembers suddenly with a pang. No sign of him whatsoever. The catacombs had been sealed well enough that until they got there, there’d only been one or two mites in the place total. Had Pix sealed it from the outside, trying to preserve the history within? That sounds like something stupid and self-sacrificing the man would do in the name of history.

And there wasn’t any coal either, Scott realizes with a start. They’d gone in there to save Pix and collect coal, and they hadn’t completed either objective.

The sick feeling he’s had since they entered the catacombs increases just slightly. This was a terrible idea. They’ve lost—they’ve lost another trip in the flying machine, wasted on nothing. False had said that the coal they found in Stratos was enough for a handful of flights, and now one of those limited flights has been used up on nothing.

And Shelby, a pointless sacrifice that he had foolishly thought worth it.

Scott slides down to sit on the deck, burying his face in his knees. His eyes are burning at the corners, and he thinks it isn’t exactly because of the wind.

It’s his fault. He riled everyone up, he fought with Jimmy, he insisted that they look for Pix. It’s all his fault that Shelby is dying.

For a moment, with frightening clarity that bubbles up in his chest like a sob, Scott wonders if this is how Jimmy feels.

In a greater sense, this whole thing is Jimmy’s fault. It was Jimmy’s rash actions and anger that had caused the apocalypse, killed thousands of people, ended the world.

And maybe it’s just because Scott doesn’t have time to process anything, he hasn’t had time, he’s never going to have time, but he’s not all that mad at Jimmy right now. If they can work out an impossible escape, and somehow find peace and time to process and heal, then he’d be mad.

But at this point, Scott’s not sure that he would call for punishment. He doesn’t think that he could ever be friends with Jimmy again, but. . . .

He’d really rather forget everything that happened here. Move on.

He’d rather everyone forget about his own terrible decision.

Scott sits there, wind pulling his hair every which way, face tucked into his knees, until they arrive. He tries not to think. He tries not to let his heart break over and over again. He just sits there and breathes and ignores the smarting of his eyes.

Somehow, Scott’s the only one who thinks to tell Sausage that they’re back, and the only one to tell him of Shelby’s condition.

Everyone else tells fWhip and Gem, then heads off in their separate directions—to bed, to patrol, to find a quiet place to cry—whatever it is they do.

Sausage doesn’t take it well, exactly, but where fWhip had cried and Gem had hugged Shelby, Sausage’s face hardens with determination and he starts . . . something.

He opens up a compartment in the back of the altar, draws from it a line of beads—pearls, probably—from which a moon hangs. He sets that on the altar, then pulls out the next thing—a well-preserved sunflower head. Last of all, a tiny little cylindrical container, gleaming gold, that he lays beside the other two items.

“Tell Shelby to come in here. And to bring whatever she uses for her magic,” Sausage instructs, stricter than Scott’s ever heard. And Scott, of course, obeys, turning on his heel and marching right out of the chapel.

fWhip insists on coming too, and then Gem, and then Katherine, so they all follow Scott and Shelby into the chapel, where Sausage is now piling as many pillows as he can onto a table behind the altar.

“Sausage, what’s going on?” Shelby asks wearily, leaning against the altar. “It’s—I’m—I’m d-dead, all right? Don’t try to save me, focus your energy on everyone else.”

“I think I can do something, though,” Sausage declares, and he pats the makeshift bed he’s made on the table. “See, my magic has been keeping the darkness away. And your magic kind of works to keep you safe, right? So I’ve been thinking—just in case, I didn’t plan for anyone to get hurt or anything—that we could try and combine our magic and see what happens!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, from Scott’s point of view. What happens if their magics hate each other? What happens if the combination ends up exploding in ways both literal and not?

But Shelby stills, tilts her head, considering. She scratches absently (not that Scott knows it’s absent scratching, if it were him he’d be overly aware) at the tiny pink splotch on her cheek.

“We can try,” she says slowly. “I mean, I’m already gone. We might as well, right? And it could be kind of fun.”

“Wait, could this actually work?” Gem asks, pushing past Scott to stand directly in front of Sausage. “Could you—if you and Shelby worked together, could you save other people, too?”

As opposed to the moment before, Sausage looks rather unsure of himself, rocking back on his heels and chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Um, maybe! And it can’t hurt to try, mostly. Otherwise I wouldn’t even suggest it, if it could hurt someone.”

He’s sure Sausage didn’t mean to address that statement toward anyone, but Scott feels a pang in his chest at those words. He’d fought to go look for Pix, knowing full well that someone could get hurt. And someone did.

“Then by all means, let’s do it!” fWhip declares, bouncing in place, and Scott can’t stand it.

He doesn’t want hope. He doesn’t want to get excited about the possibility of his friend being okay, because if it doesn’t work then it’ll be like she’s dying all over again.

Scott knows they need to try. He knows that this is a possible fix, not just for Shelby, but for everyone. He knows that there’s hope here.

But there are already far too many bottled-up emotions shoved into the deepest corner of his chest, and the lid is barely staying on the bottle. Opening it up to add hope would send all those other nasty, grieving feelings flying into everything.

So, instead of joining the excited chatter and helping Shelby get comfortable on the table there (where she’ll apparently be spending a lot of time), Scott quietly slips out.

That night, he stays in his room in the inn, instead of heading for the pew where he normally sleeps in the chapel.

That night, Scott barely sleeps at all.

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dragonmasterhiccup · 1 month ago

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Hearing him say 'young love' brought Freya to a still, blinking down at her hands as she silently fought against the urge to stand closer to him again. She did not like how quickly her face could get red now - and it was all thanks to Hiccup...and his words. "Yeah, hopefully... that's all they say.."

Rolling her eyes at his comment, she couldn't stop the growing smile on her lips,

'Dork..'

----------

Holding back from sighing, Freya rested her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning on the table that she and her little sister were using. Boredom was practically glowing from her features, internally wanting to help out in the forge and not be a distraction to Ayla so she wouldn't say anything out of line. That, and she could stand next to Hiccup again...or at least talk to him.

Ayla seemed on top of the world, though, speaking non-stop about how cool she'd look with her new helmet and saddle combined on her 'very awesome' future dragon. At some point, it all went ignored when she never stopped talking. She wondered how Gobber was able to deal with that..even if it was for a couple of minutes. She'd usually chatter like that to their mother, something they both had in common.

Sooner or later, her thoughts wandered off onto, none other than, Hiccup. She wasn't so sure if she was completely fine with that...but she couldn't get the image of his eyes and hair out of her mind, practically his whole face, actually. Which was also something she didn't know if she was ready to accept. Finally giving in, she slowly began to glance over in his direction, only to see him abruptly cut himself - right on his hand.

Immediately, Freya straightened up, a worried expression taking over her features, "Hiccup!" Without another second wasted, she sprinted to where he stood, her only concern being on him. She glared at the sword for a moment as though it were the one to blame before delicately taking his wrist, carefully inspecting the cut on his hand, "Are you alright? How did this happen? Why in the world would you cut yourself!?" She winced at the sight of blood, already noticing the wound wasn't a paper cut in any way.

Usually, she'd avoid treating people with a lot of bloody injuries, but it was if all of her senses were consumed with making sure he was okay. So, she reached down to grab the cloth he had given her, snatching it out of the covering of her dagger before she attentively wrapped it around his hand. She remained silent for the most part, not wanting to yell on accident because of her fretting demeanor. However, at the thought of him being in pain, her brows furrowed in frustration, "You dork, why did you have to go and hurt yourself..?"

She didn't even hear Ayla's frightened questions of whether or not he'd be okay, making sure the cloth was securely tied around his hand while she took a step back. "You need to go to Gothi's..now. That wrapping is only until we get there because you are not walking around with an open, bleeding wound." Glimpsing over at Gobber, she hurriedly spoke: "We need to go, I'll make up for his lost time here today if I have to, but he needs to get this properly treated."

Freya turned to reassure her younger sister, quickly telling her to go back home while she went with Hiccup. Despite her brief complaints of wanting to come with them, she eventually listened and left the forge, glancing back at them both a few times as she went. Once she was out of sight, Freya whistled to get Blaze's attention, running towards him in urgency. Before she mounted him, however, her stern gaze found Hiccup yet again, "I'd tell you to come with me on Blaze but I don't think Toothless will enjoy being away from you while you're hurt like this."

She knew the Night Fury couldn't fly on his own either, so she only allowed him to do this just once. "Let's go, we need to figure out if you'll need stitches or not."

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

Much to her relief, Hiccup didn't need the stitches. Although it was a pretty bad cut, Gothi communicated to them that he would need to rest, allow it to heal, and apply the dreadful salve once in the morning and evening. She instructed that it'll take a few days, up to a week, for his hand to begin to fully heal, if he didn't do anything too drastic throughout that time.

Gothi was able to give him much more proper bandages, applying the necessary amount of salve to the wound before she wrapped it once more. Freya knew the feeling of having that spread over an injury, on her hand nonetheless, and she would've stayed inside with him while it happened, but Gothi motioned for her to step outside for that moment. As soon as the door reopened, she practically barged in, standing close in front of Hiccup as she examined the freshly cleaned and bandaged wound, still slightly upset at the sight of him being hurt.

Instead of allowing him to go to his hut, which she knew she should've let happen, Freya insisted that he come to hers instead, at least for now. She offered to make him something to eat, give him any other extra necessary herbs Yrsa might've had somewhere if Gothi didn't already, but she felt that there was something in her that wanted him around for other reasons. It took her a while to realize she wanted him close by because of his injury, not wanting to leave him alone purely due to her own worry.

She felt slightly guilty for keeping him away from his own hut, but there was a part of her that needed to be reassured that he was really okay, even if it was only a cut on his hand. As they came to a stop in front of her home, she glanced at Hiccup with concern vividly present in her eyes, "I'll make some porridge while Ayla can keep you company.." She rubbed Blaze's neck, silently letting him know she was...alright, for the most part, when he stared at her as though he knew something was wrong with her.

Dismounting the Sand Wraith, she quickly walked up the steps leading to the door of her hut, swiftly rushing to get a pot ready for the oats once she was inside. As soon as she did so, Ayla raced down the stairs, frantically bombarding Hiccup with her perturbed questions: "You're back! Are you okay? Did you need stitches!? How did you even cut yourself?"

He hadn't expected Freya to just...run to him, like she had... But then again, wouldn't he have done the same? Hadn't he, when she had cut her hand in the forest?

Teeth clenched, he hissed as she took his wrist to inspect his hand. The slight movement made it sting even more, but the cut probably looked worse than it actually was.

Exhaling, he said flatly, "I didn't do this on purpose, Fey. Got... distracted... Dumb mistake..." Squeezing his eyes shut, he inwardly groaned.

He was an experienced smithy, something like this should never have happened.

"I'll be fine, I've...I've had worse injuries."

At the touch of a cloth, he opened his eyes, surprised to see her wrapping up his hand...using the cloth he'd given her the evening before.

His eyes moved up to her face, a little scrunched in concentration. While his own hands were calloused, hers were softer, and he could tell she was careful to not irritate the wounds any further...

His breathing steadied, and the pain in his hand started to turn into a dull throb.

"I...I didn't mean to, you know that, right?" His voice was soft, tentative, because...she seemed genuinely upset that he'd been hurt.

Gobber, having seen and heard all of this, waved a hook. "Go on, make sure he doesn't get hurt again during the trip. Sometimes I feel the lad is accident-prone...don't worry, I can hold down the fort. Just look after him, aye?"

Hiccup was a little shocked by the turn of events, and feeling a little lightheaded from Freya's hands on his own as he followed her outside.

Toothless flocked to him immediately, eyeing his bandaged hand with concern. "It's nothing bud, really."

Hopping on Toothless, he held his injured hand halfway up, holding on with the other as they flew to Gothi's.

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

While you're hurt like this...

He didn't understand. It was just a cut, on his hand. Sure, it wasn't minor, but...he'd pushed through much worse than this...

These thoughts were running through his mind as Gothi inspected the wound, having already removed and discarded the bloodied cloth.

As she sentenced him to rest, he tried not to look too frustrated. He hated being forced to rest. He hated having to sit still for too long. He needed to be doing something, keep his hands and his mind busy or he would go crazy.

-------

As Gothi tended to Hiccup inside, the twins happened to be passing by, pausing to see Freya waiting outside the hut.

News of their relationship had spread fast, even faster after the kiss during the morning session, so Tuffnut knew exactly who Freya was waiting for.

"So, Hiccup's hurt himself again, I see...how bad is it this time? He lose another limb?"

Ruffnut rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Tuff? He hasn't come close to that in like, years! It'd be much more of a better guess to ask if he almost drowned again, like with the Submaripper that kept Berk from getting supplies."

"Oh!" Tuffnut's eyes widened, like he got an idea. "Or if he was kidnapped again! Was there another ransom this time? Remember that, Ruff? He was kidnapped like, four times in one day that time!"

She nodded, listing off a few other instances that happened while they were on the Edge. She finished with, "Yeah, Hiccup's probably got more scars than all of us combined!"

Learning the true reason Hiccup was at Gothi's, they just shrugged.

"That's nothing. Frankly, I'm a little disappointed. It's usually so much more epic! Like that time he got hit by lightning!"

Ruffnut snickered. "Yeah! We're pretty sure Hiccup is some sort of magical wizard. Otherwise, how did he survive all that stuff??"

"Either that, or part dragon! He got knocked out by dragon root gas, remember?"

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

As Freya returned, Hiccup stood to greet her, having been sitting on a stool so it was easier for Gothi to treat his hand.

He wasn't used to this level of attentiveness...he didn't know what to do with it.

At her instructions, he just nodded mutely, following her to her hut.

While the offer of porridge sounded good, he shook his head. "You really don't have to worry about me, I'm fine. Gothi said it wasn't serious."

Toothless stayed outside with Blaze, watching Hiccup as he entered the hut.

He had questions for Freya, but was immediately cornered by Ayla.

"Oh, hey! No, I'm fine, it wasn't that deep. She just said I had to take it easy for a few days, put some salve on it." Glancing at Freya, he just said, "It was an accident. Just goes to show, it's important to pay full attention when working in the forge."

Going to sit down with Ayla, he asked, "Tell me about that saddle you were designing?"

#asks #threads #justpeaxchy #(((lore dump featuring the twins!)))

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mikaela-granger · 1 month ago

Text

The Long Wait (Season 4) Chapter 11

Death Do Us

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: Sean directs Juliette to someone who can help her. Meanwhile, he starts to find himself haunted by his shooting.

***Sean’s POV***

“Oh my god.” Sean said, unable to hide his surprise. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. “How did this happen?”

Juliette’s face returned to normal, and she shook her head. “I don’t know. Your mother said that there might be side effects when she gave me the potion to turn me into Adalind, and then I slept with Nick so that he could get his powers back. You call this, a side effect.”

Sean ran his hand across his face. “How long have you been like this?” He asked her.

“It started the night Monroe was kidnapped. All I want to know is, how do I get rid of it?”

“I –I don’t know, this might take some time to figure out.” Sean stammered.

“How much?” Juliette did not look happy about that.

“Juliette. I’m not exactly an expert in these things.” He admitted to her.

“Well, your mother is. She did this to me. She’ll reverse it. Call her. Now.” Sean knew it probably wasn’t going to be that simple. This may not even be something that could be fixed. “Please. Please, help me.”

After assuring Juliette that he would do everything in his power to help her, she left. Although not before pleading with them not to tell Nick. Sean was surprised at how readily Lorelei was willing to keep his secret from her brother. However, he shouldn’t be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first big secret she had kept from Nick.

Once Juliette had left, Lorelei hugged him tightly. “This might not be something that can be fixed, isn’t it?”

Sean held her close as he sighed. “No. It might not be.” He admitted, resting his face against the top of her head. “I’m a little surprised that you agreed to keep it from Nick.”

Lorelei shrugged. “Juliette doesn’t need Nick’s martyr guilt at the moment.” She told him. “I love him, but he can unintentionally make things about himself at the worst possible time.”

Eventually, Sean sent Lorelei up to bed, telling him he would follow her soon. He needed to try and contact his mother. Hopefully, she would be able to help.

“Sean, what did you find out?” Juliette asked him.

“I found someone you can talk to.” He answered, peering out the window at Nick.

“I don’t need a therapist.” Juleitte told him, sounding annoyed.

“This is not a therapist, believe me.”

“Can he help me?” She asked, as he watched Nick and Hank leave.

“It’s not a he, and she doesn’t talk to just anyone.”

“When can I see her?”

“If she agrees to this, I’ll make it happen as soon as I can.” Sean advised her, walking back over to his desk.

The call ended not long after that and Sean sat down at his desk with a sigh.

A couple of hours later, Sean was pulling up in the parking lot outside the café he was meeting Juliette at. He saw Juliette getting out of her car. Just as Sean was about to get out of his own car, another sped into the lot, almost hitting Sean had he gotten out of his car faster. It almost hit Juliette as well. Sean watched as Juliette confronted the driver after he parked. He think witnessed the reckless drivers car engine blow up. From where he was, he could see that Juliette was woged. This wasn’t good. He quickly got out and headed towards her, as the reckless driver yelled about his car. Sean grabbed Juliette’s arm and started leading her away.

“Time for lunch.” He told her.

“Did I do that? I didn’t do that? Did I?” Juliette asked.

“I believe you did.” Sean answered, leading her away from the scene.

Sean led Juliette towards a nearby restaurant, wanting to get her away from the scene of her crime. They were seated and had received their drinks, Sean started to fill Juliette on the woman who would be able to help her.

“Her name’s Henrietta.”

“Is she related to you?” Juliette asked him.

“No.” Sean replied. “She’s known my mother since she was a child. She’s one of the main reasons my mother brought us to Portland.”

“How old is she?”

Sean swallowed his coffee. “I don’t know. No one ever told me. And I’m not about to ask, and you shouldn’t either.”

“So how is she going to be able to help me?”

Sean reached into his jacket, pulling out a pen and pad. “She won’t know until she meets you. And she might ask you to do certain things.”

“Like what?”

Sean considered it. “Sort of an evaluation.” He told her, as he started writing the phone number down. “See what you’re made of.”

“When do I meet her?” Juliette asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Ripping the sheet of paper off the pad, he handed placed it in front of Juliette. “Call this number. Memorise it.”

“I will.” Juliette said.

“Now.” He instructed as he placed the pen and pad back into his jacket.

Juliette looked at the paper for a moment before looking back at him with a nod. “Got it.”

“Good.” He said, as the numbers on the paper rearranged themselves. Sean glanced at Juliette who was looking at the paper.

“How did you do that?” Juleitte asked in surprise, looking up at him.

“I didn’t.” Sean said with a slight smirk, as he picked up his coffee.

“Did I?”

Sean shook his head. “No. Henrietta.” He said, giving her a pointed look.

It wasn’t too late when Sean arrived home. He entered to find his wife and daughter in the living room, Lorelei watching tv as she helped Olivia with her bottle. Molly and Daisy were curled up together on their bed by the door. Lorelei glanced up, her face brightening. “Hey.”

Sean couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his face. “Hi.” He said, sitting down beside them to kiss his wife before turning his attention to his daughter. “Hi sweetheart.” He greeted his daughter, who had abandoned her bottle by this point and was trying to crawl into his lap.

Sean took her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead, before holding her close. Olivia seemed content to rest her head on his chest, playing with his tie. God, she was growing so fast. “How was your day?” Lorelei asked, resting her head against his shoulder, reaching out to hold Olivia’s little hand. “Did you manage to find someone who could help Juliette?”

Sean nodded, stretching his arm out and wrapping it around Lorelei’s shoulder so he could pull her closer. “I did. An old acquaintance of my mother who is here in Portland. She has agreed to meet with Juliette. I passed along her details.”

Sean felt Lorelei nod. “You think she’ll be able to help.”

Sean sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to Lorelei’s forehead. “I honestly don’t know.”

The next evening, it was a little later when Sean returned. No doubt Olivia would be asleep. As Sean entered, he glanced towards the living room, noticing a lack of noise. “Lorelei?” He called out, closing the door behind him.

“In the office.”

Sean headed that way, stopping at the door. His wife was sitting at the desk, working on her laptop. “Still working?” He asked moving towards her.

“Yeah, just working on an assignment while I have the chance.” Lorelei replied, standing up as he approached her. “I won’t be long though. I have an early class tomorrow.”

Lorelei wrapped her arms around his neck, and he bent his head, meeting her lips in a gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss heated up. Sean hoisted Lorelei up, seating her on the corner of the desk as his lips trailed across her face and down to her neck. “Sean.”

“Hmm.” Sean said, preoccupied with marking her neck.

“Give me five minutes. I want to finish up this section.” Lorelei said, sounding apologetic.

Sean sighed and pulled away. “Fine. But if you’re not done in five minutes, I’m coming back.” He said, smiling down at her before kissing her forehead.

Sean returned to the living area removing his jacket and tie before deciding to grab a drink while he waited. Drink in hand, he looked out at the view of the city, thinking about how lucky he was. He had a beautiful home that he shared with his beautiful soulmate, who was now his wife, and he had a beautiful daughter. They had the craziness that could be his life bearable. He was distracted from his thoughts when he felt a pain in his chest. Frowning, Sean rubbed the spot as he was overcome by a flashback to when he was shot. Sean felt the breath leave his body. It felt as if he were back at that day; the fear, the pain. It ended quickly, and Sean sighed glancing down at his hand. His eyes widened as he saw red smeared on it, blood. Looking down, Sean saw blood oozing through his shirt. Feeling a sense of panic, he rushed over to the mirror, ripping his shirt off and dropping it on the ground. The blood was coming from his bullet wounds. Breathing heavily, Sean tentatively touched one of the wounds, wiping the blood off. It didn’t appear to have reopened. He did the same with the others, they were the same. “What the hell is going on?” Sean asked himself out loud.

“Well, someone’s eager.” Sean jumped, hearing Lorelei’s voice sound from behind him. He spun around. Lorelei’s eyes widened, the smile leaving her face. “What happened?” She asked, her voice concerned as she rushed over to him.

“I…I don’t know. They just started bleeding.” He told her.

Lorelei’s hand hovered over the wound on the right side of his chest. “Did they reopen?”

Sean shook his head. “No. It doesn’t look like it.” He responded.

Lorelei tentatively touched the wound. “Why would they start bleeding after all this time?” Lorelei asked softly. He wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or herself. “Do they hurt?”

Sean paused. “Not at the moment. But they did before I noticed the bleeding.”

Lorelei took his hand and started leading him upstairs. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Upstairs, Lorelei had Sean wash the blood of his hands before gently wiping the blood off his chest using the baby wipes, she kept in their bathroom. As she did so, Sean explained what had happened. The pain in his chest, the flashback. “Has this happened before?” Lorelei asked as they returned to their bedroom.

Sean shook his head. “No. It hasn’t.”

“Maybe you should see the doctor about it.” His beautiful wife suggested.

Sean wasn’t a fan of that idea. He was not a fan of going to the doctors. He had been grateful when the doctor he was seeing after being shot had told him Sean was clear and didn’t need to return. “It’s only happened once. If it happens again, I will. But not yet.

Lorelei didn’t look happy about that, but didn’t argue with him. Especially when he distracted her by resuming the activities they had started in the office. He’d be fine.

A/N: I’m sorry for teasing a spicy scene and not delivering. Hopefully soon.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme, @nu1freakshow, @star-yawnznn, @bella250

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